Chapter 8: A Life of Slavery or Freedom?

Maeve addresses her subjects at length. She explains her justification for my enslavement in detail. Great emphasis is placed on the terms of my surrender to her on the shores of Eyllwe. To hear her talk, my humiliation and enslavement is not only lawful and just, but has been preordained by some unnamed deity. She goes on and on. Which suits me fine. My future isn’t going to depend on words. It’s going to depend on the subtle use of my wildfire.

Finally she allows me my turn to speak. I try my best to speak loudly through the constraints of the iron mask. Although the mask permits me to open my mouth, it restricts my ability to open it wide enough to talk loudly. Many of the audience will have difficulty hearing my words. Rowan requests that Maeve remove my mask, but she steadfastly refuses. Maeve insists that I am her slave until such time that I’m granted my freedom. If Maeve has her way, then that will be never. Her aggressive posture towards the gathering suggests any Fae who votes in my favour is likely to meet with an early and painful end. Some people mistakenly think Fae are immortal, but that isn’t the case. While Fae can measure their natural lifetimes in centuries while humans measure theirs in decades, both races are mortal.

I complete my speech. It’s not the most inspiring speech I’ve ever made, but I’m not trying to rule these Fae. All I simply want them to do is understand the truth and decide what is right. They listen and then they vote.

The result is soon apparent. Maeve looks at her audience in disbelief. The majority of the Fae present have voted for my release. The outcome of the vote is going to be the least of Maeve’s problems, although I doubt she realises it just yet. I’ve used tiny bits of my wildfire to weaken Maeve’s imposed beliefs on the Fae present. Their thoughts are their own for the first time in decades, and their attitude towards Maeve is far from friendly. When she made her speech, Maeve was assuming she was simply reinforcing their loyalty. Instead, her speech only strengthened her subjects’ new found determination to resist her. Unfortunately, my victory over Maeve will only be temporary. In time she will be able to regain her mental hold over all her subjects. But it will take time, and for now only Maeve and her closest acolytes remain a barrier to my freedom. A small but nonetheless formidable barrier.

“Release my wife from her chains,” demands Rowan of Maeve.

Maeve is still trying to work out what when wrong with such a simple plan. To her credit she recovers quickly. Her loyal retainers gather around her. These Fae need no imposed thoughts to remain loyal to their queen. Each has sworn a blood oath to Maeve. They will happily die if necessary in order to defend her from any enemy.

“I did not agree to be bound by the advice of my subjects,” snarls Maeve. “A Fae queen rules by divine authority. The opinion of her subjects is of no consequence.”

“Release Aelin, and we shall allow you to remain ruler here in Doranelle,” says Rowan. “Our only condition is that you send your army to add to those who are already fighting against Erawan.”

“You forget your place, Prince Rowan,” snaps Maeve, obviously confident that she can still win despite all her setbacks today.

She launches a magical attack directed at Rowan. He responds quickly before any real damage is done. But Maeve’s superior power will eventually break through his defences. The iron encasing me prevents me from using my own magical power ... except wildfire. Maeve knows I won’t stand idly by while Rowan is in peril. But I hold back my attack for a moment, and think. For some reason Maeve is trying to trick me into using the might of my wildfire in the presence of all her subjects. Would the sight of such awesome power intimidate her subjects into rallying behind their queen? Possibly. They wouldn’t willingly swap one all-powerful queen for another.

Again my night time practising inside my iron box pays dividends. I call on my wildfire as Maeve intends that I should, but not as an enormous blast of flame. Instead I create multi-coloured wisps of flame which flit about around Maeve’s face. Beautiful lights which are relatively harmless. Each flame last for only a few seconds before being replaced by another one of a different colour and intensity. The effect confuses Maeve into miscasting her magic. Rowan takes advantage of Maeve’s preoccupation and moves from defence to attack.

Maeve’s guards move to intervene, but a wave of heat from an invisible blast of my wildfire forces them to retreat. One of the guards realises that his queen is having more difficulty than she can confidently manage, and he steps forward to go to her aid. He pays for his brave but foolish act with severe burns to his body. He collapses onto the floor and one of his colleagues drags him clear.

“Surrender, Maeve,” demands Rowan. “Surrender and retain your crown.”

Maeve has become desperate. Against Rowan or I alone she could prevail, but not against both of us together. She must now realise that my control of wildfire is far more extensive than she thought possible. Too late she realises that my iron fetters don’t hinder my wildfire. She misunderstood the true nature of wildfire. Even I have only started to appreciate the complexities of its power. It’s far more than a blunt weapon of mass destruction. Both Maeve and I had initially made that false assumption. It’s fortunate for me that I was the first to realise our mutual mistake.

“Very well, Prince Rowan,” snarls Maeve. “I shall concede today’s battle to you. I surrender on condition that you honour my position as the rightful queen of the Fae.”

“Agreed. You are queen of Doranelle,” says Rowan. “Aelin is the rightful queen of those Fae living in Terrasen.”

Maeve still tries her trickery as Rowan and she negotiate the terms of peace. But Rowan is equal to the task. My freedom is a prerequisite, and Maeve reluctantly releases me from the terms of my surrender in Eyllwe. She orders Nisa to free me from my bondage. Nisa takes me back to the annex and proceeds to unlock my chains. It takes a while. The magical battle has made the locks stiff and Nisa spends most of the time with tears streaming down her face, clouding her vision. I want to ask her what is wrong, but I’m so keen to be free of these chains once more, that I don’t want to do anything to interrupt her painfully slow progress.

The iron mask is the last item to be removed. Nisa unfastens the small bolts which hold the mask in place. I take hold of the mask and admire it’s sinister artwork. No ... that’s not true. The artwork isn’t sinister. The intricate design is delicate and well crafted. It’s the purpose for which the mask has been used which was sinister. As a piece of art, the mask is beautiful. I briefly stop my examination of the mask to look at Nisa, who has now prostrated herself on the ground before me.

“What are you doing, Nisa?” I ask.

“Awaiting your judgement, Lady,” replies Nisa. “I only ask that you spare my mother, Noor.”

I haven’t seen Noor in weeks. Not since she stopped delivering my meals. To be honest I didn’t even think about her when she no longer appeared. I was preoccupied with other matters.