by K.N. Lee
“Hold open the curtain, my dear.”
I did as I was told and hurried to hold the maroon curtains open.
Her eyes turned completely white. She lifted her wand and with a mumbled series of words I’d never heard, a bright light shot forth from the tip of the wand. Then, an sphere of air appeared before us, spinning, and gathering energy.
My eyes widened as the sphere grew until it seeped out of the carriage and enveloped the entire thing.
The shouts and curses from outside were muted and Queen Sorcha pointed her wand directly at the mob.
“Well,” she said. “That’ll be enough of that.”
I sat on the edge of my seat and watched in awe as the carriage was lifted into the sky. I held onto the window ledge as we ascended high into the clouds.
“How did you do that?” My jaw hung as I looked down at the dark thatch of forest and how it ended at an expansive meadow littered with white trees encrusted with snow. It was beautiful, like lights in the shadows.
She sat back in her seat and rubbed her temples.
“It’s nothing really, dear. Just a bit of air mixed with magic. Too bad, though. I was saving my energy for at least until we were out of Tythra. Now, I’ll need to rest.”
“Or course,” I said as she lay down across the seat. “Will the carriage continue to fly?”
“Yes. It’ll take us to the frozen sea where the Royal Guard and Prince Ewan will be waiting for us—as negotiated with King Aerion. They’ll make sure we have safe passage through The Veil of the dead.”
“Prince Ewan?”
She nodded, studying my face again. “Yes. The air elemental.”
Stunned, I slumped back in my seat. Just brilliant. No one told me I’d meet another elemental so soon. I breathed in and tried to calm myself.
It seemed I was in for a bit of an adventure.
Chapter 7
The Earth Prince
“Drink,” someone urged me.
At least my ears are working well. The idea didn’t sound too bad. My throat was dry beyond words and ached with thirst. I didn’t hesitate to part my lips.
A thick, warm, substance seeped onto my tongue and I began to cough raggedly at the saltiness.
My eyes snapped open. They met the deep-set gray gaze of the faerie who sat beside me with a wooden bowl in hand.
“Where am I? What happened?”
She placed a hand on my chest, shushing me. “Calm yourself, your highness,” she said, her voice smooth and soothing.
I nodded, and rested my head on the soft, down pillow.
“Who are you? Where is Stellan?”
“Makya. Prince Stellan is waiting for you to heal. I made him go to bed,” she said. “He cares for you. He sat in that chair for two days just to make sure no one harmed you while you rested.”
“He did?”
“Yes. Now drink before it gets too cold.”
That was surprising. Stellan liked to pretend that he was hardened, and uncaring. Still, we both treated each other like brothers, and brothers were often rivals.
There was a white tattoo of a bird on the right side of Makya’s light brown cheek. Her hair was long and white, and though most faeries were ageless, I could tell she was an elder.
“How long have I been out?”
She reached the bowl to my mouth again. “Four days. It was quite a challenge ridding you of the corsus poison. But, I’m confident that most is out of your system and you’ll be free of it all within another day or two. For now, this brew will heal your aching stomach and soothe your parched throat.”
“Four days,” I said, grabbing a handful of my hair and staring at the ceiling. “We were supposed to leave for Allandria.”
“Allandria will still be there when you recover.”
“Queen Sorcha will not be pleased,” I said with a heavy sigh.
“She will be glad that you are still alive, young prince. Now, do not worry yourself. Rest. Get well.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but the brew lulled me into sweet sleep. Tired of the empty void, the darkness, I tried to fight it.
“I can help you,” a disembodied voice whispered from within.
* * *
My eyes popped open. The dim light from a single candle welcomed me.
What was that voice?
My head lolled to the side as I watched the flame flicker and dance. I heard soft singing come from the next room. The flame seemed to sway with the soft melody.
I tried to sit up, but the pain forced me back down.
The room was small, with four stone walls, and a tiny window at the top, right above the bed I lay upon.
I thought back to what had happened and vaguely remembered the corsus and his minions. Oh yes, he’d infected me with black dust. The pain was there somewhere, but manageable.
Makya was gone, and I found myself wishing she was there. There was safety in her presence. Though alone, the tiny hairs on my arms rose as the heavy gaze of another made me shoot up in bed.
A memory of a soft unnatural voice still haunted me.
A tiny cackle set me on edge.
“Who is there?” My voice came out cracked and I swallowed against the dryness. Still, I kept my eyes open wide, and refused to blink. I wanted to catch whatever was in that room with me.
My eyes shot to the candle’s flame. It no longer swayed. Now it stood still, and reached higher into the air.
“Maxim,” the voice whispered.
Cold flooded my veins.
“Who are you?”
The flame cast a glow on the wall, and that’s when I saw it; a shadow that wasn’t my own, huddled in the corner.
“Call me star, for I am as old as the universe, and have watched it shift and evolve,” it said.
“Star?” I repeated, wetting my lips. “What do you want from me?”
“Oh, I think you know,” Star said. “Emperor Jasper wants the Aether, and you will take me to her.”
The candle flickered out and a black blanket of darkness smothered me.
Chapter 8
The Aether
The carriage flew for a day and a half, and landed at the edge of an icy tundra. From above, I could see into the frozen sea. Patches of dark water and slush gave way to the white shore that stretched for miles upon miles into the distance.
Queen Sorcha sighed and shook her head as we waited for Harold to open the door.
When the carriage doors were opened, snow flurries attacked us. The chill shocked my skin once the first snow flake landed on the tip of my nose. Still, more flakes flew onto my face, dusting me until the door was covered in the powder.
Harold’s black beard was covered in snow, and his dark eyes glanced at me before quickly looking away.
It was then that I noticed that he was neither human nor faerie. The horns curling from his forehead were indicative of a feren, a creature from the north of Ever Frost where the giants dwelled. The bitter air didn’t seem to bother him. On the contrary, it was said that the cold only made them stronger.
Still, he didn’t speak. He simply stepped aside and made way for Queen Sorcha as she left the carriage and stood on the icy ground.
I was a wary. Though I’d changed into traveling clothes in the back of the carriage, I wasn’t ready to endure the storm raging outside.
In leather pants more supple than any material I could recall wearing, and a cream-colored tunic with a belt and my heavy cloak and boots, I prepared myself and leaped down with a crunch of ice.
Kala followed suit and stood beside me, her eyes gazing at the dull, gray sky, and then to the outstretched frozen sea before us. It was different from what I’d imagined. The sea was frozen in some spots but a slushy consistency in others. Green and blue lights danced across the sky just above the sea. It was magical to behold, but I knew what lay ahead.
The Veil between the living and the dead. I shuddered at the thought that in just moments we’d be crossing that invisible boundary.
At t
he edge was a narrow black ship, with several men on deck and on shore. Though slim, it was tall, with the royal crest of Allandria on its black sails. A white dragon curled around a sword.
The Royal Guard. I swallowed and tried to get a better look. They were too far to truly make out any details, but I was looking for someone in particular.
Prince Ewan.
I’d heard his call many times. It was like an itch in my chest that I couldn’t scratch. His power reached out to mine and some nights I’d weep with frustration that I couldn’t reach back.
The Crimson Tower was enchanted. It muted my power and left me defenseless. Now, I was free.
“Just a short walk,” Queen Sorcha said, lowering the hood of her cloak over her vibrant red hair. “And, off we go.”
I did the same, pulling my hood down and tightening it at my throat. It worked at shielding my face from the tiny particles of ice that blowed at my face.
Harold unhooked the horses from the carriage and led them to us.
“You can ride with me,” she said as Harold helped her up into the saddle.
I continued to search for Ewan even as I hopped onto the back of the horse behind her. I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and held tight, still with my eyes fixed on the men in the horizon.
The thumping of my heart in my chest was so loud that I could barely hear the howling of the wind and crunch of snow as we began a slow trot away from the carriage.
Every moment that we drew closer to the ship was agonizing. I could feel his heat and smell him before I even got a look at his face. I wondered what he would look like. Would he be as handsome as I’d dreamed? In my mind, each elemental was a perfect representation of what I deemed attractive.
Bright green eyes. Taller than most of the soldiers behind him with broad shoulders and a square jaw. Black hair with hints of silver at his temples.
I realized I didn’t have much to go on. I hadn’t seen many men in my life. Just the guards at the tower and they all had a sullen, dirty look about them.
Under guard, Kala and I were allowed to walk the outer gardens of the tower twice a day, and occasionally I would catch a glimpse of the other prisoners. They were always kept away from me, in another area, but I would spy on them from time to time, astride Kala’s back and peering over the walls of shrubbery.
No one ever seemed particularly pleasing to the eye, and no one ever spoke to me. Even the prisoners were afraid to fraternize with a witch.
Eagles soared above, searching for food, and finding nothing but white as far as the eye could see. I looked over my shoulder and caught the faintest of a glimpse of the dark forest we’d left behind.
A shriek escaped my lips as a blast of heat filled my core and rippled through my entire body. My jaw dropped and Queen Sorcha glanced back at me.
“Well, looks like Prince Ewan is excited to see you.”
Prince Ewan manipulated the storm-wind, for me. It lifted my hair and brushed my face, gently, almost as if he touched me with his own hands. It was then that I realized I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but couldn’t wait to find out.
White trails of powdery snow coiled and danced along the wind in an unnatural display.
Magic.
I sat up tall and looked down at my gloved hands. Even through the leather, I could see that they were glowing, as was the rest of my body. A smile came to my face, and I touched my cheek. I hadn’t expected to actually be excited about meeting a stranger.
Excitement was an understatement.
Chapter 9
Tythra suffered an eternal night after the split of The Veil, and as we approached the camp of soldiers, my heart was in my throat. Though the anticipation made my hands sweat despite the frigid wind, I was more ready than ever.
With the dancing colors in the sky, it lit the path for us across the ice and hard-packed snow. In the horizon, I could see mountains, far, far away.
Tiny red flies buzzed around us with translucent wings. Their sudden burst of color was stark against the gray atmosphere around us.
“Disgusting little blood suckers,” she hissed, swiping her hand at one as she stopped her horse just behind Harold. “Of course, they’re hunting so close to The Veil. Try not to let them bite you, dear.”
She lifted her hood. Snow flew from the thick wool and curled along the swift wind as she kicked her legs over the side of the horse to dismount.
I would have asked what they were, but my eyes were locked on the camp the Royal Guard had made on the icy shore.
Canvas tents lined the beach and several fires blazed high, sending orange embers into the dark sky. They wore leather and fur over their emerald armor, and all turned to behold our arrival.
Every man kneeled to her—except for one—who didn’t bow as deep or linger as long. He was much different than I’d As imagined, bright ice-blue eyes on the verge of being completely white lifted to mine from under long silver hair streaked faintly with a black undertone that matched his brows.
It was him.
Ewan—the wind element—one of the princes in my future court.
“We camp for the night,” she said to me. “And continue the journey in the morning.”
Nodding, I barely heard a word she said as the prince walked directly to me and held out a hand. I almost forgot anyone else was there, though they watched us with apt attention.
“Evening,” he said in a thick accent that made my spine tingle. “Prince Ewan, at your service.”
Swallowing, I glanced down and for a split second hesitated when I realized he had a metal hand. My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face free of emotion, accepted his hand, and lowered myself to the ground. I needed to know the story behind that hand, and found myself a great deal more curious than I thought I’d be.
He was tall, almost a full foot taller—another characteristic I was correct in assuming. I noticed a point to his ears and was pleasantly surprised. He was an elf.
“We finally meet.”
Nodding, I prayed he couldn’t hear how loudly my heart beat against my ribs. The fact that he was technically the first man I’d met who wasn’t a prison guard left my throat dry and my cheeks hot.
For a moment, I could breathe again as he took his heavy gaze from my face and turned to Queen Sorcha.
“Queen Mother, there have been reports of elves in the territory just beyond The Veil.”
She folded her hands before her and pursed her lips. “They’re your people, Prince Ewan. What are they doing there?”
“Well, they’re from a lesser kingdom to the west, but I gather they are seeking refuge.”
“From what, exactly?”
He shrugged. “Civil war, probably. The report didn’t say.”
After a long sigh, she nodded. “Very well. I’ll deal with it once we get through The Veil. Any reports of weyrs?”
Prince Ewan shook his head. “No. The wind says we should be safe if we go at first light.”
“We will be ready,” she said, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. “I will retire to my tent and get some rest. You two should do the same.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “Sleep well,” she said and headed to one of the larger tents set up for her.
Once she was gone, the silence between Ewan and I was filled with the faint howling of the wind.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to be alone with you? I would have destroyed armies and climbed the Crimson Tower to rescue you if Queen Sorcha would have let me.”
Kala sat beside me, watching him.
“A dire wolf,” he said, smiling down at her.
“A changeling,” Kala corrected, surprising him as she shifted and stood before us in an indigo gown and gray cloak. Long white hair fell to her lower back and gently swayed. Faint wrinkles creased at the corners of her thin eyes, yet she looked no older than a faerie of forty despite living at least a century.
He stumbled backward, eyes widened. “Blessed spirits.”
She stretched
and rolled her neck before resting a critical gaze at the prince. “Blessed spirits, indeed.”
A faint smile came to my lips. “Prince Ewan,” I said. “Meet my grandmother, Dowager Queen Kala of Mordigan.”
He raked a hand through his silky hair, and looked from my grandmother to me in awe. “Bloody brilliant.”
Kala pulled her cloak closer and looked down her narrow nose at him with ice-blue eyes. “You didn’t think the Queen Mother would leave you two alone, did you?”
For the first time since the queen saved me from the Crimson Tower, I was at ease. Even though we were camped on the beach outside of The Veil that separated the living from the dead, having my grandmother there in her faerie form brought me solace.
I covered my giggle with my hands. I wasn’t entirely alone during my imprisonment. Kala would always find a way to visit. Whether it was as a butterfly flying into my window, or a dove, she was one of the most rare of fairies. I was lucky to have her.
Eleven years in the Crimson Tower would have been unbearable without her company. When she was with me, my days would be filled with tutoring, etiquette lessons, and the occasional story about my parents and how they met at the Harvest Ball.
Though it took a great deal of energy and power to shift, she was allowed to return to her faerie form on occasion, if only for a little while.
My grandmother’s existence was lengthened because of her ability and each time she returned to that of a faerie, it shaved precious years off her life.
“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “I simply wanted to—”
“Yes, yes,” she said, cutting him off. “Show us to our tent, young man. The princess needs to rest. You can charm her as much as you’d like in the morning.”
Prince Ewan bowed to her and turned to obey her command.
“As you wish, Dowager Queen.”
Chapter 10
We followed him from the horses and through the tight-knit arrangement of tents and huddled soldiers warming themselves around fires with embers that sparked and crackled in the air.