I paced back and forth across the council room chambers, barely hearing the reports being given to me by the city’s administrators.

“You’re making people nervous,” Fred said, after the last messenger exited the room, leaving us alone.

“Blame your sister,” I muttered, throwing myself into the chair across from him with enough force that the wood creaked. I’d been almost to the gates when she’d stopped me in my tracks, leaving me to stare helplessly at the blizzard while she negotiated whatever disaster she’d stumbled upon. Or instigated.

It smacked of fey magic – powerful fey magic – and their involvement couldn’t be good. My uncle hadn’t provided the foretelling that had ultimately freed us out of the goodness of his heart – there was something in it for him. And if there were something in it for him, the Winter Queen would be doing her damnedest to counter him. The question was, and had always been, what did Summer have to gain from the curse being broken? And, conversely, what did Winter stand to lose?

“Cécile will have reasons for what she did,” Fred replied, interrupting my speculation before walking over to the illusion boxing Aiden away from the world. The man had been scratching and picking at my magic, and I wished Marie would hurry up with finding a place to lock him away. “She’ll probably even think they are good ones,” he added.

“I would have thought Sabine would temper her recklessness.”

Fred laughed as though my comment were ludicrous, then knocked a fist against the illusion. “What’s he doing in there?”

“A good question.” Marie stalked into the room. “And you might have more care, gentlemen. I should not like for our plan to fall apart because you were not mindful of who is listening.”

I’d spent the better part of my life being mindful about who was listening, but I let the comment slide. Blocking the doorway, I let the barrier holding Aiden turn transparent. And swore at what I saw.

My magic was streaked with blood and bits of fingernail; and though the tips of his fingers looked worn down to the bone, the wild-eyed Aiden continued to claw away, mouth open in muted screams.

“God in heaven, let him out,” Marie shrieked.

The second the barrier dropped, Marie flung herself at her son, but instead of welcoming her comfort, he snapped at her like some wild animal, a string of violent expletives streaming from his lips.

She recoiled, then rounded on me. “You said he’d be fine.”