I walked over the shadows with Drayce on my right and climbed the stairs to the throne’s cushioned seat. Once Osmos and Rosalind took their positions around me, I turned my attention to the sea of expectant faces.
My heart plummeted like a stone through a pond, filling my chest with ripples of sadness. These were the humans who were either taken by the faeries too long ago, or those stolen as babies and never got to know their names or families. It would take more than a day to work out how to care for them.
Gathering my courage with a deep breath, I wracked my brain to work out how to care for these displaced humans. “Who’s first?”
Cathbad puffed up his chest. “Me.”
“You’ve already had your turn with Her Majesty and her secretary,” squeaked a tiny voice. It belonged to a foot-tall sprite who flew toward Cathbad on transparent wings the exact shade of mint leaves.
Pointed, green ears protruded from a shamrock-colored head shaped like a daffodil bulb, and a pair of butterfly antennae curled from her crown. She wore a flowing gown of emerald leaves with a necklace made of tiny mistletoe berries.
Cathbad bared his teeth and snarled. “What would an oak sprite possibly want except for more acorns?”
“Enough.” I raised my palm and beckoned the little faerie forward.
“Someone else must have a chance to speak,” I said.
“Your Majesty.” Her voice was as gentle as the rustling leaves.
“Speak up,” said Osmos.
The sprite dipped her head and wrung her hands. I glanced at Drayce, who shrugged.
What did I know about oak sprites? The Book of Brigid called them Sióg darach, and they were guardians of sacred oaks, ancient trees that dated back to the days when the gods roamed the earth.
They weren’t dangerous unless a person tried to attack their trees, then they would attack like a swarm.
I leaned forward on the throne. “Come closer.”
She drifted toward me on buzzing wings. “Your Majesty,” she whispered. “I come from Mound Phortaigh, which has been under a sleeping curse for three decades. With no one to maintain our territory, moss has invaded our mound and fungus now grows at the root of our oak. If you don’t help us, my entire clan and the oak we protect will die.”
I placed a hand over my mouth. One of the other Courts of the Living was placed under a similar curse. If we helped this sprite, we might also awaken the Summer Court Prince.
“Where is your mound?” I asked.
The sprite’s face hardened, and she charged at me like an angry hornet, moving so fast that green spores flew from her tiny body.
Drayce stepped into her path, a mass of shadows bursting from his outstretched hand. Rosalind wrapped an arm around my back and launched us to the ceiling.
My heart lurched, and a gasp tore from my lips. Screams burst around the throne room, accompanied by the sound of escaping feet. Why would she try to attack before giving me a chance to help?
By the time I caught my breath and glanced down, Drayce lay face-first on the throne steps.
Chapter 4
A scream caught in the back of my throat. I lurched forward, trying to reach Drayce, but Rosalind floated higher, her wings rustling like autumn leaves. She tightened her grip around my middle and squeezed my lungs so tightly that I could barely breathe.
“Let me down,” I said through labored breaths.
“My apologies, Your Majesty.” Her voice was low, solemn, as though she carried a century of sorrow. “One queen has died under my protection. I cannot allow another.”
Below us, guards appeared from the far walls of the room. Some charged to the throne’s steps, others shoved the humans onto the ground. Osmos knelt at Drayce’s side, rolled him onto his front, and opened his velvet jacket.
We were so high up that I couldn’t see if he was still alive, and the only thing that kept me sane was the knowledge that he had survived the Keeper’s poison. He could survive a sprite… Couldn’t he?
“Assassin,” Cathbad’s scream made the fine hairs on my neck stand on end. “I told you tree sprites were evil.”
I elbowed Rosalind, but she didn’t even flinch. “King Drayce is my mate. I command you to release me.”
“Queen Pressyne said the same when Osmos informed her of Melusina’s evil intentions, but she refused to listen.”
“Osmos,” I shouted. “Report.”
He tilted his head up. “I cannot detect any toxins or poison, Your Majesty. Nor can I detect any visible wounds.”
“What did she do?” I growled.
“Why don’t you ask her?” Aengus strode across the room, holding the struggling sprite in his raised fist. “I caught this one trying to escape.”
“Did she have any accomplices?” asked Rosalind.
“None that I could see.” Aengus shook the sprite until her head lolled to the side.
I clenched my teeth. “Don’t damage her until she tells us what she did.”
Aengus inclined his head and lowered his fist.
Osmos placed his palms over Drayce’s chest, and white magic glowed beneath his hands. I slumped in Rosalind’s arms, powerless to help, powerless to do anything but hope to the saints that Drayce would rise and extract the sprite’s soul from her worthless body. Instead, he remained motionless at the foot of the steps.
Dark clouds filled my mind as I imagined a life in this realm without Drayce. Now that the restraints on his magic were gone, the Otherworld might have recalled him to take his throne. We had only just found each other, only just broken his curse. If he didn’t survive this, I wasn’t sure how I would cope.
Rosalind murmured something comforting but her words couldn’t penetrate my veil of sorrow.
The guards restrained the faeries and humans below and marched them out of the throne room, leaving Aengus, Osmos, and Drayce alone.
As Rosalind lowered me to the floor, Osmos disappeared into a side door and returned holding an iron cage with gloved hands. He opened its door, plucked the sprite from Aengus’ fist, and stuffed
