Page 42 of Ambrosia


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Rays of light shot through the leaves high above, dappling the gnarled wooden floor with flecks of gold. As I stared up at the branches, I pictured Torin’s sorrowful blue eyes as he sat on the bed next to me. When he was thinking of his mom. For some reason, my magic worked best when I was thinking of him.

I felt the power move up my body. Tendrils of warmth sprouted beneath my feet, curled up my legs and thighs, and spilled into my stomach and chest. When I was using my magic, I didn’t feel alone becauseI felt the tree’s life, its consciousness. I imagined the branches shifting and moving above me, letting in more sunlight.

I could feel its soul.

The boughs over my head groaned, parting, and sunlight washed over me. I tilted my head back. The warmth felt glorious on my skin, a gift from this tree where I made my new home.

I breathed in deeply, soaking in the rays. Tingles rippled down my shoulder blades.

And yet—

Even with this power, I still felt as if something about my magic was trapped inside me. My power was magma locked under the frozen earth.

When I heard the sound of metal sliding against metal, I pulled the magic back inside me. The tree branches shifted into place, filling the room with shadows once more. A few leaves fluttered down onto the cell floor.

Morgant pushed the door open and hefted a little copper tub into the cell. He dropped it onto the floor, along with a pair of fresh clothes and a bar of soap.

“Has the Queen decided I’m allowed to wash now?” I asked.

“I didn’t ask her.”

“Then why are you taking it upon yourself to make me more comfortable?”

“Because you are one of us,” he said.

A bolt of guilt shot through me. I was one of them because I’d killed Torin.

“You could have healed him, couldn’t you?” I asked.

Morgant shrugged. “Who am I to defy the Queen’s explicit orders?”

My jaw tightened. “You and your mother have a real fucked-up relationship.”

“Her methods can seem brutal,” he said, “but she has the best interests of her family at heart. The Seelie have been trying to invade our kingdom for decades now. Torin sent an assassin who killed her son. My brother. Mab is the reason we remain a sovereign kingdom. But our success depends on her ruthlessness in protecting us. Without her, we’d be overrun by the Seelie.”

A lump rose in my throat. “She told me if I killed the king, I would be released. I thought you all were bound by oaths.”

His amber eyes pierced the darkness. “Perhaps that’s what she intended at the time before you tried to kill her. But you are alive for one reason only, and that is because someday, you might be useful to us.”

He yanked the door open and slammed it behind him. I heard the lock slide into place.

Sighing, I turned back to the thorny plants that climbed over the tree trunk and the stone walls. I imagined Morgant standing there in the hall, watching as Torin died before him.

Under my control, the vines started to move and rise. I closed my eyes, feeling my thoughts mingle with those of the tree that had become my home, relaxing in the warmth of sunlight on its canopy. From where I lay, I could feel the roots burrowing into the earth, twined with a delicate network of mycelium and fungi thatspread beneath the kingdom. I breathed in, exhilarated. Every living thing here was connected, interacting. Communicating.

But a heavy burden pressed on the tree. The stones were crushing its boughs, trapping it beneath their weight. Power surged through me, but my chest felt weighted down with rocks.

My eyes snapped open, and I gasped for breath.

I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but I kept wondering what they’d done with Torin’s body. I had a horrific feeling they’d make a spectacle out of him. That’s what fae kings did, place their enemy’s head on a pike and hang their body from the castle gates.

A vanquished enemy.

I had no idea what Seelie burial traditions were like, but I knew they’d want the king’s body back, and that he deserved a burial alongside his parents. My chest felt tight thinking about it. How many days had passed? I didn’t want to remember him as a corpse, but I felt responsible for getting him home to Faerie.

Morgant thought I could be useful to him. But I had other plans.

One day, when I’d mastered control of my magic, I would free the tree and wrap these thorny vines around his throat.

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