Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I did!” the old woman snarled. “And why should I not? You’re trying to supplant me with her! You want your bride—that mealy-mouthed little Seelie bitch—to take the Shadow Throne from me! I am the rightful heir to the throne—I should have had it long before your mother took my place!”
The rage had gone from Liath’s face—now he simply looked shocked.
“Aunt Acosta, what are you saying?” he asked blankly.
“I am saying what we all know to be true—that I am the rightful ruler of the Winter Court!” she announced. “And I shall claim my place on the Shadow Throne now!”
She marched away from the Royal table, moving like a woman half her age. For a moment Liath and I both just sat there—I think we were both stunned. Then Liath rose quickly from his chair.
“I have to stop her,” he muttered. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing!”
I thought it seemed like she knew perfectly well what she was doing. And I still couldn’t believe she’d tried to kill me on purpose! I jumped up and ran after Liath, who was already leaving the dais. And of course, the rest of the Court left their tables in the Banquet Hall and came too.
We all followed Great Aunt Acosta en mass as she left the Banquet Hall and made her way towards the Throne Room, where the Shadow Throne sat silent and foreboding.
I caught up to Liath and reached for his hand. He took mine and gave it a distracted squeeze.
“I have to stop her,” he muttered again, as though speaking to himself. “But surely she wouldn’t be mad enough to actually try the throne?”
I thought she seemed mad enough to do anything. Her wrinkled face was set in tense lines of determination and her eyes still sparkled as she marched towards the dais where the Shadow Throne sat, wreathed in silence and darkness.
Liath reached out with his free hand to catch her by the elbow before she could ascend the dais where the Shadow Throne was waiting for her, its blood-filled carvings writhing on its black surface.
But there seemed to be some kind of barrier between Acosta and her great, great nephew. Even as Liath reached for her, his fingers slipped off, as though her arm was coated in butter or oil.
“Oh no—she’s put a touch-not spell on herself!” I heard him mutter as she ascended the steps that led up to the throne. “Aunt Acosta—don’t! The Throne won’t fucking accept you!”
“How do you know it won’t?” I asked, as he reached for her again and once more his hand slid right off. It was like he couldn’t get hold of her, no matter how he tried.
“Because she’s fucking mad,” he growled and I saw real worry in his eyes. “The Shadow Throne won’t accept a ruler who isn’t sound of both mind and body! It won’t—”
And at that moment, Great Aunt Acosta sat herself down on the blood-red cushion and put her hands on the arms of the throne.
For a moment, nothing happened. The Court was all gathered in the Throne room—Satyrs and nymphs and redcaps and ogres and goblins—Shellya the Spider Seamstress and Stableforth the Centaur and everyone else. All of us were watching—holding our breath as we wondered what would happen.
Then a low rumbling voice that seemed to come from the base of the throne itself spoke a single word:
“DENIED.”
Then the ruby set in the back of the throne—which was as big as my fist—suddenly began to glow.
“Get out! Aunt Acosta—get off the throne! Go—go!” Liath roared.
But it was too late. Even as the realization of what she was doing seemed to dawn in Great Aunt Acosta’s wrinkled face, a beam of blood-red light shot from the glowing ruby and hit the back of her gray head.
There was a sizzling sound and the elderly Fae appeared to be transfixed—she held perfectly still, like a butterfly pinned to a board. And then one of her eyeballs blew outward, splattering like a burst grape on the floor at her feet. At the same time, the red beam of light coming from the ruby to pierce the back of her head, shot out the empty eye socket. Clearly it had burned a hole right through her head and brain.
“Ware!” Liath roared, pushing me out of the way and gesturing at the members of the Court who had come too close. “The Shadow Throne is roused to anger. Go—all of you—run!”
The nobles and servants scattered and Liath took me in his arms and ran to the far edge of the room. There he stopped, though he pushed me behind him. But I peeked around his broad shoulder and saw what was happening.
For a moment the glowing beam continued. It still held Great Aunt Acosta in place, though she was clearly dead. Her other eye was open but unseeing and had the glassy look of an animal which has been stuffed as a trophy. The beam of light coming from her ruined eye seemed to be searching for other targets, it slid here and there on the floor and everywhere it touched, it etched deep grooves in the black marble flagstones.