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I was sure she thought I would be elated at the chance of a Catalyst. That the possibility of having magic would be exactly what I wished for. Feeling those icy fingers rake their way down my spine as if she could pull it out of me and keep me a Dri, however, confirmed otherwise.
The Boy had been right. I am glad I hadn’t shown her my magic, not without witnesses anyway. But then, us being alone with her, with a queen who had ways of detecting magic made everything that much more dangerous.
“Give me your hand, girl,” she snarled again, those fingers digging into my spine.
I wanted to fight her, to refuse to obey, but my hand was in her palm before I could stop it. Her smile curled over her face as she leaned in, those long cold fingers wrapping around my hand and holding me in place. Thankfully, my wrist that was wrapped in the intricate Fae hair braid was tucked into my lap.
“I’m glad to see you are catching on,” she hissed inches away from my ear and I shivered, that cold of hers everywhere now. “Now, let’s see what’s waiting for me, shall we?”
Waiting for her? Hadn’t she said we were looking for another Catalyst?
Her lips stretched as she placed one long finger against the ball of my palm, her other hand still holding me in place as a sharp needle-like protrusion of ice grew from her fingertip. Her ice shimmered as though it was metal, the sharp point pinching against my skin in the soft underside of my wrist, as though it was trying to find a way inside.
“What are you doing?” I nearly screamed as I writhed, trying to move away from that pressure, away from that twisted grin that didn’t seem to leave her face.
She didn’t answer, just held tighter as that painful pinch sliced into me, the long pincer of cold iron burrowing into my skin. Into my wrist. Pain lanced through me, the stabbing sensation moving up my arm as I screamed. I tried to escape her grip, to escape the pain that was now slicing to my elbow.
“I’m seeing what you are made of, girl,” she sneered, madness in her eyes as she watched the ice burrow into me, watched my skin glitter as everything burned and froze.
I wasn’t sure if I was burning alive or freezing from the inside out, either way the pain that was lashing through me was deeper than anything I had experienced before.
“Stop!” The word ripped through my screams, sobs and tears rattling my chest as a flash of black whirled to my side, the shadowed shape of the Boy moving much faster than should have been possible. He snarled like the caged animal we both were, his gloved hand wrapping around her wrist as though he would pull her away.
I wanted to yell at him to stop her, to remove whatever it was that was protruding from her finger and was slicing its way up to my past elbow. It burrowed like an icy worm that sucked all the warmth from the world. There wasn’t any heat left in me, all of that fire had gone.
He didn’t pull her away, however, he just held on, staring at the queen who now fixed the twisted glee on him.
“What is it, Boy? Do you have something to say?” Her smile was nothing more than a slash of victory, each of those words hitting with about as much pain as whatever she was doing to my arm.
She knew. She knew he had been talking to me. She probably knew about my magic. She knew everything.
Now she was punishing me for all of it. Batian had hurt the Boy to punish me, and now Mother was punishing him through me.
I didn’t dare look at the Boy as I locked my screams inside.
“Go on, Boy. Say it,” she taunted, still staring at him as whatever was boring its way into me made its way further and further up my arm. “It’s clearly worth it, isn’t it? To say what’s on your mind.”
Pain rippled through my bones as she taunted him, the Boy’s hand vanishing from my back as he stepped back, his shroud not even turning to me as he returned to his post by the door, her eyes smiling in delight as I tried to swallow my screams.
“See,” she crooned. “A good Queen knows how to control. Because she knows how to survive. Survival is key, girl. But only the strong survive. Aeinya, she will be strong. But you… you will never find your strength.”
Her words echoed what the Boy had said the night before, his low voice echoing in my mind even as it smothered and washed away by the screams that I locked away.
‘It’s time we find your strength.’
She was wrong. She always would be. I was strong.
I hissed between the clench in my teeth, trying to hold still and not scream as that pain thankfully began receding, whatever she had pushed into me melting away.
Her hand gripped tighter as the sharp knife of her ice vanished completely. The chill from the touch didn’t leave, however. If anything it grew until it was everywhere, until there was not a scrap of warmth pressing against my skin.
“You never will be strong, girl. You never will be more than a Dri. I will see to that.”
Pain continued to lash up my arm as though I had been sliced from the crook of my elbow to my palm, the damp flood that was pooling there sticky and wet. And very red.
Bright red blood flooded my palm as though she had drilled a well, the gushing liquid so dark it was almost black. It flowed over my hand onto the surface of the table, that line of ice she had drawn to my elbow spreading as the skin ripped apart as though someone had pulled a string to split it, covering everything with that deep scarlet color.
I couldn’t restrain it any more, the forbidden scream tore from my throat, the sound more panic than pain as I stood. My blood dripped onto the carpet and over the front of my cloak in deep scarlet rivers, coating everything. My mother didn’t even move. She sat still, staring at the drops of my blood against the wood, smearing them into long lines with those icy fingers. Icy fingers that were everywhere, digging into me.
