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The Queen's Mercy

[Devona]

I morph into my raven form. On my breast, a handful of singed feathers are still smoldering. I send a small bit of energy into my chest, but the damage does not repair itself. I am unable to alter my form.

Fuck, as the humans say.

I cannot return to court like this. The Queen would not approve. And nobody wants to anger the Queen. Also, if she didn’t already know, this would confirm the truth.

Her powers are awakening.

If I hurry, I might still find a way to convince the queen she is no threat, just a small elf-touched girl with no promise of being queen.

At the height of my power, I could slip in between realities as easily as taking off a cloak. Now I needed to travel through a Way, like an elf-struck mortal drunk on too much Faerie wine. When the future Queen of Night was killed before her time, her death was pinned on me. I was stripped of most of my power, and it is only by the “mercy” of the queen in her “generosity” that I have regained the ability to take original
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