Grave Visions

by Kalayna Price

  I expected Falin to lead the way, but he simply stopped, waiting. It didn’t take long to learn what he was waiting for. Two guards in snowy white cloaks and armor that looked to be carved from solid ice stepped out of seemingly nowhere into the hall in front of us.

  “Knight. Planeweaver. Her majesty awaits you,” the one on the right said. His hand hovered over his large sword, but he didn’t draw it. I took a step closer to Falin, but when the guards turned and led the way through the maze of ice caverns, I followed without comment.

  Though I’d been to the winter court before, I couldn’t have navigated the caverns on my own if my life had depended on it. They all looked the same: endless corridors lined with countless doorways and ice-carved sentinels that I knew from experience would come to life at the queen’s will. I glanced at some of the doorways as we passed, but they told me nothing. As far as I could tell, unless you knew where you were going, it was impossible to know what was on the other side of a door until you stepped through it. The last time I’d been here I’d stepped into what looked to be an empty storage closet and ended up in an enormous ballroom filled with courtiers. The time before Rianna had led me through what appeared to be a solid wall into limbo. Yeah, Faerie was not my favorite place.

  I’d lost count of how many turns we’d taken when the two guards finally stopped in front of what appeared to me to be another indistinguishable door. While it may have appeared so to me, the choice caused Falin to lift one eyebrow, his critical gaze studying the guards. They bowed ever so slightly and backed away without a word, leaving us alone in front of the door.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked as quietly as I could and still be heard.

  Falin frowned, but after a moment shook his head. “No. This is not where I expected to be taken, but if this is where the queen wishes to have an audience with us, then it is her choice. Let’s go.”

  He stepped through the doorway, vanishing the moment he passed the icy frame. I glanced around. Aside from the ice sentinels, I appeared to be alone. The two guards had disappeared down another corridor and there was no one else here. I once again considered turning tail and running, but where would I go? I had no idea how to get back to the pillar that marked the exit, nor any idea what lay beyond any of the doors in this or any other corridor.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the threshold.

  Chapter 7

  A hand caught my arm as soon as I emerged from the threshold and, before I could get my bearings, dragged me downward, into the . . . snow? Falin was beside me, kneeling low. I eyed the snow under my feet. It glistened in a fluffy white sheet all around me, but though it looked deep, my boots remained on top of it, not making an impression. Still, I didn’t want to kneel in it, so I let Falin tug me into a low curtsy, but not all the way to the ground. My knees protested the less than familiar pose, but Falin didn’t release me, so I was forced to hold the curtsy. While his grip kept me locked in the awkward position, it didn’t prevent me from looking up.

  What I assumed would be a room, wasn’t. We were in a small clearing. Pale trees, their bare branches weighted with snow, ringed the clearing, including behind me. Which meant the door I’d passed through had vanished. Great.

  The Winter Queen paced several feet in front of me. She was a vision of Sleagh Maith beauty. Tall and lithe, her snow-white gown clung to her, accentuating her understated but feminine curves. Her dark hair hung around her heart-shaped face in perfect ringlets, glistening ice crystals kissing the curls. She was entrancing, either her magic or her presence making those around her wish to please her, to admire her. I’d had to fight the pull of those enchantments the first time I’d met her. Today it was simpler as she was making no attempt to dazzle me. In fact, I wasn’t sure she’d noticed we’d entered the room. Her full red lips were tugged downward in a scowl and her movements were jerky, her fingers clutching the skirt of her gown as she paced.

  Behind her, a long mahogany table was out of place in the snow-covered clearing. Four fae sat around the table. One I recognized on sight: Ryese, the queen’s nephew. Saying he smiled at me when he caught my gaze would be an overstatement. It was more a smug glower. He lifted a crystal flute filled with golden liquid in a silent toast, and my stomach made a painful twist.

  Ryese had spent the last couple of months trying to seduce me, and while he was handsome enough—most Sleagh Maith were unearthly gorgeous—arrogant entitlement didn’t appeal to me. My continual rejection irritated him, and more than once I’d glimpsed a very nasty cloud of anger behind his pretty features. His eyes, with irises so light they almost looked white except for a pale blue outer ring, gleamed in the fae light, and the mocking greeting made me fear the worst about why I may have been summoned to court.

  Beside him sat a female Sleagh Maith. Her chestnut-colored hair was piled high on her head and woven through with mistletoe, the white berries hanging down like gems around her face. Her gown was the color of an evergreen dusted with snow and decorated with more mistletoe accents. She studied me with inquisitive eyes as green as my own, but her features were carefully placid, controlled.

  Across from her was a blond-haired fae. At first glance I assumed he was just another Sleagh Maith, but something about the arrangement of his features made me second-guess that assessment. It was nothing I could point to and say that one thing made him different. It was the height of his forehead, the width between his eyes, the shape of his ears, the angle of his jaw—nearly every feature—was just a little off, a little more other, than the other Sleagh Maith I’d met.

  The last fae at the table was another male Sleagh Maith. He had dove-white hair pulled back in a stern knot at the base of his skull. His brown frock coat was austere and unadorned aside from holly leaf buttons and cuff links. He gave me only a cursory glance before his attention returned to his queen.

  My gaze also slid back to the queen, who still paced the length of the clearing. She whispered something under her breath in that chimelike language I’d heard other fae use in the past, but while the language might sound pretty, by her tone I guessed it was a curse.

  “My queen?” Falin said, his head still bowed.

  She whirled around. Her ice blue gaze landed on us with the weight of a glacier. She radiated power, anger, and . . . distress.

  The last caught me off guard. I let my eyes wander to the fae at the table again, but none betrayed anything.

  “You took your time, Knight.” The queen shoved the skirt from her hands and turned to me. “Lexi, I require your abilities.”

  I cringed inwardly at the nickname, but it was the request that made my spine stiffen. My abilities? She couldn’t think I’d merge realities for her, could she? Hell, even if I could fully control the ability, I wouldn’t use it for the queen.

  I cut my gaze to Falin, trying to read his take on the situation. He still hadn’t moved and I couldn’t tell anything from his posture. My legs shook from curtsying so long, my knees locking. Shrugging Falin’s hand off my arm, I straightened. The queen lifted one perfectly sculpted eyebrow as I moved, but she didn’t comment on the break in protocol.

  “Your majesty, I think there has been some mistake.”

  “Oh, there have been mistakes. I’m confident that you will ensure this is not one of them,” she said as her eyes bored into me, sending ice down my spine. “And it is not something you can refuse. You may dismiss my offer of kinship, but as long as you reside within my borders you may not refuse my summons.”

  “And I am here, as requested.” I tried to keep my voice light, but the ache in my jaw betrayed the fact I’d been clenching my teeth. I focused on pasting my best professional smile on my face. “But, I have no training in my planeweaving ability. I doubt I can accomplish whatever task you desire.”

  It was the truth, and she knew it as I couldn’t lie, but admitting the weakness to her stung. In this situation though, I hoped admitting the shortcoming
would prevent her from commanding me to perform whatever task she had in mind.

  The queen cocked her head to the side, studying me. For a moment I thought she’d laugh, like I’d done something childish, but she only pressed her palms against the front of her skirt. “That is a matter that must be addressed some other time. Today I don’t require your planeweaving, I seek your grave magic. I am told you often hire yourself out for this purpose?”

  “I—er, yes.” I glanced at Falin, who finally straightened, the movement smooth despite his extended bow.

  “My queen, may I inquire—” he started, but she whirled around, eyes going wide, angry, and cut him off.

  “No. You may not. Knight, had you been here, this . . .” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them again she was once again calm, cold, and as deceptively harmless as an iceberg. “Yes, Knight, you need to see this as well. I must know your thoughts.” She turned back to me. “What you see today, you may not discuss with anyone outside this clearing. It is court business. My business.”

  Her tone held authority and just a touch of power. I could feel the command on my skin, but her words didn’t sink through my flesh like an oath would have. They didn’t bind me. Would they have if I’d been part of her court? And does she realize she’s not binding me? I kept my mouth closed. I didn’t know what it was she wanted to hire me for, but I’d rather not end up oath bound not to speak of it—that always ended up inconvenient. Still, I’d keep her command in mind. I had no interest in aggravating the queen further than my refusal to join her court already had.

  “And who is in this clearing?” I asked, my gaze moving to the fae at the table.

  The queen frowned and glanced back at the table. “This is my council. Had you attended the revelries I have thrown in your honor, you would be familiar with them already.”

  I waited. I wasn’t going to be baited into defending my choice to decline all her invitations. She would introduce her council, or she wouldn’t.

  She studied me and then nodded over her shoulder.

  “Ryese, you know. Beside him is Maeve and then Lyell.” She pointed first at the woman and then at the man, whom I was still unsure whether or not was Sleagh Maith. Finally she turned to the last fae. “And that is Blayne.” Introductions done, she nodded at the fae gathered around the table. “Come, all of you, follow me.”

  Without another word she swept past me, her gown swishing lightly over the snow. No footprints marked her path as she strode toward a group of trees to my left. A doorway appeared between a small gap in the trees, and she vanished through it.

  That door couldn’t have been the one we’d entered through—I had made it barely a step before Falin had dragged me to a curtsy and the door the queen had just used was a good half dozen yards away from where we stood. Of course, this was Faerie, maybe the door had moved. I glanced at Falin. He gave me a half shrug that told me nothing.

  The council members stood quickly and silently, following their queen. All except Ryese. He slid out from his large chair near—but not at—the head of the enormous table, with leisurely ease. He drained his flute before setting it down and heading for the door after the queen. The movements were casual, in no apparent hurry.

  “What is going on?” I asked, but he only smiled a cruel-looking smile and gave a half shrug. Either he didn’t know, or he didn’t care.

  Falin motioned for me to follow him, and I did, stepping through the new doorway. The others were waiting on the other side, the queen tapping her foot in impatience. Once I’d cleared the doorway, she turned, striding down the corridor.

  The queen didn’t exactly stomp down the ice-laden halls, but she also didn’t move with the seemingly effortless grace I’d seen her exhibit on previous occasions. Her movements were sharp, almost harsh in her haste. Once a small hawthorn fae stepped out of a doorway ahead of us, but he took one look at our odd procession and the branches on his head stood on end before he turned and ducked back the way he’d come. The queen didn’t even seem to notice, but led us onward. We entered a corridor with two ice-armored guards standing at attention in front of a large double door. I wasn’t surprised when that door was where we stopped.

  “No one attempted to enter?” The queen asked, as the guards stepped aside. She received a twin chorus of reassurances before she nodded. “Good. Remain at your posts.”

  She passed through the door. I knew I was expected to follow, and somehow I’d ended up in front of the council members. I could feel their stares on my back, pricking along my spine. Still, I studied it dubiously, unsure what I’d find behind it. I really hated the way doors worked here. Falin pressed his palm against my back, not shoving me, but definitely urging me forward. Well, it wasn’t like I had a choice.

  I stepped through the door.

  On the other side I found myself in a huge chamber. It might have been the same ballroom I’d visited the last time I’d been to the winter court, but this time there were no dancers, no music, no buffet tables. Pillars of solid ice broke the space every few yards, arches and flying buttresses extending from the walls. The thinnest layer of snow led a narrow path up the center of the room, like a rolled-out carpet leading to the glistening dais at the heart of the room. On top of the dais, a throne of ice.

  And sitting on the throne, as if holding court, sprawled a bloody skeleton.

  Chapter 8

  It took a moment for my brain to catch up to what my eyes were seeing. Meat still clung to the skeleton in places, dried blood flaking off white bone. A few clumps of hair hung from the skull, and on the top of the head, a delicate tiara carved of ice.

  I spun away from the sight, back toward the door just as Ryese stepped into the room, followed by Maeve. He raised an eyebrow at whatever expression of horror my face betrayed; Maeve only studied me, her expression evaluating. I squeezed my eyes closed, not waiting to see their reactions to the gruesome scene. I gulped down air—a calming reflex. A stupid one around a rotting corpse. Or at least, typically, but my lungful of air didn’t bring with it the sickly sweet scent of decay. Blayne and then Lyell entered the room, and I dragged down three more deep breaths, before I realized that the air should have been gagging me. Yes, the room was large, and the corpse was more bones than body, but with the amount of gore hanging to it, the smell should have been pervasive. But there was no scent of rot. In fact, the air was as sweet as any in Faerie.

  A jolt of shock ran through me. I couldn’t feel the corpse either. There was no grave essence reaching for me. No sense of the body at all.

  I glanced over my shoulder, uncertain. The skeleton still sat there, grinning down from the throne. It certainly looked real. But I couldn’t feel it.

  “What happened?” I asked, fixing my gaze on the back wall again.

  “That is most certainly the question.” The queen sounded like she said the words through clenched teeth, but she’d moved farther into the room and I wasn’t about to turn around again.

  “My queen, have you received any other threats?” Falin asked, but he didn’t approach the corpse or follow the queen. Instead he remained by my side.

  “Do I need more than one? That is my circlet on its head.” Her heels clicked on the ice-crusted floor. “Lexi, whose body is that and who did this, this grotesque display?”

  She made it sound as if the body would tell me just by being in the room. I forced myself to turn, to look at her, all the while trying to keep my gaze away from the corpse. Her council members had moved farther into the room. Lyell had approached the skeleton, but his body language was casual, as if he was studying a museum piece rather than a desecrated body. Blayne and Maeve both had their gazes locked on me, no doubt waiting for me to do something odd and witchy. Ryese leaned on one of the large pillars, watching the queen, not the corpse. Not that the corpse was doing anything, and it wouldn’t either. Not here in Faerie at least. There was no land of th
e dead here. I’d known that fact, had even enjoyed the release of pressure on my shields. But it meant my grave magic offered me nothing.

  “I’ll need the body moved outside of Faerie.”

  “No.” The queen clenched her hands in her skirt again. “No one outside this room must know about this. You will find the answers and then the body will be destroyed.”

  I frowned at her. “It doesn’t work like that. The land of the dead doesn’t touch Faerie. You want me to raise a shade, that body has to be moved to the mortal realm.” I left no wiggle room in the statement. If she wanted me to raise the shade, we’d have to move the body. With the thought, my gaze flickered to the skeleton. How are we going to move that? I shuddered. I definitely didn’t want to be anywhere near it. I might have an affinity for the dead, but I didn’t do decaying bodies or blood. Or, apparently, skeletons.

  The queen released a strangled sound and Falin took a step toward her, his face betraying his concern. “My queen?”

  I caught her movement only out of the corner of my eye, but it was fast. Much faster than I would have assumed the aristocrat could move. By the time my head whipped around the queen had a large blade of ice pressed against Falin’s jugular.

  “Are you behind this, Knight? You are the only member of court with blood on his hands.”

  Falin tilted his head back, but he made no attempt to defend himself. The queen was shorter, but that made her no less deadly. A trickle of blood welled around the frozen blade, trailing a red line down Falin’s throat.

  My gaze shot around the room, to the other fae present. All were focused on the conflict, but none moved, offered to help, or even objected. While I saw some startlement in their expressions, the overall impression I got was that they were each relieved the queen hadn’t turned her accusations—and blade—on them.