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I really, really don’t like the way she threatens to cut out tongues when someone speaks and she doesn’t want them to. Like Rys, it’s kept me quiet for a minute, but I have to defend myself.

“I’m not trying to do that,” I argue. “I keep telling you people, I don’t want anything to do with the fae. I just want to be left alone.”

Her strange eyes glimmer. They’re still not the same color they were out in the sunlight. The more I watch, the more it seems like they’re closer to Nine’s silver than Rys’s gold.

“Yes, well, that’s why I’d like to propose a trade. You for them,” she says, waving in the direction of the fae and the woman frozen beside her. “Stay with me in Faerie, stay where I can keep my eye on you, and I’ll set them free. No harm, no foul. I’ll remove the spell and their imprisonment, let them go on their merry way. In my castle, you’ll find it impossible to plot to steal my head. I won’t have to destroy the halfling destined to end my reign, but I’ll also have control of her. A perfect trade, in my opinion.”

My heart just about stops at the same time as Melisandre does.

When I first saw the statues—when she first told me who those two people were—I was so stunned, I could barely understand the magnitude of her reveal. For twenty human years, my parents have been trapped in Faerie all because they wanted to save me.

It never occurred to me that I might be able to save them.

“You can… you can do that?”

“Certainly. And I’ll do it if you agree to take their place.”

“Two for one… that trade would be entirely in Riley’s favor. That’s not like you, Melisandre. Where is the sacrifice?” asks Nine. He shifts his weight, covering me as the Fae Queen glides back, coming to stand in front of us again instead of my freaking parents. “You said sacrifice. What are your intentions?”

“It’s simple. I can’t honestly be expected to leave the Shadow free. She’s just beginning to come into her powers. None of us know what she’ll eventually become. So, in exchange for Aislinn and his human, she’ll stay in Faerie with me—just as they are.”

A statue.

The Fae Queen wants me to willingly trade my freedom for that of my parents. It’s not certain death, but I wouldn’t be alive.

I also wouldn’t have to worry about the queen coming after me, or her sending soldiers after me. A statue in her gardens… it’s not the outcome I was hoping for, but I’m so freaking tired, it almost has a certain appeal.

When I don’t immediately say no, Nine turns just enough so that he can look at my face. I don’t know what it is that he sees in my expression—he sure doesn’t like it, though.

“Riley, no. You can’t do this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ninetroir. I think the Shadow has no choice but to take my trade.”

Melisandre lifts her hand high. Another gesture. Another signal. Four of the six guards—two Dark Fae, two Light Fae, neither Rys—come forward, surrounding me and Nine at the corners.

“Show my guests to their quarters.” Her pale pink lips curve, a dangerous smile tugging them upward. “I will see you again at the next moonrise. I trust you’ll have time to think over my offer. I’ll expect your answer then.”

Quarters?

Try a cell.

After escorting us from the Fae Queen’s throne room, the guards lead us through countless other rooms before marching me and Nine down one last narrow hall, glittering swords pointed at us from every angle.

We finally stop in front of a room with bars. Not six bars, like my window back at Black Pine, but at least fifty. They’re not a dark metal, either—these bars are made of thick glass, but with a skinny bar of something that doesn’t quite belong shoved in the middle.

It’s iron. I don’t know how I can be so sure, but I am. It’s probably enough iron to weaken a fae—especially since it’s probably some of the only iron in all of Faerie—and that, coupled with the bars and the empty room, make it clear to me what it’s for.

Faerie jail. You’ve got to be kidding.

As we approach, the door swings outward.

“Inside,” orders one of the Dark Fae guards.

Because I don’t see what else we can do, both Nine and I step in. The door slams with an echo behind us.

As soon as we’re alone in the cell, Nine whirls on me. He’s so tall, so terrible, so utterly awe-inspiring, I tilt my head back as he looms in front of me. Though I’m close to shaking in my sneakers, I refuse to quail. I don’t back down.

I’ve been expecting this.

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