Glow Down the Clash: The Nine Curses of Queen Mab, #3

By Cleo Cassidy

Thorne and Astra's journey reaches its heart-pumping conclusion with this gripping and thrilling finale.

 

Oh! The curse is strong, old, and deep, but she has promises to keep.

 

In a world hanging in the balance, Astra lost it all—her home, her parents, and her trust in Thorne.

 

With Ryland ready to enslave her people and her magic acting out, Astra has no choice but to put her faith in the very person who betrayed her.

 

As she trains with Thorne, time ticks away and decisions are made. Their attempt to storm the Sky Palace ends in tragedy, amplifying the stakes for Astra's next move.

 

Because Ryland is searching for something in the mortal world, and Astra plans to reach it first.

 

Suddenly, the old battle becomes insignificant. For a greater evil resurfaces and Thorne goes missing, leaving Astra on the brink of losing the one thing that truly matters.

 

Will she summon the strength to fight one last time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cleo Cassidy
• Release date: Oct 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223231455

Book preview

Chapter One

Dark and sturdy beams support the vaulted ceiling. From somewhere outside, the thrashing of the sea and the cries of birds echo back to me. With a deep breath, I become aware of the throbbing in my head and the fire in my thigh.

Something stirs in the room, up ahead. I turn my head and meet Thorne’s wide eyes. He abandons the chair pushed next to the bed and crouches over me.

You are awake.

My eyes trace over his features, taking in the bunched eyebrows and thinned lips, reading the desperation and the relief in his gaze. I blink once, then my brows furrow.

I remember.

Thorne sighs and straightens. With arms linked behind his back, he turns and stomps a few feet away. Then stops and swivels in my direction, marching to the foot of the bed.

We are in the Undersea Court, he says. His left hand flops toward the tiny window that is propped open, letting in the briny breeze. You have been unconscious for the past two days. No matter how hard I tried, I could not wake you.

The end of his sentence grows strangled. He clears his throat and swallows. My eyes return to the open window, track the ray of sunshine sweeping across the wooden floor.

There has been nothing from Ryland, not since he… passed into your world.

My fingers curl above the pristine sheet covering the lower half of my body. Underneath, my injury gives a throb. Thorne approaches the bed and makes to take a seat on the edge, but gives up halfway and chooses the chair. I watch his fingers grip the armrest. The wood creaks.

The Fairy King holed up in the Sky Palace with the rest of his allies. We posted various scouts around the location. So far, no one got in or out.

My vision blurs for a beat. I bring my hand to the back of my head, find a knot. My fingers graze over the area, and I hiss. This must be from when Ryland threw me into the forest and my head hit something hard.

Kharis found you lying there, near the portal. Brought you to me. I had our best healers work on you, they said they did all that they could, that the rest depended on you, but— He stops and inhales sharply. They were afraid your mortal body could not withstand more Fae magic. I told them you are different, strong. But their minds were made up.

I cannot glimpse the sea through the window, only the clear blue skies and one side of the cliff, but I can hear it. Waves break against the unyielding surface of the rocks in quick succession. The wind picks up, pushing more air into the room. I shiver and lick my cracked lips.

Thorne gets up and closes the window. Then strides to the small stand beside the bed and pours me a cup of water from a porcelain pitcher.

I struggle to get up, batting away Thorne’s hands when he hurries to help. With a sigh, I collapse against the headboard. Thorne grumbles and props some pillows at my back. I ignore him and grab the glass of water, bring it to my lips.

After, I clear my throat and return the empty glass to the nightstand. With the window closed, the room is as silent as a tomb. Thorne sighs and marches to the other end of the room. His fingers spear through his raven hair, pulling taut, scrunching. My gaze returns to the ray of sunshine bobbing along the floor.

Say something, he says, almost begging. His boots slide into view. Astra.

My teeth sink into my lower lip. My pulse picks up and my palms grow clammy. It’s as if my injuries no longer hurt, the pain replaced by the ache from inside.

I take a deep breath and lift my gaze to Thorne’s face. I must be wearing my heart on my sleeve, for his nostrils flare.

Tell me, Thorne. How did you remove Ryland’s mark?

Time stretches slowly between us. He stands close enough to touch and yet… he seems farther away than ever. His jaw clenches and his eyes fall shut. And I know.

I know what Ryland has said is true. It’s always been true.

Tell me.

I say the words, yet it’s not my voice. It’s someone else’s, far braver and indifferent. The voice of someone who has had enough.

Thorne’s entire demeanor changes. His expression turns pleading. His fingers grope for my hand. I move it away from his grasp.

Astra, please… It is not what you think.

How did you remove Ryland’s mark?

He shakes his head. It is complicated, but if you stopped for a moment and listened—

How?

—to what I have to say, I am sure you will understand. Ryland’s mark is… No, wait. The marking is an ancient Fae custom, the magic—

Enough!

I push to a seating position, swing my legs around, stand. My thigh throbs and my legs tremble, but I remain upright.

What are you doing? He stands up as well and reaches for me, but I step back. Get back to bed.

Tell me, I say through gritted teeth.

His mouth snaps shut, and he swallows. His eyes have grown huge and he cannot stop staring at me.

Fine.

I hobble to the end of the bed and glance around for some clothes. I’m wearing only an oversized tunic. The hem stops at the bandage wrapped around my thigh.

I find a robe draped across the back of a chair beside the door. I hurry in that direction and cast it around my shoulders. It bears Thorne’s scent and the folds almost swallow me whole, but I tie it at the waist and turn to the door.

I had to.

At Thorne’s voice, my hand freezes on the door’s handle. What?

Astra, please. Look at me.

I don’t want to. My shoulders drop and I drag in a choppy breath. Slowly, I turn around. Cross my arms over my chest. My gaze glues itself to the side of his neck.

I had to. It was the only way—

Say it.

Astra…

Say. It.

My glare meets his eyes, and I lift my chin. He is ten feet away, silver eyes fastened to me and chest heaving. His mouth opens and closes. He sighs.

I had to place my mark to cancel Ryland’s.

And there it is.

It was the only way. And I chose not to tell you because I knew you would refuse.

So you lied to me.

I was going to tell you, but then… everything happened.

Stop finding excuses.

I turn and find my way barred by a wall of impenetrable shadows. I growl and my magic sings in my veins, gathers in the tips of my fingers.

Astra, please. He was going to track you through that mark. Hurt you. All our efforts would have been… There was no other option.

You had no right to decide for me, I say, my back still turned.

A pause, then, And I truly regret my actions, but…

But nothing. You lied to me. It’s all been a lie.

It cleaves me in two to say this, but I asked for the truth. Thorne’s fingers curl around my shoulders. I try to shrug him off and his grip turns desperate.

No, he says. You are wrong. Please, Astra, look at me.

You said we are a team. Yet you’ve been lying to me from the start.

We are nothing. And have nothing. How could I’ve been so stupid?

No, Astra. We are a team. Please, wait—

So, out of everyone, Ryland was the only one telling the truth. He’s been honest in his cruelty.

Thorne’s fingers sink into my shoulder. That is because he does not care if he hurts you.

My laugh is bitter. The truth can’t hurt me. And even if it does, I’ll always choose to know.

I finally pull away from Thorne and then my golden tendrils punch through his shadows, creating an opening in the solid wall in front of me. They curl into themselves and are slow to retreat, clinging to me when I pass through.

Astra!

I throw open the door and step outside. Stay away from me. I mean it, Thorne. Just stay away from me!

Chapter Two

For the first few steps, I stumble. I get to the first corner and slip, but catch myself in time to avoid a tumble to the ground. I keep going. There’s no other way. Thorne could exit the room any minute, reach me in an instant.

The corridor stretches ahead of me, tall and wide. Round cuts decorate the rock-hewn walls, offering glimpses of the sea outside and the distant cliffs rising from the waves. The wind whistles through the cracks, whispering secrets carried from throughout Fairy.

My eyes are watering because of the strong draft, and not because of…

I shy away from the thought, the feeling. With a shake of my head, I swallow past the knot in my throat. I drop my gaze to my bare feet, counting the steps I make on the cold marble.

At the end of the long hallway, I meet the first Undersea Fae. The man is wearing only a pair of breeches that stop at his ankles, his chest and arms covered in iridescent scales. He stops and stares at the mad girl hobbling along the wall.

Good day, I say with a baring of teeth.

The Fae turns on his heels and follows my progress with wide eyes. I turn left and carry on, the hem of Thorne’s robe trailing behind me.

A few steps later, I encounter a short flight of stairs going down. I grind my teeth and descend, cursing Ryland with each step.

I reach the landing and almost collide with another Fae coming up. I glance down and shake my head. Can’t handle more stairs. My thigh is throbbing.

I turn away and start down the corridor that opens on the other side of the landing, this one narrower and darker.

Mortal, where are you going? the Fae asks at my back.

I don’t know. I have no clear destination, other than somewhere far away from Thorne.

A bend pops up ahead, the corridor following the natural shape of the cliff, but just before it, the wall opens on a small balcony. I stagger to the stone bench and drop with a sigh.

I stretch my injured leg in front of me and reach under the robe. I rub my thigh and the bandage becomes undone. Wonderful. With a grumble, I push the robe out of the way and unwrap it before it could fall off all the way.

What the…

Under the bandage, I find only smooth skin. I blink at my pale flesh, then at the long strip in my hand. What was the purpose of the dressing if there’s no wound?

I trace the tips of my fingers down the skin, my injury giving a sharp twinge at the touch. It hurts on the inside, while the outside is pristine. I snort.

Typical Fae, to hide away all imperfections.

I close my eyes and drop my head back on my shoulders. After a moment, I get up and limp down the corridor, following the bend. My body is demanding constant movement even if it hurts.

A trio of naiads barrel through one door lining the walls, giggling and whispering among each other. They stop when they see me.

It makes me sigh. I wish people would stop staring.

Are you alright? one of them asks, stepping closer. She has pale green hair and a soft smile.

Sure. I shove my disheveled curls away from my face and try for a smile. I’m fine.

I shuffle another step, passing the group. Their heads turn in unison, tracking my progress. I clear my throat and limp forward.

Where are you going?

Do you need help? another asks at the same time.

If you’re looking for the other mortal, you’re going in the wrong direction, the third one says.

I freeze and swivel on my heels. What other mortal?

The short one with the freckles, the naiad says, tilting her head. The sea shells braided through her hair clink with the motion.

I blink. Keir. He’s here—

But of course he is. Kharis brought him here to heal him, didn’t he?

Can you take me to him? I ask the Fae.

She shares a glance with the others and shrugs. Come on.

The green-haired naiad approaches and offers me her elbow. I hesitate, but then place my hand on her willowy limb. She grins at me.

I like your dress.

I glance down at the sleek fabric embroidered with silver stars and grunt. It’s a robe.

I like your robe.

Thanks, I guess. I’m not sure whether she’s making fun of me.

The two other naiads surround us, one on each side. We begin walking.

You should pick a smaller size next time, the one with the shells in her hair says.

Mortals have such a weird way of dressing, the third adds.

I clear my throat and focus on the path ahead. The soles of my feet slap against the marble as we proceed. We reach the landing and cross it.

You’re with the Shadow Prince, right? the girl beside me asks.

The knot in my throat doubles in size. I swallow and shake my head. No, I’m not.

There’s a long moment of silence. My jaw clenches and my eyes burn.

I saw you fighting on the beach a couple of days ago. You brought down that Sky Fae.

I blink and glance at the naiad shuffling beside me, meet her moss-green eyes. Right.

I saw you in the games, the one next to her says. With the shriekers and then the bonecruncher… She releases a giggle. Smart of you to go after its tail.

My betrothed fought a bonecruncher, the other says.

The green-haired naiad groans. Not again.

He did not!

He did too!

Did not!

Did too!

He just likes to brag. Everyone knows it.

You take that back!

Why? It’s the truth.

Ladies… the green-haired Fae says.

My lips twitch.

How could a mere merman win against a bonecruncher? Do you hear yourself?

This mortal did, the one with the shelled braids says.

She had a sword!

He was armed. And had magic!

And she has two legs.

He has legs! Sometimes.

In the story, he said he met the bonecruncher at the southern caves. Bonecrunchers avoid salt water. Everyone knows it.

No. Everyone does not know it, you—

Here we are, the green-haired naiad says, cutting her friend off.

We stop in front of a set of tall wooden doors. I inhale and release her arm, stepping to the side.

Thank you.

You are welcome. Just ask for Nadine the next time you need help, she says.

I will, thanks.

The naiads wave and depart in the same manner they’ve arrived—in a fit of giggles and furious whispers. From the sound of it, their silly argument restarted.

I turn on my heels and knock. At Keir’s voice, I open the door and slip through the crack.

He’s in front of a wide window, lounging on a squat settee. The book he’s holding falls to his lap, its cover glittering in the sunlight. Briefly, I register the title promising a comprehensive history of the Fairy Queen’s reign.

He gapes at me. The sob that’s been building in my throat finally gets out. I hurry to him, arms outstretched. He returns my embrace, pulling me down beside him. His palm slides down the back of my head, over and over again.

Astra… What’s wrong?

I lift my head from his shoulder and wipe my tears with brisk movements. I sniff and study him. The cuts on his face healed, the bruises faded. Only a bandage lingers on the side of his neck, with another one peeking out of the sleeve of his tunic.

You look much better, I tell him. Then I hug him once more. I’m so happy to see you!

You don’t. You look like a crazy person, Keir says, his voice muffled by my hair.

I lean back and sigh. I know.

And what are you wearing?

A robe. Thorne’s, I presume. Can I borrow some clothes from you?

I’ll get you some in a moment. What happened? Why are you crying?

Ah.

I turn and get up, pacing away from him. For the first time, I notice the room we are in. An enormous bed placed on a raised platform faces the window, fishing nets and strings of pearls dangling from the canopy.

Wow, I say. Nice bed.

Keir clears his throat. Yeah.

A golden trident sits mounted above the fireplace on the opposite wall, catching the sunlight. Then, my gaze falls on the clothes strewn along the floor, not all of them in Keir’s size. I bend and pick up an embroidered tunic.

Um…

Keir snatches it from my hand and throws it on the couch in front of the fireplace. That’s not mine.

My lips twitch. Whose is it?

He ducks his head and blushes.

My gods. Keir… Is this Kharis’ room?

Shut up.

I chortle. Seriously, are you sharing a room with him?

He insisted.

I bet.

Shut up!

And I lose it. I laugh so hard, my stomach cramps. Keir glowers at me and crosses his arms over his chest.

You were crying a minute ago. You don’t just look like a crazy person, you act like one.

That sobers me up. Keir winces and rubs his forehead.

I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry, Astra. That was unkind. I don’t know why I said that.

I pat his shoulder. Never apologize for the truth.

I turn and drift to the fireplace, stretching my hands toward the bumbling flames within. Keir joins me a moment later.

Will you tell me what happened? he asks, handing me a pair of pants.

Only if you promise to return the favor. I take the pants from him and put them on, shrugging out of the heavy robe after.

Gods, no. What happened to me is the last thing I wish to talk about.

Keir…

Tell me first and we’ll see.

He lied to me. Again.

Thorne?

I nod. He placed his mark on me and didn’t tell me—

My mouth snaps shut. Keir must not understand what I’m talking about. He wasn’t there.

We’ve been apart for too long, I say.

Keir takes my hand and brings me to the sofa in front of the fireplace, telling me to take a seat. He drops beside me and swings his arm over my shoulders. And I’ve missed you. Start from the beginning.

I do. I tell him about the bargain with Ryland, about the mark he placed on me, and the time I was forced to spend at his side. I tell him everything, leave nothing out. Especially my failures.

Out of everyone, Ryland was the only one telling the truth, I say, finishing my account with a repeat of what I told Thorne less than an hour ago.

I believe his intentions were good. He was protecting you, Keir says. He is talking about Thorne.

That’s not the point.

I know.

We’re silent for a long moment.

I lost, Keir.

He grips my chin and forces me to look at him. I do not believe that for a second. It might seem like you did, but I know you’ll bounce back. I believe in you, Astra. You just need to learn to believe in yourself, too.

I curl my fingers around his wrist and squeeze. He releases my chin and drops his forehead to mine.

I really, really missed you.

He chuckles. Stop sending me away then.

I close my eyes and sigh. Promise I’ll try.

You can’t protect me forever.

I point at a bruise on his temple. Clearly. I swallow. Do you want to talk about it?

Keir grimaces. No. Plus, there’s nothing to talk about. The Iskaans grabbed me, brought me to the palace. Kept me locked up in the dungeons.

Keir…

That’s it, the entire story.

There is more—

That’s it, I’m telling you. They sent some big brute every now and again to rough me up so I’d talk, but he didn’t scare me.

I remember Keir’s condition when we found him. He was barely conscious. But if downplaying the events is what he needs right now…

Just tell me one more thing, Keir. Are you alright now?

His eyes fall shut, and he sighs. I promise I am.

The door opens and we jolt apart.

Keir? I was thinking maybe we— Kharis strides into the room, the door snapping shut behind him. Oh.

I get up and clear my throat. Kharis.

I didn’t know you were awake, he says. A grin unfolds over the lower part of his face, which I don’t return. Hi, Astra.

Hi. I turn to Keir. I’ll see you later.

Wait, where are you going? Kharis steps into my path. You should be resting.

I almost run to the door. I’m fine.

Astra—

Just let her go, Kharis.

I open the door and throw Keir a grateful glance over my shoulder. He nods at me.

But…

Stop, Kharis. Trust me. Let her go.

The door closes behind me, muffling Kharis’ reply. Outside in the corridor, I pause and glance around. With a sigh, I pick a direction and start walking.

Chapter Three

I’m a wraith moving through the winding corridors of the Undersea Court. Now that I’ve abandoned the robe and tidied up my appearance, I no longer garner horrified stares. But being one half of the duo of mortals here, I still get some sly glances and whispers.

My hand brushes my hip for the millionth time. I feel naked without Phoenix dangling from the scabbard. With a sigh, I trudge down another corridor, driven by my irrational need to move. To run away from Thorne and my feelings and my troubles.

My thigh pulses with each step, the pain worsening the more I keep walking. I pass through a tall arch and into the throne room. My steps falter for a moment, giving the Fae gathered in small clumps along the walls plenty of time to notice me and start hissing warnings to each other.

Instead of turning around and fleeing, I raise my chin and stride to the other end of the room. Another exit slides into view and I quicken my pace, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

Then I walk until I find a quieter place in the bustling corridor and stop, lean against the wall. I rub my palm over my thigh and close my eyes. I pry them open at a seagull’s cry echoing through the open window across the hallway.

From my periphery, I spy a flash of raven hair and my breath hitches. But it’s only an unfamiliar Undersea Fae moving toward the throne room, arms laden with bouquets and garlands of flowers.

I press my palm to my chest and swallow. What is wrong with me? I try to draw a deep breath and fail.

Godsdamnit. Since when does the possibility of seeing Thorne send me into fits of anxiety? My stomach roils and acid climbs the column of my throat.

I cannot breathe. I need to get out of here.

But I’m so much deeper inside the Undersea Court than ever before. I curse myself for not paying closer attention the last time I’ve been here.

I turn my head and glance down the corridor. I walk, eyes roving over the surroundings and trying to pick up a marker or two.

At the end of the corridor, I make my way into a more confined, shorter space. The walls change, transitioning from smooth paneling to hewn rock, which makes me think I’m on the right path.

A split comes into view and I catch a whiff of fresh air coming from one of the tunnels. I limp there faster, my spirits lifting. The tunnel narrows after a bend and grows darker, the will-o’-the-wisps bobbing along the ceiling becoming scarcer.

I round a bend and curse, shielding my eyes against the glare spilling from within a slit in the rocky wall. Once they adjust, I step through and halt.

I’m on a ledge several feet above the frothing, roiling sea. The wind lashes out, battering me from all sides and whipping my hair across my face. I shiver and retreat closer to the stone wall.

A clink draws my attention. It’s coming from the row of Fae chipping away at the seaweed and barnacles clinging to the outer wall.

My eyes widen and my breath stops once more. Because these immortals are Sky Fae. My gaze jumps from one set of wings to another. And then I find a familiar pair.

I stumble two steps forward and yell Hagen’s name. His head whips in my direction, mouth growing slack. I can’t believe it. I start to pick my way toward him, but he signals me to stay put. He drops his tools and jogs toward me.

What are you doing here? I ask as soon as he’s in earshot.

He stops in front of me and extends his arms. I step into them and return the hug. After a moment, I lift my head from his shoulder and smile.

Hi, I say.

He blinks and retreats, studying me. You seem whole. Why are you limping?

I sigh and pat my thigh, right over the injury. Because Ryland burrowed a knife in my flesh.

What? Hagen frowns. When?

A few days ago. I return his frown. I could’ve used an ally, someone to keep tabs on Ryland. Why aren’t you with him in the mortal world? What are you doing here?

I glance at the group of Sky Fae. Some are watching our exchange, but most of them keep working. My eyes slide back to Hagen, search his expression.

What’s going on?

Hagen shrugs. Nothing. We’re cleaning and repairing the wall where the sea has carved into it.

I can see that. But why? You and the Undersea Court are enemies.

Things are never so simple—

Hagen.

He sighs. They’ve captured some of us during the fighting, brought us here.

My heart skips a beat and my jaw clenches. But wait… The rot in here has nothing to do with the Clusters draining away your magic.

Astra, it’s fine.

No.