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Her guards stand in a half-circle facing away from her. The Fae of the Seelie court are lining up against them, ready to fight. Beyond the impending brawl is the darkness. It makes a black border, making the Fae Seelie Court lands an island. The darkness swirls and seethes as if it is breathing, inhaling and exhaling, filling its metaphorical lungs, expanding with each inhale, but never emptying as much as they take in, using the extra to push further into the light. It’s claiming more ground.
The sisters bicker back and forth but I hear them as background noise because they don’t matter. That darkness is what matters. It’s growing stronger, and somehow, I have to stop it. It’s incorporeal, an idea or a nothingness, but no matter. It is hunger. I feel it, in my guts; the insatiable, demanding, overwhelming craving that is bent on consuming all that exists.
“Stop,” I say.
It’s not loud, but Dugald, Moira, and Siobhan turn to look. The two Queens are too engaged with themselves to stop or even pause. Sniping at each other incessantly in that way only sisters can, knowing exactly how to cut the deepest with the fewest words. I force myself to quit staring at the swirling dark and step between the two of them, raising my hands up in front of each.
“You dare,” the Dark Queen snaps, and her guards spin with a rattle of armor and swords towards me.
“Stop,” I repeat.
I don’t raise my voice because I don’t need to. No one is speaking; silence reigns supreme. The Dark Queen’s eyes widen, her mouth twists into a frown then parts, but before she can speak the Fair Queen interrupts.
“Mab, please, listen to her. She is wise. Wiser than you would expect.”
I frown at the backhanded compliment, but it doesn’t matter. She can think what she wants and piss off for all I care. I’m going to save Duncan and these two know things I need to know. Queen Mab snaps her mouth shut and a frown furrows her brow, wrinkling that snow-white perfect forehead, but then she nods.
“There is no time for this,” I say. “Duncan is enduring god knows what and I’m going to save him. With, or without your help. It will be easier with it, so please, stop the bickering or go away.”
Mab’s black eyes bore into mine with an intensity I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. I meet her gaze with my own level one, not backing down because if I’ve learned nothing else from this entire experience it’s to hold my ground. I may or may not be the master of my fate, but I will do what I think is best.
“You are right, Sister,” Mab says at last. “Rise, my subjects, the Unseelie Court is disbanded and there is no more time for adherence to ways that have been broken. What is it you need, Quinn?”
Siobhan and Moira stand up and, surprising to me at least, they move to stand on either side of me. Moira, I get, but I can’t keep myself from staring with wide eyes at Siobhan. She frowns only so slightly and shrugs.
“What?” she mutters.
I snap my mouth shut and shake my head. I’ll take it, even if I’m not sure what it means.
“You were telling me about using an item or artifact or something to focus,” I say, looking at the Fair Queen. “What is it you have in mind?”
“You can’t be seriously thinking what I think you are,” Queen Mab interjects.
“I am, Sister,” the Fair Queen says, “unless you have a better solution?”
“The sword is lost,” she says.
“It is not,” the Fair Queen says.
“You know where it is, and you’ve left it alone? How long have you known?” Queen Mab asks, her voice rising.
“What are you two talking about?” I interject.
“The artifact you will need,” the Fair Queen says.
“What artifact? What sword? Give me some straight answers and quit the sniping at each other,” I demand.
“I suspected since Quinn’s mother did her spell,” the Fair Queen says. “She would have needed something to focus that amount of power.”
My frustration is growing because it is impossible to get a simple, straight answer to anything from these people. Dealing with the Fae is maddening, which is probably why almost every tale about them is a warning to not deal with them.
“Interesting, but this is only a theory,” Queen Mab says.
“It was,” the Fair Queen says.
“You think she’s alive,” Queen Mab says, her eyes lighting up with a burning dark fire.
“I do,” the Fair Queen agrees.
