Page 92 of The Maleficent Faerie
“My soul was cloaked in shadow,” he says quietly. “Every dalliance with the Void soaked it in a heavier darkness, weighed me down with dread. Eventually, it would have killed me. But you, with your beautiful savagery of spirit—you sliced right through the heavy shroud over my soul. You kicked down the doors of my heart and stabbed me with the splinters, and I bled, and the blood reminded me that I was alive, that I was more than the dark hope to which I clung. You kissed me, and you woke me from death’s embrace. You gave me hope, rapture, agony, laughter. I want to stay awake, for you. Alive, for you.”
I’m shaking with the raw intensity of his confession, the naked truth of his heart exposed before all his people. No more masks or shadows. No more pretense.
“I was always wrong inside,” I begin, tremulously at first, but my voice strengthens with the urgency to communicate what I feel for him. “I was different. Crooked.Theymade me crooked, put their fingers into my mind and body, saying it was to protect me, claiming they knew best. And they lied to me—but you—my curse, my captor—you told me the truth. You unmade me and put me back together as I should have been. And you didn’t mind that I was angry, wounded, unhealed. You didn’t mind my scars—the ones I will always carry.”
Malec releases a shuddering breath, and I know he’s thinking of his own scarred face and body. My eyes blur with tears, and I clutch his hands tightly in both of mine.
“I love you beyond reason, with all the persistence of revenge and all the violence of hate. I love you with the bones beneath my flesh and the blood in my veins. I love you into the deepest dark and under the harshest light. Let me be your Forever. You are already mine.”
“Yes,” Malec whispers, his eyes shining.
The High Priestess moves her palms to our foreheads, lifting her face to the suns. “With the truth of two hearts I bind this marriage, in words of power and ties of magic. May the joy of Eonnula live in you both and bless your union. A kiss will seal it, and the goddess shall sanctify it.”
I lunge for Malec, and he wraps me up against him, his mouth searing mine with a heated promise, while the crowd erupts around us. I kiss him twice more, lavish and lingering. But my plan isn’t complete... not yet.
“We’re bound now,” I murmur into Malec’s ear. “The Conduit of Caennith, bound to a powerful Fae. Such a thing has never happened.”
I sense it—the moment when he understands. He stiffens, grips my shoulders, pushes me back slightly so he can look into my eyes. “Oh shit. You beautiful, brilliant, magnificent woman. Why didn’t I think of it?”
“Oh, I’m not done being brilliant yet.” I snap my fingers at the Caennith Priest. “You there. Stand with the High Priestess and lead these people in worship. Let it be the loudest, wildest song you ever sang. We need a Surge bigger than any in our history, and you’re going to lead us into it.”
He hesitates, pouting a little—but as I suspected, the prospect of such glory is irresistible, and he bounds forward, shucking off his robe and shouting for music.
The royal musicians heed the Priest’s call, beginning a glorious swell of song. At first the Daenalla look very uncomfortable, cringing and staring as the Caennith Fae and humans begin to dance and sing and leap.
But the High Priestess steps forward, beginning a low chant that resonates beneath the wild music, strengthening and deepening it. The Daenalla join her, one after another, street after street, until the city and the countryside tremble with the rolling bass notes and the hectic rhythm of dancing feet.
The crowd’s emotions are running high already, fueled by the dramatic awakening of the Void King and by the surprise wedding. Their fervor is reaching manic intensity, and despite the sheer numbers and the presence of divergent faiths, the harmony they produce is so beautiful I can barely inhale. I feel as if my heart might swell right out of my chest, shattering my ribcage. I’m fairly sure I’m crying without meaning to—my cheeks feel hot and wet.
I pull Malec close and speak low, beneath the surging music. “I don’t know exactly what will happen. If my theory is correct, you and I should both be Conduits now, because the spouse of the Conduit becomes one too. But there’s never been a Fae Conduit before, so I don’t know how it will work, or how it will feel. When the Surge occurs, if you receive it, don’t release it outward to the crowd. Channel it upward, to the sky. We’re going to punch a hole in the ceiling of this realm and let the Void in.”
He winces, hesitation and fear in his eyes. The Void tore him apart last time. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want to face it again.
But I touch his cheek, willing him to have courage. “I couldn’t convince everyone to congregate near the Edge. I needed to bring them somewhere safe, somewhere they would agree to gather. But there’s no Void here, so we have to summon it from the nearest access point.” I point upward.
“You want to try my barrier spell?”
“Something like it, yes. Since you’re a Conduit now, you won’t need a Spindle to channel and gather the Void. All you need is yourself. There’s enough life here to entice the Void, and when it comes, you’re going to gather it and create something new. You had the right idea—making the Void work against Itself. But you’ve spent so long playing the defensive side, you didn’t go far enough.”
I slide my hand down to his chest, clasping a fistful of his robes. “For me, an effective defense has always meant a quick, merciless offense. Instead of making a barrier out of the dark, you have to create something bigger—a monster formed from the Void that will devour the Void. The largest Endling you’ve ever conjured, laced with the light of the goddess Herself. Do you understand? Can you see it? Because I can’t do this without you.”
He nods. “I see it. I understand.”
“Good. We may have to adjust the plan depending on what happens.”
“We’ll keep talking to each other, communicating what we feel.” His eyes sparkle with determination. “This just might work. If it does, I’ll be your slave endlessly.”
“I thought you already were.” I give him a small smile.
He laughs and takes my face in his hand, pulling me in for a kiss.
The people scream for us, for the goddess, for the Light—a fever pitch of explosive praise.
I feel it coming—a cosmic wave of magic, shaking the city with the force of its power.
“Now!” I scream to Malec, to the High Priestess. “Now, now!”
I grab Malec’s hand, lift it high. With my other hand I seize the Caennith Priest’s fingers, while the High Priestess holds onto both him and Malec.
