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Fred (Book 6): Undeading Bells

Page 19

by Hayes, Drew


  “Very good answer.” Krystal examined me coolly, taking gauge not as my betrothed, but as an agent who’d have to be carrying the weight of protecting me. “If we do this, which I’m still not signing off on, then we do it smart. You reach out to the Clover twins and see if they have anything that can surprise a fey, then Cyndi to ask if she’s got any fun toys we can borrow. I’ll touch base with Arch and the Agency, see if there’s any level of support they can offer. Fey-deals are fairly ironclad, and I know they do have the authority to recall their people, but there’s always some sort of clause or red tape. Let’s call it two hours: long enough to change, handle our due diligence, and see what our options are. If there are goodies to grab, we scoop them up, then head to wherever we have to go for passage.”

  “I was looking for that, actually, and having no luck.” I turned the paper over in my hand, checking to see if the back offered further details. There was clearly passage promised in the letter, yet no method to be found for how to utilize it.

  Krystal came over to my side, looking at the letter with me. “Weird. She definitely extends the offer, and they can’t do that falsely. Maybe if we rub a corner?” Her hand reached forward, taking hold of the edge opposite where my hand held the missive aloft.

  The cold hit instantly, albeit more as a factor brought to my attention than any sort of discomfort. Frosty temperatures didn’t hold much hindrance for a being already partially dead—at least, not ones animated by vampire magic. A far larger issue was the fact that we were no longer in Charlotte Manor or anywhere close to it.

  Together, Krystal and I were standing in the center of a frozen field. Gorgeous flowers of every shape and color grew around us, each made entirely of ice and more lovely than the one before. I could have gotten lost in those colors, the shifting hues catching the light of the fading sun. I blinked, having momentarily forgotten that the sun of the fey lands didn’t burn my kind the way ours did. Nobody I’d asked seemed to have any idea as to why, though that tended to be the rule more often than not when dealing with the fey—as well as their lands. They worked by their own rules, and evidently, that included the methods of transportation.

  “Of course, it was the letter! What in the hell is wrong with me? That was so obvious.” Krystal kicked the snow several times, her sneakers not having the same impact as the boots she normally wore into battle. At least we’d been dressed and wearing shoes; had the letter come at breakfast time, we could be even worse equipped.

  Finally, her stomping ended, she wiped a stray fleck of sweat from her forehead. Weather wouldn’t be an issue for her, given her parahuman abilities; not that I’d expected otherwise.

  “Sorry, mad at myself for being so tilted I didn’t see the obvious. But we’re here, and since I’m pretty sure that letter turned to snow when we arrived, we’ve got no easy way back. Stay close to me, Freddy. I truly have no idea what’s in store for us, or what Hellebore is planning.”

  The lovely flowers made a tinkling sound when they moved, their vines creaking and shifting as a path appeared through the frozen foliage. Unlike the letter, there was nothing puzzling about this setup: follow the path before us, or try to charge out into the unknown. Terrifying as Hellebore was, the idea of being lost in the world of the fey seemed like an even worse scenario.

  Hands intertwined, Krystal and I walked down the path, deeper into the heart of winter.

  3.

  It didn’t take long for us to see where we were going. After less than an hour, we rounded a bend and a new sight of wonder came into view: a castle, coated in ice and snow, gleamed in the distance. While it wasn’t actually made of frost, the entire structure appeared cloaked in winter’s frozen elements—and that was no small feat, given the size of the thing. The structure sat atop a mountain, towering high in the sky, then rising even farther, its jutting spires seeming to pierce the atmosphere. I couldn’t even see what lay beyond the castle—only a large cloud of swirling white, which I suspected to be a snowstorm raging on the other side.

  Krystal’s hand tightened on mine as we saw our undeniable destination. “Be careful. The closer we are to Hellebore, the more danger we’re in.”

  Only as we made our way along the snowy road did I realize I’d never bothered to ask Krystal if she was stronger than a fey like Hellebore. It certainly wasn’t a prudent query to pose when I had to assume we were being watched. Fey, like most parahumans, tended to have a prideful streak; no sense in making an already tense situation worse. The answer had no real impact on our plans, anyway. We were pressing forward to find June; if Krystal decided to try to fight our way out, I had to trust it was because she knew she had a shot at winning.

  My own hope was for diplomacy, yet with every new facet this situation unveiled, I suspected more and more that such a thing wouldn’t be in the cards. Hellebore was setting us up like pawns on a board; we just didn’t yet know the game we were playing. Until we did, there was no telling which moves suited her interests, ours, or both, and given the utter dearth of information we’d been provided, Hellebore seemed content with our ignorance.

  Soon after spotting the castle—much too soon, in fact—we arrived at the terminus our road had guided us toward: a small door in the side of a stone wall that opened as soon as we approached. My guess was that this was some sort of servant’s entrance, but when we stepped through, our eyes were greeted by an enormous hall, decorated predominantly in blue with swaths and accents of silver and white. Banners hung from the walls with torches bearing blue flames interspersed among them. The whole scene matched nicely with the chandelier, floor runner, and other elements dotted around the vast hall. The pale blue of ice from the coldest of environments had been chosen as the central hue around which the rest of the décor was built. The choice struck me as odd, not because they hadn’t made it artful and elegant, which it was, but rather I found the color to be a bit cheerful for Hellebore. She seemed more suited to winter’s darker hues.

  A glance behind me showed a different door than the one we’d entered through, which at least explained why a side entrance opened into a receiving hall. Dealing with mages proved to be excellent practice for navigating the fey lands; I allowed my mind to stop trying to puzzle over such a detail. The rules here were different: I didn’t need to understand them, only accept and adapt.

  “Hellebore!” Unlike me, Krystal wasn’t quite so spellbound by the decorating or shifting doorways. She took several steps forward, visibly wanting to shake a fist and stymied by having nowhere to direct it. “What the hell did you do with June?”

  “Down to business so soon? Shall I not treat you as guests, offering you first a chance to dine, rest, and recover from the journey through the wilds?”

  It would be wrong to say Hellebore appeared. From my perspective, limited as it was, she stepped away from the nearest wall, like she’d been camouflaged there all along and was only now revealing her presence. I nearly gulped in reflex at her arrival; last time we’d met had been at a distance. Up close, she was even more terrifying.

  June and Tem were beautiful to the point of seeming nearly inhuman. There was nothing “nearly” when it came to Hellebore. From her pale, unmarred skin and icy eyes to her sharp yet subtle features, there was no denying Hellebore’s breathtaking effect, but it wasn’t akin to human beauty. Hellebore would best be compared to the summit of a mountain, or a still sea with a full moon hiding its depths: lovely, yet inherently dangerous.

  “I didn’t come for a snack, and you well know it. Where. The Fuck. Is June?” Krystal actually managed to step up to Hellebore, though not quite to the point of getting in her face.

  Our hostess merely stared at her in response, blinked a few times, and then turned to me.

  “What say you, Fredrick Fletcher? Do you wish to make use of my hospitality?”

  Tempting as it was to rush things along, that word pricked something in my head. Hospitality was important; I did know that the fey had rules for how they could treat guests. Granted, I didn
’t have the training to know what most of those rules were , and Krystal wasn’t in a state where I could expect much diplomatic support. Best to wing it and split the middle.

  “Would it possible to revisit that later, after Krystal has spoken with you? I don’t wish to be rude or ungrateful as a guest; however, neither of us will be at ease until we know June is safe.”

  For some reason, that earned me a longer stare than Krystal. It hadn’t felt like especially adept social maneuvering—barely covering the basics, really—but it seemed that was enough to warrant consideration. “Very well. We can reserve refreshments and rest until after you have been made aware of the situation. If you please will follow me.”

  She didn’t even make a motion: as soon as Hellebore stopped speaking, a section of wall slid aside. Behind it was a new hallway with a distinct slope and curve, a ramp leading to the castle’s higher sections. Without even a glance to see if we were following, Hellebore led the way, Krystal and I close on her heels. No way were we getting left behind to jump through even more hoops.

  “Sure as I am that the timing was quite inconvenient, it was, unfortunately, equally inevitable. You see, recently something wandered in from the deepest parts of winter. There are a few wilder beings out there, so old and strong that they will obey no one save the empress herself. Even my authority is insufficient. As such, the standard way to remove our intruder is to drive it back with more aggressive means.”

  As we made our way up the curving ramp, I noticed that we kept passing doors lining either side of the hall. Most were open, showing new turns or rooms to explore, all matching the same aesthetic we’d seen thus far. A few of the doors were closed, however, large stone obstacles that I was sure had more than just heft and locks keeping them sealed.

  “And June Windbrook was the only one who could do the job?” Krystal demanded.

  “Of course not. But she’s the one who was selected.” Neither an apology nor an explanation. Something told me Hellebore would have had an excellent career in human politics. “The Windbrook family has long been loyal servants of the empress. It is customary for those of their line, when they are ready, to undertake a great task on the behalf of winter, proving their devotion and capability to handle harder deeds.”

  “Except June doesn’t give a shit about any of that.”

  This time, Hellebore smiled, and there was something in it that nearly made my legs go briefly numb. “The June of now is not the June of always. One tries many paths before the one meant for their feet. And we fey are as bound by our bargains as those we make them with.”

  Even with minimal context, it wasn’t hard to put together. June had agreed to something when she was younger, maybe before she had been quite so soured on whatever this whole scene was about, and that agreement allowed Hellebore to call her in. Much as I wished it were a trick, most of what we’d witnessed so far indicated that it had to be accurate. Hellebore had already demonstrated that she had power over June the moment she’d brought her here.

  Krystal apparently arrived at a similar conclusion. “So, you’re using an old deal to yank my friend over, all in the name of fighting some monster. Is that really the story you’re pitching?”

  “I have no idea what you mean. Is it not my duty, as an emissary of the empress, to drive encroaching threats from our lands? Should I not offer such tasks to those who have come before me and made oaths to undertake such challenges in service to winter?”

  “A threat that just happened to encroach a week before my wedding. Which you all are apparently still salty about.”

  While Krystal and Hellebore were arguing, we passed a new door that piqued my interest. It was unique, in that it was the first one I’d seen completely frozen over. Even odder was that this door seemed more ornate than the ones we’d previously passed: larger, for one, with engravings along the edge. I couldn’t make out much more detail than that through the thick sheet of ice, plus, we didn’t linger there long. It might have been my imagination, or Krystal’s aggression, but it felt like we picked up the pace as we approached that door.

  “Do you truly imagine that this is about me being miffed at you for not wedding a half-fey? Agent Jenkins, while you would have been a useful ally once wed, we can both see the window for such an opportunity has passed. There are already other plans for Tem, ones that will better suit him and us in the long term. I assure you: I hold no grudge against you for breaking things off. You won your freedom in the Court of Frost under my supervision; it would be quite strange for me, of all people, to then be angered by the outcome.”

  At last, we arrived at the end of the curved hall. As we rose into a vast chamber, one I suspected could be a throne room should royalty deign to visit, we also got our first view of what was happening beyond the castle through a set of wide windows. It still seemed to be a storm, only now, we could see the center instead of just the periphery. For a moment, I thought we were looking at another mountain, until it lifted its head and belched what appeared to be a half-melted slush. The liquid exploded on impact, creating more snow and ice over whatever it met.

  “A blizzard behemoth, the aforementioned threat to our lands,” Hellebore continued. “As you can see, it is quite disruptive, and this is the creature in a relatively calm state. When properly angered, they can destroy whole cities. This one must be stopped here, before it can move inward toward civilization.”

  Whatever else Hellebore was up to, she hadn’t fudged things when it came to the threat. The creature was enormous, with a blocky, almost square head and a long body that branched off into three sets of legs. Between the size, the breath, and the hungry look in its eye, I had no trouble believing this was a threat that would require an agent’s abilities.

  “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?” Krystal whipped around, and if she’d had her gun, I genuinely think she might have drawn on Hellebore, usefulness be damned. “June doesn’t have the right skill set to take on something like that. She’s speed and precision; that requires raw power to stop.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid she hasn’t performed as well as I’d hoped. Dear thing got frozen solid within the first hour she was down there. I’m sure she’ll free herself eventually, though the blizzard behemoth’s ice is no mean feat to crack. With apologies, there is a strong chance she might still be detained when your wedding rolls around, but you can hardly put one social event over the safety of an entire region.” This time, there was nothing subtle about the danger in Hellebore’s smile.

  Krystal lowered her head; I had no idea what to expect next. One thing I certainly wasn’t prepared for, though, was laughter. It rang out from her throat, half-sincere, half-insane, and how much of it was pageantry, I’ve still never fully assessed. When her eyes rose again, Krystal no longer looked worried or frustrated. No, now she was sporting a toothy smile and the kind of glare that would send anyone with sense running for the hills.

  “That’s it? That’s what this is all about? One little petty bit of bullshit and having someone come clean your mess on the cheap.” Krystal walked to the edge of the room, where a thin sheet of ice ran from floor to ceiling, our window and only protection from the outside world. “That’s fine, Hellebore. You want animal control? I’ll be your wrangler. Because I want you to watch and see exactly why my reputation is what it is. Then I want you to think about this, the next time you get an idea to kidnap my best friend.”

  She started to reach for the frozen window, then paused. “Hellebore, you’ve invited us here as guests, correct?”

  “Was that not implied?”

  “Very implied, just not explicit.” Krystal’s eyes moved from the nightmare outside, shifting to me, then Hellebore. “So why don’t you go ahead and say it, in no uncertain terms. Since I’m here to help the lands and all.”

  It seemed I’d been wrong about Krystal’s state of mind. She’d clocked the same details about hospitality I had, only she’d chosen to wait to pounce on them. In some ways, it was one of the most impr
essive things I’d seen her do. This wasn’t some parahuman power granting enhanced observation; it was her, refusing to let anger lead to mistakes. Even knocked off-balance by the sudden loss of a friend, it was never wise to underestimate Agent Krystal Jenkins.

  “As I recall, you are here to help June Windbrook,” Hellebore countered. She did give a little ground, too, at least. “Very well, at your request, I recognize Agent Krystal Jenkins and Fredrick Frankford Fletcher as my formal guests. You should know, however, that the protections afforded by such niceties won’t apply if you step into battle.”

  “Wasn’t me I was worried about.” Krystal shot me a meaningful look from her place by the window. “Freddy, stay here, no matter what. Hellebore recognized you as her guest, so she is bound to keep you safe and return you home, unless you took a dump on the floor or something else disrespectful. Don’t make any deals, don’t offer any favors, and if you can avoid talking to her at all, I would.”

  With that said, she looked to Hellebore. “Little help, or you want me to open it up myself?”

  No sooner had the request been made than the ice window slid upward, exposing all of us to a freezing draft that blew inside. Pausing only long enough to blow me a kiss, Krystal took several long steps back, and then ran, building as much speed as she could. When she reached the edge, she leapt out from the tower of the castle to where the ground would be waiting for her quite some ways below.

  I raced to edge, only to find the ice window back in place. From my vantage point, I could only watch as the woman I loved plummeted through the air, disappearing into the snowstorm before she could land.

 

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