Page 111 of A Court of Hearts and Hunger
Of all the living Seelie, I alone know how quickly and terribly the Unseelie can turn from adoration to aggression.
The roaring lust of the crowd, the motion of the Queen’s blood-slicked jaws, chewing, chewing—
My heart starts racing, and a sickening chill bursts over my skin.
A memory seizes me by the throat—sharp nails against my quivering flesh, fangs sinking into my skin, lips closing over me, the hideous suction, the ripping of my body—
Nausea stabs through my gut while I claw for my sanity, for the shreds of the plan… the plan… what I’m supposed to do now…
What the fuck was I supposed to do?
Why don’t they stop screaming for two fucking seconds?
Why doesn’t she stop chewing, chewing…
I clutch my temples, and I gnash my teeth because I’m stronger than this… I’m strong now… Of all the moments I could collapse itcannotbe this one—Clara needs me, she—
A tail whips around my leg and I leap back, snarling, my wings stirring under my cloak. The Unseelie who touched me looks startled at first, then angry.
Faces, seething and smiling, slavering and biting—so many faces—
The crowd is closing in around me, sensing my weakness, the horrible paralysis of my mind in this moment—they are sharks, and I am the bleeding prey in the water.
And then Clarais at my side, spraying a circle of orange fire into the crowd, a spell from one of the rings I gave her.
“Get back!” she screams, her Fae features so incisively beautiful I nearly fall to the ground before her. She sprays more fire, yelling, “Don’t you dare touch him, any of you!”
She hauls me backward with her, up the steps, onto the platform.
“You’re all right, Fin,” she says tightly. “I won’t let them hurt you. And look, it’s working. Look at the Queen.”
But I can’t. If I see her horrible teeth chewing the arteries, rending the heart’s-flesh—I will lose my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I should have—I was supposed to—”
“You were supposed to give the Court some candies to make them confused,” she says. “It’s all right. We’ll do without that part of the plan.”
“I can still do it,” I grit out. I’m coming back into myself, dragging the shreds of my confidence together, because she’s here—she is with me. My dearest, my only.
Clara holds my heart. My soul and my mind—they are always secure in her.
And suddenly my fear of fate, my anxiety, my superstitious caution—it all shrinks down to nothing, and I crush it into dust.
I love you.
The words are a rope thrown to a drowning man. They are life and truth. They are victory.
“Clara.” I clutch her shoulders, seeing my strength in those brave brown eyes. “Dearest, I love you.”
Her mouth forms a startled, delighted O, and the expression is so adorable I can’t help laughing, even as the Unseelie around the foot of the dais shout with angry confusion. Some of them glower suspiciously at Clara and me, while others stare at the Queen, shrieking and pointing.
My strength is coming back, and the memories have receded deep in my mind again, thank the god-stars. No, thanks to Clara.
“The courtyard is so large, I suspect most of these Fae still aren’t sure what’s going on,” I tell her. “There is still time for my trick.”
Lifting my hands, I send out a storm of glittering black gumdrops, each infused with a mild spell for confusion and dizziness. Given more time and enough supplies, I could make sweets that would knock each of them out cold. But this mild, temporary spell will have to do.
“Feed your heads, darlings,” I mutter, as the Unseelie begin to jump for the candies and stuff handfuls into their mouths.
