Crown of Frost

by Isabella August

  Had this been what Liam had gone through when he’d taken on his father’s mantle? No. It would have been much worse. Even this was only a portion, compared to the crown of shadows that he wore.

  A frost rose slithered its way between her fingers, thrilled to touch her directly. Somehow, it tore her from her mad despair.

  Liam. I have to change Blackfrost, to help him.

  She closed her eyes and summoned up every last ounce of her strength, driving her memories, her hopes and emotions, into the roses that now spanned every inch of Blackfrost. She remembered Liam as he was, and as he had become.

  Power like freshly-fallen snow, the comfort of darkness when you were weary.

  The quirk of his mouth as she re-tied his scarf.

  His soft whisper. “You’re going to forget me.”

  His touch on her cheek, his lips at her neck, so careful to breathe only the first part of her name, even while she drove him off the edge—

  The impossible expanse that was Blackfrost shuddered.

  The realm tried to revolt against her power; it tore at the frost flowers as though they were thorns underneath its skin, rebelling against its lord’s wish to keep them out of a sense of sheer survival. Elaine held strong, clinging to the vines of ice and stone which ran like veins throughout the Arcadian realm, steadying them with every iota of her magic and her being.

  I have not forgotten you, she thought, though she couldn’t speak the words aloud. Your name is Liam O’Cuilinn, and I love you.

  Elaine felt it, the moment that Liam’s startled power reached for hers. Her eyes were sealed closed, her lashes frozen — even her Witchsight was blinded with an overwhelming array of sensations. But somehow he found her, through it all. Five years from the day that he had first taken on Blackfrost’s mantle, he was no longer an overwhelmed, out-maneuvered new lord, though the realm had done its best to wear him down.

  He dragged its jaws from her mind, from her flowers, forcing it back into submission. Elaine felt the new vigor in his touch, the certainty that she had offered him along with his name.

  Her body was cold, but she felt warm, and blissfully complete. I found you, she thought. I didn’t forget you.

  “Elaine Halstead.” She heard his voice now, hoarse and distant. “Accept a pact with me, please. Please, El, don’t leave me…”

  Elaine struggled. Yes. The word formed in her mind, but she couldn’t force it past her lips. Her body had stopped shivering. That was bad. She knew somehow that it was bad.

  His lips pressed against hers, impossibly warm. She felt the crown of shadows on his brow flickering madly, crazed with conflict. She had won, she had beaten Blackfrost, but he needed her help to make the change last permanently, in spite of its bitter struggles.

  Say yes, she thought. You have to say yes. Somehow, she forced her lips to move.

  “Y-yes.”

  The world stopped.

  The endless, starless darkness seethed… but failed to touch her.

  Elaine felt his warmth, his arms around her in the dark. Despair fell away, powerless before him. Liam was its ruler… and all of that boundless, eternal night could not break his gentle touch.

  If light never came again, Elaine realized, then at least Liam would always be with her in the darkness.

  She opened her eyes in the deepest shadow of Arcadia, but all she saw was his cool blue eyes.

  “Elaine,” he whispered. The sound of her name shot through her like a bolt, burying itself inside her soul. “I didn’t… how…”

  Elaine managed a weak smile. “I love you, Liam,” she said, because she hadn’t been able to tell him before.

  Liam pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. “I love you,” he whispered back. “I thought I’d lost you, Elaine.”

  “I th-thought I’d lost you too,” she admitted. She tried to tighten her grip on him, but her muscles were still regaining their strength. Beneath her feet, all around her, she became aware of Blackfrost, seething impotently against her. Bewildered, she reached out to touch it… and felt it grudgingly submit.

  Her eyes widened. “Your mantle. Liam, what did you give me—”

  “Blackfrost nearly… I nearly killed you,” he managed brokenly. “I can’t let that happen ever again.” He took a breath. “I gave you… part of my authority.”

  He shared a piece of his mantle with me. The crown.

  Elaine reached out with newfound senses. She was dumbfounded to realize that her limited sense of the realm had expanded much further than her frost flowers. If she concentrated, she could see each corner of the realm, picking out details bit by bit. There were the cypress trees, their needles carved from ice. There were the canyons that howled with jagged winds; the skittering of tiny faerie snowflakes that stretched and danced upon the breeze; the dark, watery depths that slept beneath the ice; the Lifeless Garden, secreted away at the center of the realm, no longer lifeless but overgrown with frost flowers…

  Simon!

  She searched for the warlock quickly, panicked. Her attempts were clumsy, though, and her aimless flailing sent her mind whirling across the skies instead. She forced herself to calm down, think; Simon couldn’t be far from where they were, and Blackfrost knew where its lord currently was. She honed in on that point of reference, feeling Liam next to her in the darkness — then, not far from him at all, the crumpled figure of the warlock, shivering in the snow. Blackfrost had begun to tear at him, searching out his warmth and stealing it away. Worse still — she blanched — it had opened up his old mental scars, feasting on his grief.

  Get away from him! Elaine snarled. She tore those black tendrils from his mind, clearing them away. She felt Liam’s surprise as she did it, but he didn’t interfere.

  Now that she knew where Simon was, Elaine disentangled herself from Liam, hurrying toward him physically. There was no light, but she no longer needed it to guide her steps. “Simon!” She dragged him upright, shaking him. “Simon, wake up! It’s all right, I promise, it won’t hurt you anymore!”

  Simon shuddered, opening his eyes. The green in them had dimmed visibly, hinting now at a warmer, simpler brown beneath. He focused on Elaine with effort, dragging himself back to the present.

  “Rose,” he whispered. He stared at her with an awful emptiness in his eyes. His voice cracked horrendously. “I’m so… I’m so sorry. I should have been there.”

  Elaine stared down at him in horror. Blackfrost dragged him through it all over again, she thought. This place… this awful place.

  “I’m not Rose,” she told him, her voice choked. “That’s been a long time now, Simon.” Gingerly, she reached out toward him with the gentle roses of Blackfrost — curling around his spirit, grounding his sense of self again.

  He closed his eyes, and breathed in shakily.

  “Simon?” she asked softly.

  “I’m all right,” he whispered. “I’ll be fine.” He opened his eyes again, and though the green was still faded, the brown seemed to have mostly receded. Somehow, he found it in him to smile, though the expression didn’t reach the rest of his face. “That went better than expected,” he told her hoarsely.

  Elaine let out a long, worried breath. “You stupid fool!” she said. “Defiled your domain? Really? Couldn’t you have just asked him to come and talk politely?”

  “I got theatric,” Simon admitted, still trembling. “I didn’t think he’d come himself if I didn’t make it over-the-top.”

  Elaine became aware of Liam standing just behind her. The crown of shadows on his head had steadied and receded, like embers finally going out. He considered Simon with a much calmer gaze now. “You insulted me at a particularly unstable moment, I’m afraid,” he said. “You were trying to help. I repaid your selflessness quite badly, didn’t I?”

  Simon shivered, and Elaine became aware through Blackfrost’s unique hungers that he was still more shaken than he seemed. He reached up to touch his fingers to the chain at his neck.

  “I taunted you,�
�� Simon said finally. He let his hand fall away from the chain. “But if you feel any remorse at all, please spare my patron any further grief. I know that she has caused you untold insult and trouble, but…” The green in his eyes strengthened, and he turned to look through the darkness, toward the borders of Blackfrost. “…I can’t help the pity I feel for her. I do not know if it will ever go away, no matter how much or how little she deserves it.”

  Liam turned to consider the border. It was now cloaked by a deep and abiding darkness… but as Elaine listened, she thought that she could hear the broken sobs of the maddened faerie lord.

  “My daughter,” she whispered. “My son. Please give me back my son…”

  Elaine glanced at Simon, surprised. Liam echoed her gesture, his brow knitted. “You don’t share blood with the Lady of Briars,” he said. “What does she mean by calling you her son?”

  Simon blinked slowly. A flash of emotion crossed his face, more quickly than Elaine could decipher it. He coughed, embarrassed. “I… I suppose some bonds are not made of blood,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize I had made such an impression upon her.” The fresh injury in his eyes knitted back together somewhat, softened by the revelation.

  Elaine offered her hand to him, and he took it, pulling himself shakily to his feet.

  The sky lightened, ever so slightly. There was no sun in Blackfrost, but there was at least a bit of light reflected off the snow now — from what quarter, Elaine couldn’t tell. The Lady of Briars had leaned herself against the border of the realm; Elaine saw that her hair and hands had wilted from the chill, as she beat herself against its edges. The Lady’s dull, grief-stricken eyes fixated on Simon as the darkness ebbed, and she let out a fresh cry.

  Simon staggered across the border hesitantly. The moment that he did, the faerie embraced him, sobbing. “My child,” she said. “My foolish boy, my Simon…”

  Simon carefully returned her hug. “I’m all right, Mother.” Elaine heard him whisper it very quietly. His tongue seemed awkward on the word Mother, as though he was trying it for the very first time. It soothed the Lady, though, and Elaine thought she saw a sad smile flicker across the faerie lord’s face in return.

  Elaine hurriedly searched the tangled briars outside of Blackfrost. Finally, her eyes fell upon Pallid Valentine, bloody and unmoving. The Drowned Lord’s warlock looked like a pale puppet with her strings cut.

  Elaine knelt down beside her, pressing a hand to her cheek. Her skin was as chill and clammy as ever, though, as her body dripped with the brackish water of the Deeps. The warlock’s blind eyes fluttered open, staring sightlessly.

  “He’s coming,” Valentine said quietly. “The Drowned Lord. I’ve lost.”

  For the first time, Elaine heard real anguish in her voice. For years, Valentine had stoically endured her predicament… but something truly terrible had cut through that misery now, to stab at what little remained of her heart.

  “No,” Elaine whispered. “I won’t let that happen.”

  “You have no choice,” Valentine said. “I gambled, an’ I lost. As long as I belong to him, I can’t stop him.” Cold, salt tears gathered in her eyes. “He’ll take the last thing I care about before the year is out.”

  Black water gathered beneath them. Salt water hissed and withered at the briars that still littered the edge of Blackfrost.

  The Lady of Briars pulled back from that water, still holding tightly to Simon. Her green eyes flared with warning.

  A pale figure, strangled with seaweed, stepped up out of the black water.

  And then, there were three faerie lords.

  Chapter 14

  “And here you are,” the Drowned Lord rasped. His black eyes bore down upon Pallid Valentine. “Searching for succor from cold Blackfrost?”

  Elaine rose to her feet slowly, placing herself between the warlock and her master. His dead eyes narrowed upon her, but his presence overwhelmed her less than it had done before.

  The realm of Blackfrost pressed at her back, lending her power.

  I don’t know what to say, she thought. But she knew that she couldn’t let him leave with Valentine.

  “Another fallen witch,” the Drowned Lord observed, staring her down. “Though you whine so often about your yokes, it seems that none of you can help yourselves. Power is all you truly desire.”

  Elaine found her voice. “Valentine didn’t sell herself to you,” she said. “Her husband did that, didn’t he?”

  The Drowned Lord laughed hoarsely. “She sold herself to him,” he said. “For whatever payment you mortals find compelling. He merely passed her on to me.”

  Simon met Elaine’s eyes, where he stood with the Lady of Briars. He still looked ragged and miserable, but he took a step toward her anyway, suggesting his support. If it came to blows, Elaine knew, he would do his best to help… as little as he might be able to contribute, at this point.

  “For love,” Elaine told the Drowned Lord quietly. “We find an awful lot compelling, for the sake of love. But I don’t think you understand that word.”

  Ice snaked out beneath her feet, as Liam set foot outside his realm. He pressed a reassuring hand to the small of her back, where the other faerie lord couldn’t see. “Trouble at my doorstep all over again,” he said. “I knew I never took warlocks for a reason.”

  The Drowned Lord tilted his head. There was an awful black spot of rot just beneath his ear, where the seaweed of his crown shifted away. “I shall take my warlock and leave,” he said. “Be assured, she shall pay for her disobedience to me, and suffer for the inconvenience that she offered you in turn.”

  Elaine bit at her lip. She glanced back toward Liam. His face was cold, but his hand was warm at her back. “The Drowned Lord has a debt to you,” she whispered. “Is it… would it be enough to buy her contract?”

  Liam glanced down at her, shadows flickering across his brow. A tiny, helpless smile crossed his featured. “Mercy for Pallid Valentine?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” Elaine whispered. “Please.”

  Liam fixed his gaze back upon the Drowned Lord. “I have a different view of the matter,” he said. “Pallid Valentine stays. I am buying her contract from you.”

  Cold, brackish water surged, beating with sudden fury against the borders of Blackfrost. “My debt to you is not so great that I owe you my oldest warlock,” the Drowned Lord hissed.

  “No,” Liam said slowly. “But I offer you a fair price in exchange for her contract. And your debt is just great enough that I shall insist you accept my offer.”

  The rotting faerie lord’s gaze flickered to Elaine. He smiled pleasantly. “A fair price,” he hissed. “Then give me your warlock in place of mine.”

  Liam tugged her back in the blink of an eye. “Nothing you own equals her value,” he said coldly. “She is no warlock. She is my queen.”

  The Lady of Briars lifted her head, fixing her eyes upon Elaine. A terribly aghast expression crossed her lavender face. “What has he done to you, my flower?” she whispered.

  Elaine saw her hand, pale against Liam’s black sleeve. She blinked slowly. Her skin had paled to a snowy white. Beneath the mud that still caked her, she was sure that the colors of her clothing had dimmed. Her eyes would be different — some piercing shade of blue, reflecting Liam’s power within her.

  She was a warlock, in a sense, Elaine realized belatedly. No… she was something far more than that.

  Oh, Jenna. Worry stabbed briefly through her chest. Her apprentice would be horrified.

  “You may take any one item from the vaults of Blackfrost,” Liam informed the Drowned Lord, in a frigid tone. “But lay one rotten finger on my queen, and I will freeze the Deeps to their very last drop of water.”

  The Drowned Lord’s dead eyes widened in fury. “…if you insist upon this,” he hissed. “I shall never forget it.”

  Liam smiled slowly. “I appreciate that,” he said. “Truly. It would be a terrible waste of my humanity if I never used it to annoy the rest of
you.”

  The pressure of the Deeps intensified around them. Elaine felt it slide around her like water off her back — Liam’s hand still held her close, and the ice in her veins resisted. But Simon staggered again, and the Lady’s briars moved to steady him.

  Pallid Valentine choked and screamed.

  Black water gurgled from her throat, spilling from her mouth. Her scream cut off into agonized coughs, as the Drowned Lord’s power bled from her body, bit-by-bit.

  Elaine dropped to her knees, gathering up the warlock — but she was helpless to do much other than watch and hold onto her, as the seed of faerie power that had grown so deeply into Valentine’s soul was ripped away from her.

  Finally, the last of the Drowned Lord’s power leached away. Valentine shuddered bonelessly… but there was an expression of overwhelming, awe-filled relief on her face.

  “I hold your debt to me,” the Drowned Lord informed Liam coldly. “Be assured that I shall use it, at a time when I see most fit.”

  “So noted,” Liam observed.

  The Drowned Lord turned his head to regard the Lady of Briars. “I am told now that you held my warlock prisoner,” he said. “This, I shall also not forget.”

  The Lady of Briars smiled. “She entered my realm of her own accord,” said the Lady. “I responded to the invasion. I owe you no debts.”

  “There are debts,” said the Drowned Lord. “And then there are debts.”

  “Begone, Drowned Rat,” the Lady said scornfully. “You have no more power here at the edge of Blackfrost than I have. Repeat your threats when you are secure.”

  “You would ally yourself with your old enemy?” the Drowned Lord rasped.

  “Hardly,” the Lady of Briars said. She turned alien green eyes upon Liam. “You remain hateful to me. And there shall be a reckoning between us, I do not doubt.”