Winter Queen

by Erica Marie Hogan

  “Brecken,” Klade said, regaining his attention. “The longer we take, the more chance Mirae Sundragon and her Woodland army will have disappeared again by the time we reach the city. If we take the Aulend road, then we will save seven days at least. Even if she has already moved her army, we will be right behind her.”

  “And if we continue this way and cut her off at the border of the Pilvaa?”

  “There is a better chance she will already be in the Pilvaa and out of our reach.” Klade shook his head, his helmet swaying on his head.

  Brecken contemplated the choices for a moment, his head turning back and forth between the two paths he wanted to take. A part of him wanted Mirae Sundragon to be one step ahead of them so he wouldn’t have to face the task ahead. But if his king found out he had the opportunity to reach Quintaria in half the time anticipated, and he didn’t do so, the consequences would be severe.

  “If passing through the Aulend will save us a few days, then that is the road we will take.” He addressed his second, ignoring the assassin. “Do you have a guide, Klade?”

  “Yes, sir.” Klade spun away, spurring his mount back toward the line of men.

  “Wise decision, Captain,” Haedron murmured, scratching at the stubble on his chin. Brecken shuddered, urging Black Dawn forward as he tried to ignore the vermin’s chuckle. “Very wise decision.”

  The sooner we reach Quintaria, the sooner I will be rid of the scum.

  Damari turned sharply in her bed, the silk sheets tangling around her legs. Releasing a tired breath, she tossed them aside, a puddle of sweat trembling in the hollow of her throat. The night air seemed thick all around her, and her necklace tried to burn through her skin. There was something different about tonight—something strange. The colder the air grew, the hotter her skin became. Her mother’s necklace had to be the source.

  Wishing she dared to remove the pendant, Damari rose from her bed. Shuffling to her window, she looked up at the moon, glittering in the sky, casting beautiful rays of white light down on the gardens below. She smiled, rubbing the sweat from the back of her neck. A long time since she’d had a restful night, but tonight was worse. Brecken had left the city. He’d decided to begin the journey under cover of darkness was better than starting at sunrise. Damari pressed her hand to the glass, looking down at the gardens beneath her windows.

  Her breath hitched when she saw the slight figure standing on the pebble path. Her back was to Damari, long wavy hair falling in intricate ropes down her back and a simple brown robe draped over her little form. Frowning, Damari turned away, snatching her robe from the end of the bed before she tiptoed from the room.

  She took the servant’s stairs to reach the gardens faster. A chill breeze washed over her when she opened the stone door, and the sweat quickly evaporated from her overheated skin. Shivering from the sensation, she shuffled around the corner. She paused when she found herself only a few feet away from the woman. Damari blinked slowly, tilting her head. The moon gleamed off the woman’s hair, and she noticed a blue tint shining like diamonds in her waves. Damari swallowed, realizing as she took another step closer the woman was a stranger.

  Suddenly, the figure turned, and Damari gasped, stumbling back. Her eyes grew wide as the woman followed, holding up a hand to calm her.

  “Don’t be afraid,” the woman whispered, her gentle voice calming Damari’s racing heart. “I am called Navaria Lightmaker, Daughter of Hadroul’s Mountain, and Mistress of the Crystals.”

  Damari breathed deeply, her eyes darting as she took in the woman. This was the veiled guest the Winter Queen was sheltering—this woman with eyes like golden gems and pupils thinned to horizontal lines. Her skin was pure, milky white except for the right side of her face. Damari swallowed the block in her throat, forcing herself to look at the unimaginably beautiful scales that peppered Navaria’s cheek and temple, traveling down the length of her slim neck to disappear in the collar of her robe. They were as pure as sapphires, shimmering in the moonlight as only dragon skin could. Damari shook her head, keeping distance between her and the woman as she spoke.

  “What is going on?” she rasped, pressing her hand to her necklace.

  “You are not who you think you are, Damari Kael,” Navaria whispered, the blue tint in her hair shifting as she swayed from side to side in the moonlight. “There is more to you than you know. Your mother knew, and she protected you for as long as she could. But your time has come.”

  Navaria reached out, touching Damari’s hand. The warmth from Navaria’s fingers sent tremors up Damari’s arm, and she looked up, her lips parting in surprise.

  “I ... I don’t understand,” Damari stuttered.

  Navaria leaned close to her, her breath tingling against Damari’s face. There was a warmth radiating between them now; Navaria’s shivers dissipating until she stood completely still. A soft, contented exhale slipped from the woman’s lips, and her eyes fluttered closed as if she’d just sat down at a warm hearth, protected from the cold of the approaching winter. Navaria placed gentle palms on Damari’s cheeks, her smile reminding Damari of the way her own mother used to look at her. Then, Navaria whispered,

  “You are the Almaër Dominÿe. You are the Chosen One of my people, and you will save us from Winter’s storm.”

  Adlae looked into the glass dome atop her staff, her brow puckering at the dark clouds circling beneath the surface of the iridescent globe. A swift wind blew the salty sea air into her nose, and she looked up at the approaching ship. This was the only ship coming into the docks this morning, and, she could only hope, the one she’d been waiting for. She had promised she would wait until they were sure he wasn’t coming, but the longer she waited, the more troubled she became. She could almost feel Brecken moving further and further away—faster than she had anticipated.

  When the king’s scouts reported he’d entered the Aulend, Adlae knew exactly what he was doing. He would move faster in the Aulend Forest, much faster than if he’d taken the road he first claimed he would. Adlae tapped the end of her staff against the dock. Crackling, the pole thickened in her hand as another layer of ice shot around the shaft from her palm. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Brae coming, hurrying down the street with her hood pulled up, and her cloak wrapped tightly around her.

  “Should I tell her?” Adlae whispered, seeking Winter. “Should I tell her who I am?”

  Will it make her stronger? Winter replied. Will it make us stronger?

  “You know it will.”

  You will need the strength for the journey ahead. Brae already senses the strength being near you invokes. She already knows there is something familiar about you.

  “I don’t want to tempt fate,” Adlae murmured. “If I become known to Brae, then everything I fear will come to pass.”

  But what choice is there? This journey you take will be treacherous. Do you truly wish to travel these paths and risk never telling her who you are?

  “No.” Adlae turned her back on her sister. “I suppose not.”

  The ship was getting closer now, circling to make its way into port. Navaria had timed the ship’s arrival perfectly, and Adlae couldn’t help wondering if she’d known it would arrive today. There were things you didn’t ask a person like Navaria; questioning just wasn’t done, and Adlae knew Krow considered what she’d done last night crossing the line.

  Yet without the Seeing Navaria had given her, Adlae would never have been able to make this decision. Once the ship came in, and she was certain Glaydin, the leader of Navaria’s armies, was going to support her, she could be on her way through the Gracian in an attempt to intercept Brecken before he reached Mirae.

  “Your Highness.” Brae came up beside her, breathless. “Is that the ship from the Mountains?”

  “I think so,” Adlae whispered. “Has Damari spoken with you this morning?”

  “No, I haven’t heard from her.” Brae sh
ook her head. “But Navaria and Krow are coming, I know that much. I had difficulty evading my guard so I cannot stay long.”

  “I know.” Adlae turned to her. “Brae Jandry, there is something we must speak about before I leave for the Gracian Wood that cannot wait for my return.”

  “I will meet you at the gate of the Blood Keep before you depart. Damari’s plan to urge the guards from their posts is already in motion, I’m sure. I am not permitted inside the Keep so I will guide you to the gates of the city where you will depart.” Brae didn’t meet her eyes, her hands folded tightly in front of her.

  “Good.” Adlae jutted her chin, determination filling her. “The king and his sister are riding through the city today to check on the disturbances in the Lower Village. We should be able to leave unnoticed.”

  “Damari has equipped you with the necessary clothing?” Brae turned slightly toward her but didn’t take her eyes from the ship.

  “Yes,” Adlae answered. “But it is not being seen that I fear. Darkness has fallen upon the Gracian Wood, and the evil will fight my purpose.”

  “What will you do when you catch up with my husband?” Brae bowed her head. “I know you intend to stop him from harming my sister, but do you ... intend to hurt him?”

  “I am not permitted to use my power against another soul unless in defense of my own life.” Adlae touched her arm, and Brae shivered. “I intend only to keep a barrier between your husband and sister. I assure you, the one you love will return to you.”

  Brae’s chest deflated with a breath she’d been holding. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Navaria and Krow approach,” Adlae murmured without turning around, instead stepping forward closer to the ship. The vessel was anchoring at the end of the dock and the ramp being released for passengers.

  The tap of her staff left small circles of ice along the wooden path behind her; they crackled and melted beneath the rays of the sun. Adlae tried to calm the flutters in her stomach with a long breath of sea air but was little relieved. She stopped a few feet from the ramp as the shipmen began to unload their crates, the thump of boots rushing across the deck and deep laughter filling her ears.

  Soon the docks would be swarmed with merchants, come to snatch up the first pick of foreign novelties to sell on the streets. Not to mention the royal seamstresses would arrive in their little wagon to collect as much of the soft material from Draedin as they could to sew new dresses for the princesses. At least, that was how things were when Adlae’s father sat on the throne. The docks were a beautiful place then—the Lower Village dripping with foreign wares for reasonable prices.

  Brae kept up with her, glancing over her shoulder now and then when they heard the light tap of Navaria’s slippers on the dock followed by the vibrating thump of Krow’s boots. Adlae almost smiled at the thought of the big man. He was fierce, to be certain, but there was a gentleness in him he reserved only for Navaria. Watching them, she was beginning to understand being Navaria’s Chalqüin meant more than just being her beloved guard. But she wouldn’t ask them for fear of insulting them by prying.

  “Your Majesty.” Brae nudged her arm. “The passengers are coming.”

  Adlae looked up, straightening her shoulders as she watched them. The first who stepped down were a Draedinian couple, the woman draped loosely in thin material. The skirt cut away to reveal long, bronzed legs and the material twisted at the top to curl over her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. The man, whose arm she leaned against, was dressed in tight, bright blue breeches and white shirtsleeves. Lace dripped from the collar nearly to the waist. Adlae rolled her lips together to hide her grin, and she couldn’t help noticing Brae giggled behind her hand. Even now, after all these years, the Draedinians fascinated and amused them both.

  But the five men who followed them were who stiffened Adlae’s spine. The one in front stood tall—perhaps even taller than Krow—his copper hair pulled back behind him by a rawhide string, falling in thick waves to his hips. His narrow eyes—one green, one blue—searched the dock behind her, finding what he sought beyond her shoulder. He stepped down, his hand pressed against the iron hilt of the wide blade at his hip.

  Like Krow, he and his companions wore no shirts. Only dark britches and high black boots reaching toward their knees. They marched down the ramp in unison.

  “Glaydin,” Navaria whispered, startling Adlae.

  She turned sharply, finding the veiled woman at her side. Navaria glided forward, Krow a fixture at her side. The copper-haired man bowed low at the waist, his companions following his example.

  “Lady Navaria.” Glaydin rose once more, sparing a deep nod of respect for Krow. “My Liege Lord. I have come at your command, prepared to serve in whatever manner you deem fit and right under the light of the Creator.”

  “You have pledged yourself to the will of the Creator, and He has spoken to me,” Navaria answered. “Come now and serve our Queen.”

  Glaydin turned to Adlae. Raising her head high, she took a step forward, feeling the brush of Brae’s hand against her knuckles in encouragement. Glaydin bowed as low to her as he had to Navaria. When he straightened, Adlae had to strain her neck back to look at him. He was taller than any man in Sunkai she was certain, and she would match him against a hundred of Roderick’s soldiers.

  “Do you pledge loyalty to the Sundragon, Glaydin of Hadroul’s Mountain, Son of the Haven Star, and Captain of the Dominÿe Guard?” Adlae intoned, crossing her staff in front of her to hold it in both fists. The wind lifted the train of her skirts from the ground, billowing her cloak behind her.

  “I do.” Glaydin knelt before her, and his men did the same.

  “Will you ride with me, to see the Sundragon returned to her place on the throne?”

  “We will follow you,” all six of them spoke at once. “We will follow the Sundragon through dragon fire, to death, to victory.”

  Adlae tilted her head back, lifting her staff to the sky. “Then may the Creator seal this promise on your heart, and may your soul be saved.”

  We are truly in danger, my friend. Winter trembled, sending quivers through Adlae’s blood. A light beamed from the glass dome of her staff, growing brighter every moment Adlae held it to the sky. There is no escaping it. What you fear most will come to pass, and there is no chance of stopping it now.

  Brae waited at the Blood Keep gate, her toe tapping rapidly against the cobblestone. She waited for the Winter Queen to make her appearance. She’d left them on the docks where they were to discreetly discuss their journey. After checking on Noelle and leaving her in Litia’s capable hands, she made her way to the Blood Keep. She felt strange, walking so freely in the High Village, her hood pulled low to hide her face.

  The streets had been blessedly quiet, hardly any passing her when she took the main road to the Blood Keep gates. The guards patrolled the back roads more thickly than the main, leaving the street clean and free for the nobility to walk about without worry of being watched. None had ever expected a person brought so low, like her, would dare to walk along those streets.

  The clomp of horse’s hooves brought her back around. She smiled with relief when she saw the Winter Queen coming, leading her white mare, Starlight, beside her. Brae pressed her hand to the cool iron, gently nudging the gate open. The hinges squealed in protest, and she winced, her eyes darting to be certain a guard wasn’t going to come running around the corner at any moment. Damari had assured them all the guards would be taken care of, out of their way. Brae was thankful, especially since in her heart, she deeply suspected what the Winter Queen wanted to speak with her about. Her suspicions were about to be revealed for truth, she knew it. The warmth in her heart couldn’t be mistaken; the love in the Queen’s eyes evident.

  The Winter Queen stepped through the gate, raising a hand to stop Glaydin and his men from following her. Turning, she smiled at Brae and reached out a hand. Brae took hold
of her fingers, ignoring the chill that skittered up her skin.

  “Is your daughter safe?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Brae replied. “She is at home. Once you go, I will prepare her to leave for the Shadow Lands, which was the home of my mother.”

  “Yes, I know.” The Winter Queen’s hand tightened around Brae’s fingers. “That is a good choice. The Shadow Lands will keep you safe from the world outside, and the people there will welcome you since you are Zelaria Sundragon’s daughter.”

  “I have never been there before.” Brae turned, and they started walking, still clasping hands. She led the Winter Queen along the path that would take them to the back gate. The guards patrolling the city walls would not notice them until they were nigh the Gracian Wood, and then it would be too late to stop her. “I do not know what to expect, I know only that my life will never be the same after today.”

  “This is true.” The Queen’s chest swelled. “The world is changing.”

  “For the better.” Brae pumped their hands between them, drawing the woman’s gaze once more. “Always for the better, Your Majesty.”

  “Of course.” The Winter Queen’s smile was tight, her pale lips slightly pursed as she turned away once more.

  “There was something you wished to speak to me about, Your Highness. Something you wanted to tell me.” Brae stopped her, stepping in front of her so she would have no choice but to look her in the eye. “Please, tell me now.”

  “If I do, everything will change, Brae Jandry.” The Winter Queen winced. “Are you prepared?”

  “Yes, for I think I already know,” Brae lowered her voice, glancing over the Queen’s shoulder at the Mountain People trailing behind. They watched them with bright, curious eyes, but made no move to come closer.

  “You have felt the truth then.” The Queen touched her fingertips to Brae’s necklace. “The link which has joined you with your sister Mirae.”