About the Book
Title: THE LAST FAERIE QUEEN
Author: Chelsea Pitcher
Release Date: November 8, 2015
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Find It: Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble
A FAERIE REVOLUTION . . .
After risking her life in the mortal world, the faerie princess Elora returns home to incite a revolution. Allied with the Bright Queen, Elora rallies her people for a battle aimed at overthrowing her mother, the Dark Queen. While some question their ability to win, Elora senses victory, knowing she has a secret weapon: Taylor, the human boy she loves, and a motley crew of his school friends, each armed with a skill that can turn the tide of the coming battle.
A MORTAL SACRIFICE . . .
But then Elora's supporters in the Dark Court turn on her, believing she has forsaken them in favor of humans. When the Dark Queen kidnaps two of her human friends, Elora must mount a daring rescue mission to free them before her mother offers them up as a sacrifice.
Chelsea Pitcher is a karaoke-singing, ocean-worshipping Oregonian with a penchant for wicked faerie tales. She began gobbling up stories as soon as she could read, and especially enjoys delving into the darker places to see if she can draw out some light. She is the author of THE S-WORD (Simon and Schuster), THE LAST CHANGELING (Flux), and THE LAST FAERIE QUEEN (Flux 2015).
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Still, if the occasion called for it, we might be inclined to climb out of the earth with grasping hands, and use our collective power to cover the lands in pleasant darkness for one night. Our strength would be depleted in the morning, with or without the dancing, with or without the drink. But for one glorious night, we would revel in the blackness, in the sky so beautiful a person could disappear into it.
I stood at the topmost tower of the Unseelie Castle, watching the darkness unfold. Down below, at the back of the castle, the mountain jutted out into a near perfect circle, and there, in the center, was my mother.
Perhaps she was drawing on the strength of her courtiers. Perhaps the darkness of the court just responded to her. But here, from a distance, it seemed as if all the darkness in the world existed inside her body, and she was letting it out.
Black tendrils leaked out of her, circling and trickling and expanding to cover the world. Soon that darkness skittered over the grounds, covering the dirt and the snow like a low-hanging fog. Soon that wicked sun was blotted out.
I stood, staring down at my mother, my body filled with fear and awe. She was so powerful; how could I defeat her? She was so beautiful; how could I betray her? All the parts of me— dark and light, cruel and kind—converged and surged within me, and I felt, for the first time, that only a part of me would survive.
Oh, Lady, I thought as she finished her wicked work and turned to face me. Perhaps she knew I’d been there the whole time. The smile on her face stretched to terrible heights, and suddenly I felt the sensation of falling, of being pulled. If she’d sacrifice the humans, would she sacrifice her daughter for loving them as well?
I would know the answer by the end of this night.
But first, the celebration. My mother lifted a great, gnarled staff and pounded it into the earth. Her signal for the Unseelie beasties to rise.
And rise they did. They crawled, like dead things, out of the earth, dressed in their finest. Torn velvet, with fraying ropes around their necks. Mortal-decadence-meets-sex-and-death. Everything would be blood and darkness, even if the mortals weren’t here to witness it. Everything would be unholy, chaotic madness.
But oh, there was a part of me that responded to it. A part of me that wanted to wrap my hands around the darkness and dance.
I began my descent.