Winter Spell

by Claire M Banschbach

  August swore again as he slipped. “Better than we’re doing anyway.”

  “Than you’re doing,” Dorian corrected with a hint of smugness that was erased as August dove at him with a smirk.

  They rolled to the ground, August coming up first on his knees. Dorian pushed up onto his hands, his wings pulsing in a quick beat that sent a blast of air at August to send him skidding backwards.

  August retaliated by flicking his hand in a wave. Dorian easily dodged the gust of colorful magic, twisting so one hand was still planted on the ground and scraping his foot along the ice as if pushing it toward August.

  August smirked as nothing happened. “Forgot we weren’t over earth, didn’t you?”

  Dorian grumbled, flicking his fingers instead, sending some dusky green light towards August that he couldn’t quite evade in time. It pushed against his chest, sending him into a partial roll. He used his wings to get himself back on his feet. Dorian pushed up off the ice, smirk in place.

  Diane rolled her eyes and started walking again. The roughhousing was a welcome change from the chilly words, but it didn’t mean they had to stop walking. Especially when walking on ice that she didn’t particularly trust, even with Tonya’s reassurances.

  Tonya watched August and Dorian in amusement as they mock-fought their way across the ice with plenty of mishaps and falls. Though this time laughter accompanied it. Diane smiled as she and Tonya stayed well out of the way. Dorian’s deeper laugh accompanied August taking flight before dive-bombing him.

  “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard him actually laugh,” Diane mused.

  Tonya’s cheeks tinted red. “Me too.”

  Diane cleared her throat, and Tonya looked up at the unremarkable cloudy sky, the blush deepening.

  “I see the appeal,” Diane said, trying to keep her face straight.

  “It’s not like that!” Tonya’s voice squeaked.

  “Hmm.” Diane raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s—he’s—he’s just one of the first people to seem to care about me, and it’s spinning my head is all. I mean how is it different than you and August doing the same?” Tonya somehow managed to speak without taking a breath.

  “It’s not so bad to make friends, is it?” Diane nudged her arm.

  Tonya flashed a smile. “No. Maybe I’m just not used to it.”

  Diane nodded. “And he’s not so bad on the eyes.”

  Tonya squeaked again and shoved her hard enough to send her slipping a step. Tonya caught her arm.

  “Sorry!”

  Diane nearly fell over as she giggled. Tonya narrowed her eyes in a frown, but seconds later a chuckle broke through.

  “No, he’s not.”

  “But?” Diane prompted as Tonya fell into silence.

  Tonya watched the boys as they walked a good thirty paces ahead.

  “Well, I’m—me. I’m two kinds of faeries put into one and who knows if that’s natural or not? There’s plenty that think what my parents did by marrying was wrong. And even if he felt something for me, I wouldn’t want his people, his family, to look at him the same as I’ve been looked at my whole life.”

  She stared down at her boots as they took step after step.

  Diane had to clear her throat. “I think that’s stupid.”

  Tonya cast her a sideways glance. “But you don’t know faeries,” she whispered.

  “How is it different from me marrying a Calvyrnian, or a Durnean?” Diane asked. “Just because we’re from different countries doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with loving that person.”

  “But it’s different with magic!” Tonya waved her hands and an eddy of snow rose in response.

  “How? You obviously turned out all right.”

  Tonya shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “Only because my parents warded me off with spells. Who knows what I’d be if my magic were free? Oh, this would happen!” She freed a hand to jab at the ice.

  Diane snorted. “I hardly think that you would intentionally freeze the world if you had full access to your magic.”

  “You don’t know that.” Fear lingered in the purse of her lips and the hunch of her shoulders as she returned her hands to her pockets.

  “Tonya,” Diane said patiently, hooking her arm through Tonya’s. “Even though we’ve known each other for all of a week, I know that you’re a kind, caring faery with a sense of humor I wish you’d let out more.”

  “Really?” Tonya raised an eyebrow. “Sophie used to say some of the same things.”

  Diane smiled. “I think Sophie and I would get along quite well.”

  Tonya snorted a laugh. “The Reef wouldn’t survive the two of you.”

  Diane tossed her head back with a laugh. August and Dorian stopped to wait for them. Diane kept her arm looped through Tonya’s as they took their time to catch up.

  “Maybe I’m not the best person to be giving advice, as I’ve been studiously avoiding my feelings for my guard for the last two years.” Tonya’s giggle interrupted her and she nudged the faery. “But Dorian’s not totally oblivious to you. What could it hurt?”

  “Him, maybe,” Tonya replied softly, but she smiled and let Diane lead her on.

  They all fell back into the sort of quiet, companionable silence that came with walking all day. Eventually, hills reappeared on the horizon, and their pace quickened.

  But the lake played tricks once again and the hills seemed to move no closer in an hour’s walk. Diane sighed and stretched her neck from side to side against the pull of her pack straps. I should be used to Dorian being right by now. She glared at the rebellious hills.

  They agreed to eat dinner rations on the move, all eager to be off the ice. Even Tonya, who seemed more energetic than she had the entire trip. The clouds had obscured the sun all day, but their grey bulk had grown even darker by the time they reached the hills that had finally deigned to move closer.

  Bits of forest covered the hills, welcome splotches of green and brown against the never-ending white. Diane stepped onto the shoreline with a sigh of relief. Even though she still stood on ice, she felt more solid.

  She was ready to throw her pack down and sleep, but August looked around, body tense and alert.

  “I think we should move out from here.” He looked to Dorian. “Smell that?”

  The Durnean faery tapped his foot against the ice, lifting his chin into the light breeze.

  “You’re right. There’s a hippogryph cave around.”

  Diane’s heart dropped into her stomach. She managed a swallow around a dry throat.

  “It’s just the one, and it’s asleep right now.” August dropped his voice lower.

  “Which way is the fastest out of here?” Diane clasped jittery fingers around her staff.

  Dorian pointed straight ahead and started walking again. Adrenaline whisked away the fatigue in her muscles and joints, keeping her going for another hour until Dorian stopped in a small forest that ran ragged over the hills away from the lake, connecting enough in its random copses to earn the title.

  “We should be safe here,” he said.

  Fatigue came crashing down around Diane, as if it had just been waiting for the words. Tonya sank down into a crouch with a sigh of relief.

  “Don’t get too comfortable. We still have to set up the tent,” Diane reminded her.

  “I can sleep outside. I don’t get cold.”

  Diane shook her head against a smile, letting her pack thud to the ground before bending over to free the neatly-wrapped tent from its bindings. Another benefit of faery magic allowed the tent to be folded up into a neat square no bigger than a dinner plate.

  Tonya struggled to her feet and helped Diane shake out the canvas. Diane yawned as they set the canvas on the ground and watched it begin to build itself, a sight that had been shocking the first night, but now seemed almost ordinary.

  Maybe I’m getting too used to magic. Even the magic Dorian and August had been using on the ice hadn’t elicited fear the wa
y it would have days ago. Was this what it used to be like to live peacefully and as friends with faeries?

  The tent finished with a final snap, joining the boys’ tent, which always seemed to build itself faster. Tonya shoved her pack through the flap.

  “What would it take to skip training in the morning and sleep?” Diane yawned again.

  Dorian and August had held true to their word and began to include an hour of training in the morning between breakfast and starting on the day’s walking.

  August stretched his arms overhead, his spine cracking with the motion.

  “At this point, not much. I’ll take first watch?” He looked to Dorian, who nodded, a bit of relief in his eyes.

  Diane felt a smidge guilty about not being asked to participate in the watch rotation. August and Dorian had just taken it upon themselves, letting her and Tonya get a full night’s rest. But the relative comfort of her bedroll called. Maybe she’d offer the next night.

  August dug out his blanket before disappearing out into the trees. Diane followed Tonya into the tent, laying out bedrolls in the dark by habit now. Diane barely kicked off her boots and slid into her blankets before sleep claimed her.

  *

  The unmistakable brightness of late morning woke Diane. She sat bolt upright, startling Tonya awake.

  “I think we overslept.” Diane rubbed her eyes, scraping grit away. She slid her feet back into boots and went outside, stepping over the staff she’d left at the entrance. August stumbled out of his tent, rubbing his arms in the absence of his jacket.

  “You just woke up too?” He stomped his feet against the ground to wake himself up.

  “Where’s Dorian?” Diane turned to search their little camp.

  “Here.” Dorian appeared through the trees, rubbing the back of his neck. “I fell asleep. Sorry.”

  “Good to know you’re not perfect.” August’s little smirk held no trace of judgement.

  Dorian rolled his eyes. “I think we should be fine with a fire for breakfast.”

  Diane clapped her hands together, the cold already finding her in the few minutes she’d spent out of the tent’s warmth.

  “You’re a treasure, Dorian.”

  He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head slightly. “You haven’t talked yourself out of training this morning yet.”

  “How does hot sausages and toast sound for breakfast?” Diane sent him her sweetest smile.

  “I’m listening.”

  Diane chuckled, and turned to retrieve her pack.

  “You going to share with us?” a new voice asked.

  She stifled a surprised cry as eight figures stepped out of the trees to surround them. She stumbled back into Dorian’s steadying hand. August spread his feet wide in a whisper of sound against the ice, guarding their back. Tonya retreated to his side, clutching her knife.

  The strangers all wore heavy, dirt-stained coats. Slim packs were slung over shoulders, and all carried drawn swords or axes that gleamed uncomfortably bright in the morning sunlight. Diane shivered as the tallest man sized them up with flat blue eyes.

  “So, what, exactly, are three faeries and a human doing all alone out here?” He spoke in a friendly manner, but his voice stayed as cold as the ice around them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “We’re just passing through.” Dorian edged in front of Diane, his voice neutral.

  The leader tipped his scruffy chin up to regard him. “Faeries don’t just travel in packs anymore. Especially not with humans.”

  He scowled at Diane. Diane narrowed her eyes back, wishing she’d brought her staff with her.

  “This one looks Myrnian.” Another of the men jabbed a blade toward August.

  Tonya bumped Diane’s shoulder. “What do we do?”

  “What do you want?” Diane lifted her chin higher, infusing authority into her voice.

  “Ooh! Maybe a fancy human!” The leader smirked. “We’ll take you for starters, once you tell us where to get a ransom for you.”

  Diane scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

  Several of the bandits chuckled.

  “And we’ll make sure the faeries are locked up nice and tight so they can’t come after us once we take the rest of your supplies as well.” He reached to his belt and undid a curious-looking shackle. Iron inlaid the steel cuff in swirling patterns that shifted and changed the longer she stared at it.

  Three other men brought out the same contraption.

  Diane swallowed hard. The dark metal would be infused with powerful spells that would eat away at a faery’s magic if they tried to use it. Sorcerers had worked in conjunction with rogue faeries to make them during the war. Even amid the other horrors, the thought had made her stomach turn.

  “Tonya,” Dorian murmured, “do not let them touch you with those.”

  Diane felt rather than saw Tonya’s nod of agreement.

  “August, you have a weapon on you?”

  “A knife. Don’t worry about me.” August shifted his stance again, a tight eagerness in his voice that sent another shiver down Diane’s spine.

  “Last chance to walk away,” Dorian warned the men.

  “Admirable.” The leader smiled. “Give us the girl. We could even find a use for the other one too. You don’t want to tangle with us, boy.”

  Dorian whipped one of his blades from its sheath. “Try me.”

  Diane pressed closer to Tonya. “Stick together and head for my staff,” she whispered, her voice wavering.

  Tonya nodded again, her hand trembling where it gripped her whalebone knife. Diane hoped that the faery could remember her two meager hours of training with August.

  “Jakab, make sure the girls don’t run.” The leader nodded to the bulky swordsman closest to Diane and Tonya. “Tomi, help take these two down.”

  Diane tracked his look to the shortest of the men. Tomi nodded, not quite meeting Dorian’s furious glare.

  “Traitor!” Dorian spat. The faery met his glance for a second before shoving his fist forward in a punching motion.

  Dorian threw his arm up, blocking the blinding flash of light. He spun, kicking out with one foot. The ground rumbled in response, sending two of the men staggering into each other.

  August jumped forward, disappearing as a snow leopard took his place and pounced on the startled bandit closest to him.

  Jakab strode forward, his sword lowered by his side, beady eyes fixed on Diane.

  No you don’t. She grimly clenched her hands. There wasn’t room to run and follow Ralf’s precise training instructions. She’d have to settle for the backup plan.

  Tonya thrust forward with her knife, but he caught her wrist and twisted. Rage filled Diane at Tonya’s cry of pain. She darted forward, forcing the full weight of her body through the heel of her hand in a punch to his sternum. He wobbled, and she followed up with a knee to his groin.

  He stumbled back with a colorful swear. She shoved Tonya out of his fumbling reach and ran around him to the tent, where she scooped up her staff. Tonya set into a stance beside her, breath coming in quick gasps.

  “That was good, Tonya. Just keep moving and don’t let him get too close.” Diane twisted the staff comfortably in her hands.

  Dorian had formed his bladed staff and took on a bandit and the faery. They struck at him with swords, batted away by the quick thrusts and swipes of his blades. He spun it in a quick circle, somehow deflecting another burst of magic.

  August shifted back to his faery form mid-leap, his wings forcing him into a spin to avoid a sword snaking toward him. He landed in a crouch, a knife appearing from somewhere. He slowly rose to his feet, wiping away blood that dripped from the corner of his mouth.

  The look on his face unnerved Diane—ferocious, focused, eager. Nothing like the cheerful faery of moments ago. She jerked her gaze away as his knife flashed and his opponent fell with a cry.

  “Diane!”

  Jakab had gained his feet and approached, a little more warily this time. Diane took the in
itiative, sliding her feet wide and jabbing out with the staff. He lunged for it, and she whipped it out of reach to smack him on the shoulder.

  He cursed, stumbling sideways under the force of the blow. She narrowed her eyes, readjusting her grip on the lower end of the staff. He retaliated in the way Ralf predicted he would. With a more careless swing toward her.

  She spun the end of her staff up to connect with the blade, knocking it away. Before he had a chance to recover, she swung again, overpowering his weak block and shoving the blunt end of the staff at his head.

  It contacted solidly with his forehead, sending him staggering a step before his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground.

  “Put the knife away.” A condescending voice jerked her attention away from her victory to another grubby bandit approaching Tonya. The faery held her knife out in one hand, the other extending toward the ground.

  The man dangled a shackle in one hand and waved his sword with the other.

  Tonya’s free hand trembled as nothing stirred the ice. Diane stepped up beside her, bringing the staff to level at the new threat.

  “You can do it, Tonya,” she growled.

  The man raised one eyebrow in question, and kept advancing.

  Tonya swept her hand up with a hoarse cry and the bandit jerked to a stop, ice creeping up his legs to his knees, freezing him to the ground.

  Diane’s wild laugh scared her as she jerked Tonya away from the man’s frantic sword thrusts. August appeared in front of them, a sword in one hand, and knife in the other. Blood streaked his shirt and the hard glint hadn’t left his eyes.

  “All right?” His voice didn’t sound right—harsh and even. He glanced at the man Tonya had frozen, his lip curling in a savage sneer.

  “We’re fine,” Diane stammered, her fear rushing back.

  “Stay here.” August stalked toward where Dorian still battled the other faery. The bandit leader and his last remaining brigand faced off with August, the leader swinging the cuff.

  August drove into the second bandit with a blast from his wings, slashing out with the sword and cutting a scarlet streak across the man’s chest. The man fell to the ground, scrambling away.