face.
I sat very still on the floor, hugging myself and tucking my hands under my arms to hide their trembling.
I’d just killed a person. No, Henry’s wasn’t the first death I was at least partially responsible for. I had used my terrible spell against Aunt Grace, but it wasn’t my spell that killed her, at least not directly. And though I’d hated her, I hadn’t actually been
“Killing someone in self-defense is not a crime,” Arawn said, his voice seeming to echo through the hall. I didn’t know if he was talking to me, or to Titania. Maybe both.
Titania rose to her feet slowly, moving like an old lady. Her expression was still tightly controlled, but I got the feeling she was holding on to that control by a thread. I also got the feeling it would be bad news for everyone around her if she lost that control. There was a palpable tension in the air, and it wasn’t just because of the shock of Henry’s death. Her eyes locked on me, and the ancient power in her gaze held me trapped as she stepped away from Henry’s body—well, Henry’s clothes—and came toward me.
My instinct for self-preservation suggested I start humming again, but I resisted the urge. Threatening the Queen didn’t seem like such a hot idea after I’d just killed her son. I’m sure she’d been plenty mad at him after what he’d done, but I knew from experience that it was hard to stop loving family, even when they screwed up.
“What did you do to my son?” Titania asked, her voice as icy as it had ever been.
I licked my lips nervously. “I, um, made him mortal, I think. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let him take me. Or Elizabeth.” Inspiration hit me, though I might have been confusing inspiration with desperation. “Elizabeth is your granddaughter. You saw how he treated her: like a piece of property, one he didn’t have to take good care of. He shot her, and if Arawn hadn’t spoken up, Henry would have been just as happy to let her die. Never mind what you think about me, but did you really want him leaving here with her as his prisoner? Again?”
I couldn’t tell from looking at her whether my argument was having any effect or not. Poker players everywhere would envy her lack of expression.
“I should have you executed,” she said, and one of the trolls eagerly stepped forward. Volunteering for the job, I guess.
“She has committed no crime,” Arawn said. I wasn’t sure why he was defending me, but I wasn’t about to complain. I seemed to be very good at annoying the Fae. I didn’t want to annoy Titania while she was deciding whether to execute me, so I was happy to let Arawn do the talking.
“She killed my son.”
“In self-defense. And after he had shot her and your granddaughter and held a mortal weapon to your head. Surely you can’t blame her for that.”
“Henry would never have resorted to such drastic methods had she not forced him into it.”
It didn’t sound like Titania was much for forgiving and forgetting. Maybe I should start calling magic after all. Only now everyone was aware I could do it, and I suspected I’d be dead before the first note left my lips. Henry’s magic might have protected him from being killed by one deadly spell—except for mine—but I didn’t have the same luxury.
“He sired a Faeriewalker, Titania,” Arawn said with what sounded like a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Sired her and then kept her secret from everyone, including you. You can’t imagine his motives for doing that were pure.”
Titania considered that for a long, painful moment. Then she turned to Elizabeth, and her voice softened.
“Where is your mother, child?” she asked.
Elizabeth still looked like she was one wrong move away from fainting in terror, but she managed to answer. “He killed her,” she said, sounding even younger than she was. “He came to Avalon about three years ago and he visited my mother.” Her eyes welled with tears. “She was so happy that I would finally have a chance to meet my father. But when he found out about me…” Her voice trailed off.
“What happened when he found out about you?” Titania prompted. Considering how cold and terrifying she was capable of being, I had to admit I was impressed by how gently she spoke to Elizabeth.
“He killed her,” Elizabeth whispered. “He killed her and took me away. Then he brought me to Faerie.”
Titania looked appalled. “That cannot be,” she said, but it didn’t sound like she believed her own words.
“Dana did you a favor,” Arawn said. “Let her go, and be consoled that you have gained a granddaughter.”
“I will think on it,” Titania responded.
A Fae serving woman stepped through the fake wall and into the hallway. She didn’t look surprised by what she saw, so I guessed she’d been summoned somehow. Titania beckoned the woman forward, putting a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“Take this child to a healer, that we might be certain her wounds have been properly tended,” Titania said. “And have Henry’s suite emptied and redecorated for her.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Titania smiled at her, that smile thawing the ice in her eyes. There might even have been a hint of kindness in her face, though kindness and Faerie Queens didn’t seem to go together.
“You are my granddaughter, and both of your parents are dead. I will care for you as your father ought to have cared for you from the day you were born.”
“C-can I go back to Avalon?” Elizabeth asked wistfully.
Titania stroked her hair, the touch both gentle and possessive. “Someday, perhaps.”
Someday when Elizabeth had been thoroughly trained to be Titania’s lapdog, she meant. It appeared her philosophy about Faeriewalkers was that they should be allowed the privilege of living as long as they made themselves useful. It remained to be seen whether killing Henry had made me useful or condemned me.
The servant led Elizabeth away.
“You come with me,” Titania said to me with a wave of her hand, then headed toward her room.
I followed reluctantly, wishing she’d just make up her mind about me one way or the other. I wanted out of here, out of the Sunne Palace and out of Faerie. Arawn took a step to follow, but Titania turned to him and shook her head.
“You, I did not invite,” she said. “Not this time.”
Arawn grinned at her. “And you think that will stop me? I have a vested interest in Dana’s well-being.”
The reminder brought heat to my cheeks, especially when Titania’s sharp glance my way told me she knew exactly what the Erlking was talking about. I reminded myself that I hadn’t done anything wrong when I’d agreed to give the Erlking my virginity. It was the only way I could save Ethan, and I never planned to make good on my part of the deal, even though the cost to me was going to get heavier and heavier as time went by.
Titania looked at me. “Arawn is a most dangerous ally,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I won’t do anything stupid with him.”
Arawn laughed softly. “She is a stubborn little thing, our Faeriewalker.”
I glared up at him, but that didn’t do much to dispel his amusement. I wondered if he still believed there was a chance in hell I was going to sleep with him someday. He’d claimed once that he thought time would whittle away my resistance, but that was before I knew what all the consequences would be.
That led me to thinking about Elizabeth again. Here was another female Faeriewalker—one who was apparently a virgin, or Henry wouldn’t have offered her to the Green Lady—who would be more vulnerable to him. And neither Titania, nor any other member of her Court, could warn Elizabeth about Arawn’s ulterior motives. No, I was the only one who could, and it made me wonder if I’d outlived my usefulness to him.
Of course, he had argued with Titania to save my life. But his scheming and machinations were so complex I rarely figured out exactly what he was up to until it was way too late.
Titania made a face of polite skepticism, but didn’t say anything. This time when Arawn made to follow us back into her room, she didn’t protest.
I blinked in surprise when I walked through the doorway into a completely different room from the one we’d been in before. The bed was gone, as was the carpet of rose petals. The floor was now covered in apple-green grass, trimmed short like on a golf course, and the furniture consisted of three chairs, unlike any I’d ever seen before. They sprouted from the ground, complete with gnarled roots, their glossy-smooth trunks forming scooped-
