THE BIRDCAGE PRISONÂ blasted open, the impact of the spelled feather nearly knocking Camilla off her feet.
Silver-white light fell upon her, like celestial snow, before sheâd regained her footing. Her fatherâs moon magic.
Camilla blinked against the blinding light, knowing heâd call forth his shadow magic next. The moon was light and dark, and so was Lennoxâs power. Now a sea of unending black rolled through the chamber.
It was the darkness of killers, of nefarious deeds.
But after a second, it blasted back to brightest moonlight. Lennox alternated between the two contrasts, a rapid strobe from light to dark and back that made it difficult to see anyone approaching until they were right on top of you. He was Chaos, and all now felt it.
Lennoxâs power was meant to disorient his victims, and it worked beautifully.
Though most were fleeing, tripping over themselves and others as they shoved and darted toward the exits at each corner.
Envy had been standing entirely too close to Lennox when heâd let his cloak of night drop. Camilla saw that he was still reeling.
Camilla had recovered faster, nimbly climbing out of the cage and stealing across the throne room. A large male Fae barreled into her, knocking her into a table where a human had been tied.
the woman mouthed.
Camilla cursed, unable to turn away.
She worked the ropes tied at the humanâs wrists, her fingers slipping in the blood. She was trembling, trying to hurry while still glancing back to where Lennox and Envy were slowly circling each other below the throne.
Even without his senses fully intact, Envy was a predator who would not easily be taken down.
Camilla moved to the womanâs ankles and stopped short.
The moonlight and shadows flickered violently, but she saw enough to know that the woman wouldnât be walking out of this room. Her legs had been carved to the bone, her feet missing.
Bile rose up swiftly, but she swallowed it, trying to keep the fear and horror from her face.
She turned back to the woman, ready to lift her and carry her to safety, but the womanâs eyes were glazed, lifeless, fixed on a point hopefully far better than here.
Camilla was frozen with grief for a moment, glancing around at the chaos.
This was her fatherâs court. His nightmare.
Fae crashed into each other as they panicked, trying to flee. No one wanted to be around Lennox when he lost his temper and let his magic out to play.
Mortals whoâd been tied and savaged either fainted or screamed.
Camilla wanted to help each of them back through the Silverthorne Lane portal, back to Waverly Green. Then sheâd smash the damn hexed key.
A flash of emerald caught her attention.
Envyâs wings were spread wide, striking out like weapons. Silver white, black, and emerald. The colors of the two males battling blurred as their powers clashed and clawed.
Something else caught her eye⦠gold ichor. Envy had been injured.
âNo.â She stared as her father changed the flicker of his power, stretching the time between the light and the dark so he could move without being seen.
Envy must not have fully recovered from Vexleyâs attackâ¦
âHis wings.â
Heâd told Camilla he didnât have enough magic to call forth his wings, hold the ward around his circle, and help his court.
âOh, God.â
Camillaâs blood turned to ice. Heâd used his final store of power.
To save her.
No matter that he was furious about her secrets. No matter that she was the flesh and blood of his enemy.
Envy had risked everything heâd fought for to ensure that she was safe.
She could not let him ruin his court for her.
Lennox struck another devastating blow, slashing his Fae blade low, tearing through the demonâs shirt. Even in the strobing light, Camilla saw Envy wince.
Camilla searched for a weapon, something, she could use against the king.
She hadnât come armed to their meeting. And even if she had, Lennox would have taken anything from her when sheâd been imprisoned.
â¦
She wasnât physically strong enough to overpower the king. She couldnât hold him back while Envy ran him through. She couldnât bind his power or use hers to stun him.
There had to beâa sense of calmness dropped over her.
Camilla was dangerous with or without a weapon.
Because she could create one. All she needed to do was get to the paint and the brush. Then sheâd summon a weapon deadly enough to kill an immortal king.
Two large hands grabbed her by the waist and tugged her back.
She thrashed, calling forth the magic that had killed Vexley.
âEasy, now.â Wolfâs mouth pressed against her ear. âYouâre getting entirely too close to my favorite appendage.â
âPut me down.â
He did but didnât unhand her.
âWolf,â she warned.
Wolf dropped his hands but remained close.
She didnât have time to waste. With Wolf following closely on her heels, she picked her way around the chaos and snatched the brush from the floor. Understanding what she was attempting, Wolf grabbed an unbroken jar of paint, thrusting it toward her, then jerked his chin toward the alcove behind the throne. She spared him one long look. Wolf was committing treason. If they failed, Lennox would torture him. Slowly.
he mouthed.
She nodded, then took one final look at the raging fight.
Envy and Lennox were locked in battle, their blades flashing across the dark and light like lightning strikes of gods.
Camilla pushed their fight from her mind, rushed to the alcove, and dropped to her knees, forcing herself to dive deep, deep into that well of power, summoning an image of what she needed most. At first there was only glittering darkness, no shapes or images to be found.
Then, like moonlight rippling across a lake, she saw it.
A bold, curved sword forged its way into her mind. The blade was graceful, violent. And the weapon was made of Fae killing iron.
With the image of the curved sword in her mind, Camilla began painting it across the silver floor, her brush flying back and forth, the strokes heavy and light, bold and thin. She hoped she was working quickly, that she wasnât transported to some other realm.
That she was Faerie gave her hope that only a few moments had passed.
When the sword practically gleamed, she reached into the floor, yanking the weapon free from where it had slumbered in the ether. She hissed as the very real iron burned her palms, searing the shape of the hilt into her flesh like a brand.
Wolf jerked back as she pushed to her feet, gritting her teeth to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear her cries with Lennoxâs power surging as strong as ever.
A series of moonbeam blasts drew her attention to the dais. Envy was on the floor, her father towering over him. She gasped, but then the demon princeâs wings shot out, knocking the king down.
They grappled on the floor. Blood splattered everywhere.
Camilla took one excruciating step at a time, hand clamped around the sword, refusing to drop it. Even as her flesh sizzled and the sickly-sweet scent wafted through the room, she forced herself to where her father battled.
Lennox was drawing his arm back, sword dripping with Envyâs ichor, ready to end the fight.
Camilla didnât think. She acted.
She swung the curved blade as hard and fast as she could, aiming for the back of Lennoxâs knee. She felt the metal bite through his flesh.
With a roar that broke through the oppressive power of Unseelie magic, her father spun on his good leg, eyes flickering between black and white. A vicious sneer lifted his lips.
He advanced on her, sword swinging.
Camilla held her ground, striking again. This time the iron seared across his chest, carving a gaping wound.
Over Lennoxâs shoulder, she saw Envy rise. He towered anew, his wings fully unfurled, and when Lennox lifted his sword to strike his daughter down, the demon prince drove his blade straight through the Unseelie Kingâs chest.
Immediately the flickering, strobing light stopped.
Sound returned, crashing down like a rain of glass.
Lennox went down to one knee, glittering blood smearing across his teeth as he coughed. Holding a hand to his collapsing chest, he spit the blood out near Camillaâs feet.
Instead of snarling at her, her father smiled. It frightened her more than if heâd screamed.
âYou are my child, through and through.â
Camillaâs eyes burned as she dropped her weapon, shaking her head, holding up her charred palms.
Of all the things sheâd imagined him sayingâ¦
Envy dragged his demon blade across Lennoxâs throat, silencing her father forever.
She stared as the Unseelie King slumped to the ground, unmoving.
A terrible war took place inside her. She hadnât dealt the killing blow, but sheâd ensured that he didnât win the fight. Her own father.
Fingers wrapped around her wrist, squeezing gently.
âEnvy, Iâm soââ She turned, then closed her mouth.
The prince hadnât taken her hand.
Wolf gave her a sad smile. âIâm sorry, Princess. He left.â
A fist clutched her heart, squeezing until she felt dizzy. It couldnât be true. Not after what theyâd just done. Her gaze darted around, searching. There were no emerald wings towering above the chaos. No gleaming demon dagger shining like its own bloody star.
Wolf was correct. Envy was gone.
Heâd left her.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away.
Sometimes actions spoke far louder than any words.
The demon prince had not forgiven her, after all. Now that heâd won the game and killed his greatest enemy, heâd gone home. It shouldnât hurt so much that heâd done exactly what heâd always said he would. But hearts werenât always logical, and Camillaâs ached at the loss.
âYour Highness?â Wolf asked, voice quiet. âWhat will you have me do?â
Camilla pulled the broken pieces of herself together, then glanced around the chamber.
No living creatures remained, all fled or crumpled to the ground. The beauty of the Crescent Court was buried in blood and smoke. But against the wall, the portal still gleamed, and she knew what to do.
âWe find all the mortals and escort them safely to Waverly Green.â
âThen?â
âIâll close the portal and destroy the Silverthorne Key,â she said.
Wolf winced.
âWhat?â
âPrincess⦠the key is gone.â