Brave (A Wicked Trilogy 3)
“Oooh,” Tink murmured.
The New Orleans sect leader narrowed his eyes. “We are not afraid. We’re smart. We’ve been planning.”
“What does the plan entail exactly?” Ren asked.
“We know the Prince has the Crystal.” Liz turned away from the map. “With the Halfling here, we can complete the ritual and send him back.”
Ren stiffened, and suddenly, the fact the Order members were so willing to accept our presence made sense. They had realized they needed us—needed me to send the Prince back, but there was something else that picked away at me.
“This ritual,” Miles said. “What is it called?
“Blood and stone,” Fabian answered.
“That’s right. I’ve done a bit of reading up on it.” Miles’ gaze found mine. “Do you know what the ritual is?”
“I know that my blood and the blood of the Prince’s must be on the Crystal,” I said, wincing as Tink stepped on my hair, pulling it. “And I know it needs to be completed in the Otherworld.”
Miles lifted his brows. “But do you know what happens after you complete the ritual?”
“I get the hell out the Otherworld?” I surmised.
Someone snort
ed, but Miles stepped forward, a slight frown marring his features. “I may not be reading the ritual correctly, but from what I can gather, whosever blood is on that Crystal is trapped in the Otherworld.”
Dread exploded in my gut. “What?”
“It will trap both of you in the Otherworld. Not just the Prince.” Miles glanced at Fabian. “I’m guessing whomever told you about the ritual forgot to tell you that.”
Chapter 29
Stunned, I let my arms fall to my sides. He couldn’t be telling the truth. A huge part of me went into denial, because that would mean that they all . . . they all had lied to me.
“No,” whispered Tink, and then louder, “that cannot be true.” He walked out onto the end of my shoulder. “No.”
I couldn’t move as things began to click into place. No one had been forthcoming with information about the ritual with Ren. Those who knew about the ritual were readily accepting of the change I’d gone through and trusting me—trusting us.
“What the fuck?” Anger filled Ren’s tone as he turned toward Faye and the other Summer fae. “Is that true? Ivy would be trapped in the Otherworld?”
Faye blanched, and I knew right then it was true, and it was like the floor had opened under my feet. My chest hollowed. “It makes sense now.”
Ren turned to me. “This isn’t making any damn sense.”
“But it is.” My throat thickened, and I couldn’t take my eyes off Faye. “That’s why you guys helped me escape and made sure I was safe. It wasn’t out of the kindness of your hearts. You needed me—needed me alive unless you found another halfling. One that had a chance of making it to the Otherworld with the Prince and completing the ritual.”
Daniel and Miles, along with the San Diego branch looked on in silence. I had no idea what they were thinking.
“You knew that you were needed alive to complete the ritual.” Fabian turned toward me. “It has to be the blood of a halfling and the Winter Prince. You must be alive for that to happen.”
“No shit,” snapped Ren. “We know that. We also know that the ritual has to be completed in the Otherworld. At no point did anyone mention that it would trap her there.”
“That is a pretty big thing to forget to tell someone,” Miles chimed in.
“We didn’t forget.” Faye faced us, her eyes pleading with us to understand. “We had hoped to find a way to ensure that you would not be trapped there.”
A choked laugh escaped me. “You hoped?”
“This is awkward,” Liz murmured under her breath.
“That’s it.” Ren stalked toward me. “We’re out.”
“What?” I turned to him, and Tink walked back up my shoulder, placing a hand on the side of my head to steady himself.
“We’re done with this shit.” His bright green gaze met mine. “So fucking done.”
Kalen started toward him. “Ren—”
“Fuck no.” He shot the male fae a dangerous look of warning, one Kalen heeded by stopping. “We didn’t sign up for this. Ivy didn’t sign up for this. She’s not going to sacrifice herself. Fuck that shit.”
Do I have a choice?
That question caused a shiver to course down my spine. Just as I feared last night, we were left with only one other option. Find a way to weaken the Prince long enough to kill him.
Betrayal mixed with anger as I lifted my chin and stared at the Order members. “Do you all know how to kill the Prince?”
Daniel and Liz exchanged looks. It was her that spoke up. “A thorn stake—”
“We know that a thorn stake will kill him—kill any prince.” I looked at Fabian, who arched a brow. “But have you fought a prince? A Knight or an Ancient?”
Liz’s lips thinned. “We haven’t—”
“Then you don’t realize how incredibly hard it is to even fight an Ancient, and that’s nothing like facing a prince,” I told them. “So, I’m guessing you have no idea how to weaken the Prince.”
“We have one standing right in front of us that could answer that question,” Daniel pointed out.
“Ivy,” Ren said, frustration biting at his tone. “Let’s—”
Someone from outside shouted, and I whipped around so fast that Tink left my shoulder and hovered beside me.
The door we’d came through exploded off the hinges. A body flew through the air, hitting the floor with a fleshy smack. It was an Order member, one of the men who’d been outside. His throat . . . God, it was ripped out, exposing tissue.
“Shit.” I reached for my daggers. Order members shot from their chairs, and everything I’d just learned faded to the background.
The feeling from earlier came back, the one that screamed all of this, from the moment the Prince left New Orleans to now had been too easy. I knew deep in my bones that this was a trap and all of us had walked right into it.
Another body landed near the other, thrown from deep in the hall.
“We’re under siege!” Liz shouted, brandishing weapons. “Prepare!”
“Get back, Tink.” My grip tightened on the daggers, and I prayed to God he listened as icy air rolled into the large meeting room, seeping over the floors.
Ren appeared at my side, thorn stake in hand. “This is not good.”
“No. It’s not.”
A roar that shook the walls filled my stomach with knots. A stuttered heartbeat later, they came through the doorway. Kalen cocked his arm, letting the dagger he held fly. It smacked into the chest of the first fae, taking it down, but then another and another came through the narrow opening, until dozens of fae were in the room with us. Most were not normal fae. Most were Ancients—Knights of the Prince.
“Crap,” I whispered, stamping down on the bite of fear.
We met them head-on.
Instinct took over as stakes whizzed through the air, some falling, clattering off the dusty floor, and others striking true. Screams and shouts mixed with the wet sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones. It was a whirl of mayhem, and I quickly lost sight of Tink in the crowd of fast-moving bodies.
Ren brought down the nearest fae, moving as fluid and graceful as a dancer. I whipped around, shoving my stake deep into the chest of a fae as Fabian began to glow like the sun. I caught sight of him stalking forward, lifting an arm. A fiery ball of light formed in his hand as Daniel squared off with a Knight.
I started toward them, cut off by a fae who charged me. I danced to the side, my booted foot slipping in something wet—blood. Straightening, I lifted my gaze and saw the female fae coming my way. She darted toward me, but didn’t engage. Then it clicked into place. She was keeping me from engaging. They weren’t trying to fight me. They knew I was the Halfling and that I . . . I needed to be alive, but if there was another halfling, I was disposable.
None of that mattered at the moment.
Rushing toward her, I caught her arm as she tried to sidestep me. She screamed as I twisted, spinning her around. Stabbing the dagger down into her chest, I jerked it back out as I let go of her. She was already folding into herself by the time she hit the floor.
The temperature dropped again and I spun toward the opening as a tall, slender woman stalked into the room. Breena. That fucking bitch was here. Every part of my brain clicked off as I prowled toward her. If anyone died today, it would be her. I swore to God and baby llamas everywhere, that bitch was going down.