I clenched my fists and straightened my spine. “Then why did you send the fae-warriors to bring me here? You should have let the Drakaar kill me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” The queen of the fae waved her hand and turned to go and sit on her throne. “You have your uses, and I do not let my feelings get in the way of what has to be done. The mages have created a mess I must now clean up. Morgana has ruled long enough, and I cannot let her reign of terror continue, not when she dares to threaten the borders of my kingdom.”
“And what about the other kingdoms?” I spat out. Didn’t she care about the rest of the world? Was she so heartless that she would let others suffer if she could help them? “People in Illiador are dying, children are being torn from their parents, unimaginable terrors walk in the northern kingdoms, and you sit here on your comfortable throne and tell me you have decided to stand up to Morgana because she threatens your safe little part of the world?”
Her immortal stare was cool and calculating as she assessed me. “The rest of the world is not my concern.”
“Morgana killed your daughter. How can that not be your concern?” I snarled.
“Killed?” Izadora said coolly, her one eyebrow arching in a perfect bridge.
My mouth dried up. She knew!
“You knew my mother was not dead but trapped in the Dagger, and you did nothing about it?” I struggled to keep my voice even. I could not let my anger take hold of me—not here, not now. I clenched my fists. “You left her to rot inside it for fifteen years.”
“Elayna knew what she was getting into when she married your father.” The fae queen’s voice was icy and without a drop of emotion. “I warned her against marrying outside the fae court, and she married a mage, of all things. She thought she was in love and gave up her immortal life to save her mortal half-breed child. She deserved her fate.”
“How can you say that about your own daughter?” My body shook as my magic tried to break free. I dug my nails into my palms and willed myself to stay calm, pushing it back down. I never imagined my grandmother could be so cold-hearted. “No wonder my mother left you—at least she had a few years of real love.” I tried to keep my voice from breaking.
“And what did it get her?” my grandmother snapped, her gold eyes flashing.
I pursed my lips, my blood boiling, but I held my anger in check. She was an immortal and much stronger than I was. I could not let my anger get in the way of what I had to do. I needed her and she needed me. And I had to make the most of what I had.
“One day, I will free my mother,” I vowed.
“Without my help, you will never succeed in defeating Morgana or getting close to the Dark Dagger,” said the queen coolly. “While you are in Elfi, you will abide by my rules. Remember you are only here because I permit you to remain.”
I pursed my lips and contained my anger. I could not afford to lose Izadora’s help.
“Be not mistaken,” the fae queen continued. “You are not my heir, nor will you ever be named as such until you prove yourself. You are a fae-mage and thus a half-breed,” she sneered. “The High Fae will never follow you. Fae-mages are abominations of the natural order of things; your powers are unpredictable and largely unmapped territory. Your magic needs to be controlled and given direction. Containing it will eventually end badly for you and for the rest of the world. Therefore, I will allow you to stay in Elfi and train with my warriors. The magic within this valley is concentrated with all the powers of the fae. It is only here you will be able to tap into your true potential and find the real depths of your powers if you so wish. Once you are ready, I will provide the resources you need to take back your father’s throne and end Morgana’s rule for good.”
Izadora’s help would be invaluable when it came to the final battle to retake Illiador; without her and the fae-warriors of Elfi, even if I secured the Silver Swords’ assistance, I would only be leading a band of rebels to their deaths. If I made it to that point. This was an offer I couldn’t refuse, and she knew it.
But she needed me too. If I refused to fight for my throne, Elfi would eventually be swallowed up by Morgana’s growing empire. I knew the fae queen valued strength above all, and she wanted me to prove I was worthy to be her heir. I would do it, starting now.
“I will do as you ask,” I said, crossing my arms. “But I have one condition.”
Izadora smiled for the first time since I met her. It was apathetic, but it was a smile all the same. “So, you are not as dimwitted as you seem.”
I ignored the deliberate jab and waited.
“What is your condition?” The smile was gone, replaced by a cunning look.
I chose my words carefully. “If I do as you say—remain in Elfi and do everything to master my powers—I want you to help me rescue my mother from the Dagger of Dragath.”
The fae queen’s gold eyes flashed, her knuckles white against the throne she gripped.
I waited, holding my breath. I willed my heart to stay calm. Had I gone too far? Would she burn me to a crisp?
Finally, Izadora’s eyes softened slightly, and she nodded. “Yes. If you do exactly as I command while you reside in Elfi, I will help you break the curse on the Dagger of
