"Let it go, Fortunato. I'm leaving, with Father's blessing, and there's nothing you can do about it."

The roses nearest to him began to wither and turn grey until the very closest fell and disintegrated like leaves from burning wood.

Beside me, Rosalind hissed in pain, and I felt her power increase. "I haven't had access to my magic for a long time, Lady. I can't hold this."

“C’mon, cuz. You don’t want me here, and I’m just trying to leave. Let us pass.”

“You flout our laws and side with slaves over your own father. You don’t get to take them with you.”

I'm walking out of here, and you can't stop us." I took a few steps toward him, calling my magic as I did and feeling the magic of Fairy ignite at the touch of my living power. Magic flowed over us, accepting the power of my mother as easily as it did my Fae energy.

His guard stepped out in front of him, her long yellow braid flipping over her shoulder to hang almost to the floor in front of her. She drew a blade as long as my forearm, and I cursed silently.

“Put me down,” muttered a sleepy Penelope, and I did as she asked, glancing at Rosalind and pointing her over to the wall where my friend leaned “Hold her up, please?”

The pixie nodded, and thornless roses grew, bracing Penelope and coiling under her to create a throne of flowers for her. Newt scrambled into Pen's lap, and they vanished, drawing a gasp from me as I looked between the wall and Rosalind.

“Glamor is second nature to Newt. Our little ones don’t even need to think about it when they’re raised above-ground. She’s picking everything up so quickly.”

The abomination will be returned to the pit," Fortunato growled. His eyes were glowing, the pale light making them gleam with a sickly grey hue. I watched the glamor slip from his face, his ethereal beauty turning to decay, his face covered in open, oozing sores. "You will never claim the crown of the light court." He tightened his hand into a fist, and I felt my blood begin to slow, thickening in my veins like I was freezing from the inside out.

“Fairy is desperate for magic and you know it,” I argued, holding my power at bay, focused only on the opening behind my cousin. Outside, the garden called to me, flowers and trees waving in the sunshine, their roots a network of energy I could see under the earth. “My blood is as needed as any.”

“Your blood taints us.”

He jerked his hand back, and I fell to my knees, breaking my concentration. His magic tore into me like his fist was around my heart squeezing the life out of me.

With the barest thought, I called to all the plant life outside the door, to the pansies and morning glory and saplings waving in the sunny breeze. Fortunato released me, and I went to all fours on the floor, gasping for breath, as a chill raced up my spine, and the ancient scars of lashings I'd endured flamed to life all at once, just as the wild overgrowth of the garden entangled him and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had struck me.

Without hesitation, Rosalind guided Penelope to her feet and half-carried her out the door on her rose branches, Newt clinging to her neck and staring at me with her wide, alien eyes, silently urging me forward.

I waited until the overgrowth had completely taken over the wide entryway, tearing down the protective wards and glamor with the sheer power of living things. My heart still aching from my cousin's vise grip, my back itching and burning with painful memories, I slowly walked between the plants I'd called, and they parted for me to pass.

When I was abreast of Fortunato and his guard, both of them tangled and gagged by plants so they couldn’t cast or even curse at me, I paused and stared down into his eyes.

“Fairy let me beat you, cousin. Fairy herself blesses my magic and the tainted blood I have brought to renew and revitalize this place. If you attack me again, it will be war between us, and unlike you, I do not lose.”

I continued my careful pace out the door, praying he couldn’t feel my fear as I forced myself to face forward and not look back. He’d been my enemy from the start, and I knew better than to turn my back on him. just for the sake of being rude. But when you know the price will be paid no matter what you choose, sometimes being petty seems like a small reward for not killing someone.

Rosalind's magic failed her at the doors, and Penelope lay in a heap just outside, my two tagalongs standing over her with their little knives drawn.

“Woah, hey ladies, it’s just me. Fortunato is all tied up for the moment.” I hefted my friend into a standing position, one arm over my shoulder, and glanced at Newt. “Can you walk so Rosa can help me, little one?”

She stared all around at the sun and the trees, wide-eyed and timorous, but nodded and took hold of my jacket, her small fingers curling tightly around the leather as she craned her neck to look up at me.

Shit, I hope the car isn’t too much for them.

Once again the magic of Fairy came to my aid, and a carriage appeared out of the woods, drawn by four great alabaster stags.

“Hurry, get them in before the guards come after us,” Rosalind panted. “And all thanks to the king for the use of his carriage.”

The door in the side of the driverless carriage opened as we approached, Rosalind on one side of Pen, Newt and me on the other. She climbed in, and I lifted Pen, then Newt in behind her, before glancing back to the Manor doors, closed and quiet in the wake of the damage I must have done. But none of it showed the glamor of Fairy once again firmly in place.

And once more the rotting decay is hidden behind a lovely façade, for all to enjoy and forget the earth is about to fall away from their feet.

But my father had given me the chance to rescue what was mine from that place and had sent his own stags to spirit us away when he could have left me to my cousin's less than tender care. Despite the small, but bone-deep ache of residual magic, I felt victorious. Not because I'd managed to surprise my cousin, he would have gotten free and killed me if escape hadn't been so close.

The king of the Fae had warned me and gone on to assist me, knowing his own people might rebel against him for it.

I guess in the spectrum of hate or love, I’ll take a man who doesn’t know what to do with me, but still protects me against his own. It was more than my coven had ever done for me, and the Fae had done no worse than aunt Portia had.

The carriage jerked into motion, and the trees flashed past us as we flew through the forest, the path ahead opening magically for the stags as they took the straightest course to our destination. I sat in silence as little Newt chattered in her baby speak, Fortunato's disfigured face on my mind.

Penelope stirred slightly, and we all stared at her sleeping form.

“Okay, Rosalind, we will be joining the shifters shortly. When my work with them is done, I want you to tell me everything you know about the Unseelie Fae.”