I Do Believe in Faeries (The Cotton Candy Quintet Book 3) (10 page)

The goblins moved through the woods, fast enough for the trees to become blurs. I couldn’t keep up with them and I gave up fighting, the pain from my ribs and my hunger taking over. So I just went along for the ride.

When Autumn gave way to Winter, I knew that I was more alone than I had believed possible.

Chapter 11

I decided pretty quickly that I hated the Winter Court more than any other place in Tir na nÓg. It was freezing here, making my breath come out in little bursts of white and there was a serious lack of fae around. Having grown up in Jacksonville, where the coldest it ever got was forty degrees, I couldn’t stop shivering. So while the goblins and everyone else seemed to be unaffected by the temperature, I was absolutely miserable.

Spent, hurt, and hungry, I let the goblins carry me. I wondered briefly if I was dying, because I had gone so long without food and water. Time seemed to move strangely in Tir na nÓg, so I blocked out the worry and focused on what was important: I imagined all of the various ways that I could punch Robin’s face in.

I kept replaying every conversation through my head, wondering if it truly was all orchestrated to get me to Queen Mab. It would have been pretty elaborate, to gain my trust and take me to different courts. But something told me that faeries tricked mere mortals like me, and it wasn’t out of the question.

I’d been had. If I ever got alone with him again, I was going to set him on fire and watch him turn to dust.

In fact, fantasizing about it was the only thing that got me through our trip to the Winter Court. It’s amazing how hate can both warm and freeze your core. It got me through the darkest part of the trek.

Eventually, the cold, open night and white fields started getting rockier and we started ascending a mountain covered in snow.

Robin didn’t speak directly to me the entire time. Instead, he was up at the front of our little caravan, chatting away with the goblin leader like they were old buddies. Funny, because the leader had threatened Robin when they first showed up.

Oh, I hated them. I hated them all. If only my fire magick worked, I could get away from them. But then what would I do? Would I just hide out in Tir na nÓg for the rest of my days? Was there any hope of me rescuing Alaina’s baby? Maybe I could go back and ask Titania if she’d take me as a servant again. At least there, I’d be treated better than anywhere else.

I shut my eyes and shook my head, unable to believe that I just thought that. Nothing about any of this was right. I had to find Alaina’s baby and get out of here at any cost. If I had any chance of escape, I had to take it. Except the goblins kept a keen eye on me. For now, there was no way for me to get away.

Ugh, I hated faeries.

I spotted the castle ahead at the edge of a cliff. Like I had pictured, it was a castle made entirely out of ice.

“How original,” I muttered out loud.

None of the goblins acknowledged I had said anything, and Robin didn’t even look back at me. That fueled my anger even more.

“Mab has done some renovating,” Robin appraised, surprising me. Although not really, because I didn’t care about anything he said.

“Yeah,” the goblin leader agreed. “She had to do something after you melted half of it.”

Robin chuckled lightly. “She should thank me. It looks much better this way.”

I had no idea what it was before, but it was quite a sight now. Queen Mab apparently liked her castles tall and cold. While Titania’s castle felt organic and made out of trees and flowers, the castle for the Winter Court was built like an impenetrable ice fortress. The structure rose as high as any skyscraper in Jacksonville, which was impressive considering that it was made out of ice.

I wish I had another joke to make of it. Then it wouldn’t seem as imposing and terrifying.

I had nothing, except for betrayal and desolation.

As we came up to the entrance of the castle, I looked up to the see the tall, forty-foot high double doors in front of us. The Winter Court Queen apparently liked grand entrances.

My suspicions were confirmed as the twin doors opened and a lone, tall woman in black stood before us, her gown glittering like the night sky. Her dark, depthless ebony hair was bound up high on her head and her skin was as pale as the ice around her. Her eyes were an icy blue as she shrewdly looked at our little group.

“Robin Goodfellow,” she said, and her cold voice sent a different kind of shiver down my spine. There was no emotion or really any personality in her voice. She was as cold as the frozen castle around her. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

To my chagrin, the red-headed faerie bowed deeply before the ice queen. “Oh your iciness, coldness, highness,” he said. “I have only just been able to get back to Tir na nÓg to see you. I’ve been indisposed in the mortal realm.”

Mab narrowed her eyes. “You still owe me a debt for what you did to my castle last time you were here.”

“I am here to make amends.”

Her jaw clenched. “There’s a lot of amends you’d need to make for that.”

So she still held a grudge against Robin. It seemed like this ice queen was unable to let it go.

Unfortunately, that caused Mab to train her icy gaze on me. Her eyes widened perceptibly as she strode towards me, the train of her black gown trailing through the snow.

“A mortal girl,” she murmured. “How interesting.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Sure. That’s what the last queen said.”

“She’s a present for you, my queen,” Robin said without skipping a beat. He glared at me. “I know how you like playing with mortal lives.”

Irritation twitched between Mab’s immaculate eyebrows as she flicked her gaze back to him. “A present you say?”

“A first step as an apology for undoing all of the wrong that I’ve done.”

Fury rose in my chest. “Robin!” I screamed, a flurry of curses on my tongue. “You no-good—”

I gagged as if my tongue went stiff in my mouth. Mab held her hand out, reminding me a bit of Darth Vader choking people with the Force. That’s exactly what she was doing to me. Finally, she released me and I could breathe again.

Okay, so Mab was worse than Titania. Way worse.

The queen’s lips quirked into a smile, and I didn’t like that it was directed at me. There was something sinister in that smile that told me that I had to keep my mouth shut or else face her wrath.

“It’s a fair start,” the queen decided. “She should be interesting.” She snapped her fingers. “Bring her to my receiving room,” she commanded to the goblins. “I’d like to see who this girl is. And Robin—”

“Your Frozenness?”

“I want you there with me.”

***

“Robin, where have you been for the past few aeons?” Mab crooned from her throne.

It was a beautifully flawless room, with everything in it a variation of an ice sculpture or snow. Mab herself sat on a dais that made her seem imposing to all of her subjects. Granted, there weren’t that many subjects in the room. While the Spring Court had been buzzing and vibrant with life, the Winter Court was a sterile environment. The only blemishes on the black and white color palette were the goblins, Robin, and me.

Mab fit right in with the world she created around herself with a palette of black and white.

I couldn’t figure out how no one else froze like me. I kept shivering in the cold, and my skin was blue and covered in goosebumps. My fingers even had trouble moving because pinpricks of ice seemed to penetrate to the bone.

I was miserable, though no one else seemed to be.

“I was indisposed, your Frozenness,” Robin said, stepping forward. I just wanted to wipe that smug expression off his face with a well-placed fire to his face.

Mab raised an eyebrow. “Indisposed, you say?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “How? And—” she held up a finger in warning, “—do not call me ‘your Frozenness’ again or else I will make sure that you feel the extent of my powers.”

I was too tired to feel smug at that.

“I have been in the Mortal Realm at King Oberon’s request,” Robin explained, his face going impassive.

Mab smirked. “Ah yes. Performing your lapdog duties.”

The only indication that he didn’t like being called a lapdog came in the form of him widening his eyes.

Then again, I could have just imagined it.

“You see,” Robin continued, “King Oberon had a bogie desert his warm summer lands for…greener pastures, if you will.”

“You’re saying the bogie became a solitary fae?” Mab asked, taking an interest in his words.

“Indeed. And Oberon was heart-broken because it was his favorite bogie. Surely you’ve heard of Fiddlesticks the Bogie?”

“I have not, and I don’t have much use for Oberon’s play things. Including yourself, Robin.” She snickered. “Foolish. Bogies never did have much of a brain between them. The Mortal Realm is a mess these days. It’s suicide for faeries to go there.”

“Agreed.”

She stroked her chin in thought. “Funny you should bring up solitary fae though. I just had a bunch of pixies try to bargain for a place in my Court.”

That perked up my ears.

“What did you say?” I whispered.

Robin shot me a look before turning back to the queen. “Pixies?” he asked.

She waved her hand away as if she was dismissing the thought. “Just a bunch of pixies who were desperate to earn their way back into our good graces. They had baby with them, can you believe that?”

“No!” Robin exclaimed in mock surprise, putting a hand to his mouth in a scandalous gesture. “You don’t say!”

Hope fluttered to life in my chest. This was where Robin was going to look back at me and wink, giving me an insight that this was all a plan for him to get information out of Mab. That he wasn’t really tricking me into being a mortal gift for this queen.

Except nothing ever goes how I want it to.

My hope died as he snickered back at me. “Funny you should say that about pixies and a baby, your Graceness. Our little mortal girl here is looking for a bunch of pixies and a baby.”

Mab threw her head back and laughed, sending shivers down my spine. The Winter Court Queen laughing was not a pretty sound on the ears. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, and I gritted my teeth.

“What would she want with a bunch of pixies and a baby?”

Robin shrugged. “She thinks she can save the baby.”

Ouch. Really, ouch. I bit back my tears and my retorts.

“Well, the mortal girl is entirely in the wrong Court,” Mab said, wiping icicle tears from her eyes. “Apparently she and pixies have the same intelligence level. Pixies should know that they’d freeze in my Court after being here for some time.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I sent them on their way to the Summer Court. After all, what use would I have had for a human baby?”

The Summer Court.

I had been on my way there, and if that giant hadn’t gotten in the way, I’d have been able to appear before King Oberon and gotten Alaina’s baby back. Maybe that could have spared me from Robin’s betrayal. I wouldn’t have gotten to this point. Heck, I’d probably be home right now, snuggled up under my covers, glad to be out of this mess.

I didn’t notice that Mab had moved from her throne. She descended, every step making ice crystals spread around her. The very air itself grew colder as she came right up to me.

“But I do have a use for a mortal girl,” she murmured softly. She reached out and grabbed my chin, roughly inspecting me. “You could be useful against those ingrates Titania and Oberon. A bargaining chip.”

What was it with faeries and bargains? “I’m not a bargaining chip,” I muttered.

She smirked and turned away from me. “I can imagine Titania wanting this girl in her Court,” she told Robin, completely ignoring me.

He grinned wickedly. “She already offered. And Abby turned her down.”

Mab quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I’m sure that went over well. Titania never could handle rejection.”

“No, she couldn’t. Plus, the girl has fire magick, so you know that Titania was jonesing for it.” Robin crossed his arms as he watched me.

That was it. My last trump card. I had hoped that I had one last secret here so that I could escape. Then again, where would I go if I did get out of here? Robin’s face was unreadable, and I twisted my head away from him. The betrayal between us was too great.

“Oh?” Mab asked, as she turned back to me. “Fire magick, you say? That’s a little dangerous in a Court made of ice and snow.”

“You better believe it,” I spat.

Mab turned back to Robin. “She’s a little hostile, isn’t she?”

“Like all mortals,” Robin agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got her magick on a tight leash. I told her it wouldn’t work on me. But…you know how humans are…”

“She tried turning it on you, didn’t she?” Mab asked. She clapped her hands, taking delight in my futile attempts to escape.

“Yeah,” Robin said. “Yeah.”

“So why are you offering her up to me, then?” Mab asked. “You’re Oberon’s pawn. You’re kind of siding with his enemy, aren’t you?”

Robin’s jaw tensed slightly before he shrugged off her comment. “I got tired of looking for that bogie. Life gets boring when you work for the same people. So I came to try to bury the hatchet, as they say.”

At the mention of the conflict between them, Mab’s eyes flashed angrily. “Yes, although it will take a lot to forgive you for what you did to my palace last time.”

Robin indicated the room we were in. “You certainly had a good architect to make it look much better.”

Her lips pressed into a fine line. “Quite.”

I picked up his cheeky insult to her old palace too. I was just too tired to point it out. After all, what good would it do? I was already screwed anyway.

At the thought of how tired I felt, I swayed on my feet, unable to contain it anymore. The movement caused Mab to glance back at me curiously.

“Apparently my mortal girl is feeling tired,” she mused.

She called me hers. I would’ve been sick again if I had anything left in my stomach. Her eyes glittered as she watched my exhaustion and pain, as if she could look directly through me and see that I was nearing the end of anything keeping me together. I was too tired to speak, too tired to stand.