Page 3 of The Queen The Fae Forgot
All us now our own Creators,
In this court of thieves and traitors.”
I’d heard those words repeated in my mind, in the hellish landscape created by the tea that had last drawn Icarus to me through the bonds of the magic now fully binding me, too. He’d been a nightmare then, the mere image of his blackened, twisted body as painful as any poison running through my own veins.
The sound of the oracle’s words issuing from Icarus’ lips felt like a poison of their own, too. They wound around me, seeped inside me, steeped me in their own special venom. They were words had had long since begun to haunt me, even before I knew what they were—and yet, still, I knew not what they meant. Not truly.
Though, from the look that flickered between the dark fae and the others now gathered before me, I almost wondered if that, too, was about to change.
It was Eckhardt who let out a low growl. “A prophecy,” he hissed. His eyes flashed an even brighter blue, the deep tone of his voice making the hair at the back of my neck stand up straighter with each rasping word. I didn’t understand the anger in his voice, but what I did understand was the fear that shook the next to break the silence.
The queen shrunk back slightly, her own gaze darkening as her eyes glazed over. “Not a new one,” she said, her tone softening until it was almost inaudible. Almost.
It wasn’t soft enough to keep Icarus from hearing, and certainly not enough to keep him from acting.
“No,” he agreed, stepping forward slightly again. “One long forgotten. But not by all …”
Not for the first time, every eye in the room turned to me. This time, however, the weight of it had shifted.
“Unless my memory fails me, Aurra was the first one here to be reminded of the prophecy,” Icarus continued. “Her visit to the Oracle, it seems, served to dredge up old wounds that were too long forgotten.”
The first one?
Had Icarus been back, then? What price had to be paid the second time?
There was always a price.
My gaze flickered over to Ada—or her imposter—as I remembered my own, a price I was still paying.
Then again, he could be lying. Perhaps I’d told Icarus more than I remembered when I called him to my side in my tea-addled state.
Whatever the truth of it, now was not the time for more lies. Not from me. Not if I wanted answers.
I glanced at Eckhardt before I spoke, checking to be sure that the tip of his blade wouldn’t next be pointed towardsmeif I did. I’d heard his warning when he first suspected my power and seen the truth of it in his eyes. He was a fae that knew too closely the glamour I possessed in all its unholy glory.
After a long moment, my uncle nodded, however slowly, his careful gaze never leaving mine.
“Tell us, Aurra,” he said, the tone of his voice as dangerous as it was the moment he first threatened my life for the use of my voice. “Or else this insufferable monster will do it for you, but not without weaving into it his own web of lies.”
I only allowed my gaze to flicker away from the sword now pointed at me for a second, and only long enough to wonder if I’d imagined the frustrated look I thought I saw flicker across Icarus’ face. It was so brief and so subtle that I couldn’t be sure I’d seen it at all, or if I’d simply imagined it—that I hadwantedto see some sign of it so badly that I’d dreamed it up completely. Maybe, because if he did show some sign that my uncle’s accusations had wounded him, then maybe it would make that same monstrous accusation a little less true.
Even if one glance at my sister, at Ada, only confirmed it was. Icarus was a monster. That was not a question.
But I wasn’t.
Not yet.
“What Icarus claims, it’s true,” I said, finally. My voice came out broken when it issued from my lips. Each word made my heart race faster as my hands grew clammy and slick with sweat. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I continued. There was no conscious reason for the nerves that now tangled within me, but tangle they did. “I didn’t know it was a prophecy when the Oracle told it to me, but even then … even when we did …”
I glanced towards Shiel, my words failing me as I searched his face for some sort of confirmation that I was doing the right thing. My uncle was right, I knew that I couldn’t just let Icarus have his way with this, but I didn’t want to reveal something I shouldn’t. The words alone, repeated as if from my own nightmares by the dark fae, were enough to elicit a reaction from both my uncle and the queen. They’d heard them before, I was willing to guess.
But what I wasn’t so willing to guess was whether or not I should share the rest of what the Oracle told me, not when I saw the slight shake of Shiel’s head, so subtle no one else would have noticed it. No one else knew to look for it.
The prophecy, after all, was not the most important information the seer had granted me. Not right now, not standing before the fae that had not only so willingly given me up, but had done it with all the spite she could muster.
I felt my voice trail off, fully ready to leave what little I’d already said as my answer until I saw the way Icarus quickened to add to it, the flash in his eyes telling me I’d set him up for something.
So, instead, I took another risk.
