“I haven't seen griffins in so long." I reached out and allowed the griffin to nudge its head against my fingertips. Its warm breath fanned over my skin and its curved beak poked against my hand. Without warning, it dropped to its knees, turning its head inquisitively as it seemed to wait for my next move.
“She’s accepted you," Damien said with a smile. "That’s an invitation to climb on her back."
I ran my fingers through her luxurious white feathers as I settled onto soft, golden fur and a firm saddle. Like most magical beings of myth and legend, griffins were native to Faerie, and they served as transportation for the nobles of the different courts. “It's good to know I haven't lost my touch with magical beings after all these years."
Damien mounted the griffin beside me. "I never had any doubts."
My companions were seated behind the fae riders, and I was the only one honored with a griffin of my own. I hoped I remembered how to ride one.
Once everyone was settled on their griffins, our beasts leaped into the air and spread their wings, taking us toward the castle and one of the most dangerous men alive—the High King of the Fae.
8
Hannah
We flew through the air toward Oberon’s castle, and riding the griffin was entirely different from flying under the power of my own wings, with her sleek muscles flexing beneath my thighs and the steady beat of her wings sending currents of air to wash over me.
The castle loomed before us, sparkling in the sunlight as if the entire building was made of crystal. Perhaps it was. Turrets stretched high into the air, with colorful flags representing each of the different courts waving slowly against the blue sky. Even here there were trees and flowers everywhere, seamlessly woven into the architecture. The fae were deeply in tune with nature and the elements, one of the few things I missed about being one of them.
The griffins set down in the courtyard in front of the palace, where dozens of guards in elaborate silver armor and plumed helmets were stationed. A man in fine livery stood on the wide steps leading up to the massive door inlaid with gems and carved with ancient runes. He bowed low as I approached, with my guards and companions fanning out behind me, and my sons at my side.
"Your majesty, the High King is expecting you," he said. "Please follow me."
The man cast a slightly disparaging glance over my group as the door opened behind him, moving silently despite its size. He led us inside the palace, into a great entry filled with more guards and a few noble fae dressed in their finest clothes with hair in every shade of the rainbow. I looked closely, but didn't recognize any of them. Not really a surprise, since it had been many centuries since I'd been Persephone, and I'd spent much of my time in Hell during that life anyway.
As the man led us further into the castle, I took in my surroundings and felt like I'd gone back in time—or stepped into my previous life. Almost nothing had changed in hundreds of years in this castle, and I suspected that was true of all of Faerie. Technology didn't work in this realm, and the fae were resistant to change in general. It was one reason they preferred to stay neutral in conflicts and to live in isolation here in Faerie, with very few people coming or going from this realm.
An air of hushed calm hung in each of the spaces we moved through, until we stopped in a waiting room outside two large doors that I remembered led to the throne room. There were other fae here chatting with each other, all nobles judging by their clothes and the jewels decorating their bodies. Each one was dressed in elegant clothes that looked like something from the 1800s, and they gave us judgmental looks as we entered. My group was all dressed for combat, not courtly life, but there was nothing to be done about that now.
A tall, willowy woman stood by the window, and she wore a pastel pink gown of the finest silk. Her hair was the color of purple hydrangea and atop it was a crown similar to Damien's, but much more elaborate. She turned slowly, revealing herself in such a way that my breath froze in my chest.
“Mother?” I stepped forward to greet her, but her periwinkle blue eyes were cool and devoid of care as she leveled her gaze at me. Demeter was the Queen of the Spring Court and my mother when I'd been Persephone. It had been many centuries since I'd seen her, and my heart overflowed with joy at the thought of reconnecting with another member of my family.
She took me in slowly, her eyes scanning me head to toe while a tight frown crossed her lips. “You’re not my daughter in this life.”
I drew back as if she'd slapped me across the face. How could she be so callous and cruel? My children were no less mine because this wasn’t the body that had birthed them, and she would always be my mother, no matter how long it had been.
“Mother, please." I hated explaining myself, and tried not to sound weak as I asked for the recognition of our relationship. "I know I've been gone for a long time, but I’ve regained my memories and my powers. I am truly your daughter once more. In mind and spirit, if not in body.”
"I mourned my daughter's death. She is gone, and you...you are a stranger." She walked past my group, leaving the fragrance of lavender in her wake.
