Brave (A Wicked Trilogy 3)

The Prince had pulled me—pulled us—free.

Wind whipped through the room and was ripped out of it, sucking back through the door. Twisting in Ren’s arms, my eyes were wide as the bright blue light pulsed once and then twice and then pulled into itself until there was just a dot of light in the never-ending darkness, and then there was nothing but bone-chilling blackness.

The door to the Otherworld swung closed, sealing itself up with the Queen and the Crystal inside.

Chapter 35

Slowly, we picked ourselves up, one at a time. The Prince was helping his brother stand, and Faye was with Kalen, one arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

Miles was next to Dylan and Jackie. All of us were still alive, but we . . .

“We failed,” I whispered, staring at the sealed doorway. “We actually failed.”

Silence greeted me as Ren slipped an arm around my waist, drawing me to his side. I felt his lips brush my temple, but bitter disappointment washed over me, nearly stripping me of whatever strength was left.

We failed.

The Queen was gone, but she was going to come back with a vicious, monstrous army. Probably in days. Hours if we weren’t lucky.

I stumbled back.

“But did we really fail?” Dylan asked. “The Queen is gone. So are all the Ancients—”

“We have no idea if all the Ancients are gone, but we had to have taken out nearly all of them.” Miles limped forward, picking up a fallen stake. “But the Queen has the Crystal in the Otherworld. She can come back at any time—”

“It won’t be for a long time.” Fabian’s voice was hoarse. “You stabbed her with one of the icicles, right?”

Turning, we looked at him and my mouth dropped open. He was a ghostly color. My gaze shot to Kalen. So was he. Both were barely standing, all of their limbs trembling. “I did. I got her in the shoulder. Pretty deep, too.”

The Prince looked at me sharply. “You did? You’re sure?”

“Yes. Hit the bone. What?” I pulled away from Ren. “What’s going on?”

“If she was wounded with her own magic, her own weapons, she will . . .” The Prince trailed off, and then he did something I hadn’t heard from him since the enchantment was broken.

The Prince laughed—a deep, loud laugh.

Ren walked forward, his movements stiff. “Can you fill us in on what’s going on? Because I’m not sure what is funny right now.”

“Me either,” Miles muttered, sheathing the stake at his hip.

“Being wounded by one of those icicles would take any fae time to recover from. It would’ve killed a mortal.” The Prince turned back to his brother, wrapping an arm around his waist. “But for the Queen to be wounded with her own magic is catastrophic. The same for any of us.”

“So what does that mean?” Jackie demanded, wiping at the blood along her cheek. “Will it kill her?”

“No.” The Prince led Fabian to the door. “But it will greatly weaken her for a very long time.”

I didn’t dare let any hope grow in me as I limped after them, but I remembered him mentioning this when he’d told us what would weaken them. “How long is a very long time?”

“Months,” he answered.

“Months? Are you kidding me? That’s not a long time.” It was better than weeks or hours, but still not long enough.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Months in the Otherworld are years in the mortal world.”

“Years?” Ren repeated. “Like in plural?”

“In plural,” the Prince responded. “And while she’s weak, she’s not going to be able to gather an army. With her powers down and wounded, she won’t gain many supporters. Not in the Otherworld, where only the strong and fully powered gain support.”

My heart was thundering in my chest. “So, what does this mean exactly?”

“It means we didn’t fail,” he replied, smiling slightly. It was warm, but didn’t reach his eyes. I didn’t think any of his smiles did. “We will have years to prepare for her return.”

I limped down the steps, my head a mix of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Had we failed? Yes? No? I wasn’t sure, and I was too damn tired to really think about it and too freaking ecstatic that we were all alive to beat myself up about not getting the Crystal or killing her.

I’d leave that for tomorrow.

Because we were going to have a tomorrow.

“Ivy!” Tink screeched the moment I reached the bottom of the stairs.

I drew up short as he raced away from Fabian and all but tackled me, wrapping his long arms around me. “You’re alive!”

“Yes,” I squeaked. “And I thought you were supposed to stay at the hotel.”

“I did, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I showed up just as everyone was coming down the stairs.” He rocked me back and forth. “I went out all by myself and found the place!”

“He wasn’t by himself,” I heard Tanner say. “He was getting worried, and well, we couldn’t stop him.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I hugged him back, too happy to be hugging him again to be mad about him not listening to us.

“What happened?” Tink asked, and I pulled away as Faye began to explain everything.

Ren moved over to the Princes while Tink was given the breakdown, and I saw that Tanner hadn’t come alone. Brighton was with him, lingering in the back. She was staring at the two Princes, her pretty face pale.

“We need to get my brother back to the hotel,” The Prince said. “He needs to rest, as does Kalen.”

Tink moved away from me, hurrying to Fabian’s side. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He will be.”

“What can we do to help them?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he answered. “All we could do is wait for the affects to wear off.”

Looking at the pale and drawn faces of Fabian and Kalen, I felt really bad for them. “How long?”

“Too long,” grunted Fabian. “We should be fine . . . in a few weeks.”

Weeks? My eyes widened.

“I . . . I brought an SUV.” Brighton cleared her throat and then spoke up. “I can take them back.”

I drew in a shuddering breath and walked over to where the Princes stood. Ren was already there. “Hey,” I said, glancing between the two of them. “I just want to thank you for, um, saving us—saving me back there. If you hadn’t . . .”

He stared at me. “You do not need to thank me. Ever.”

I shifted, uneasy. “But I do. We do.”

“She’s right.” Ren’s shoulders tensed as he extended a hand to the Prince. “Thank you, Prince.”

The Prince’s gaze flickered from Ren’s hand to his face, and then after a long moment, he took Ren’s hand and shook it. “You’re welcome.” Releasing Ren’s hand, he glanced over at me. And my name is not Prince. It is Caden.”

Faint sunlight seeped under the heavy curtains, slipping its way across the bedroom floor, toward the bed. I had no idea what time it was since Ren apparently didn’t believe in bedroom clocks, but I knew it had to be late in the afternoon.

Just like we talked about the day before, we hadn’t gone back to Hotel Good Fae last night when everyone left the house on Royal Street. We’d gone back to Ren’s, because we . . . because we could, and now it felt like I’d slept forever, but as I stared at the tiny particles of dust dancing in the stream of light, I wasn’t sure I