Bodach squeezed her hand tight, her bones crunching under the painful pressure. He hissed under his breath. “You are not to speak, my Queen. Do you understand?”
She hissed back, infusing her anger into her words. “If I am Queen, I may do as I please.”
“You are only Queen by my power and support. I am the most powerful Fae remaining, even including your beloved Adhna. My place will be by your side as consort, and you will do what I say. If you take one step out of line of my commands, your children will suffer for it. And yes, I know where all four now reside in the mortal world. Pay heed, my Queen, and do nothing, and I mean nothing, but obey me.”
All the venom and power of his words sunk into her bones.
Her entire body turned numb. Grimnaugh stood by the throne but did nothing except give her an encouraging nod.
Drums sounded somewhere. A slow, martial beat. Ponderous, inevitable, demanding. They grew louder, as if the drummers walked down the endless halls of the palace. A slow parade of battle-wearied Fae tramped in with the slow tattoo, all in perfect formation. Ranks of bronze spears, swords, and a myriad of Fae mounts, and soldiers of every description filled the hall. Clíodhna didn’t think the space would hold so many, but it seemed to expand to accommodate the additional Fae.
As they all stopped in position, the courtiers ranged next to the dais. The soldiers and other Fae stood before her, arrayed for her approval.
A bell tolled, long and low, reverberating across the room and the hills beyond. The bell rang again, and once more. Echoes of its ring died out and the silence fell heavy upon the gathered host.
The ever-present ambient glow dimmed, almost as dark as a mortal night. Clíodhna glanced at Cerul, who lifted her arms in a demonstration of power. The tall Fae twisted her hands in an elegant gesture and the stars came out.
In all her time in Faerie, Clíodhna never saw stars. With no day and no night, only the ambient glow of the land itself, she missed staring at the twinkling lights in the sky. The splash of white, the central avenue of starlight, shone above her in sparkling glory. Those gathered gasped, as many of the attending Fae never traveled to the mortal world.
Soon, glittering points of light traveled across the sky, sped by Cerul’s magic. The glow on the horizon hinted with feather touches of teal and blue, turning to purple and peach.
When the sun rose in brilliant splendor, Clíodhna cried in nostalgic triumph. If she’d regained control over her body, she would have fallen to her knees to greet her old friend, the dawn she’d lost for so long. This grandeur once colored her every morning for her entire life until she came to Faerie. Now she beheld the wonder once again in exaltation.
This vision couldn’t be the real sun. However, Cerul’s illusion imitated the sun of the mortal world so well, try as she might, Clíodhna didn’t see a difference. What a wondrous achievement.
While trembling from the power of the gift Cerul granted her, Clíodhna took in a deep breath, trying to regain control over her emotions. With Bodach controlling her physical reactions, at least she kept her mind in line.
The drumming came again, but this time instead of a slow, martial march, it rapped out a precise tattoo, as if announcing some great event.
When it finished, Bodach held her hand up, as if signaling a victory.
“Our beloved Queen has perished. She fought bravely against those who rebelled against her, but her time has fallen.
“However, we have a new Queen, a Queen who will take up the Faerie Mantle and lead us to victory. All hail Queen Clíodhna the Fair One!”
The sheer wall of noise that became the Fae cheers smashed upon Clíodhna like a physical barrier. She closed her eyes against the onslaught, wishing she could cup her hands to her ears. They cheered three times, a grand huzzah to welcome her. She opened her eyes to study the faces of each of her new courtiers.
Cerul’s pleasure seemed genuine and after her coronation gift, Clíodhna understood. Cerul had been a supporter of hers for some time, without realizing it.
Grimnaugh looked ambivalent. He knew she hadn’t accepted this responsibility willingly. Other courtiers looked either thrilled, pensive, worried, or outright angry. She made a note of each reaction, to store them away and examine them later. For now, she must get through this day.
Something rumbled in the distance, like a large cart rushing by, driven by a team of galloping horses. No one else seemed to notice.
She glanced up at the arches, but nothing dire seemed to be happening. The hallway filled with Fae, so no enemy would rush in without warning. She shoved the unease away and turned to Bodach, waiting for his next action.
He grinned at her, a grin full of lascivious delight, kissed her hand, and gestured for her to take a seat on the throne, at long last.
Clíodhna glanced behind her to make certain the throne hadn’t moved, took a deep breath, did her best to look regal and assured, and sat.
The rumble grew. Now the walls shook and the ground buzzed. She gripped the throne’s arms until her knuckles turned white, looking to Grimnaugh for help. He shrugged, his expression bleak. The other courtiers glanced around in patent confusion.
Bodach looked unconcerned, and still held her hand. She tried to extract it, but he gripped tight, crushing her bones.
“Bodach! What is that? Let me go.”
“Not yet, my Queen. You have one more thing to do.”
“What? What is that?”
“That, my Queen, is the
