I flung out my arms, pushing my magic at the remaining werewraiths in the hall, mixing mage magic with my fae-fire, creating the flame that could reduce a werewraith to ash. The werewraiths screamed in fury as a wall of silver and gold flames engulfed them. Fur and flesh burned with an acrid stench and dissolved into smoke.
But there was still one Drakaar left, moving backward toward the portal, toward Penelope, who was still trying to close it.
Tristan had fallen, the werewraith poison in his blood draining him of strength and magic.
From across the room, I lifted my hand and caught the Drakaar in a magical hold, picking him up, his legs dangling a foot above the ground. His eyes widened in shock at the strength of my powers.
I spoke clearly so the Drakaar could hear me as I walked toward him. “Tell Morgana what happened here today.” I fortified my hold over the Drakaar, crushing his darkness with my light. “Tell her Raziel is dead, and the fae will never bow to her. Tell her to prepare for the fight of her life. Tell her Aurora Firedrake is coming to take back her kingdom and her throne.”
I gathered more power and flung the Drakaar backward through the portal. Waving my hand in front of me and weaving an intricate web of magic as I had been taught, I closed the portal, and the swirling mist disappeared.
The Crystal Castle was safe.
Traitor
The grand hall was streaked with blood and ash, and the bodies of High Fae that didn’t get away from the werewraiths and the Drakaar were strewn haphazardly around the room. Cade had managed to get most of the fae out of the hall and into the gardens. Now palace guards were rounding them up and questioning them. No one had seen anything, and we still had no idea who had opened the portal.
I ran to Tristan, who was lying on the ground. He tried to push himself up when he saw me.
“I can heal you,” I said, kneeling beside him.
Penelope came up behind me and knelt down to inspect his wounds. “Werewraith poison is not expelled that easily. If you try with your magic, you could cause it to spread faster.”
“The dowager said there is an antidote.” I tried to remember what I had learned about werewraiths and their poison.
Penelope nodded. “There is.” She put Tristan’s arm around her shoulders, and I helped her by taking the other. “Come, help him up. We’ll take him to my chambers and I will make the antidote.”
“But he won’t die, will he?” I asked, thinking of the priestess in the temple.
Penelope shook her head. “I hope not. Werewraith poison is resistant to most magic and can kill an immortal. But some of us healers always keep a small amount of ingredients for this antidote. It must be freshly made or it cannot work.”
Although I tried not to admit it to myself, I didn’t know what I would do if anything happened to Tristan. I had come to depend on him so much, and despite everything, he had become my friend. He was the only one I could trust. I wasn’t in love and I wasn’t under any illusions that I was. Rafe had destroyed that part of my heart. But Tristan was intelligent and handsome, a warrior without equal, and he was the Prince of the Night Court with an army to match. Being married to him wouldn’t be so bad. If I had to marry any of the High Fae and had a choice, I would have chosen him.
“What about my grandmother? Where is she?”
“Somewhere safe,” said Penelope. “Don’t worry about that now. Rhiannon knows what to do. She is also a skilled healer—she will do what she can to save Izadora’s life.”
Cade ran up to us and took Tristan, carrying the massive warrior to Penelope’s chambers.
“Who could have done this?” I asked Penelope as Cade gently laid Tristan down on the bed.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The wards around the whole kingdom have fallen. The city and this entire valley are exposed. The Elder Fae will put up what wards they can, but without Izadora, they won’t hold long.”
Tristan groaned, and I rushed to his side.
“I will make the antidote immediately.” Penelope turned to a wall in her room and waved her hand.
The wall fell away to reveal a small secret room that had walls stacked with books, shelves overflowing with vials and bottles, and small crystal decanters with swirling liquids of every color. A small wooden worktable was in the center of the room, covered with pewter and copper bowls of various sizes along with curious implements.
“I will need your help, Aurora. This potion is difficult to make and your magic can speed up the process.” Penelope took down books from the shelves and skimmed through them. “We must complete it before the poison reaches his heart.”
I proceeded to help her measure out liquids and heat them with my mage fire. She added powders and herbs and instructed me on what to do. Cade sat with Tristan while he went through the pain, a silent grimace the only indication of the agony he was in. Werewraith poison burned the fae from the inside; I could only imagine what it must feel like. And for this poison to take down Tristan and my grandmother, it must be very deadly.
But who would have wanted to harm my grandmother? It had to be someone on the inside. Skye had been standing near the portal when it opened. But as far as I knew she had no spirit magic, nor did Brianna. And if it wasn’t one of them, then who?
Penelope created the potion and fed it to Tristan. He could barely drink, and we had to force the liquid down his throat.
I looked at the fallen warrior who lay so still and pale on the bed. “Now what?”
“Now we wait,” said Penelope. “We cannot do any more. It all
