Page 11 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“Nickolas was raised here, too, and he doesn’t shy away from magic.” A sharp exhale rocks my friend’s lungs, and her hazelnut eyes fly to the ceiling.
“Twins share a special bond, but those two are like blood and water. How is dear Nickolas? He hasn’t visited since?—”
Mabel cuts me off. “He’s never been more involved in the family business, yet he still refuses to come home. That boy will be the death of me, I tell you.”
I take a careful sip of tea. “Max still struggles with being a witch. Nickolas might not be physically here, but he’s got his head in the game. You can’t expect her to take up your mantle anytime soon, not with the way things are going.”
Mabel presses her lips together, her fleeting smile wiped away in favor of a grave pout. “Speaking of unwanted baggage, I brought something with me. It’s in the trunk. Let’s get it now.”
Chapter 5
One Stormy Night
DEVI
“Icould ask Max to bring the crate inside if you prefer,” Mabel offers.
I tiptoe out into the street, scanning the sky for any signs of the cupids. “I’m good.”
After an attack, they usually fly back and forth over the city, tracing my steps back to where I first used my magic. What they lack in intelligence and strategy, they make up in speed and brute strength. I can’t feel their nauseating bite of power in the air at the moment, but I know they haven’t gone far.
Mabel twists her car keys in the trunk’s lock and lifts the lid. “I can’t keep it at my house any longer,” she announces on a heavy sigh.
A wooden box the size of a milk crate rests on top of Mabel’s reusable grocery bags. She pricks her thumb on the lock to open it. The rowan wood has been burnt to withstand the test of time, and the whines of the rusted hinges bring goosebumps to my neck. This box hasn’t been opened in a long, long time.
My breath catches. “Is that?—”
“Yes.”
Inside the box lies a golden spindle. Intricate Fae runes swirl across its surface, some ancient patterns etched into the shaft, and the carvings decorating the whorl’s beveled edge are impossibly smooth and precise.
As the worlds’ most talented arrow carver, I cannot even begin to understand the power and craftsmanship that went into making such an artifact. A dizzying flare of magic sparks from the crate, zapping my fingers as I inch my hand toward it, as though the spindle aches to be claimed and mounted upon a wheel once more.
A spindle rumored to alter the course of destiny.
“You’ve had the Spindle of the Gods in your attic all this time?” I say quietly, my fingers numb from its proximity, my tongue dry.
“It wasn’t an issue as long as nobody knew it was there,” she grumbles.
My gaze darts over to her. “And who knows now?”
“No one yet, but I can’t afford to keep it with me, not anymore. A new Mist King has been crowned the second the Eternal Chalice melted.”
My head swims at the news. “Do you know who he is?”
“No, but I felt his presence, as surely as I’m talking to you now. It won’t be long before he seeks me out.”
When she was young, Mabel was married to the Mist King, and her first husband almost destroyed the Fae when he tried to seize control of the continent. She lost her queenly powers when he died, but a part of him, along with a fraction of his magic, stayed with her.
“Why would he come for you? It’s been centuries since you’ve stepped foot on the Islantide.”
“We both know well how the magic of a realm is infused with certain…flavors of the past. Like muscle memory. The new Mist King will be eons younger than I am, but I’m still to blame for hisrealm’s downfall.” Mabel’s lids flutter closed, her face pale and riddled with grief.
“You only meant to stop Armand. You never condoned any of the cold-blooded murders that followed his demise.”
Deep lines appear around her tight mouth. “No, but my actions still led to a realm-wide genocide. If Armand had married anyone else, he would have become the one and only King of Faerie, and the Summer King wouldn’t have slaughtered all his people.”
“The slaughter of the Mist Fae was an unforgivable crime, and everyone involved was severely punished for it,” I say quickly.
