“What care we for the troubles of Lucifer?” Oberon sneered.

“You don’t have to care,” I said impatiently. “But if someone takes a swing at me, I’m going to swing back. Amarantha tried me, and she lost. Don’t make the same mistake.”

“You have killed our champion, entered our kingdom without leave and insulted us before our court. We cannot allow that to pass,” Oberon said.

“You should,” I said steadily. “You really should.”

“You will face a trial by combat for your crimes,” Oberon said, standing from his throne.

“I am not a member of your court,” I said. “You do not dictate to me.”

“Watch yourself, Lucifer’s spawn,” Oberon hissed. “I have not yet shown you the full extent of my powers. I could wipe you from the face of the earth without blinking.”

“Then do it,” I challenged. “I don’t think you’ve got all that much, to be honest.”

“I am king. I do not engage with the lower classes,” Oberon said, moving to sit again.

“Coward,” I said.

His eyes narrowed. They were bright green, the color of a new spring leaf glistening with dew.

“I am no coward,” Oberon said.

Titania laid a hand on his arm. “Do not let her incite you.”

The king shook the queen’s hand away impatiently. “She has insulted me for the last time.”

I stepped back, the sword gripped loosely in my right hand, and gave him a challenging look. “Come and get me, then, coward.”

All around us the faerie court was murmuring, but I was barely aware of them. I saw only Oberon. I needed to get him to engage, to make a mistake.

And then I would finish this.

“Very well,” Oberon said, removing his crown. “We will engage in a trial by combat. No magic. Physical weapons only.”

“And when you lose, you will call off your plans for vengeance. No faerie or creature under your command will pursue me or mine any longer. The blood price will be negated. Oh, and you will allow Nathaniel, Beezle and myself safe passage home.”

“And when you lose, Madeline Black, you will have your guts torn from you before the entire court of Faerie,” Oberon said.

“Why does everyone always want my guts?” I asked. “Fine, I agree to your terms if you agree to mine.”

Oberon nodded.

“No,” I said. “I want to hear you say that you agree to my terms.”

I wasn’t stupid. Faeries love loopholes.

“I agree to your terms,” Oberon said after a long silence.

“And you, too,” I said to Titania.

“Disrespectful child,” Titania said. “Foolish child. You do not know that which you meddle in.”

“Do you agree or not?”

“I agree to your terms,” Titania said, her eyes hard as flint. She stood from her throne and clapped her hands. “The trial shall begin in ten minutes. Combatants, you may prepare yourselves.”

Oberon and Titania went into an immediate huddle. The courtiers weren’t even bothering to hide their shock and amazement. The room was abuzz with talk.

I deliberately turned my back on the king and queen, letting them know that I wasn’t afraid. Nathaniel and Beezle waited for me in the middle of the court, both of them looking resigned.

Nathaniel tugged me toward an empty corner of the room. The faeries gave us a wide berth. I didn’t know if it was because they were scared of me or because I was covered in blood. Probably a little of both.

“Is this what you intended all along?” Nathaniel said in a low voice. “To provoke Oberon into a fight?”

“No. I was just kind of going with what felt right at the moment,” I said. “Oberon is a weak link. His pride is touchy, probably because of the heir question.”

“Please do not say such a thing any louder,” Nathaniel said. “Do not give them another reason to come after you.”

“They’re not going to come for me after today,” I said. “I’m going to finish this.”

“If you beat Oberon, then what?” Beezle whispered. “Remember what we were talking about at breakfast? If you kill him, there will be magical repercussions.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, a little of my righteous anger deflating. I wasn’t interested in causing the magical equivalent of a nuclear explosion. “Well, I won’t kill him.”

“So you will defeat him and leave him humiliated before his court?” Nathaniel asked.

“That works for me,” I said.

Beezle shook his head. “You have to completely neutralize him or this will never end.”

“Look, stop worrying about the endgame,” I said. “Just tell me how I can beat him. I’m not allowed to use magic.”

“You should be,” said another voice, and we all turned to see who was eavesdropping on us.

A youngish male faerie stood there. He was handsome in an impish way, and had black hair and merry blue eyes.

“I should be what?” I asked.

“Permitted to use magic,” the faerie said. “Lord Oberon uses magic to maintain his appearance, and he won’t show his true face even during combat.”

“I’m sure that they’ll claim that a faerie’s glamour is not the same as using power for destruction, blah-de-blah,” I said. “It’s probably not worth the argument. Who are you, anyway?”