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“Enough of this, Gehenna,” Alaric interrupted, stepping into her line of sight. “I am sure the Commander takes whatever pleasure he desires when needed. That is not why I am here.”

The Sorceress studied Mordecai a moment longer before she looked at Alaric. “I am unsure why youarehere. I will do nothing else for you until you free me.”

“Why do you think I am here?” he retorted, obvious annoyance in his tone. “I should think you would be more gracious in this moment.”

The Sorceress blinked at him, then she broke into a fit of shrill laughter. “You do not know,” she finally managed to say. She began moving in front of the bars, her fingers dragging along them, clanging lightly with each pass she made. “The Daughter of Saylah has made a fool of you yet again.”

Alaric went entirely still. It was the same preternatural stillness Fae possessed right before they lost control. “What do you mean?”

Talwyn was so focused on the scene playing out in front of her, she didn’t realize she was edging towards the stairs. She might not have Fae senses anymore, but her self-preservation instincts were still intact.

“Only a Fae Queen can free me,” the Sorceress said. She was in the center of her cell now. She lifted her arms and began turning in a slow circle as she sang, “There is no Fae Queen here, Alaric.”

“Talwyn Semiria is the daughter of Henna and niece of Eliné,” Alaric snapped, pointing his finger at Talwyn. “She is the Fae Queen of the Eastern Courts.”

The Sorceress stopped her spinning and leapt for the bars, her face pressed to them. “Wasthe Fae Queen of the Eastern Courts. She has no power. Not anymore.”

“She was in nightstone shackles,” Alaric argued. “Then shirastone. Her power was drained and has not had a chance to replenish. That does not matter.”

“There is no earth or wind in her veins. Her wolf slumbers, never to rise again,” the Sorceress continued, dropping and beginning to draw in the dirt at her feet. “Even if she did, your Wraith of Deceit challenged her and won. She is not Fae. There is no longer a Fae Queen. Not in this world.”

The silence at her words was deafening.

Slowly, Alaric turned to face them. Fury emanated off every part of him. Every movement was a careful stilted motion, his entire body tense with scarcely restrained rage. “You knew,” he hissed in a deadly whisper to Briar. “Your lover and unborn will pay the price for this deception.”

“No,” Briar said, lurching forward a step. “I did not know. I did not know what fate was handed to her. When I came to you, it was still being decided.”

He was begging, pleading. For Ashtine. For the babes.

“And you,” Alaric snarled, turning to her and ignoring Briar’s pleas. “You did not think to mention this?”

Talwyn lifted her chin, looking down her nose at him. “We are no longer allies, and as such, I owe you nothing.”

“That conniving little wench,” he spat. “When I get her back—”

“You won’t,” Talwyn interrupted. “You won’t get her back. She warned you in the Southern Islands. Nuri warned you mere hours ago. She is so many steps ahead of you, you won’t realize you have lost until you are staring at your death.”

“How poetic,” he sneered. “Youstanding here. Defendingherto me. When all you sought for decades was revenge. You forgetIam the one who taught her everything she knows.”

“Revenge against those responsible for the death of my family. Revenge against those who orphaned me. Revenge against those who took advantage of me when I was vulnerable,” Talwyn replied. “She will accomplish all of that when she comes for you.”

“Too bad you will not be on this side of the Veil to witness it,” Alaric replied coolly, so much violence glimmering in his dark eyes. “Mordecai, escort her and the Water Prince out. I will be along after I am through here. You know what to do.”

The seraph jerked his chin at Briar who rushed to her side, and they were shoved roughly towards the steps. Briar was taking them two at a time. Talwyn knew why. She had seen Alaric lose his temper. Knew he could call them back at any moment. But she was still adjusting to her muted senses. She couldn’t move as quickly or as gracefully, and her feet didn’t feel like her own as she slipped and stumbled up the stairs.

“Faster,” Mordecai hissed at them, which was odd in and of itself.

When she tripped again, the crack of her knees when they slammed into the steps echoed around them. Briar reached down and gripped her arm, hauling her back to her feet. He kept a hold of her, tugging her along. “What the fuck has happened?” he asked.

“Not now,” she whispered. She was breathing hard, a combination of exertion and nerves, while Briar was barely winded.

Nothing else was said as they raced through the prison. Alaric might not be able to access his magic down here, but he could still hurt them. Kill them. Worse.

They reached the entrance where magic would normally return to her, and Briar held out his hand to the seraph who quickly swiped a dagger across his palm. He let his blood drip onto a Mark carved into the stone, and a moment later they were all in a courtyard outside the Black Halls. The entrance and exit to the Underwater Prison.

“Now what will you do, Majesty?”

Talwyn whirled, trying to catch her breath. Nuri stood near Mordecai, toying with a dagger. “Where the fuck did you come from?”