Page 38 of The Blood Queen

The sweat along my spine had turned to ice. Everything related to Amal aroused alarm and a blinding anger I had trouble controlling. Like a pounding migraine coming on for hours before it hit with enough strength to keep me down for days.

No, thank you. But Fallon’s stare triggered the guilt, and I paced around, too restless to relax. I wanted revenge. Amal was busy destroying lives, and Barend was in on the act. Mosbach—did he know Barend was making hybrids? Or didn’t he care? Just excused his behavior by calling the wolves catalysts? Trash he eliminated?

Maybe if I read Amal’s words, traced her handwriting, I’d find something useful. A way to fight her. Fight them.

My teeth ground together until my jaw ached. I was so tired of feeling useless. Tired of needing to act grateful for being treated like an invalid. Ever since the lament, my emotions had been on a roller coaster. Euphoric one minute because I was doing something, fighting back, then I’d become a weeping mess, crying in the bathroom so Caerwen wouldn’t be concerned.

I rubbed hard at my arms again, the tiny hairs that stood on end. Maybe if I went to the archive. Brought home my box of mementoes. They might make me feel more at ease.

Or you could go read the damn journal, Noa.

The glass sliding doors opened onto a patio, and my hands jerked when I touched the handles. I still wasn’t used to the sizzle of magic against my skin. Anson’s wards were like walking through an invisible electric fence and getting zapped with annoyance. Don’t cross here!

I decided against wandering outside. But as I turned, I saw Effa. She was watching me from the doorway to the guest room she shared with Caerwen. “Did Fallon make you worried, No-ee?”

“I worry more about her than what she said,” I told Effa. “You’re wearing the daisy dress again.”

“I had to.” The nymph plucked at the petal skirt that had a wilted look. “I didn’t pack enough last time.”

“It’s still lovely. Reminds me of spring.”

“I wish we didn’t have to go.”

“It’s only for a few days,” I reminded her. “You don’t want to shrink into oblivion, do you?”

“We hear you crying in the shower, you know.” Effa crossed her arms and frowned. “But Caerwen says we shouldn’t be snoops and ask what’s wrong.”

Advice neither of them followed. “I’m fine.”

“We don’t want you going away again… in your head. To that… black place.”

“Effa—”

“I care about you,” she blurted. “You’re my friend. I’d be lonely without you.”

I sat down hard on the bed. “You’re special to me, too. And Caerwen,” I added when the grotto nymph fluttered into view behind Effa. “I wouldn’t survive without either of you.”

“Yes, you could.” Effa was emphatic. “You can survive anything.”

“I wouldn’t want to survive without you,” I clarified.

“Oh, No-ee… you can’t say things like that.” Effa’s face had paled. “The magic hears and makes it true.”

“The magic wouldn’t dare,” I threatened, glancing around, unsure if the magic in Carmag was the same puppy magic I’d encountered elsewhere, or if it was different. But I had the nonsensical conviction that if I glared hard enough, I’d intimidate this magic.

Vines popped from the room corners, evidence of Effa’s unruly emotions, and I said, “Why don’t we wander through the Alpha’s Woods before you have to leave?”

“Can’t.” She shook her head, black and red curls bobbing. “A cat hides in the bushes, waiting to eat us.”

One more reason to be angry at Anson, even if it was illogical to assume he’d arranged for a cat to harass the nymphs. “I’ll speak to the Alpha.”

“Oh, No—ee. You would? Because the cat nearly got Caerwen when she didn’t see him coming, and he was right there before I screamed.”

“Maybe you could do me a favor, too?” I suggested. “Can you ask Aine what she knows about Amal? Aine has been alive for centuries. Surely, she was here first. Ask if she knows how the kings stripped away the queens’ wolves.”

Both nymphs looked stricken.

Effa spoke first. “Um, she probably won’t answer that.”

---