by K.N. Lee
The prince of Ever Frost and the human prince without a kingdom. Still, as elementals, we were bound by magic and couldn’t escape one another if we tried.
I stroked my bearded chin as I glanced from building to building. The stone structures had been built centuries ago, and housed the faeries of Ever Frost. This was the most brutal terrain out of all of the realms, and yet, we’d found a way to survive.
Maxim walked slowly, paying strict attention to our surroundings.
“Let me know if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”
I nodded, not really paying attention to what he had said. My mind had already wandered to the large crowds of people that had come from all over the realm to witness the Trials—a series of tests for the warriors who were in a competition to serve the new queen once she arrived.
“Are you listening to me, Stellan? Of course, you aren’t,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Your heads in the clouds, as always.”
“Yes, Maxim. I’m listening,” I lied. “I’m also trying to focus. You should too.”
“Something is not right,” he whispered, tensing, his brows furrowing. He bent to take a handful of dirt from the side of the road where flowers and small trees had been planted.
I stood by as he sniffed the dark soil and glanced up at me with a scowl on his face. It wasn’t much different from his usual expression.
Always serious, always a scholar, Maxim rarely smiled, but something about the glint of worry in his eyes worried me.
“What is it?”
He shook his head, standing to his full height which was nearly a half-foot taller than me.
“I’m not sure. Smells of something not of this world. I think its the faint scent of magic from The Veil,” he said, scratching his chin. “I vaguely remember that strange aromas from crossing it years back.”
“Just brilliant,” I mumbled. That’s all I needed was to deal with one of the creatures from The Veil stalking my kingdom.
We were both in disguise, wearing gray cloaks over our fine clothes. As we walked through the maze of streets and marketplaces, I tried to keep my hair covered, for red was rare in Ever Frost.
My mother was from a faraway kingdom, where such a shade was more common. But, here, the faeries were more used to white or blond hair, with the occasional bright blue like Eliza’s.
“The reports say there is a possible body snatcher lingering about,” Maxim said.
My cheeks paled. This was something beyond my training. “A corsus?”
He nodded, confirming my fear of the evil creatures who liked to steal and inhabit the bodies of those of weak body or mind.
“Why couldn’t it be something simple, like a sprite? Sprites are at least easy to banish back to The Veil.”
He shrugged, lifting a thick brow. “Sprites don’t like the cold.”
Bloody know-it-all. I scowled over my shoulder. “That wasn’t a literal question, my friend. I just wish it would be something easy and not a class 5 entity.”
“I see,” Maxim said, his voice lowering. “The patrollers count seven bodies left behind.”
I shook my head, and began to take a step forward when Maxim stopped me by outstretching his arm in my path.
“Wait,” he said. “Do you smell that?”
I sniffed the air. The faint scent of death wafted over the collection of usual aromas of the morning market.
“Death,” I said, throwing open my cloak to reveal a scepter made of bone, onyx, and enchanted glass.
Maxim glanced at me. “You ready?”
I stretched my neck muscles from side to side. “Always.”
Chapter 4
The Earth Prince
While Prince Stellan held out his scepter, I cracked my knuckles and summoned the energy of the earth around us.
All went silent, and the air grew heavy and thick.
The threads of the universe were corded beneath the stone, and soil, and I connected to them with my mental energy. The sensation of warmth and tingling sparks of magic vibrated up from the soles of my boots to the top of my head.
The environment spoke to me like an old, intimate friend, whispering, brushing my cheek.
If anything was amiss, I would feel it.
A whistling sound made Stellan and I pause. The market square quieted as everyone turned to look up at the sky.
Six armored, winged, Wind-Walkers flew from the south of the city and stopped in formation above us. With their swords held upward with the silver blades resting against their shoulders, they hovered in the air, patrolling the entire square.
“They really didn’t spare any expense for the Trials,” Stellan said, glancing up at them.
“More faeries means more security is needed,” I said, not forgetting our mission.
If a corsus was in the city, it needed to be removed. We had a journey to Allandria to begin, and both Stellan and I if were eager to meet the young Unseelie faerie who would be queen. I’d dreamed of her since I was a young lad, cold, and lonely even though I was surrounded by hundreds of orphans. I dare say, the thought of her alone was what helped me survive.
The sound of drums drew my attention. I turned to look behind us and frowned at the scene.
“There,” I whispered to Stellan, nodding, not wanting to draw too much attention to our target.
He followed my gaze, jaw tightening at what he saw.
Two twin boys danced in perfect unison to the tunes of an old elf’s drum.
We squeezed our past a packed square of spectators and to the front of the crowd. White paint on brown skin and black, slicked-back hair. They wore the same outfit: brown leather trouser pants and red shirts with large silver buttons. They smiled and continued their choreographed dance and bowed once the music stopped.
I let go of Maxim’s hand and clapped. I fished a large gold coin out of my pocket.
Stellan put a hand out to stop me. “No. Don’t do it.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I said, and tossed the coin into the basket set beside the elf.
He looked down at the coin, then lifted dull gray eyes to mine. A crocked grin came to his slim, sunken face.
I saw it then; a brief flash of black crossing before the whites of his deep-set eyes.
Yes. A corsus.
Stellan outstretched his scepter and lowered his hood, inciting a collective gasp from the assembled faeries. They bowed and stepped away, giving him room to step closer to the corsus and his minions.
“We banish you back to The Veil,” Stellan said.
“Stupid children,” the corsus sneered. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I grunted as he shed the skin of the elf and leaped into the sky. Gray as ash, with hollow eyes and red tendrils weaving through his face like tattoos. Screams of terror erupted from the crowd as the two boys also shed their skin and joined the larger corsus in the air, hovering, encased in black smoke.
What a sight that made. The crowd stopped watching, and ran in all directions.
The Wind-Walkers looked to Stellan and I.
“Your royal highness,” the captain said. “We have no power over this evil.”
Stellan nodded. “I know. That’s why Maxim and I were born.”
The corsus hissed, and the three of them blew something into the air. With the waving of his scepter, Stellan cracked the ground, and made ice shoot into the sky.
The pointed end impaled one of the minions, his cry echoing off the stone buildings that stood in either corner.
Still, black dust hit my face and seeped into my eyes, nose, and mouth.
I struggled to breathe, falling backward onto the ground.
“Maxim,” Stellan called. “Don’t breathe it in!”
“Its too late,” I shouted, clutching my throat as the burning dusk ripped through my throat and into my lungs.
I could no longer see. All I heard were the sounds of a battle, and the pained yells of the corsus.
My entire body pricked all over, like a
ll of the blood within would burst from my pores. The black dust found its ways into my blood stream. A fiery torment burned me from the inside out, and I wanted to die.
“Glory be mine,” the corsus cried, and darkness took over, pinning me down until I lost all senses and succumbed.
Chapter 5
The Aether
The road from the Crimson Tower was one of darkness and uneven terrain. A pale moon lit the forest on either side and the worn path the carriage took.
“Here,” Queen Sorcha said. “Drink some more.”
She handed me another metal flask of warm brunberry elixir, something she had brewed before venturing across the borders from Allandria.
I accepted and drank enough the quench my thirst and the nagging hunger that ate away at my stomach. It was supposed to give me vitality. Though the taste of licorice lingered on my tongue, I was still waiting to feel such an effect.
We’d been traveling for hours, and Queen Sorcha sat across from me as I snuggled against Kala and fought dozing. It was cold, even with the heavy cloak she’d given me pressed tightly against my body. I was used to being uncomfortable and dreaming of warm baths like I’d gotten each night as a child.
It was good that I had experienced a better life—a normal one—but it made me realize just how spoiled I’d been. I was a princess, though my family and I were exiled, we lived a life of luxury. The privilege of a bath was a foreign concept to me now. I’d gotten used to scrubbing myself with rough cloths in frigid water.
As Queen Sorcha studied me with those ethereal emerald eyes of hers, I was never more self-conscious of the stench that rose from my body in the midst of such a delicate and composed creature such as her. While she smelled of mint oil, I couldn’t ignore the aroma of layers of sweat and dirt that rose from my rags.
“You’ll soon be returned to your former splendor, Princess. You’ll shine like a new golden coin.”
I lifted a brow. Had she been reading my thoughts? I hoped not. I wasn’t exactly sure what faeries from the Seelie Court could do.
The thought of her reading my mind left me wary. Throughout the ride, I’d gone from thoughts of escaping the carriage to find a quiet place to live out the rest of my life with Kala, to accepting my fate.
After so many years in prison, I began to wonder if I was truly fit to be a princess, or a queen for that matter. I was a stranger to the customs I should have learned while I was a prisoner. My grandmother had done all she could to prepare me, but I couldn’t help sensing I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
Then, again, there was something innate inside of me that begged to be satisfied. The Guardians had blessed me when I was born. They’d bestowed an ancient power and divine calling that I couldn’t ignore. I wasn’t the only one given the gift.
The other elements called out to me from different corners of the world, and for years I’d had to close my eyes and suppress my yearning to be united with them.
“Thank you,” I said, swallowing against the dryness in my throat. I took another sip of the elixir. “For taking me from that wretched place. I was starting to think I’d die there. Every day, I waited for the warden to open the door and march me out to the gallows.”
“It was the least I could do. After years of war with the humans, I requested the honor of freeing you myself.”
“So, you aren’t afraid of me?”
“Of course, not,” she said with a chuckle. “Why would I fear you?”
Shrugging, I looked to Kala who was sleeping, her head rested on my lap as her body took up nearly the entire seat.
“Being from the Unseelie Court usually elicits prejudice from your court. We’re all tricksters and evil creatures, apparently.”
She shook her head with a sigh. “That’s nonsense. I’ve lived a very long time, and I know that many facts have been bent to fit the perception some faeries would like to define the Unseelie. No. We were all one in the beginning. The fact that you come from the land of dark magic is actually why you were chosen.
The Seelie and Unseelie Court have been at odds for centuries, just like the humans. But, I think its time we stop dividing ourselves. The future demands unity.”
Interesting. I still couldn’t help but worry about what the faeries of Allandria would think of me.
“Did you fight?” I asked. “In the war?”
“Oh no,” she said, smoothing her emerald skirt. “Of course, not. I don’t use a sword. Well, I guess you can say I fight with my intellect. I’ve been making policies and negotiating treaties. Finally, King Aerion and the other four kings agreed to one. So, for the first time in nearly a century, the magic-born will have peace with the humans.”
I sat up a little taller. “Why? What made them agree to peace?”
She tilted her head. “Because you and the other elementals will put the world right again. The Veil between the living and the dead needs to be repaired. Emperor Jasper stalks the realms, causing pain and discord. Only you and the elementals can stop him.”
Such a revelation stunned me into silence. It made sense. They needed me to reverse the damage my ancestors had done after centuries of power struggles and war.
“So, I’m not free at all it seems.”
“Of course, you are,” she assured me. “You will rule all of the magic-born. Just wait and see.”
We settled into a quiet that left me alone with my thoughts.
Queen Sorcha yawned and opened a small book. How she could read in the dark was a mystery, but I kept my mouth shut as her eyes scanned whatever was written on the cream parchment.
The sound of the steady trot of the horses as they pulled us along lulled me in and out of sleep. It wasn’t until they made a sudden stop that I fully awakened.
“That’s odd,” she said, leaning over to look out the carriage window, and my teeth chattered as an icy wind swept inside. “Harold, why have we stopped?”
When Harold didn’t respond, I tensed. Something wasn’t right. The horses made a strange neighing sound as if they were being strangled. Sitting up in my seat, I followed her gaze out the window to see dancing flames coming closer and closer to us from the dark forest outside.
Humans. My eyes widened as I realized that several armed men were approaching.
It wasn’t until one of the lights came soaring toward us that Queen Sorcha shared my fear.
I knew my freedom wasn’t meant to last long. They’d come to kill me.
Chapter 6
Kala growled, standing on all fours, ready to pounce.
“Shall I handle this?” Kala asked, lifting her glowing eyes to the queen’s.
Dark figures emerged and I realized that outside the carriage was a mob of people with torches, spears, and swords.
Queen Sorcha held up a hand. “No, your immanence. I can handle it.”
“They’re blocking the path,” I said.
“Bloody fools,” Queen Sorcha said. “I swear they never learn.”
“Can’t we go around?” I asked, my pulse quickening as the carriage began to rock from their pushing.
They began chanting so loudly that I had to resist the urge to cover my ears. Such anger and hate. I was used to being hated, but nothing like this. The prison guards never shouted insults and slurs.
“Hand over the witch.”
Witch?
“Give us the witch.”
“She is not welcome in Tythra or anywhere else in the human realm.”
I paled, an icy ripple racing up my spine. They were talking about me.
“We are leaving, actually,” Queen Sorcha assured them.
A large hand reached in and tried to open the locked carriage door. Queen Sorcha pointed her wand at him and sent a shard of red light into his palm, zapping him. The man snatched his hand back with a howl.
Visions of my mother and father being ripped away from me as I screamed and cried returned. If my grandmother hadn’t held me back, I would have clung to my father’s leg and been carried off to the gal
lows along with them.
“Don’t they know you’re their only chance at being free from those blasted dark sprites?”
Panicked, I looked from her and to the fire that began to rise. We were going to die, and she was acting as if they were simply coming over for a little spat. No, I knew better.
Closing my eyes, I began to call on the power I’d been awaiting all of my life. It had to present itself now.
“No,” she said. “Don’t shift. Not now. You must save your strength.”
My eyes popped open and my jaw hung. “You are reading my mind, aren’t you?”
With a shrug, she frowned at the men outside. She pulled a band off of a rolled scroll and held it up to the window.
“I have a royal decree here from the king. Now, step aside so we can pass. We don’t want any trouble.”
For a moment, there was a tense silence. A few hushed whispers passed between the burly men outside and the cloaked holy men with them.
I couldn’t help but hold my breath as we awaited their reply. With narrowed eyes, I examined the golden embroidery on the black cloaks worn by the clerics outside. Black eyes looked back at me, and I coiled back with realization.
I’d seen those symbols before. The men who had taken my parents away had worn them on their cloaks.
How many times had I had nightmares of the clerics and soldiers coming in the night to rip me from my meager cot in the Crimson Tower and carrying me to my death?
“See?” Queen Sorcha asked through clenched teeth. “It’s all here, in writing.”
The carriage shook as a torch came crashing into the side, sending flames flying.
There was our answer.
She shook her head, more annoyed than afraid, and took a wand from a holster strapped and buckled around her shoulder and waist. She tapped it twice to the wooden door and it lit up a bright red. With a glance at me, she nodded to the mob of shouting humans outside.