Page 142 of The Fae Warrior's Queen

The small woman, who’s been hanging back by the presents, sighs heavily as she approaches the crowd.

The fae step out of the way for her automatically, and whether it’s because they respect her or they’re scared of her, I’m not sure.

At four feet tall, her size isn’t intimidating, but she manages to make people uneasy anyway. I don’t know her, but she has quite the reputation for being extremely snarky. She often comes across as cold and arrogant because she’s got a shit ton of magic up her sleeve, and as a troll, it’s just in her nature to be aloof.

But now she’s humble with her head down. Her gray hair is pinned up in an elaborate style with braids, showing her frown and furrowed eyebrows. Toying with the pink satin and lace around her wrists, she gives away her nerves.

Once she’s with Damon, she says, “Your Majesty, if this were a nefarious event brought on by enemies, I would have seen it coming. I’ve felt off for the past couple days, but I didn’t know why, so Whitley and I did a spell specifically for the purpose of seeing what the dark fae are up to. We saw nothing like this.”

“We didn’t investigate further,” Whitley admits, sounding remorseful. “We should’ve tried harder to see the future.”

“It’s not your fault,” Damon assures his mate, but she makes a noise of distress.

“Yes, it is. Two weeks ago, I had a dream. A nightmare. It was a premonition, and the vision showed me a barren wasteland that used to be the Dream Realm. Everything was in ruins. There was ash and soot in the air. I couldn’t breathe, and there was this feeling of loss and hopelessness.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I thought I was being shown the Lost Land. I assumed the dream was telling me we’d be there at some point, but that wasn’t a surprise. We’ve always known we might have to go to that universe to retrieve Ro and Zaylee.”

My heart twists.

Because I’m touched. Damon and Whitley don’t even know me, yet they’d be willing to travel to hell to save me.

“Do not take the blame, Your Majesty,” Oriantus says to his queen. “This is an unfortunate natural occurrence that no one could have predicted. Not even me.”

“Well, now that it’s almost here, what do you see, Astrid?” Damon asks. “We’ll survive this, won’t we?”

There’s an ominous pause. “Oriantus isn’t overreacting when he says we need to evacuate, and I trust Whitley’s vision. If we want to live, we need to leave.”

“Where are we to go?” Kirian’s voice is strained with stress.

“I’d suggest escaping to the Earth realm.”

“And live there permanently?” Aghast, Kirian’s unsatisfied sentiment is shared, judging by the sour faces of the nobles.

Choosing to adapt to a human body means giving up so much—magical powers, the ability to fly, and living thousands of years. That last one is the biggest sacrifice of all. Anyone who decides to spend the rest of their days earthside will have a normal human lifespan, with sickness and pain they wouldn’t have to endure here.

“It’s better than dying right now,” Astrid states bluntly. “The Day Realm is also an option because while the area will suffer some effects from the damage, the land won’t be destroyed. However, the suns might be blocked by ash for a while, and that could lead to crop failure and food shortage. King Zander, if you’re going to take refugees in, you must be aware that an influx of people will cause strife in your kingdom.”

“Anyone is welcome.” My son doesn’t hesitate to offer up his hospitality, and I’m so proud of him in this moment. “Our borders are open. We’ll make it work.”

“Hold on a second,” Damon cuts in. “You seriously expect us to abandon our kingdoms? Astrid, you know us better than that. We’re not running away.”

Kirian bands together with Damon. “I agree. There has to be a way we can stay.”

The little witch sighs again. “I thought you’d say something like that. All right, then. The other option is physical interference.”

“Physical interference?” Damon parrots.

“Fight. Treat the meteors like any other enemy.”

“She’s right.” Oriantus backs up Astrid’s suggestion. “If we were able to break them into smaller, less destructive pieces, we’d have a chance. Pyros could fly up to intercept the meteors and blast them with fire. The rocks will already be cold from the high altitude, and the extreme heat could make them crack.”

“Who has fire power?” Kirian asks, starting the process of forming a solution.

Several of the nobles in the crowd shuffle forward. No questions asked, they volunteer as they go into the foyer.

Their courage is inspirational, and I feel silly huddling by this wall when I really want to see what’s happening on the other side of it.

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