Cat: Hi people. I rewrote the ending to this book because I thought it was so stupid that Aly just watched the fight. What happened to strong female characters? Anyway, this is what could easily have happened to her for being to stupid and annoying.
Disclaimer: I don't own Trickster's Queen, nor do I claim to. I wish I did though because that would rock.
Aly glanced back at Trick. The images displayed in its depths sent a shiver down her spine. How could her mother stand seeing so much death?
Dove was shouting encouragement from the back of the winged stallion and occationally swooping down assist the struggling rebels. Privately Dove marveled at the men below. Where did they find such fortitude? Slowly their forces were advancing, pushing the Crown soldiers back into the Honeypot.
Trick squeaked and the pictures shifted.
Tybur was standing regally, ordering about his large group of followers. "Find Imajine!" Anger burned through him as he thought of the people who had murdered his king. Soldiers stampeded through the palace, and Aly smiled slightly at the way they thoroughly trashed the place. Bean reported that the right wing was on fire.
"What about the kitchens?" Aly asked and wondered if they'd thought of burning a few of the kegs of flour. She sincerely hoped that they had.
"Peony say entire Crown army spend week cleaning it." Trick said proudly. "Peony having fun."
"I'm sure you'll be having fun too." A malicious voice said. Aly bolted to her feet, pulling knives from their hiding places as she did so.
Trick had spilled over the ground and was trying desperately to reshape himself. He was failing mainly due to the fact that the voice's owner had one shinny, high heeled shoe planted firmly in his center. Aly had been so absorbed in the doings of the other members of the raka conspiracy that she had forgotten her own rules.
Imajine had not only escaped the palace, but she had stumbled upon Aly. Whether it was chance or a message from the Gods Aly wasn't sure, but she didn't even waste time berating herself.
Imajine had a sword held clumsily with both hands, which trembled slightly at the weight. As awkwardly as she may wield the weapon, Aly realized, I still didn't have a chance. Even the slightest movement and Imajine would take her head off, and with Trick still pinned, her mind raced for a solution.
Imajine looked frazzled. The hair beneath the golden circlet was flying in all directions, and her make-up was smeared. Dirt and grim streaked her royal blue dress, though she seemed not to notice. Her eyes were wide and wild, her mouth curved into an insane grin. It briefly occurred to Aly that Imajine's obvious fear could be used to her advantage, but the idea came too late.
"Let this be a message to your people." Imajine spat and swung. The sword flew in a wide arc, sending a faint whistle through the air. Aly's eyes widened in genuine shock for one of the few times in her short life, but she didn't scream.
Trick sent out a piercing cry, as grating as nails on a blackboard and twice as harrowing, as blood spilled over it. It splattered everywhere, falling like rain on the hard ground.
Imajine looked around madly, afraid that the creature's cry had betrayed her. Indeed it had.
Tybur and three men rushed around the plants flanking the spot and stopped dead. His eyes flickered from one form to another, before settling on Imajine. Hot anger flooded him, and with just a small movement he signaled his men.
A golden circlet, emblazoned with delicate birds, leaves, and symbols of the Gods, rolled across the bloodstained earth. Tybur turned his back on the two bodies, one beheaded, the other riddled with arrows. Picking up the crown, he held it gingerly and looked to the sky as a dark shape flowed up his arm to settle around the circlet.
This, Trick decided, was definitely not fun.
Cat: please R and R. It makes me feel loved.