The Last Faerie Queen (28 page)

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Authors: Chelsea Pitcher

Tags: #teen, #teen lit, #teen reads, #ya, #ya novel, #ya fiction, #ya book, #young adult, #young adult fiction, #young adult novel, #young adult book, #fantasy, #faeries, #fairies, #fey, #romance, #last changeling, #faeries, #faery, #fairy queen, #last fairy queen

BOOK: The Last Faerie Queen
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39

T
ayl
o
R

As I watched Kylie dangle in midair, I wanted to race over to her. Wanted to swing my sword like a madman, cutting down anyone in my path. But I couldn't. Something was holding me back.

Literally. A hand around my neck.

I turned, twisting out of his grip, feeling the bruises forming. Damn, this guy was big. But I guess you'd have to be, to play bodyguard to the Dark Prince.

“Guess the nymph didn't kill you?” I snarled, circling him.

Olorian waved a hand. His skin was as black as the Unseelie Forest, as black as the polished spires of the castle. I followed his gesture to the twisted body of a nymph on the ground.

No, no, no.

I felt my muscles clenching, to protect me from the nausea. I felt my brain whispering stories:
she might not be dead.
I felt my reflexes bending over backward as waves of shock washed over me, making it impossible to process such destruction. Death. Game over. The end.

Who could process that?

Even now, as that great, hulking mass stumbled toward me, his footfalls shaking the ground, his hands large enough to crush me like a soda can, my body just acted, leaping out of his grip. Doing what was necessary to survive.

A miraculous thing, really.

Sure, think of miracles. Think of beauty, as bodies lie twisted all around. That's appropriate.

But I couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop searching for signs of life, of beauty, amongst all the blood and broken bones. I needed that balance. I needed that hope.

Especially now, as Olorian approached, grinning. “Well, well, well,” he said, his mouth a gaping abyss. “If it isn't the boy who sullied the princess.”

“Maybe after I kick your ass, I can sully her some more.”

Whoa. Did I just say that? It seemed like the guy I was in my mind and the guy I was in real life were merging into the same person. The one who stared into the face of danger and laughed. The one who didn't let insecurity keep him from doing what he wanted.

Well, this I could work with.

I reached into my belt, drawing out my sword. “Maybe after all is said and done, I can sully her brains out.” I grinned, swinging the sword with expert precision. (At least, this is what I told myself.) “And she can sully mine.”

Olorian swiped at me, his nails catching my shoulder as I jumped away.

“See, that's the problem with big guys,” I taunted, swinging the sword again. My back didn't even hurt anymore, not like it had. That's what happens when you mix faerie drugs with adrenaline.

A dangerous cocktail, my friend,
I thought and laughed.

“You think you're so tough, but you move too slow, and this happens.” I sliced the sword once, then twice, slashing a long, red X across Olorian's stomach. “That's why, in a bet, I'd take a scrapper over a big guy anytime.” I lashed out again.

This time, his hand went
around the blade
and pulled forward.

Shit.
I'd forgotten how easily faeries could heal. If I was going to do damage, it needed to be of the mortal variety. And it needed to be fast.

Kylie was shrieking from her corner of the battlefield as faeries clawed the air, waiting to welcome her into their circle. When an arrow hit one of them in the back, I knew Alexia was closing in.

Time to join her
, I thought, and tightened my grip on the sword's hilt. I yanked the blade out of his hand.

Olorian yelped like a dog that's been stepped on, and I stumbled backward. I mean, I pretended to stumble. Then I pretended to fall, angling my head so it landed on a rock. In reality, I w
as using my arm to cushion the fall, but Olorian was distracted, staring at his mangled hand.

When he looked at me, the sword resting loosely in my palm, my eyes closed, he thought I'd been knocked out.

He started to laugh. Then he strode over to me. Those footfalls were heavy, and I had to close my fingers, just a little, to keep the sword from clattering to the ground.

Olorian stood over me, chortling loudly. “That's it? That's all you've got?”

He kicked my gut, and I tried not to wince.

Just a little closer
, I thought.

And yes, he leaned in. “That's the problem with you mortals,” he said. I closed my hand around the hilt. “You think you're so incredibly special, but you're
nothing
. You've no power and no magic, you weak,
pathetic parasite.”

Come on,
I thought.
Threaten Elora. Threaten my reason for living, so I can slice you into pieces.

It was an odd thought to have, but probably not uncommon. How many of us would defend our loved ones before we'd defend ourselves? Like Kylie had said, she might not kill to save her own life, but she'd kill for Alexia.

Wait, what did that say about us? We would kill for others, but not for ourselves? No, I couldn't be that person. I needed to live for myself. Needed to believe I was worthy of life. After that, Elora and I could fight alongside each other.

But first, I needed to live for
me
.

“Sweet dreams, foolish mortal,” Olorian said, preparing to smash me into oblivion. When he lifted his arm, I lifted mine.

Mine had a sword in it.

He lunged, and I lunged too. Together, we found each other, but his fist didn't meet my flesh. My blade met skin, then muscle, then bone. It slipped into him like a hand slips into water. And it just kept slipping, as red, gushing liquid rushed out of him. (It helped to think of it as “liquid” and not something else.) It didn't stop slipping until the hilt slammed into his ribs. The sound was … unfortunate. Sharp and grating, but also wet. Like grinding a stone in a swamp. I almost lost my lunch then. Almost lost everything I'd ever eaten.

And then I did.

It happened as he fell forward, crushing me beneath him. Across the way, I heard a horse bolting for the trees. Heard Kylie falling to the ground. Calling for Alexia, who had to be close, but was she close enough?

I tried to free myself. But it was hard. This fucker was big. And now I could feel everything, every place where the Bright Queen's needle had pierced my back. The wings dug into me as I turned, pushing, pulling.

It can't end like this.
Please. God. Mother Earth. Anyone.

I heard a voice responding in my ear. Asking for a sacrifice. And I almost said no, because I was so sick of sacrifices.

But I needed to survive this.

The scream tore out of me as I pulled my body in an unnatural dire
ction. It was the only way, the only opening between him and the air. His body. Olorian. Yeah, he was dead, and now my leg was b
roken.

I heard it crunch as I pulled away.

Come on, shock,
I thought as I pushed myself to my feet, then fell again.
Come on, adrenaline. I need you.

Nope. Nothing.

Well, how do you like them apples? Olorian was lying on my sword, and there was no way I was getting it back. Shooting a final glance in his direction, I started to crawl across the courtyard.

One foot in front of the other
, I reminded myself. Then,
No, one hand in front of the other.
Either way, I would make it. I'd throw Kylie a knife, and together, we'd save ourselves. Yes.

Fairy tales are nice when you're nearing the end.

When I caught a flash of red hair, all the way across the battlefield, I almost cried from relief. Then I looked up and saw Naeve watching her too.

No, no, no.

First he took Keegan. Next he'd take Elora. The dark faeries would take Kylie. Then they'd come for me.

Together, we'd fall.

“Not this time,” I told Naeve, though he couldn't hear me. “You can't have them,” I told the earth, which was soaking up the blood so quickly. Lapping it up like sustenance, like we were just nutrients, not bodies and hearts.

Now Kylie was screaming. Alexia was moving through the trees, but she could only move so fast.

Just a little longer. Please.

At the edge of the battlefield, close to where Kylie had fallen, there was movement, and I saw something golden behind the buildings.
Bright faeries,
I thought, but it didn't soothe me. More faeries meant more soldiers. More soldiers meant more bodies. More blood. More broken bones.

But I was wrong, I realized, as deer flooded the courtyard. Within seconds, they'd surrounded the circle of faeries. Surrounded Kylie. A great, spotted buck with skin as gold as it was brown slipped into the center and knelt down. I couldn't see him. I thought he was using his body to cover Kylie. Across the grounds, Elora was curling her fingers in the air, calling on the vines that lived in the forest. They slithered toward the circle, toward the dark faeries.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the screams to start up again.

But here in the faerie realm, where things don't do what you expect, the buck surprised me. Kylie surprised me.

The deer shot up, bounding out of the circle, and on his back was the girl with the warmest eyes I'd ever seen. Dark hair disheveled. Arms wrapped around the deer's neck. Vines snaked around her lower half, lashing her to the animal. I'd never seen anyone look so fierce.

Together, they soared over the crowd and landed on the stage beside Naeve. Beside Keegan, who was the only one in our group who couldn't fight anymore.

Didn't have to.

Couldn't.

I held my breath. As the deer reared up, hooves curling in the air, Naeve dove for the dagger that had stolen Keegan's breath. In an instant, he could fling that blade into Kylie's chest. In an instant, the deer could trample him.

I heard a voice at my back. “Shall we finish what we've started? Together?”

“It's going to have to be,” I said, gesturing to my leg. The Princess of the Dark Faeries wrapped her arm around my waist, and together, we made our way to Kylie.

To Naeve.

To the end.

40

E
l
o
r
A

On the morning of the seventeenth, I held a meeting with mercy and asked her how to live with what had transpired. And unlike death, who took but never gave, she offered to play a game. A game of numbers.

How many?
she asked.
How many will live? How many will die?

I pulled Taylor onto the stage. I could hear bone grinding against bone, but I would not tell him to rest this time. That choice was not mine. So instead, I lifted him onto the final battlefield just as Alexia climbed up the back of the stage, rising behind Naeve.

Four humans,
I counted, my heart thundering wildly.
Three living, one dead. Two faeries. One dagger. Two swords.

Naeve spun around, nearly catching Alexia in the chin. But she was ready for him, and she ducked, causing him to spin. Just when his back was turned to her, she kicked, sending him flying. Unfortunately, he sailed past Keegan's body, landing next to one of the swords.

I knelt down, lifting the other. “Alexia,” I called, holding it out to her. But Alexia had other plans. Crouching down, she scooped Naeve's fallen crown from the stage. Then she dove, scraping the iron spikes across his chest.

“Yes. Get him!” Kylie yelled as Naeve howled, hitting the ground. Reaching over his body, Alexia grabbed his sword and jumped to her feet. She lifted her sword and I lifted mine.

No, no, no,
mercy said.
You are now in the service of death.

I froze, ready to cut off Naeve's head. Alexia looked ready to cut out his heart. But as Taylor inhaled beside me, I wondered if I could murder a person in front of him. I wondered how Kylie would feel when her fury bled into sadness.

I pushed the sword into Taylor's hand. “This is your moment,” I whispered. “Use it wisely.”

“Alexia,” Kylie called from up above. “Toss me the sword.”

Alexia turned, staring at her. Naeve was clambering to his feet. Blood dripped from his chest, but he was healing quickly. Alexia's blow would not be the thing to kill him. As for Kylie's …

“Trust me.” Kylie reached out her hand.

“I do,” Alexia mouthed, and let go of the sword. No, she tossed it, perfectly, into Kylie's hand. All of her strength and grace were visible in that arc. All of her calculations that, in the end, she relinquished.

We both did.

“It's all you, baby,” she said, as Naeve pulled back his hand. The dagger glinted in the mid-morning light.

Taylor leapt in front of me, lifting his sword.

41

T
ayl
o
R

I dove across the stage, bringing down my sword. Kylie brought down hers. Naeve howled and fell to his knees. But he couldn't cover his face with his hands, not anymore. Kylie had taken them.

And I'd taken his wings.

The hands fell quickly, tumbling to the ground like I did, but the wings, well, they wanted to put on a show. Fluttering quietly, they fell to the stage like leaves. Like feathers.

I thought they would never hit the ground.

But
Kylie
did. Slicing the vines that held her in place, she slid from the deer onto the floor, next to Naeve's severed hands. But where was the dagger?

Oh, there, between my ribs. As soon as I saw it, I
felt
it, and my whole body swayed. Elora dropped down beside me. “Taylor? No, no, no.
Please
… ”

My vision started to blur. I blinked, but all I could see was the blood spattering my skin.

“Is it deep? Taylor? Is it—”

“Tell me it isn't,” I managed. “Faeries can't lie.”

Elora smiled softly, her hands wrapping around the dagger's hilt. “It can't be,” she whispered, and pulled. My body jerked forward, then snapped back like a taut rubber band. But I could breathe. I could breathe, and I wasn't bleeding too badly. Elo
ra tore strips from her dress and wrapped them around me.

Now the dagger lay on the ground. Naeve would never grab one again. Never cut off someone's wings. Never hold someone hostage. Never fly.

Poetic justice
, I thought as Alexia stepped up to him. He was moaning and writhing as she lifted her boot. She brought it down on his head. He slumped to the ground, no longer conscious.

“See, I can be helpful too,” she said, flashing a grin.

Kylie looked up, smiling the tiniest bit. Then her face crumpled and she dissolved into sobs. Together, we crowded around the body that used to be a boy. A beloved companion. A twin.

Kylie brushed the chestnut hair from Keegan's eyes. He'd looked a little wild, at the end. We all had, probably.

We all grew wild to survive.

“It should've been me,” she whispered, studying his face for signs of life. Like at any moment, he'd jump up with a mischievous grin and announce he'd been kidding. She waited. We waited.

Still, nothing.

“Let us take him away from this,” Elora said when I thought all of the blood had poured out of him. “Somewhere you can be alone together.”

“And Naeve?” Alexia asked after a minute. Her hand was on Kylie's back. But I didn't think Kylie could feel it, didn't think she'd feel anything for a very long time. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew how pointless it would've been.

“Naeve … ” Elora said softly, scanning our faces.

“It's your decision,” I said. Just as Brad's fate should've been left to us, Naeve's fate was up to Elora. She'd judge her people. We'd judge ours. Until the time came when we could live together, in peace.

If that time ever came.

“I have an idea,” she said, her teal eyes glittering. Those flames were lighting up, giving way to something wicked. “The faerie world gained five humans. Shouldn't the mortal world gain something?”

Alexia looked up, smiling softly. I nodded. Kylie didn't even glance in our direction.

“We'll have to bind him with iron, to weaken his magic. Glamour him to look mortal.” Elora stared off into the battlefield. The clangs and screams were dying down. Scanning the space, I couldn't see any courtiers left standing. But many servants stood tall, cheering and hugging and declaring their victory.

We've won
, I thought, warmth surging in my chest. Then my gaze trailed back to the place where he rested. To Keegan.

We've lost.

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