Chapter Text
The witch shakes her head as she steps away from the artifact. “There is no repairing it,” she says solemnly.
The Queen's face falls as much as her poise will allow. Her daughter coils, tensely grabbing the hilt of her sword, glaring at the mouth of the silent cave.
“His power is close to waxing,” the Queen says, looking to the open sky above the secret gathering. “And this year his night will fall on a full moon. It cannot be coincidence.”
“The prison has held for millennia," the Princess argues. “A few hairline fractures won’t change that.”
“Still,” the witch murmurs, “it would be prudent to prepare. And to gather every shred of fae magic we can for the rites of Vore Tulley.”
The Queen stays quiet, considering. “It would create debts if we are not careful.”
The witch sighs, the customs and pride of fairies familiar to her yet nonetheless frustrating. “Most are already expected to appear. There are few that would need special attention. You are talented with reasoning, my Queen, surely you can find a way for the sake of holding the seal.”
The Princess crosses her arms. “I know who you’re thinking of, Saoirse. You haven’t met their kind. They’re wild and shifting and we are far from each other's favor.”
“I only ask you heed my counsel,” the witch implores, looking between the fairies. “I have seen the missives as much as you have from the west. Oberon is dead, the new King has intended a human girl. Surely you can use that development as more than enough reason to bring them here.”
As with whenever she provides a particularly good insight she hadn’t thought of before, the Queen gives Saoirse a small, admiring smile.
“Yes,” she says, trailing her fingers down the broken crystal, retracing the markings on its surface. “That will be perfect.”
“Mother,” the Princess stresses, unsaid complaints in her voice.
“It is for the best,” the Queen says, stepping away from the pedestal. “We have been apart from the other half of our magic for too long.”
The younger fae ducks her head, still upset, but not arguing further. The women walk away from the shrine, not feeling the feral growling simmering from within the cave.
Another crack spirals through the crystal.