Estefania couldn't believe her sister had sacrificed herself. Avangelique was dying, and it was all her fault. She'd lost the trial because she'd been arrogant, just like Mona. She thought she was right, but it cost her everything.
Nathaniel brushed up against her hand and whined reassuringly as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. She had to admit that the marquis's second form didn't bother her. She didn't know if that was because of her own curse or because she was growing attached to the wolf.
Lorenzo raged ahead of them, showing her the way to the throne room. She half expected the younger prince of Cyra to pull the sword from his belt and start slashing wildly. She'd seen the looks of affection between Lorenzo and her sister.
At first, she thought it was nothing more than a deep friendship. Perhaps they'd grown as close as siblings since Avangelique had been raised alongside the Cyran princes. Now, she wondered if it was something more.
Rillian followed behind at a slower pace. The fairy was still strange to Estefania, but she didn't know why. She'd sensed power from Trix, but the former fairy prince seemed to be devoid of any magic she could feel.
Finally, the four of them entered the massive throne room. The entire room was guided in gold, including the massive throne shaped like a full moon, which was studded with diamonds and pale sapphires. Estefania knew this throne contrasted Sahar's own sun throne, and they had both been gifts from the fairy empress to a long-forgotten generation in the county dynasties of kings and queens.
"Mother told me the password when I was a child," Lorenzo said. "I think she just wanted Avangelique and me out of the palace at times so she could have peace and quiet. She thought an abandoned fairy kingdom a playground fit for a prince."
Estefania bit her lip. Mona wasn't wrong. The king and queen of Cyra certainly were rotten. She wasn't a bit surprised that they were absentee parents. At least her father visited with the supply caravans.
Lorenzo kneeled and placed his palm on the throne. The metal glowed brightly below his hand, and the prince spoke one word.
"Luraline."
The throne opened up like a hatching egg, and bright light filled the space between the halves. Rillian smiled at the sight of the magic and reached out to touch the light. Lorenzo just scowled and walked straight through.
"I never thought I'd see the isle again," Rillian said. "Or hear the name of the eldest fairy empress spoken aloud."
"I thought the fairy empress was immortal," Estefania asked.
Rillian shook his head. "The fairy empress is long-lived and reincarnates when she passes into a new young woman. There have, in fact, been twelve before Cressida. It's not genetic. When the empress is ready, she goes in search of her successor. Then she passes the magic and allows herself to step below the sunset."
Estefania frowned. "Could the empress have reincarnated when Mona destroyed the fairies?"
Rillian shivered. "I don't know much about my mother's magic, but I imagine it's possible. I'd imagine the girl was just waiting for the right magic to awaken."
That gave her hope. Unfortunately, it didn't change the nibbling thought in her mind that there was something wrong with Rillian. He couldn't awaken anyone.
"You don't have magic, do you?" She asked, but she already knew the answer.
"I'm not a fairy," Rillian said. "I've never been able to wield wish magic. I'm not tied to the realm, so I was able to escape Mona's wrath."
He stepped through the golden glow and was gone. Nathaniel nuzzled her back, and she took a steading breath. Once she was ready, Nathaniel and she stepped into the former world of the fairies together.
The first thing she felt was a blast of hot air, which reminded her of the desert. Sand filled her sandals, and she opened her eyes to see the green waves hitting the shore on the white beach. It was certainly warmer than Cyra here, with a sticky heat that clung to her skin and dampened her robes.
Lorenzo and Rillian had gone further down the beach towards a wild-looking jungle. The prince pointed out a path while Rillian just stared up open-mouthed at the massive ruined castle crumbling into the side of the mountain in the center of the jungle. She imagined that sixteen years of ruin had greatly changed his home in ways that even he didn't expect.
"I'm guessing we need to get to the castle," Estefania moved down the beach with haste to catch up with the boys. "Or is there somewhere else the Fairy Empress kept her most prized possessions?"
"We'll need to go to the library of records first," Rillian said. "If there's anything about my mother's scepter, it will be there."
"I've been to the library," Lorenzo said. "It's sacked. The books are all in ruins."
For the first time without Trix around, Rillian smiled slightly. "There is more than one kind of knowledge, young prince. Follow me and learn the ways of fairies."
It took them until sunrise to hike to the castle. Lorenzo hacked at vines that kept trying to grow over the paths. Estefania tripped over the bottom of her robe more than twenty times before they reached the castle gate. Her entire body ached, and a gnawing hunger had reached the bottom of her stomach.
The only one of them who'd fared any better was Nathaniel. He'd plodded his way through the jungle as a wolf with complete disregard for any issues. She almost envied him, except she remembered that he was cursed and would rather be with them in his human form. He was just so emotional he couldn't change.
The gates of the gray stone palace were thrown wide in welcome and shaded with vines. Lorenzo removed a few vines from the entryway and led the way into the castle and down the hall to a massive staircase that was only slightly starting to crumble.
Once the party had reached the top, Lorenzo and Rillian made a right turn and worked together to open a huge set of heavy polished brass doors. Nathaniel whimpered as the doors creaked loudly, granting the four admittances to the library of the fairies.
It was a library unlike Estefania had ever seen. A large pool of clear water took up the center of the room. Then there were hundreds of alcoves like little catacombs in the wall, each filled with a single candle and labeled with a name. There were empty slots for scrolls along one wall, and shredded paper covered the floor alongside a dozen stripped leather covers.
"The souls of the library," Rillian gestured to the candles. "Each represents a fairy who entered the order. The candles contain the memories of every fairy that ever was. That is an even greater knowledge than that of books."
"Magic is truly strange," Lorenzo stared at the candles in awe. "How will this help us find what we need?"
"We light the candles and use the empress's mirror," Rillian said. "The pool channels the memories of the lit candles. A fairy just sits at the edge of the pool, and whatever they desire will be shown if it is known."
"It'll take an hour to light all the candles," Lorenzo said. "Even with three of us, there must be millions of them."
Rillian looked at Estefania. "It'll be easier if you try, my dear. Focus on the light of knowledge and pull at that power."
It was a strange sentiment, but she understood what he wanted. Estefania closed her eyes and raised her hands, palms facing out. Light was in all things, and she could bring it here.
Even behind her closed retinas, she could feel the brightness as every candle in the room lit up like the stars at night. She opened her eyes to see the fire blazing at the top of each candle, letting them burn.
Rillian nodded as if he were impressed. "Now kneel at the poolside princess and feel for what you desire. Reach into the mirror and find yourself and what you seek."
She followed his instructions. Nathaniel curled up beside her, rumbling affectionately. Her hand met the cool liquid of the pool, which looked like water but was slick like clear oil. It clung to her skin as she searched for the magic.
It hit her in the stomach almost immediately. Her veins filled with more magic than she'd ever felt in her life. She half wondered if her face was glowing as the overflowing amount of power crashed through her body.
"Stay focused," Rillian said. "Find what we want."
She couldn't fail again. Her sister needed her. Returning her focus to the magic, she dipped deeper into the pool. There, something called out, and she closed her eyes to embrace the fluid's enchantments.
She opened her eyes, and she stood beside the sun throne in the Saharite throne room. Her grandmother, Queen Blythe, sat with one leg thrown over the other, wrapped in a red and gold robe. There were fewer lines on her face, and her hair was only sprinkled with silver. Estefania could see her father beside her, looking no older than she was, standing at her grandmother's side.
"You've failed me, Hadrian," Blythe looked at her son. "But at the same time, you have succeeded in a way that brings the country peace."
Her grandmother looked disappointed, and something simmered behind her eyes that was more dangerous than Estefania remembered. Her grandmother had always been a fair and wise ruler who worked alone and rarely invited outside opinion.
The doors to the throne room swung open, and two figures walked in together. Her jaw dropped as she realized she was staring at Solomon, who had less gray in his beard, and Mona. She was the same age as her father and looked at the Saharite prince with cold eyes.
"Solomon," Blythe said. "I must apologize for my son's indiscretions. I know that this is not what we desired for the future of our kingdom."
"What we desired?" Solomon sighed. "Your majesty, your son promised to marry my daughter, and instead, he broke our contract. Now you're telling me that your plan is to allow him to marry his little mistress and allow their baby to be the heir of your empire?"
"The fairy empress tells me my granddaughter will be powerful," Blythe said. "I need this girl as my heir. There isn't another way."
"Then you're abandoning your promise to my Monique," Solomon said. "If that is what you wish, we cannot argue."
"Father?" Mona whirled on Solomon. "What are you doing?"
"The queen has made her decision, Monique," Solomon said. "It is not our place to question her."
"So you're going to roll over?" Mona shook her head. "Hadrian, you can't let her do this. You love me. You love me."
Estefania watched as her father turned his face away. "I'm sorry, Monique. You left me to become a fairy."
"He's made his decision," her grandmother said. "He will marry Francessca, and our kingdom will have its princess. I'm sorry, Monique."
There was no sincerity in her words. Estefania knew her parents had gotten married after her mother got pregnant with her. She hadn't known her father had broken off a prior engagement after the news of the pregnancy broke.
Mona screamed. "You love me! You love me! You love me!"
Solomon lifted his daughter off the ground and carried her out of the room. She beat his chest as Solomon's pace increased. When they were gone and the shouts were lost to the castle, Blythe turned to her son once again.
"You have ruined what might have been a great thing," the queen said. "And your daughter had better be worth it."
"She will be, my queen," her father bowed his head. "She will be your perfect successor."
Mona had a right to her grudge against the Saharite royals. Her father had broken their betrothal. He'd broken her heart into pieces, and he didn't seem to care.
Estefania blinked back, a tear forming in her eyes. Then she could see the isle again. The fairies' castle was restored. A beautiful woman with long red hair and pale skin walked alongside Mona. Her wings were like butterflies, translucent and multicolored like stained glass. She had Elowen's tiara and was wearing a loose white gown.
Estefania tried to narrow in on the location of the scepter, but her attention caught on the fairy empress. There was something about her that was ethereal and breathtaking.
"I know you are hurt, Mona, my child," the empress's voice was lilting. "But you cannot let pain define you. Your wishes have become spiteful. What you did to the Cyran royal family is almost unforgivable."
"I granted his prideful and selfish desire," Mona said. "He deserved it, Cressida."
"You should have told him the wish was unwise and given him counsel," the empress shook her head. "We aren't meant to deal vengeance. We can only hope he has a change of heart."
"He was more despicable than Hadrian," Mona said. "There is no way he'll ask for the wish reversed."
The empress stared off into the distance, and Mona's words weighed her down. "Let's pray he does, or I fear for Cyra's future."
Estefania couldn't imagine what the empress was thinking. Ruling fairies surely wasn't easy. She watched as the fairy ruler held out her hand, and a golden rod studded with diamonds appeared in her grasp.
The scepter.
She was so close. All Estefania needed to know was where the empress had placed the scepter before the fall. The magic bent to her will, taking her deeper until she gasped for breath and fell, falling.
A whimper overtook her ears. She needed the scepter, but her mind could barely cling to the thought. The mirror was far more powerful than she expected. She tasted blood in her mouth as the magic of the mirror swallowed her whole and plunged her deeper into everything and nothing all at once.