Chapter 47

My Craft sizzled through my body, calling out to Ronan's rampant flames. From beneath the table where I had taken cover, I saw fae attacking Ronan.

They resembled rabid monsters more than the fae that had surrounded me only a short while ago, dancing and frolicking merrily.  They were unrecognizable now.

Snarls and hisses and screams battered against my ears, and a good part of me wanted to stay there, curled up into a little ball, holding myself safe and sound behind the barrier of the table. To do exactly as Ronan wanted. I lowered my hands from my face, and peeked out from a corner of the table cloth, a river of sweet-smelling wine dripping down off it to the floor.

Ronan had two large flames at either side of him, his movements reminding me of a fire god as he struck down faerie after faerie. His face was twisted into a wide maniacal smile, his eyes lit with fervor. He was enjoying this. Blood and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air and I had to look away before I was sick.

I had always known what he was, but seeing it again—now that I had spent so much time with him, made me recoil. I couldn't help the tears that sprung to my eyes. But I wiped them away.

This is good, I tried to tell myself. Seeing Ronan for the monster he is will make what I must do that much easier.

I peeked out from the tablecloth again, this time not looking at Ronan. I surveyed the disorienting chaos, looking for the bottom of the Queen's dais. When I found it I saw the Queen still had not moved from where she had been before, standing there like a ghostly specter.

With all the guests focused on Ronan, there was a clear path between me and the dais. I searched its base, looking for something that could be the portal. My blood buzzed as adrenaline pumped through me, making my hands shake.

Then I saw it. It was small, easy to miss. A small flaw in the sleek ebony wood that resembled a tiny door.

As soon as I saw it, it disappeared. The twinkling lights in the room flickered out one by one. The shadows grew thicker, swimming through the air and unfurling in blackened wisps of smoke. In moments, the entire room had been swallowed up by a black hole.

"Who dares intrude upon my husband's mourning party," boomed a heavy, suffocating voice. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw the Queen walking off the dais, the thick shadows leeching themselves from her body and swarming through the room in an echo of the Queen's fury. Her pale eyes, still empty, focused on Ronan.

"You," she snarled. "You are the one who stole him from me. Your very birth is a smear on our Courts." The Queen's voice was filled with fury, and I wondered how much Ankou was controlling her. Her eyes flickered with life, but the hatred didn't disappear as she bore down on Ronan.

I turned to him one last time. Watching his face as he took in his powerful opponent. He grinned, his blades flaring with a scorching burst of flame. My Craft thrashed inside me, yearning to go to his, and fill the room with ravenous flames like before when fighting the sluagh. The thought of doing so terrified me, because I could already feel the pleasant rush that would sweep through my body if I gave in.

I inhaled deeply, turning from the warring fae. This was not my battle, not my fight. I had no business caring about who was involved.

And now with the Queen focused on Ronan, there was no one next to the dais. Now was my chance.

I jolted out from my hiding spot, sticking to the shadows. I ignored the flickering lick of Ronan's flames reaching to me from across the ballroom. I pushed the urge down hard, wrapping up my Craft inside me, even as I felt it claw at me, begging to come out. It was dark, the only light coming from the fire and Queen Kiera's glowing eyes.

I heard cries and sobs and painful screams as bodies littered the floor, half burned and dismembered. Though there were still hordes of fae circling Ronan, they relented now that the Queen stood before him.

I stayed low behind them, plucking my way through the carnage until I reached dais. I ran my fingers over it in the darkness, looking for the door I had seen. I tried not to let the growing worry that it won't work stop me. Once I found it, instinct would do the rest. It had to be easier than I thought, or I wouldn't have unknowingly opened the portal and come to Faerie in the first place.

Just as my fingers brushed against a ridge in the wood, I felt a prickle at my neck. I spun around squinting in the darkness, to see three faeries crawling towards me.

One was missing an arm, his flesh sizzling from the wound, blood soaking half of his body, but he continued to move like the living dead. Another was standing tall and willowy, his dress clothes torn and frayed. Then there was a female, her mask lowered to reveal a dark face, her skin glinting just like Oisin's did, revealing to me her set of pointed teeth as she gave me a gruesome smile.

I froze where I was. There were three of them, but my hold on the Craft was volatile at best, especially when all it wanted to do was go to Ronan. I watched as they approached, one of them crouching down, and walking with slithery snake-like steps.

"Not so fast, human girl," said the female, moving smoothly through the shadows. It attached to her dark skin and propelled her through the room smoothly. Though she did not have the same power as the Queen, I backed away, bumping into the raised platform behind me,. I looked from side to side, searching for an escape.

I saw Ronan was heavily engaged with Queen Kiera, who had fashioned her shadows into leaping breasts that attacked and crawled across the floor to him in a vicious swarm. A chill ran up my spine, remembering the sluagh. Once they met Ronan's fire though, they all bubbled and burned away to ash, their shrieking cries filling the room. But for every one that he destroyed, five more took its place.

I looked back at the fae approaching me, clenching my jaw. I felt my Craft, eager to be released, but I couldn't risk losing control.

If my Craft overtook me again, I wouldn't be able to open the portal, then whoever won, be it Ronan or Hekate, would keep me and use me and lead me down a path for their own gain.

The female stopped in front of me, only a breath away. This close, I could see the emptiness in her eyes. I knew somewhere behind her sat Ankou, using all these faeries as his own manipulated army. I lifted my lips up in a sneer. Puppets, all of them, they were puppets.

Wasn't that what I had been too? Even before all of this, my mom had been trying to shape me and mold me into something that didn't fit. Here in Faerie Ronan had tried to force me again into this ideal he had of me as his wife. Then Hekate and Ankou, whatever they wanted from me, be it as a pawn or for my Craft. They all were using me. Stringing me along. Though my mother's intentions had always been well enough, I could not let myself be the victim of everone else's plans anymore.

I had to take charge.

I had the abilities. I had power flowing through my veins, I just had to use it.

"Are you afraid?" the faerie asked, tilting her head to the side. At my feet there was the sensation of hundreds of little bodies moving up from the ground, miniature versions of Kiera's beasts. They crawled up under the dress I wore, and along my legs like little insects, pricking pain traveling across my skin where they bit and tore into me.

Energy rumbled in my chest. It must have sensed my decision, because it spun in a powerful torrent, begging to be set free,

"No," I said. My body was still, my hands no longer shaking. There was difference this time compared to all the times before. I looked inside myself, saw the monster, saw this glaring piece of evidence that I wasn't human--that Ronan and Hekate had been right.

And I accepted it. I took it in my hands and let it all go.

The other two fae had moved up beside the faerie with shadow Craft, their eyes set on me with that same blank, empty-eyed gaze. I let go of my Craft from both of my hands and they shot across the floor, two strong currents ripping from my palms.

In front of me the faerie girl faltered, her eyes flickering as if the being inside her body was fighting against Ankou's control. I reached out and gripped her by the neck. Wind poured in to the room, streaming down from the balconies overhead, booms and cracks sounding from where it entered through the open windows. Dampness clung to it as thunder cracked outside, its blinding flash flickering against the walls.

I stared into the faeries eyes, she clawed at my hand with thin dark fingers, scraping against my flesh. But I didn't hear it. All I heard was the roar of my wind, my power. Across the room I saw Ronan's fire flare, but I paid it no mind.

"Free yourself," I said softly. "Don't let him determine your fate."

The faerie grew more violent, letting out a choked snarl and she kicked in my grip. But I held tight, lifting her off the ground, my muscles holding a strength I had never even realized was there.

The shadows beside me flickered and warped, even as the wind around me tore them to shreds. I narrowed my eyes on her. "Get him out of your head."

Still, the girl struggled, and her gaze remained blank.

I pressed my lips together, surprised to find wetness on my cheeks. Tears, I realized.

I let the girl go, and she collapsed to the ground, clawing at her throat as she gasped in air. I turned from her back to the portal. The swirling gusts around me were starting to weaken, and I saw that I had caught many of the other faeries' attention.

Ronan was still fighting, and as I watched, he reached Kiera, a trail of burnt ashes in his wake, flames crackling around him as if he were walking up from the depths of hell. The Queen knelt on the ground, weakened from her display of power. She, like me, had not used a conduit.

Ronan didn't hesitate, lifting his sword and in one triumphant blow, cleaved her head from her body. Her horns clanged against the ground with a sickening thud.

I turned away, stomach turning. Now was my chance while the wind still blocked me from everyone else. I looked down, finding the portal easy this time, and knelt, placing my fingers on it. I could feel the hum of energy beneath my hand. I let out a choked sob.

Finally. I almost wanted to laugh. Finally, I was going home.

But before I could try to figure out how I was going to do that, a pained cry ripped through the air.

"Behind you," Oisin cried. He had pulled himself up from his prone state. He was half limping, half running towards me, his black eyes wide with fear.

And I spun around just in time to see the shadow fae I had left on the ground coming at me with a dark shadowy spike.