“Did you hear? Your master will be here soon. He’s expecting his passage to Earth,” the royal elf said. “But this, all this, is what you’ve accomplished. Historic work, by the way. The Home Tree has never been attacked, never been harmed, not so much as a leaf plucked or a twig snapped in the entirety of the Summer Court’s history… till now. My arborists are surveying the damage, but I can already tell by their body language that none of them have good news for me. They should have reported a half hour ago, but their reluctance writes complete volumes of information, if you are skilled in reading them. I considered punishing them, but you have done that more effectively than I ever could. This tree is their entire existence. Look what you’ve done to it.”

“Looks like they have much to do,” Lilith said, her own temper rising despite her pain—or maybe because of it. “Good job security in having lots of work, as the humans would say,” she said, coughing up black sputum from somewhere deep inside her.

Zinnia’s cold countenance now looked like a thundercloud, dark, dangerous, and ready to commit violence.

“You—you dare to mock all of this?” the queen said, sitting upright and reaching for a crystal bow propped close to hand.

“Shoot me, elf queen. Put me out of my pain and declare war on Hell,” Lilith said, attempting to move. She got one arm and hand under her and pushed up, clenching her massive jaws at the exquisite new levels of agony that this brought her.

Zinnia was still moving the bow around, but her other hand froze in the middle of touching a green and black arrow in the bristling quiver next to her.

“That’s right, isn’t it? Death would be a mercy. Your liege will not be so kind, I imagine,” Zinnia hissed.

Shouts and activity to the side of their little drama, in about the center of the room, almost made Lilith look, but instead she held as steady as she could, eyes fastened on the queen’s. Eirwen, the Summer Princess, did, however, look at the center of the ruined chamber, and the flash of unease, coupled with the sudden dimming of light, told Lilith all she needed about what was happening. Her lord’s voice was the next sound she heard, as it grated through the room like Death itself.

“WHAT IS THIS?” he rumbled.

“This is the folly of partnering with Hell,” Zinnia said, turning her eyes to Prince Belphagor.

“Why is my agent lying wounded and unattended upon your floor?” he asked, voice now just a moderate thunderclap.

“She failed in your mission and led the enemy straight to the heart of our nation,” Zinnia said.

“Duchess, explain yourself,” he commanded.