Page 210 of The Witch Queen

She’s quiet for a few moments. And I’m sure that I’ve lost her. Lost everything. But then—

“Let her go,” Mother says at last.

Relief floods my veins. But Shade doesn’t move. His shadows dance around him.

“Let hergo,” Mother repeats, sharper.

I will not,he snaps.There can be no other way.

And then his shadowy hand plunges into my chest.

—

A pain like I’ve never known explodes inside me.

I can barely breathe as Shade’s icy fingers wrap around my heart and squeeze. My pulse slows, the dregs of my latent power dimming until I can hardly sense it at all. White-hot agony sears in my chest, like everything inside of me is freezing and burning at once.

“What are you doing?” Mother’s voice reaches me through the haze.

She is a threat,Shade replies.Unworthy.

Mother looks between us, wearing the same expression she did on the night Rhea died—horror mixed with disbelief.

“She’s my daughter,” she barks. “Release her at once.”

Youdo not commandme, Shade reminds her.We serve you only as long as you serve us.

He draws out the last syllables, a line in the sand. Mother senses it, too. It’s me or the shadows. She holds my gaze, the years unspooling between us. Every argument. Every tender word. I latch onto that connection, begging her to come back. Chooseme.But then—

“Very well,” she says, her jaw set.

The last sliver of my hope evaporates. Shade’s fingers tighten around my heart. I can feel it ossifying, a piece of glass that only needs the slightest pressure to shatter. I look to Jacquetta, a thousand unspoken words filling the space between us. I wish I could speak them all. Tell her how much I love her. How sorry I am for the wasted years. But the angles of her face start to blur as the world dims into—

Light erupts across my vision. I’m tossed backward and onto the flagstones. But the shock of my landing is nothing compared to the rush of relief as air floods back into my lungs. As my heart starts beating again, my skin stinging with warmth, as though I’ve just come back from the dead.

“Ayleth!” Jacquetta kneels beside me, Blodwyn with her.

I swallow, tasting copper. “What happened? What was that?”

“Your mother,” Blodwyn answers, evidently as confused as I am.

Mother?That doesn’t make any sense.

I struggle to sit upright, still dizzy. Across the courtyard, Mother and Shade are battling. Gavin, the Dwarves, the rest of the witches, and even Nox are scattered around them, engaged in their own fighting with the shadow creatures.

“She summoned a lightning strike,” Jacquetta explains. “Sent it on Shade. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it severed his hold on you.”

My mind spins, vainly trying to comprehend the situation. Why isMother fighting Shade at all? Why had she chosen me over the shadows? Over her own power? As though she can sense my thoughts, Mother pauses. Faces me. But her expression remains unreadable.

“Ayleth!” Jacquetta says, gripping my shoulder. “The crown!”

She points. The Bloodstones glitter on the flagstones. Mother must have dropped the crown in the commotion. Ignoring my screaming muscles, I stagger to my feet and stumble toward it. My fingers clasp over the cold metal of the crown. But another pair of hands snatches it from the other side.

“Don’t!” Sindony shouts. “This isn’t what we agreed!”

“There’s no time for discussion! Wehaveto destroy it.”

“And if it destroys us?”