Page 79 of Samhain

Another scream. Another shout.

“Quick! Under the stage,” the queen shouted, thrusting Poppy into my arms. “Go!”

24

Miri

I wasn’t sure what was happening until Ivy yanked me under the wooden platform with her. We huddled together near a thick wooden beam while my heart pounded and my hands balled into fists, my body seemingly unable to move.

In front of us, the sea of bodies parted, revealing a tall enigmatic man wearing a black leather trench coat and an opulent breastplate made of a shimmery dark metal. His hair matched his outfit, as did his thick beard, making him impossibly more beautiful than the queen. He emanated a similar magnificence as her, but…darker. More violent and turbulent.

“My love,” he said, holding his arms out to either side.

That voice. A crack splintered through a barrier in my memories I hadn’t known existed until that moment, my mind shifting and breaking apart only to be put back together again.

I shoved that into a compartment to analyze later, choosing instead to focus on getting out of there. He stepped toward the stage, linking his arms behind his back and setting his black eyes on the queen above us. The floorboards creaked with her movements, moving from one side to the other as she seemingly shifted her weight.

“How lovely it is to see you,” he continued. “I trust you spent your Samhain in a manner befitting a queen.”

“You know me too well.” She tried to mask it, but a stammer in her voice indicated how shaken up she was by his visit. Ashley said their queen was tired and worn out by the ritual. The unexpected arrival of her estranged husband must have been the last thing she wanted. “Please. To what do I owe this great honor?”

He came closer, climbing the stairs to the stage, his boots clinking against the wood in a terrifying rhythm. I didn’t know why he couldn’t tell that four of his despised humans were hiding under here with the child he wanted to kill. But I held my breath to keep the secret going. One wrong move, one wrong sound, he’d look down and see us. There’d be little we could do to stop him after that.

I grabbed Ivy’s hand and squeezed it tight, hoping if he saw us, we could withstand his wrath together.

“I’ve come to make a deal.” The king’s voice held such opulence and magic, it washed over me like sugarcoated dew on a spring morning. I wanted to revel in it. I wanted to throw myself at his feet and beg for his leniency, but I knew that was only because of his fairy allure. Whatever it was that gave fairies their strength, it made humans want them.

“What deal?” The queen sounded frustrated, rightfully so, but managed to maintain a calm demeanor.

“The child for our peace.” The words echoed over the crowd, almost as if he wanted everyone to know about the trade.

The queen made a high-pitched laugh, almost metallic and tinkling like crystal glasses. “What makes you think I’ll sacrifice an innocent child for your selfish pride?”

“She’s far from innocent.” The conviction in the king’s tone made me pause and glance over to Poppy in Carter’s arms.

What the hell could he mean by that?

“You have no idea the power that resides in that one little human.” The king tsked like she was beneath him, as was this entire charade.

The queen sighed and moved away from him toward her throne, judging by the creak overhead.

“Do I not?” The stage shifted like maybe she sat. “I created her. I gave her life. I know everything about her.”

“You perverted her.” The king moved closer, and we huddled tighter together, collectively united in our fear of this powerful fairy who supposedly hated us. “You mutated her with our magic. Come, my love. You must see how that is not natural.”

“Poppy is extraordinary.” The queen cleared her throat. “And she is my child. You and I do not need to agree on this. You only need to live with it.”

“Live with it?” The king scoffed like she’d offended him, and my heart rate sped up as I tightened my fingers around Ivy’s grip. “How can I live without you? How can you live without me?”

They’re dual spirits, Smythe had said.

One can not live without the other, Ashley had reiterated.

“I manage.” The queen did not sound convincing. If anything, she seemed heartbroken.

“Come, Diana,” the king pleaded, using a name no one had dared mutter up until now. Her real name. The name between them. “Let us reconcile. I see you have already purged your retinue of the filth that once polluted it.”

Filth.

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