Maeve crackled with power. A cold glow rose off her skin, a blue flame burning bright with power. Daigh stiffened in her arms as she pressed her hand to his temples and blasted his mind with her pain. She screamed, he screamed, and the whole of the underworld groaned under their collective agony.

My breath caught in my throat. My legs froze in place. I didn’t know what to do, what I wanted Maeve to do. I wanted to see Daigh suffer as much as she did, but was this the way? Was this the right way?

Maeve’s eyes fluttered open and her body went slack. She tore her hand from Daigh’s temple. The air whispered as her magic snapped from his mind. She stepped back. Daigh wobbled on his feet, steadying himself against the steps.

“Sorry, father,” Maeve said, staring down at the blue light glowing around her hands. “I never was very good at listening to my parents. I don’t want to kill you. I think we should talk.”

Relief flooded me, followed by a nervous clamor. Even after everything Daigh had done, Maeve didn’t want to kill him. She’d chosen the path of righteousness, as Matthew Crawford might’ve said. But it was not the easy path. We still had to deal with Daigh.

What good will come of talking to Daigh? Everything he says is a lie.

Maeve flicked her gaze to me for a moment, and the flicker of a voice echoed in my head. A voice that wasn’t my own.

Corbin, get the crown.

I gaped at her. How had she sent her voice into my head? She shouldn’t be able to do that with a non-spirit witch. That was interesting. Were her powers somehow growing—

The crown. It’s what he meant when he said there’s no king to kill. That demon wasn’t the king, it was a guard or something. The crown is the source of all their power. I’ll distract him, and you’ve got to get it off him.

My eyes locked on Daigh’s crown, and I immediately grasped Maeve’s thinking. The bone crown on Daigh’s head glowed with a similar blue light to the one that surrounded Maeve. Some of her power had been drawn into it, like a corruption of Flynn’s witch statue collecting the magic of belief.

In this world of darkness, the blue aura was a way for the demons to discern the shades of witches. It would also help them to keep any visiting fae in check. The demon blood on my face was making me see it as a demon would. But the thing Maeve had to have noticed was that only the crown glowed – no other part of Daigh’s body shared the aura.

Daigh wasn’t fully demon, not yet. He still had little power of his own. He streamed it from the crown. If we could get that crown off his head, then he’d be powerless.

“I want to talk about you and me,” Maeve started, folding her arms. “I got the DNA test results back, and you were right – I am your daughter. It’s all very strange, because the binding has made my DNA completely different from any other human.”

I crept across the bridge to where Maeve stood, moving slowly and smoothly, as if my whole purpose was to stand near Maeve. Our fingers touched, and Maeve’s magic sparked a memory across my mind.

It was Maeve and Rowan and I in the seedy hotel room in London, our bodies wrapped together in the heat of our love.

Daigh’s eyes glittered at Maeve. “There you are, you see? Your earth science has proven what I already knew – you are mine, daughter, and you are special. The fae have been wrong to forbid bindings. You are the strongest witch of your age. What you did to me just now would have killed a mortal. It’s fortunate I’m no longer a mortal.”

“Indeed,” Maeve tapped her chin. “It seems I’ve been completely wrong about magic. It’s written into our DNA. It’s scientifically observable and—”

I slid off to the side and crept around the dais. Daigh’s eyes didn’t leave Maeve’s face as she waxed on about the awesome power of DNA. It was quite a speech, delivered in her best “schoolteacher” voice, the one that Flynn thought was the sexiest sound alive.

At the back of the throne, the steps were so narrow there was only enough room for the toes of my boots. I stepped up on to the stairs and peered around the side. Daigh didn’t seem to have noticed me, but he’d moved back up to settle on top of the throne. That meant I’d have to climb all the way to the top.

I swung my leg up and balanced precariously on the next shelf. Even though I was a shade or something, my muscles screamed with the effort. Heat rose from the fire, burning a good twenty feet beneath me. I stretched with my hand and gripped the edge of the next step.

Almost there. Just keep him distracted a moment longer, Maeve. I’ve almost got him!