Heir of Iron Hearts: Iron Crown Faerie Tales Book 2 Page 14

  The Fae were not known to discriminate when it came to their more carnal desires, or so Ivy had learned in her recent studies. Still, Ardan’s dark eyes slid serpentine toward Jules, who smiled innocently, as if the question came from a place of genuine interest. Padraic, Ivy noticed, was smiling at Jules. But then, he caught Ivy watching him, and he cleared his throat, looking back at the map.

  “Enough,” he said. “We need to focus.”

  As Lochlan, Padraic, and Ardan began recalculating their formations, Ivy’s stomach doubled into a knot. Had she eaten anything, it would have been hastily deposited onto the floor. Her mother had known. Lyric had known what would happen to her, and she offered herself in Ivy’s place. So that Ivy wouldn’t be tortured. So that Ivy wouldn’t be harmed.

  Some missing piece rose up from the deep inside her, where the nothingness Ivy had harbored so long lived and breathed like a parasite within her. But something more swelled in her core, replacing the darkness she carried.

  Love.

  This was what it meant to have a mother. To be a daughter. To love another part of you so much, you’d be willing to die for it. Ivy understood it now. It was love that had led Queen Lyric to send Ivy to the human realm just after her birth. It was love that had just led her mother to make another dark exchange with the Summer Court. And it was love that would now drive Ivy to the depths of the sweltering Summer Court to bring her mother home.

  A few hours later, Ivy found herself in the middle of a fantastical world she had never believed existed outside her dreams. Yet, here she was in the Hawthorn Wood near the border of the Winter Court, wearing fighting leathers and surrounded by hundreds of Fae soldiers, dressed for battle and loaded down with weapons.

  She marched beside Jules, both of them surrounded by the Unseelie princes and the Winter guards. The last place in the world Ivy wanted to see Jules was a battlefield, but all things considered, her best friend was safer surrounded by those who could protect her. Ivy had given her guards explicit orders that they were to keep Jules safe at all costs. Lochlan and Bear flanked Ivy while Callum and Padraic stayed near Jules.

  To Ivy’s surprise, Ardan marched ahead of them all, leading them toward the portal to the Summer Court, looking ready to stab anything that got in his way. After what had been revealed about his relationship with her own aunt and her Court’s worst enemy, she still wasn’t sure she could trust him. The thought of him with Alena made her stomach twist, and she had to fight down a strong swell of nausea. But what choice did she have now but to trust him? Her mother was all that mattered. Now that his lover had tried to poison him—or at least didn’t care if he was poisoned in her effort to kill off Ivy and her mother—maybe he came to the logical conclusion that aligning with Winter was his only move.

  The only sounds that pierced the silence were the crunching of boots in the frozen snow, the staccato scampering of the terrifying Red Caps that flanked them, and the heavy padding of the Hellhounds peppered among the soldiers. There were archers and weapons experts and the Winter Magi, cloaked in their celestial blue robes and prepared to freeze Summer into a polar vortex if necessary to save their queen. The extraction team, clad in leathers the color of the Summer forest moved swiftly and silently ahead of them until finally they reached the portal.

  The Elder Tree.

  Deep within the Hawthorn Forest, though covered in heavy snow that weighed down the berry kissed branches, was the only way into the Summer Court. Through the Elder Tree, the oldest Hawthorn tree in the Seelie Realm. Its gnarled roots jutted out from the snow like twisted tentacles that planned to wrap around her ankles as soon as she passed through. The trunk was split into a thick Y that had reunited over the years and twisted together like a corkscrew. It stretched twenty feet high in a tangle of limbs peppered with berries and lethal thorns until it contorted back toward the ground, creating a living archway covered in snow and coated in ice.

  Magic, blue and electric, crackled around the archway and radiated outward in a half-circle of light. The power of it buzzed like a hive as they came closer and closer. Suddenly, Ardan held up his fist, signaling them to stop. Bear, Lochlan, Padraic, Callum, and another Winter Guard Ivy remembered as Holly fanned out to check the area before they proceeded. Ivy’s heart pounded. One of the Hellhounds nudged her back before settling down on its haunches, guarding her. Seated on its hind-quarters, its head was aligned with her shoulders, making it more the size of a bear. She had been on opposing sides of the Hellhounds when she had first entered the Winter court. She much preferred the alliance.

  Beside her, Jules shifted from one foot to the other, her boots squeaking against the snow as she moved.

  “What’s the hold-up?” Jules whispered.

  “I think they’re sending someone in to check the other side. Just to make sure. If the King is trying to keep Queen Lyric’s imprisonment under wraps, then there won’t be many extra guards on the other side of the portal.”

  “Ah,” Jules whispered. “Well, let’s hope the King likes secrets.”

  Finally, Padraic waved his hand in front of them, motioning them all forward. Bear and Lochlan dropped back to flank Ivy and Jules, sending the Hellhounds to walk in front of them. The buzzing sound rattled through Ivy’s head, so strong as they approached, she had to fight the urge to hold her ears against it. Bear’s hand settled into the small of her back as if to offer her comfort. Her own magic was so strong, the extra force within the portal was overwhelming.

  “Are you okay?” Jules asked. She seemed completely unaffected.

  “Fine,” Ivy lied. Really, though, she felt light-headed and suddenly filled with heat, like a hot flash.

  Bear steadied her. “Just breathe,” he whispered. “In through the nose and out through the mouth. Don’t fight against it. Let it consume you.”

  Closing her eyes briefly as Bear led her forward, Ivy let go of the tension in her neck and shoulders. She relaxed into the sound, leaning into the force of it until the buzzing became little more than white noise. Magic hummed through her veins, cooling her down. When she opened her eyes, they were just in front of the portal, ready to pass through. Jules took her hand as they stood before the portal, its magic waving like a curtain in front of them. When Ivy concentrated, she could see the clear night sky of the Summer Court in front of them.

  Squeezing Jules’ hand and taking comfort in Bear’s closeness, she stepped beyond the Winter Court she had sworn to protect.

  Chapter Thirty

  Alena stepped silently from King Zane’s private rooms, using the back stairwell only she and members of his guard could access. Slipping into the main hall was always the most difficult part. She waited behind the ancient wooden door, listening for any sign of servants or others who might be awake at the late hour.

  Even in Summer, the frivolities typically wrapped up by the early morning hours well before sunrise. Taking a deep breath, she cracked the door. She listened again, but the only sound was her heart beating in her ears. Opening the door wider, she stepped out and came face to face with a gigantic embroidered tapestry. Shuffling to the side, she peeked around the outer fringe of the wall hanging, staring into the dimly lit hallway.

  Empty.

  With a sigh of relief, Alena tiptoed into the hallway, her bare feet sticking to the stone floor in the humidity of Summer. It seemed there were perks to the Winter Court after all. She wasn’t a fan of the temperatures here, but she would endure it to gain Winter in the end. Still holding onto her shoes, she straightened her gauzy dress and tiptoed toward the main stairwell. Just as she was about to climb to the third level, soft voices floated down through space. Peeking around the corner, Alena spotted Prince Damarion leaning down over Violet, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks and neck.

  “You sure didn’t waste any time,” she said, stepping toward them.

  Violet’s pale cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but Damarion, still leaning toward her with a hand on the wall beside her, slid his eyes to Alena with an expressio
n of annoyance.

  “Do you mind, My Lady?” he asked coolly. “We’re busy.”

  “Don’t let me stop you,” Alena retorted. “Don’t forget who arranged your little reunion. She settled her lethal gaze on Damarion then. “The sun will rise in a few hours. Shouldn’t you be tending to your Summer Girls? What would the Queen say if she caught you in the stairwells with the human ex-princess of Winter?”

  Damarion looked as if he might like to kill her. “Whatever she would say to us would likely pale in comparison to her reaction towards you slinking around her palace at such an hour. We all keep secrets, Alena. Don’t forget who guard yours.”

  With another glance down at Violet, he relented.

  “However rude your intrusion, you are right. My Summer Girls are waiting.”

  He leaned down, brushing his lips over Violet’s.

  “Until tomorrow,” he said.

  Then, he turned his back to Violet and hurried down the stairs, turning the corner to the main hall and towards the royal rooms. Alena smiled at Violet, whose expression had wilted the moment he mentioned his Summer Girls.

  “I suppose it’s your humanity that longs for monogamy,” Alena says. “I’ve told you a thousand times, you have to keep the power in a relationship with a Summer royal. Look at King Zane. He has a dozen Summer Girls to occupy him, but who is the Queen most jealous of? And who does the King pine for?”

  “What do you want, Alena?” Violet asked. “I held up my end of the bargain. I helped you escape. You helped me get to this Court. I don’t owe you any more favors.”

  Alena shrugged. “I’m wounded, Violet. I am simply on my way to my room. I just couldn’t help but observe your progress with the young prince. I must admit, I’m pleasantly surprised. I honestly thought you would spend all of your time watching him silently from around corners, and here I found you in the midst of a romantic tryst.”

  Violet pushed away from the wall, glaring at her.

  “What’s the matter? No thank you for your dear auntie?”

  Violet turned toward her then. “Why didn’t you tell me about my mother? Why did I have to find out from Damarion?”

  So she did know. Oh, well. No matter. Violet had served her purpose by providing the key. It had freed her and given the Summer Guard access to the Winter Castle. Violet was of no use to her now.

  “Would you have helped me if I had told you what I was really up to?”

  “You know I wouldn’t have.”

  “Well, then I don’t see the need to answer your silly little question. Queen Lyric is in the lower dungeons, exactly where I want her, and King Zane is still like clay in my hands, molding to my will. Summer and Winter are on the brink of war, and when Lyric is out of the way—when Ivy is out of the way—Winter is mine. All I have to do is bide my time.”

  A shuffling noise behind her grabbed Alena’s attention. Violet was looking at something over her head. When Alena turned, she came face to face with Queen Vera, who was surrounded by Summer guards. Fully dressed in the green robes of Autumn, her auburn hair plaited and threaded with thick golden thread, Vera’s amber-colored eyes shone with satisfaction that was also reflected in her tight smile.

  “Thank you, Violet.” Queen Vera nodded at Alena’s niece.

  Stunned for a moment at the betrayal, Alena turned toward Violet, who dipped into a deep curtsy to the queen she served. The Queen Alena had delivered her to.

  “I would ask what you’re doing in the Summer Court, but there’s little point,” Vera said. “Our court’s Summer Girls and Gents may be esteemed and valued in our court for their unfaltering loyalty, but I can assure you, Alena, that a common harlot who betrays her own to lie with whatever king can best serve her ambitions has none.”

  Alena turned back toward Violet. “You betrayed me,” she hissed. “You will live to regret this.”

  “No,” Vera said. “Violet didn’t betray you.”

  “I did. The moment you stepped foot on the grounds of the Summer Palace.”

  The familiar voice floated toward her. Prince Damarion leaned casually against the stone wall, gazing over Alena’s head at Violet. Rage, more violent than Alena had ever experienced, rose from the deepest part of her core until she felt the fury flush in her cheeks.

  “You see, my son is the heir to Summer, but you failed to consider the portion of his blood that is bound to Autumn and loyal to me.” Vera crossed her arms and smiled. “You can only imagine how long I have waited for this moment.”

  Then, she signaled her guards with a flick of her wrists.

  They started towards her, but Alena would be prisoner to no one. Her magic wasn’t as strong in Summer, but there was no time for hesitation. She shut her eyes just as the guards closed in on her. She concentrated on the cold center in her chest, summoning all the Winter magic she could muster. Finally, she burst into a thousand snowflakes and sailed out of sight in a tiny blizzard of magic, the panicked voices of the Summer guard echoing behind her.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lyric paced inside the cold cell. It had been hours since she had asked Violet to summon Queen Vera. Had she carried her message? Had she been able to reach her? Or had she turned on Lyric altogether, abandoning her? And what of Ivy? Was she mobilizing their forces at this very moment? Or was she relishing the new power of being Queen?

  Take a deep breath, she reminded herself. Ivy would never forsake her.

  Still, the past haunted her. The things she had done. The decisions she had made. She had thought long ago that the risks were worth keeping Ivy safely nestled in the human realm, the last place Alena would ever look for her. Spending several hours in the most secret chambers of the Summer dungeon were making her rethink it all.

  She leaned against the wall, too weary to keep pacing but too worried to sleep. If Ivy came after her, she would make it up to her. She would reward her. Ardan’s betrayal with Alena had been an act of treason against both courts. It would be enough to break the contract forged in blood seventeen years ago. Lyric would release Ivy from her marriage contract, even if it cost Lyric her last breath.

  But was it already too late?

  Lochlan would see that the Winter Guard was mobilized, but what about Odrhan? If the Unseelie King had sent his force to aid Winter, what had Ivy promised in exchange?

  Lyric’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t eaten in hours, and her head still ached from the Oleander poisoning, which had already made her weak. If Ivy didn’t come for her, if Lochlan didn’t come for her, there was no way she could save herself.

  A sudden breeze rattled the door of her cell. Lyric lifted her head, her heart swelling with hope. Perhaps it was Queen Vera. But then the air around her grew cold. Frigid.

  Lyric scrambled toward the cell door, her eyes searching every corner for her daughter. Finally, the air warmed and a shadowy figure took shape several feet away. But it was Alena who stepped into the light. Not Ivy. Not Lochlan.

  Fear swam like a cold fish through her veins.

  “It seems my timeline has been cut in half,” her sister said.

  Lyric followed Alena with her eyes as she sauntered toward the table. Taking a knife by the hilt, Alena smiled and dipped the silver blade into a sweet-smelling liquid. Oleander and water—or oil, perhaps. Her heart thudded slowly and then sped as Alena turned toward her.

  “You mean to kill me, then?” Lyric asked. “Just like that? After all I’ve done for you and for your daughters?”

  Alena smiled, that cold, lethal smile she had always reserved for Lyric.

  “My daughters are mine, through and through. Once we’re rid of you and Ivy, we’ll all be back on the Winter throne. Teagan will wed Padraic and Slaine will marry Ardan. Winter will be mine, and my daughters will continue our line and our rule.”

  “It never had to be this way,” Lyric said. “I have always done everything within my power to keep you safe, to take care of you.”

  Alena laughed with a crazed, strangled sound. “You should have killed
me when you had the chance. That’s your problem, Lyric. That’s why Winter will always be overpowered. You’re too soft. Too kind and compassionate. Ruling a court is a game, and you’ve never been willing to play.”

  Lyric opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get the words out, Alena had turned, flicked her wrist, and sent the dagger barreling toward her, blade over hilt. A sudden forced knocked her backward, and she cracked her head against the wall. Warmth spread over the back of her head and down her neck as she slid down the wall. When she reached the stone floor, a burning pain screamed through her shoulder.

  The world tilted and blurred.

  Trying to blink herself sober, the prison door creaked open, and Alena came toward her in flashes, carrying another knife.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ivy had never seen so many stars in her life.

  The Summer sky was clear above them, and the heavens twinkled in the darkness like a million white Christmas lights. As she stepped over two stunned Summer guards that had been guarding the portal, her feet sank into a plush carpet of soft grass that squished beneath her boots when she walked. Hundreds of trees towered over her—the same Hawthorns that twisted up like tangled cyclones from the ground—only these weren’t covered in ice and snow. Instead of berries, they were blooming with white flowers that reflected the light from the moon and sparkling stars.

  “It’s breathtaking,” Ivy whispered.

  Beside her, Jules stared up at the sky. “I could totally live here,” she said. “I mean, you know, if they weren’t holding your mother captive and planning to annihilate your kingdom.”

  Ivy laughed nervously, trying to make sense of the fact that the beauty that surrounded her was the land of her enemies. Bear nudged her forward as their forces fanned out, transforming to shadows as they moved amid the trees and flowers. This place reminded her of summers spent at Kingston Academy. Once the trees had donned their full leaves, she had always felt as if the forest had swallowed the entire campus, engulfing it in a sort of natural magic. In the Summer Court fireflies blinked in the darkness, and the sounds of crickets and whippoorwills broke the silence with their mournful songs.