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I couldn’t help but marvel at how many bargains my mother had managed to strike with Fae royals of all sorts. Was it from experience then, that she’d always forbid me from bargains?

“And did Gancanagh help you find the heir?” I asked, dully. I barely cared about the answer anymore, my mind was too tired, spinning with all the new information.

“He did, in a manner of speaking,” she said bitterly. “I couldn’t simply ask him. Gancanagh is—was—the worst of his kind. He would never answer a straight question, and would do everything in his power to keep me indebted to him. Unfortunately for him, he laid his own trap quite nicely. His queens were never allowed to be seen or heard, making it all too easy to move in and out of the court as long as I was veiled.”

I wondered fleetingly what had happened to the original queen, then decided I didn’t want to know. Whether my mother hadkilled her, or they’d colluded together, I didn’t desire to know anything more about Mother’s double-life.

“Did you know I’d be at court?” I asked.

“No.” Her tone had taken on a hint of discomfort. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you there at dinner. I’d disguised myself as the queen that night, only so I could find a moment to speak with the Dullahan. I had no idea I’d find my own daughter whoring herself out to Fae nobles.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn't even care about the putrid smell of the dungeon anymore. It hardly affected me as I sucked in deep breaths, forcing myself to remain calm and detached. No matter what she said about me it didn’t matter. The truth was the most–the only–important thing.

“And did you find him?” I asked, dully. “The heir, I mean. Did Gancanagh help you?”

“I did,” she said grimly. “In a manner of speaking. But that hardly matters to me anymore.”

“Why is that?” I asked, feeling detached. Like one part of me was asking questions, while the rest was floating outside my body watching the whole thing.

“Because it wasn’t worth it,” she hissed. “Didn’t I always tell you not to bargain with fairies? There is no winning. I made that deal to save your mortal life, but once I’d agreed that was lost anyway. I should have known there was no hope for your humanity,” Mother sneered. “Your sister always did a better job of behaving normally than you did. Where is she, anyway? Is she with you, or did she escape this unnatural hell?”

I jerked, her question dragging me back from the edge of madness. I blinked at my mother, a sickly feeling climbing up my throat. “Do you not know?”

“Know what?” she demanded.

I closed my eyes, and swallowed the thick lump in my throat. “Rosey is dead. She died over a year ago.”

For a moment my mother stared at me, and I saw the raw, unendurable pain in her eyes. In a way, I was glad of it. Somewhere deep down, my mother cared. Part of her was still the person I remembered, even if she was almost unrecognizable to me right now. But then she blinked, and her eyes went flat and angry once more. “Good,” she snapped. “At least she never had to see what you’ve become.”

My mother's words hung in the air, and my mind struggled to comprehend their meaning. My ears were buzzing with a high-pitched sound, and my heart raced so loudly I could feel it pulsing in my head. I gazed at my mother, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear my vision and understand what was happening.

My hands were burning.

Anger and heat coursed through my body in equal measure, the licking flames scorching me from the inside out. For a long moment, I lost track of where I was—who I was. I became nothing but flame, burning, raging, unapologetic and uncontrollable. I was born of death and flames, and maybe that was all I was ever meant for.

Distantly, I heard a scream.

I blinked and black dots filled the edges of my vision. I didn’t remember getting to my feet, but I found myself standing beforethe cell. A haze of smoke filled the room, and struggled to focus on my mother in front of me.

She had managed to get to her feet as well, and now stood eye level with me, only the bars of her cell separating us. Her fingers clenched white around the bars, and her face was twisted with equal terror and contempt.

For the briefest moment, a stray thought flickered at the back of my mind. An evil thought.

I could leave her here.

I could burn this entire castle down, and her with it.

I was the Source; the great equalizer; and like death, I would take no prisoners.

5

AMBROSE

THE OBSIDIAN PALACE, EVERLAST CITY

“You must be fucking joking,” Scion snapped. “You’re expecting us to look through every book? There must be five thousand volumes in here.”

“At least ten thousand, actually,” I said blandly. “And yes. We’ll have to go through all of them.”

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