Red Hood's Revenge

Twist the blade when you pull back, to break the suction and create a larger wound.”
    Mahatal ignored the knife. “Is that how you murdered my father?”
    Talia stood, returning the knife to its sheath. She couldn’t blame him for hating her. To the twins, their father had no doubt been the prince of the stories, the hero who rescued Sleeping Beauty from the hedge, only to be betrayed by the very princess he had saved.
    “Why do you stand there?” Mahatal shouted to the guards. “She killed my father!”
    “Mahatal, stop this,” said Lakhim.
    He grabbed the mage’s arm. “Ullam, if you ever loved my father, you’ll strike her down with your magic.”
    “ Enough .” Lakhim’s thin fingers snatched Mahatal’s wrist. She dragged him through the doorway, passing him to one of the guards. “See that they remain in their room until I arrive.”
    Mahatal stormed off, but Mutal turned back to Talia, turning the knife over in his hands. “You aren’t how I imagined you.” With those words, he followed his brother.
    Talia stared after them, her stomach churning.
    “Mahatal is a passionate child.” Lakhim stepped around to block the doorway, her message clear. Talia’s time with the twins was over. “Mutal’s temper is cold, but Mahatal’s burns like fairy fire.”
    “Like their uncles,” Talia said, deliberately reminding Lakhim whose children these were. Lakhim’s face turned dark.
    The scent of the boys’ nervous sweat hung in the air long after they had left. Talia inhaled deeply, then turned away from the queen. “I’m ready.”
    Ullam and a half dozen guards escorted them back through the palace.
    “You haven’t lost your family’s heritage, you know,” Danielle said softly. “You simply passed that heritage to your sons. Your bloodline will still rule Arathea once Lakhim is gone.”
    Talia sighed. “I should thank you for what you did today. Ever since I fled Arathea, I’ve been waiting for Lakhim to find me. Watching the shadows and hoping when the day came that no one else would be caught up in the bloodshed.” She turned away. “I should thank you, but I can’t. Not yet.”
    “I know,” said Danielle.
    No more words were necessary. Talia glanced back only once, then did her best to push this place from her mind. Snow and Faziya were waiting, and she was ready to go back to Lorindar.
    To go home .
     
    Snow tugged her head scarf forward, trying to shade her eyes. Talia and Danielle seemed to be taking their sweet time. She had spied through Danielle’s bracelet long enough to make sure nothing had gone wrong, but the longer she split her vision, the worse her head pounded.
    Instead, she busied herself studying the remnants of Zestan’s magic. The troll’s fairy servants had already vanished, but Zestan’s remained, bits of wind and flame and moonlight given the illusion of life. It was one of the latter Snow watched now, a glimmer of moonlight the size of a large coin that danced along the sand.
    The ghosts were gone. The Kha’iida believed they had escaped into the desert, but Snow disagreed. The princes had died searching for Talia. Having found her at last, there was nothing left to hold them in this world.
    Snow was more worried about the Wild Hunt. Without Zestan to command them, who knew what they would do. They might return to their old ways, their endless journey across this world. They might not even remember Danielle and Snow, or if they did, they might not care. All Snow knew was that she would be talking to Trittibar and Father Isaac the instant she returned home, and she didn’t intend to rest until the wards around the palace had been strengthened.
    If that failed . . . Zestan had controlled the Wild Hunt using the promise of moonlight. Anything fairy magic could accomplish, human magic could duplicate. She reached out with her mind, and the flicker of moonlight vanished. She looked into the mirrors on her armband, where a tiny moonbeam now danced.
    Oh, yes. If the Wild Hunt returned, Snow would be ready. She couldn’t wait to get home and share what she had learned with Trittibar. Ever since arriving in Arathea, she had wondered how fairy magic could function without a hill. Zestan’s body had given her the clue she needed. The peri acted as her own fairy hill. Perhaps she had absorbed the magic from the crystal mountains, or perhaps peri were natural sources of power.
    That was how the fire sprite had been able to create a fairy ring within the walls