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Oh,gods.

Panic and hysterical laughter fought for preference as Thysandra stepped from the rows of warriors, looking casually deadly as always, and alarmingly gorgeous, too. She was dressed in aggressive red, her scarred, gold-flecked wings tucked in tight, gold rings and bracelets contrasting starkly with the dark umber of her skin. A curved dagger flipped back and forth between her fingers as she sent us an icy smile and started, ‘I thought you would be—’

She faltered there, mid-sentence.

From the abruptness of her silence, she may have stopped breathing, too.

Her knife stopped circling. Her eyes – those dark, calculating eyes – went wide and round at something behind me. Her mouth sagged open a fraction, dark red lips struggling to form words – a sight that would have been comical if not for the tension weighing down the air between us, the burden of a battle threatening to explode.

‘Thysandra?’ I heard a fae male behind her mutter.

I risked a glance over my shoulder despite knowing exactly what I would find. Face pale in the torchlight, Naxi had frozen where she stood, staring at her war-time opponent, would-be murderer, and passionate obsession of decades as if a ghost had just emerged from the ruins of the Cobalt Court.

Chapter 34

‘Oh,’Naxisaid,breakingthe breathless silence with a voice sounding nothing like her own – taut and husky, as if someone was squeezing his hands around her throat. Her chuckle bore no resemblance to her usual melodious laugh, either. ‘Ofcourseit’s you.’

Our presence seemed to have been forgotten. So had the presence of the fae standing guard behind Thysandra, who exchanged nervous glances amongst each other as their commander remained silent and motionless. Naxi wandered two steps forward, seemingly without noticing she would have bumped into me if I hadn't hastily scurried aside; her blue eyes stayed fixed on their mark with the same hungry ferocity. As if the two of them were back on that battlefield of decades ago – as if blinking at the wrong moment may end in death.

‘Yes,’ Thysandra said slowly, icily, chin jutting up. ‘Of course.’

Naxi released another one of those bone-chilling giggles. ‘Heard about Emelin’s brand new powers, I suppose? Realised they were suspiciously similar to the powers the old bitch told you about and that—’

‘Donot,’ Thysandra interrupted, her voice a lash of fire, ‘speak about my High Lady in such a way, you little menace.’

Two steps away from me, Creon let out a huff. It was the only reaction from our side. No one appeared inclined to come between the two lovers – or mortal enemies or whatever they were – and for good reason, presumably. Individually, they were deadly enough. To end up caught between their clashing powers … I suppressed a small shiver.

‘Oh,’ Naxi said softly, and although her tone was still strained, some of the usual razor-sharp breeziness shimmered through again, ‘you mean that High Lady you served so flawlessly during the Last Battle? Or when Emelin escaped?’

Thysandra’s eyes flicked to my face – just one glance, but the fury burning in it felt like a punch to the jaw. How many nights had she lain awake over her betrayal that day, the choice to let me go in return for delivering her message?

Her cold voice betrayed nothing. ‘My loyalties have never shifted.’

‘No,’ Naxi retorted, almost purring now as she cocked her head. ‘Except the bitch still doesn’t seem to realise just how exceptional your loyalty is, does she? Still doesn’t see how much you’re doing for her or how much she’s relying on you. So the moment you realised we’d be here, ofcourseyou grabbed your weapons and your people and ran off for glory without telling anyone else – because you didn’t tell anyone else, did you, darling?’

Beyla breathed a curse next to me. Fifty feet away, visible unease had crept up the rows of fae warriors, harrowed whispers snaking back and forth between them as they threw unnerved looks at Naxi and her beaming face.

Thysandra’s spine stiffened even further, her damaged wings tensing dangerously. ‘I had to act quickly,’ she bit out. ‘That was my only concern.’

‘Of course,’ Naxi said dreamily. ‘Must be just a happy coincidence that it also means no one else will be able to get here first and claim the credit for your hard work. As usual.’

The flash of hurt on Thysandra’s face was all too visible even through the mask of her fury – a strike straight into that festering wound I’d felt myself, the quiet resentment of the Crimson Court’s unsung hero. Perhaps, I realised with a start, this was why she’d been alone, that morning she’d come down to the Labyrinth’s exit and tried to stop me from fleeing the island – not because she had already been planning to let me go, but because it meant no one else could lay claim to her achievements for once.

‘You seem quite sure of yourself and your dubious deductions,’ Thysandra was saying, the tremor of angerjustnoticeable beneath the veneer of her composure. A dangerous tremor. She was finally clawing her way out of her shock, and a counter-attack was coming. ‘As usual.’

Naxi shrugged. ‘Am I wrong?’

‘First of all, you are underestimating me.’ She jutted up her chin a fraction, and it was that gesture that made me recall, with a sudden sinking sensation in my guts, that she had somehowbesteda murderous little nymph with demon powers and no empathy during the Last Battle. ‘If you truly think I’ll hand over the victory for your pretty promises—’

‘Oh, I don’t,’ Naxi said dryly. ‘I was planning to leave the fighting part to our fae mages, to tell you the truth.’

Thysandra’s glare at Creon glinted with unmistakable hatred. ‘I see.’ A mirthless laugh. ‘Here for your voice, I presume, Hytherion?’

He didn’t react, didn’t even blink.

‘I’m getting a little tired of this,’ Tared said flatly. ‘If we keep her ladyship alive, Naxi, do you mind if we just get to work and talk out the details later?’

‘I strongly recommend you don’t,’ Thysandra cut in before Naxi could open her mouth. Her low voice had gone unnervingly sweet. ‘Assuming you’d ever like to get those memories back, Thorgedson.’