He cut the blade deeper this time, drawing more blood.
A broken sob escaped Maeve. It would haunt him for the remainder of his days, but his actions gleaned the desired effect.
“Enough!” Parisa shouted, and the green jewel she wore pulsed with dark magic. “You’ve made your point, High King.”
“Have I?” he taunted. “I don’t see how she can be of any value. You had no problem tossing her into this BloodFest. In fact, you sat there and waited for her to die.”
Parisa tossed her head back, her stringy, thinning hair stuck to her frail neck, and she cackled. “Do you actually think I’d sit here and let her die? I control every dark fae—their minds, their actions, are a mere extension of my own. I merely wanted to watch her suffer, for I know how much it kills her to take the pitiful lives of the innocent. She was never in peril. But you…you are the one I wish to see dead more than all the rest. Because with you gone, she will be that much easier to break.”
Tiernan grinned, applying a bit more pressure to the blade at Maeve’s throat. When she cried out and thrashed against him, Parisa nearly leapt out of her squalid throne.
“What do you want?” she shouted, lunging forward. Her eye bulged so severely that for a split second, he thought it might pop out of her head.
“That’s a rather vague question.” He lifted the dagger, admiring the beads of crimson sliding down its sharpened edge. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Tier…” Maeve pleaded through their bond.
“Just play along.”
He tapped the blade against the iron collar, and Maeve trembled. He wasn’t entirely sure she was pretending.
“Very well.” Parisa clasped her hands together, eyeing him coolly. “What can I give you in order to keep you from killing Maeve? I very much want her alive.”
This time, Tiernan didn’t hesitate.
“Release myself, Rowan, Casimir from the iron bindings and let us go. Free those Spring fae you’re using as pawns. I want them guaranteed safe passage to Niahvess. No harm should come to them in any shape or form, at any time. Ever. You will also relinquish control of their minds at once.”
She looked pissed. Her too-thin eyebrows pulled into a scowl and the gaunt planes of her face hollowed out in severity. “That’s a rather extensive list of demands. Anything else?”
“Yes.” This was it. His last chance. “Drop the veil.”
Her head tilted. “Pardon?”
“Your magic,” he clarified. “Whatever you’re using to shroud the Spring Court, I want you to recall it immediately and vow that it will never return.”
She shook her head and leaned back, her thin wisps of graying hair tangling around her face. “No. You ask for too much.”
“That’s too bad.” Tiernan slid the flat edge of the blade along Maeve’s neck, then with his other hand, he discreetly reached around and pinched the side of her breast. Hard.
Maeve shrieked, spasming against him.
“You win!” Parisa threw up both of her hands, gesturing wildly at her guards. “Remove the iron at once and send those pathetic fae to Niahvess. I no longer require their services.”
Two Puca strode up to Rowan and Casimir and removed the iron cuffs from their wrists. Neither of them moved. They didn’t flinch. They didn’t draw any unwanted attention. Tiernan held out one arm at a time, while the hideous dark fae hovering near him unlatched the iron that restrained his power. The moment the metal broke free, his magic surged, and his patience waned.
“The veil, Parisa,” Tiernan demanded. “Or Maeve dies.”
“Fine,” she snapped, huffing like the selfish fallen princess he’d always known her to be. “But as soon as I do this, you better release her, or I will bring the wrath of the Sluagh upon your Court.”
Tiernan inclined his head in the slightest of acknowledgements. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Corrupted magic tainted the air. Like festering citrus and charred wood, the stench of it permeated the arena, spreading like a disease.
Maeve recoiled, and even Tiernan tried not to retch.
Slowly, the magical shroud engulfing the Spring Court fell. Though he couldn’t see past the tall stone walls surrounding them, he knew Suvarese suffered. It was as though the land had been cursed by a devastating plague, one that siphoned the life force from every plant and creature trapped within its clutches. The earth shuddered, expelling a breath of release, but it would be some time before magic ever returned to this place.
Maeve stiffened in his arms, and he knew she could sense it as well.
