PROLOGUE
The air shimmered in the Queen of the Fae’s palace. Ancient stone walls glittered with power while the beautiful, deadly vines climbing them bloomed with a frightening ferocity. Fae magic overflowed from every corner as the Queen gathered strength from throughout the realm to cast her spell.
All of the distractions meant the time was ripe for the task at hand. No one noticed the thief in their midst.
So close.
From Queen Orfhlaith’s brownie servants to her satyr warriors, everyone bustled about in the hopes of pleasing Her Majesty. A show of power of this magnitude would create legends the fae would praise for eons to come. As such, the worker bees under her rule rushed to complete even the smallest of tasks. No one knew which chore would be the one to keep their precious Queen safe.
The only evidence of any nervousness came from those in charge as they barked hurried commands with a harshness the Queen seldom allowed.
At least to those precious golden ones under her tender care….
Fear of the Queen’s wrath left them too scared to question anyone who may be doing her service at this important time. Word of the upcoming spell spread quickly through the fae realm and beyond. The news gifted the stranger with their one and only chance to complete the risky but oh so rewarding mission.
Get to the end of the hall.
Stick to the walls.
Move fast.
Head down.
Nothing to see here.
The chaos in the palace meant no one dared to stop the stranger who shouldn’t be anywhere near the vault. The plan, as simple as it seemed, worked better than imagined. No one guarded the outermost entry to the vault, a space normally swarming with the Queen’s most venerated warriors. Of course, the most powerful of the Queen’s Guard would be at her side during this dark and dangerous time.
She’d be vulnerable when she cast the spell, and perhaps longer.
One could only hope….
For the first—and perhaps only—time, the vaults wouldn’t be the highest priority of the castle’s inhabitants.
“Hey!”
Keep moving.
Look busy.
The voice continued, giving a sharp reprimand to someone down the hall. The stranger breathed a sigh of relief. One of the Queen’s servants gave more hurried orders to those under their command as the stranger slipped unbothered to the final passage, deep inside the castle.
Large stone doors appeared after a short turn in the hall. The stranger let out a sigh of relief and inspected the golden insignia covering the only entrance to the treasure hiding inside.
Breathe.
Magic gathered, pulled from every area of the palace and beyond. The spell the Queen worked would stretch her power to its limits. The sheer volume of it shook the stranger to their core. The Queen never showed such vulnerability. The circumstances were so extraordinary that the opportunity would never appear again, especially if she actually pulled it off. The stranger couldn’t be certain she would. If not, the success or failure of this mission wouldn’t matter. Their life would be forfeit, yet another victim to the Queen’s glorious reign.
The reward was far greater than the risk. After withdrawing a small pouch, the stranger hung it over the Queen’s golden insignia and waited. The pouch contained a simple, untraceable spell the stranger had cast far beyond the Queen’s reach. Any moment now, the Queen’s working would draw enough power from the vault’s protections for the smaller spell to release the lock.
So close.
Come on.
Breathe.
The slightest click of the magical lock sent a thrill of excitement that lightened the stranger’s steps. Hope restored, the stranger pushed open the door. Their prize shone atop a stone pedestal at the center of the room: Orfhlaith’s Revenge. The Queen’s most prized possession, the staff she’d created upon her ascension to the throne when her power was at its height, had been locked away for almost as long as the stranger could remember.
Almost, but not quite.