Chapter 40

Chapter 40

T he day after she was inducted into the Queen's Blades, Fey had run away.

It made her cringe to think back on it now, but back then it had felt like her last resort, the only option available to her. Her whole life, Fey had been alone. From the moment her father had turned his contempt on her, from the moment she realized her mother would never do anything to protect her, she had only had herself.

But when the Queen had placed that brand on her arm, all of that had changed. Suddenly, even in her own head, she wasn't alone. When the initial flash of agony had faded, and the Queen had taken the brand away, she had felt her sisters.

Lilith's dark approval and pride at how well Fey had handled her induction.

Joy's swell of excitement and happiness.

And Alice.

Alice's unconditional love, from the very start. Something Fey had never had before, not even from her own mother. But there it was, real and filling her, from a woman she'd just met a few days ago.

It had been too much.

There is a power in solitude. If you are alone, then no one can hurt you. If you build a wall around yourself, you can make it impossible for anyone to hurt you unless you let them. Impossible for them to love you.

But somehow, these three Witches did. Immediately, unquestioningly, they had loved her. Accepted her.

So Fey had run away. Run from that love and that promise of family. The only family she'd ever known had hurt her, and she had no reason to believe this new one would be any different.

She'd run to the only place she'd ever felt safe, the first place she'd felt like she belonged—her bedroom, in the Solare training camps.

And now, years later, Fey found herself coming full circle.

Even back then her room had been a dump, but now? In the years since she'd been inducted into the Queen's Blades, enrollment in the Queen's army had dropped to a historic low. Fewer and fewer Witches were convinced that so many specially trained forces were necessary, and even fewer were in the desperate straits that Fey had been in when she had joined. Solare had been erected to house thousands of Witches, but with only a few hundred recruits to fill the rooms, only one wing of Solare was currently in use. Fey's bedroom sat in a wing long since abandoned, and the dust and mildew along the walls and floor was proof of that.

She would have been the last Witch to occupy this room, Fey realized, trailing her fingers through the dust on the windowsill.

Every bedchamber in Solare was a tiny thing, barely bigger than a closet, with a single bed, a window that barely opened, and a small uncomfortable desk. Still, to Fey it had been home—her first real home—and even now, with everything going on, it was a comfort to be here.

The day she'd run away from the Blades, Alice had found her. Fey never found out how. Never found out how Alice had even known where to look.

She hadn't tried to convince Fey to come back, hadn't scolded or berated her for leaving. Alice had simply sat in the wobbly wooden desk chair next to Fey's bed and waited. She said nothing, demanded nothing, didn't even look at Fey. She just sat there with her, staring out the window and waiting.

And, eventually, Fey had started to talk. All the fear, all the pain, all the sudden emotions she'd had felt when that Blade's mark had opened that connection between her and her new sisters came pouring out of her. Alice hadn't judged her for running away, hadn't judged her for the way she felt. She only wanted to understand, and when she did, she finally talked.

Alice told Fey stories. Stories about her and Lilith and Joy and their times together. Stupid, inconsequential stories, but they gave Fey an insight into her new sisters. Gave her something to love in each of them. Helped her understand why they were so willing to love her, even if they barely knew her. Helped her realize how much she wanted to love them back.

Fey had come back here to her old room in Solare a few more times during her first year as a Queen's Blade, and each time she knew Alice would come and find her and help her heal through whatever she was going through.

But now Alice was gone.

Now Willow was gone, too.

Fey sat down heavily on her bed, ignoring the cloud of dust that rose up around her, and put her head in her hands. She needed to get some sleep. There were only a few hours now until dawn, and she'd need rest for whatever came next.

But first, she needed a plan.

She briefly considered sneaking back into their quarters to find her sisters, but she immediately scrapped that idea. Her mask had been lost, most likely during her triste with Alastair in the hallway, and there was no way she could get by the Guards without it, especially tonight. Dameon would have to sound the alarm at some point, would have to tell the Queen and the Blades that Willow had been killed. The palace would be teeming with activity, and there was no way she could get to the second most heavily guarded wing of the Palace tonight.

She could rest, then head to The Last Drop once the sun set tomorrow. Now that she was in Solare there would be no way to sneak out during daylight, when the training yards below would be full of soldiers. Alastair could find her a place to lay low while activity in the palace died down, and together maybe they could find a way to get a message to her sisters.

Or… she could go back to the palace right now, find Dameon and slit his fucking throat. Just like he'd done to Willow. She could strap him to a chair and make him swallow plastic explosives, and Joy or Lilith could use a little fire to ignite it…

Fey snarled in anger and frustration, flinging herself down onto the pillow, releasing another cloud of dust around her. That's what she wanted to do, what the anger and rage inside her demanded she do. She wanted to peel pieces off him until he told her everything she wanted to know, until he admitted to all of it.

Fey rolled on her side, pausing when something crinkled under her. There was something under her pillowcase.

Propping herself up on her elbow, Fey reached underneath her pillow and pulled out a piece of paper, frowning at it. It was a handwritten note. A single line, hastily written. An address.

1601 Eternity Rd.

Fey stared at it.

The address meant nothing to her, though she recognized it was somewhere on the manufacturing side of town, near the shipping yards.

But the address wasn't what made her stare. The address wasn't what made her heart sink, made her catch her breath.

It was written in Alice's handwriting.