Page 96

“Okay, well, you’ve got me there,” she said with a sad smile.

“Why?” Fey repeated.

“Because I need you to listen to me. I need you to believe me, and I can’t let you leave until you do, Fey,” Alice told her, her eyes dark and serious. “I love you, babe. You know I do. But this is bigger than you. Bigger than me. And if you leave here and tell the Crown anything about what you’ve seen, then all of this—” She motioned to her own arm, to the scar running through her Blade’s mark. “All of my sacrifices, everything I’ve been working to achieve will have been for nothing, and we might never get another chance to save this city.’

“But if I listen?”

“Then you can go,” Alice assured her. “If you still want to, after.”

Fey considered this, taking another long drink of water.

“Okay,” she said, finally. Her voice was starting to sound like her own again, and the throbbing in her head was almost gone. “If I can’t leave until I listen to you, then talk.”

“Eat something,” Alice insisted, motioning toward the plates of food.

When Fey didn’t move, Alice sighed in frustration. ‘It’s not drugged, Fey. Give me a little credit.”

Fey still made no effort to move, so Alice grabbed the plate. Taking a piece of flat bread, she scooped up the flavored rice and stuffed it into her mouth, smiling.

“See?” She held the plate out to Fey. “Not drugged. And pretty good, actually.”

Fey took the plate from her cautiously, slowly pinching rice into a piece of flat bread, and chewing it. Her stomach groaned in approval. It was pretty good, even if it was room temperature.

“Talk,” Fey demanded, swallowing her mouthful of food and scooping up more.

But Alice didn’t say a word. Instead, giving Fey a measured look, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the bottle of golden liquid.

“What is it, Alice?” Fey asked, looking at the vial in her hand. “If it’s not Allium, is it some sort of elixir? A weapon?”

Alice laughed, sadly. “A weapon? Yeah, I suppose it is a weapon, of sorts.”

“What is it?” Fey demanded.

“It’s the truth,” Alice responded with a shrug.

“No,” Fey threw her plate aside, not caring about the mess it left as food scattered on the floor. “No, no more fucking riddles, Alice. You claim that shit is truth? Then tell me. Give me the truth, sister. No more running, no more bullshit, no more cryptic clues and addresses hidden in my fucking room. Tell me what’s going on, so I can leave.”

Alice sighed. “Okay,” she said, and she tossed the vial to Fey.

Fey caught it reflexively, still staring at Alice.

“You want to know the truth, Fey? Then drink it,” Alice told her.

“No,” Fey snarled. “You drink it.”

“I have,” Alice said. “It didn’t do anything for me. But you, Fey? I think the Goddess had her reasons for sending you here.”

“You sent me here.” Fey reminded her.

Alice almost smiled. “I left you that note months ago, Fey, the same night I blew up my apartment. But you found it now, just as all of this is coming to a head, just a few days before this will all be over, one way or another. Just when we need someone like you. I think you’re the final key to all of this. The final nail in the Queen’s coffin.”

Fey shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You’ve always been different, haven’t you Fey?” Alice asked. “Not just strong, but different from who you’ve been told you are. Your primary element is Water, but you don’t heal, do you? You hurt. You kill. Your power hasn’t ever been a calm stream. It’s a storm.”

Fey didn’t answer. Just stared at her, waiting for Alice to make her point.

“What if everything you’ve been told about yourself was a lie, Fey? What if you’re more than you think?”