I hugged Snow and patted her neck. “I understand. I hope you find them. Be safe, and come back soon.”
“I will,” Snow said in my mind as I walked forward, surrounded by my escort, and entered the fae city of Iris.
We strode through the cobblestone streets and up the main avenue to the Crystal Castle. A towering white stone structure embedded into the mountain, I’d read that the outer walls were made entirely of a rock-hard fae crystal found only in the southern mines of Elfi. The fae queen’s palace gleamed in the distance as the moon rose over Iris. Opulent mansions of the nobility descended into the valley from the foothills of the castle, surrounded by flowering grottos and shaded paths that led down to the city, which spread out in a wide semicircle around the palace.
Most of the High Fae shuffled out of the way as the fae-warriors passed. Others gawked at Tristan and moved over to the opposite side of the street. He sauntered like a stealthy predator, his sapphire eyes constantly scanning the crowd for threats.
We crossed white marble bridges shimmering above small streams and glittering waterfalls that ran down from the mountains. Glass orbs floated through the air, lighting up the city. A haunting melody rose to my ears as fingers danced on harp strings in the starry night, filling the city with their lilting song.
Here within the confines of their own land, protected by the magic of their queen, the fae seemed to move about their lives without fear. I was glad to see one place that was still safe from Morgana’s evil, which had started to claw its way into every kingdom in the north and west and was now looking to the east. Eventually she would move south to Elfi; it was inevitable.
“How things have changed,” Aiden muttered to Tristan as Cade and I followed behind them, past the palace gates and through the vast open halls of the Crystal Castle.
Tristan glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“How can you be okay with this?” Aiden asked, obviously unconcerned that I could hear him. “I thought you hated mages.”
“I do hate mages,” said Tristan. “But she’s only half mage and not a threat. She’s weak and her magic isn’t strong.”
“Not strong?” Aiden looked incredulous. “She’s Aurora Firedrake, the most powerful fae-mage to be born in thousands of years. You’ve heard the stories about her!”
“Exaggerations,” Tristan shrugged. “She can’t be as powerful as they say she is. I saw her fight, she’s untrained and clumsy with her powers.”
“She could be here to spy for the mages.” Aiden’s voice was low but dripping with malice. I could still hear him and he knew it. “Did you think of that? The queen is taking a big chance letting this one into the city. She could turn on us at any time.”
Tristan nodded. “It’s possible. No mage can be trusted. But the queen wants her here and there is nothing we can do about it right now.” He lowered his voice, but I could still hear him faintly. “Hopefully she will be gone soon and we won’t have to see her ever again.”
Aiden looked back at me and scowled. “I hope so.”
I scowled back at him and stepped closer to Cade, who coughed and flicked a glance at me. His eyes pitied me, and I knew he, too, had heard what Tristan and Aiden had said. Did all of them hate half fae? Maybe Cade did too and was keeping quiet about it.
We entered the throne room, a grand hall lined with marble pillars and huge arched windows fitted with fae crystal that glinted in the moonlight. I followed Tristan and the others, their boots clumping loudly on the smooth marble floor. At the very end of the room, standing before her throne, was Izadora, queen of the fae, my grandmother.
She stood regal and elegant on a raised dais, dressed in a gown of pure silver that flowed around her body like a shimmering mist. I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her hair was the color of spun gold, entwined with silver cascading down to her feet. Her eyes were the most startling shade of gold, and she radiated a glow unlike anything I had seen before. On her head, she wore a crown of pearls set within a carved circlet of silver. The queen of the fae was over a thousand years old, but she didn’t look a day over forty.
All the fae-warriors bent their knees and bowed when they saw her.
“We have done as you asked, Your Majesty,” Tristan said, his voice low. “The princess is safe.”
My grandmother looked me over. “Thank you, Tristan, you all may go. Aurora and I have much to discuss.” Her voice was cold.
The fae-warriors turned and left the room without a word. Izadora’s gold eyes met mine and I smiled, stepping forward to hug my grandmother.
Immediately a wall of magic slammed into me and knocked the breath right out of my lungs.
“We do not show affection in my court,” said my grandmother with an immortal stillness as I stood gasping for breath. “Kindness and love, which the humans prize most, is a weakness. It is a noose around your neck waiting to strangle the life out of you.” She paused, assessing me. “I know you have grown up in the human world, and I don’t know why your mother chose to send you there. But let this be your first lesson. Life is hard, and everything comes at a price. The sooner you learn that, the better. Understand you are not here because of some grandmotherly affection I feel toward you. You are here for a purpose, and that is all.”
I reeled from shock. I thought my grandmother would be happy to see me. But she was as cold as the winter snow,
