Page 106 of The Witch Queen

A muscle in Gavin’s jaw twitches. “That’s not Riven. That’s court.”

“Is there a difference when you live at the palace?”

“There could be,” he says. “If things changed.”

And what if we changed them together?That other, small voice whispers.

But that’s not possible. Gavin is the reason I’m fighting for the throne at all. He doesn’t believe I’m right for Riven. I can’t trust him. And I will not repeat Mother’s mistakes. Still…the dance calls for one partner to lift the other up. Gavin’s hands wrap around my waist as he hoists me into the air. Fire races though my blood at the thrill of his touch and the sight of him looking up at me, the two of us suspendedin time. When he sets me down, our lips are inches apart. For a wild moment, I think of what those lips would taste like. What would happen if—

Something warm and wet spatters my face. The taste of copper lands on my tongue. Horrified, I swipe my fingertips across my lips and they come away red. Is that…blood?

Too late, I see the spear sticking out of a nearby courtier’s chest. The wide, petrified look in his eyes as his life drains away.

“Long live the true queen!” someone shouts.

And then the Great Hall devolves into chaos.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ayleth

Though I intended to rejoin the party after leaving Jacquetta, I lingered in the garden, having no patience for the court. No desire to seehermilling around the guests.

Which means I do not hear the screaming until it’s far too late.

“We’re under attack!” someone bellows in the distance. “Followers!”

I sprint down the garden paths and toward the lights of the Great Hall. A battle is already raging in the side courtyard. Steel sings and flesh tears as the guards engage with the Followers, at least double the number we faced in the forest. How had they gotten in? And why didn’t Callen alert me?

“Ayleth!”

Jacquetta’s voice carries above the tumult. She weaves through the fighting to reach me, her mask discarded and her gown already torn. Suspicion taps at the nape of my neck. The last time Followers showed up,shewas among them.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand. “Is this your doing?”

She throws up her hands. “Oh, of course—blame me, as always. How would I have—”

The ground rumbles beneath our feet. Wind howls through the courtyard. Above us, black clouds lumber toward the palace. Butsomething about them seems odd. They look far more ominous than any storm should. Almost…

Sentient,the word rises from the depths of my mind and every nerve in my body fires.

Lightning crackles over the sky. A bright violet bolt spears the ground, leaving a steaming hole in the flagstones. We leap away from it before we tumble into the crater. And that’s when I know: Jacquetta isn’t behind this attack. It’s the same witch from the forest.

Better than you,that voice needles.Stronger.

“Inside!” I shout, pulling Jacquetta with me toward the palace.

Another bolt of violet lightning strikes a nearby statue of a bathing maiden. It should shatter the marble into a thousand pieces. Instead, glowing vein-like fissures web over the maiden’s body. Then, to my utter horror, the statue’s headturns.Her eyes blaze crimson, boring into mine.

“What onearth?” I murmur, staring at the thing as if spelled.

Stone creaks as the statue detaches its feet from the pedestal and steps down. And she’s not alone. Several dragon-like creatures shake themselves free of their moorings and roar. A griffin flares its wings and, impossibly, takes to the air with a shriek.

“Watch out!” Jacquetta yells.

She shoves me aside as the stone maiden’s arm sweeps toward us. It knocks over a few Followers like they’re nothing more than pins.

“Come on!” I shout.