Anger flashed across Oak’s face, but she shrugged and continued her circle until she was, once again, facing the queen.
“I will leave your playthings alone. For now.”
“Enough games, earth sprite! Answer me.” As Sgiach spoke, the floor vibrated, as if the isle itself growled in anger with its queen.
Oak spoke quickly, her voice laced with contempt.
“High Priestess no more, Neferet did come to me—paid dearly, she did, to open a door no others can see.”
Kevin’s cheeks heated and his stomach clenched.
“Did this ex–High Priestess pass through the door?” Sgiach asked.
“I have answered you true—and now I shall leave as I have much, much to do.”
The queen seemed to grow so that she filled the room. Her eyes blazed amber. There was movement behind her as Seoras drew his sword and stepped forward. Sgiach’s voice echoed from the stone walls as wind filled the room, lifting the queen’s long silver hair so that she looked eerily like the stained-glass battle scene behind her. “My blood is unique. It commands that you speak!”
Kevin and Stark staggered back a step as the power in Sgiach’s voice battered them.
Oak cringed and also moved back, but when she spoke her voice was filled with spite. “Of course she stepped through—what else would she do? Her payment was clear—the sacrifice dear. I could open the door for you, but Neferet’s payment you must outdo.”
Sgiach said nothing for several breaths and Kevin realized she had locked her gaze onto the sprite. Finally, Oak’s head turned to the side and she looked away, which is when the queen spoke.
“Remember that this isle obeys me—all that happens here, I see. Like autumn wind you bluster and blow. But I am queen. I command. Now leave my presence—go!”
And then, with a crack of thunder, the earth sprite disappeared.
Sgiach returned to her throne. As she reached Seoras, he took her bloodied hand and gently, intimately, drew it to his lips and licked the blood from it, closing the shallow wound instantly.
Stark swallowed hard, and Kevin understood completely. At that moment he would’ve given almost anything to take Seoras’s place.
Sgiach didn’t sit on her throne, instead Seoras returned to his place beside it as she paced back and forth across the dais in front of it.
“We’re too late,” Kevin said while the queen paced. “Neferet’s in Zoey’s world right now.”
“It would appear so,” said the agitated queen.
“But is that sprite telling you the truth?” Stark asked. “She, uh, seemed pretty—”
As Stark paused and searched for the right words, Seoras spoke sharply.
“Rude. Disrespectful. And unusually crabbit, even for that prickly fey.”
“Your Majesty,” Kevin said. “Is Oak always like that with you?”
Sgiach stopped pacing to meet his gaze. “She’s the leader of the fey, and over the centuries has often been arrogant and difficult, but until today she has never shown such outright disrespect. She said she knew you. Was it Oak who granted you access to Old Magick?”
Kevin nodded. “It was. She was there every time I invoked Old Magick. And she was there when Zoey called on the sprites to restore the humanity to the red vampyres in this world.”
“Ah, I see. The payment for something like that must have been immense.”
Kevin forced himself to speak through the knot in his throat. “It was. It cost the life of Aphrodite, who was a Prophetess of Nyx and the vampyre I loved.”
“I see. That must have been very exciting for Oak. No wonder she singled you out.”
“Are all sprites so mean?” Stark asked.
“Not mean. Not usually. But they are bored, and they make their own rules. They do not choose Light or Darkness but walk somewhere in the middle—a place neither vampyres nor humans can tread safely.”
“So, how do we get her to reopen the door to the Other World?” Stark asked. “Kevin and I have no choice now. We have to follow Neferet and warn Zoey and her House of Night.”
“I have been on this isle more than five centuries,” said Sgiach. “And I have never seen Oak like this. Before, I was reluctant to allow you to use Old Magick for the same reasons I have been guarding it and keeping it mostly confined to Skye all these many centuries.” The queen ticked off the reasons on her fingers. “The sprites are capricious. Where they go, trouble often follows. The sprites always demand payment—a payment that gets higher and higher the more often you ask for their help. And, finally, Old Magick is addictive to anyone who does not have an affinity for it—and in the centuries of my long life, I have never known Nyx to gift any vampyre with such an affinity. As I said, the payment increases with each use, but ultimately, you pay with your sanity. Mortals were not meant to wield Old Magick. Respect it—yes. Appreciate it—yes. Even leave offerings to the sprites that embody it—yes. More than that and you are taking a chance with your mind and your spirit each time you make a request of it.
“But now, after what happened tonight, I can tell you that even if one of you had never called forth a sprite and made a request—”
“That would be me,” Stark said, and then quickly added, “Your Majesty.”
“Yes, not even you, Stark, could use Old Magick safely. Not for a request as big as being shuttled between worlds.”
“But we have to!” Kevin said. “And not just for Zoey’s world—for ours. Our Neferet will break that other Neferet out. She doesn’t care if Old Magick is dangerous. She’ll keep using it and upping the payment over and over without giving a shit. And when that Neferet is free she’ll teach our Neferet how she became immortal, and then we’ll pay—all of us. In both worlds.”
“I understand that,” said the queen. “Tell me, Kevin Redbird, which of the five elements are you most closely allied with?”
Kevin wanted to shout at her, Why is that important right now!? But one does
