by Amber Argyle
“Don’t force me to make an example out of you, Chriel.” Ilyenna’s voice was like the quiet before the blizzard.
Elice held her breath, silently begging Chriel not to push her mother. But Chriel simply tipped her head to the side and said, “Can you not all see the truth? The tremors that shake the mountains flat, the explosions of fire and ash that bring them up again. Already, dozens of varieties of plants, animals, and insects have died out completely, never to be seen again.” When the last of their animals had died, so had the fairies.
Streams of shimmering cold spread out from Ilyenna, but still Chriel went on. “Each rebirth is different. The Unicorn Age would have ended with the races destroying themselves, and perhaps the Balance with it. The Fairy Age will end in explosions of fire and ash and the quaking of the earth.”
Everywhere Ilyenna’s skin touched, hoarfrost spread, coating her throne in thousands of needlelike spears. “All of which are brought about by the Summer Queen to substantiate her lies.”
Chriel sighed. “Only the lands between—the lands fought over by both queens, the lands where summer and winter clash—are affected. How do you explain that?”
It grew so cold that frost formed in the air, sparkling as it drifted. “You were one of my most powerful, trusted fairies. How far you have fallen,” the Winter Queen said, sounding tired.
“Chriel, don’t!” Elice warned softly.
Ignoring her, Chriel clenched her clawed hands. “You might still stop it, Ilyenna. Make peace with summer. Right the Balance, else the Sundering destroy us all.”
Ilyenna rose, and even Elice shrank away from the cold radiating from her like daggers. “I will never make peace with the Summer Queen!”
Elice knew Chriel, knew that determined set to her wings. She was nothing if not a master teacher. And she wouldn’t stop until the lesson was understood. “So be it, Ilyenna, Queen of Winter. You seal your own doom, and the doom of us all.”
“Mother, please,” Elice begged. “She’s upset—”
Ilyenna held out a hand to silence Elice. “Chriel, have you been filling my daughter’s head with these lies?”
Elice shot Chriel a pleading look. But instead of backing down, the rabbit fairy flew forward. “They are not lies.”
“Traitor!” Ilyenna cried, a ball of icy light forming on her palm. Elice shot from her chair, diving for her mother. But her grandfather grabbed the collar of her tunic, which cut into her neck and threw her balance off. Choking, she fell back into her chair.
“Ilyenna,” Otec said, his voice strained.
She turned to regard her father for half a moment. Then her gaze fell on her daughter.
“Please,” Elice gasped.
“An example must be made,” Ilyenna said.
“Please!” Elice cried out. “Not her. Anything but her.”
For once, Ilyenna’s expression softened. The brilliant silver light faded. She faced Chriel and threw her hand out. A band of ice entrapped the fairy, pinning her wings to her body. Chriel plummeted to the floor, landing with a light thud. “Take her to the dungeons. I’ll decide what to do with her later.”
A fairy shifted into a raptor, swooped down, and grasped Chriel’s shoulders in its wicked talons. She cried out, purple blood leaking from the piercing wounds. Elice wanted to beg them to be gentle, yet she knew she was lucky Chriel had not been banished to the summer realm. Elice dared not push her luck. “Thank you, Mother,” she breathed.
Ilyenna eased onto her throne. “I have not yet decided Chriel’s fate. She may still die.”
Elice leaned toward her mother, her hand raised imploringly, but her grandfather took hold of her arm in a remarkably firm grasp. “I’ll talk to her. Later. You go.”
“Grandfather,” Elice whispered, “Chriel is the only friend I have.”
He looked at Ilyenna over her shoulder. “I’ll do what I can.”
Elice hesitated. If anyone could get through to her mother, it was her grandfather. She listened to him, sometimes.
She was about to go when her mother held out the frost-covered apple. “It’s ruined now, and I can only bargain for so many. I suppose you want it for your collection?”
Elice stared at the apple, which was frozen, just like her mother’s heart. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something that might make things worse, Elice took the apple and regally rose to her feet so the fairies wouldn’t see her weakness. She pivoted and left the throne room as fast as she dared, knowing thousands of eyes watched her every move.
Moments before Adar heard footsteps pounding down the stairs hidden behind the tree, the seal alerted him that someone was coming. Adar grabbed a rock and hid it behind his back in case he had to defend himself. Elly pushed open the door and seemed surprised to find him staring back at her. Her face was red as if she’d been crying. Her arms tightened around the clothing she was carrying, practically strangling them. “What are you doing here?” she said sharply.
He raised a single eyebrow as he discreetly tucked the rock under the sealskin beneath him. “You dragged me to your cave and demanded I stay, remember?”
Elly glared at him, a line forming between her furrowed brows. “Don’t you know it’s death to anyone who approaches the Winter Palace?”
Adar stared at the warm-looking clothing in her arms. “There are more important concerns at present. First, it’s freezing in here. And you ripped off all my clothes earlier and fed them to the sea.”
Growling, she set a cup of something on the table and shoved the clothing at him. The movement jostled his shoulder, but he kept the pain from showing in his features. The cloth was thick wool, thank the Balance. He let the rug drop from his shoulders, shivered hard, and shook out the tunic, struggling to find the hem. The girl huffed in exasperation and pulled it over his head, scraping against the lump on his head. This time Adar couldn’t hold in a grimace, but luckily the tunic covered his face. He pushed his good arm through its sleeve, but let the other sleeve dangle empty.
He tried to pull on the trousers, but bending at the waist rekindled the fierce burn in his shoulder. “Elly, I would prefer a quick death by drowning instead of freezing to death in this cave.” It was the closest he could come to asking for help.
With eyes full of distrust she stared at the trousers and his bare legs. “You’re so . . . hairy.”
“Well, they won’t give you slivers,” he said in exasperation. Still, she didn’t move. “You went through a lot of work to save me only to let me freeze to death now.” This time, he couldn’t keep the chatter from his voice.
Still looking wary, Elly knelt down and held them open for him. When he rested his palm on her back, she winced like he was hurting her. Finally, he had the trousers on. They were too short and far too wide, as was the shirt. Adar would complain later. Right now, he was too grateful for their warmth.
He smoothed his hair and made sure the cord that tied it back was still in place. “I admit, though many a woman has helped me out of my clothes, not one has ever helped me back into them.”
Elly shot him a disgusted look. “Where did you get all those scars?”
“An accident when I was younger. I would have died, but my mother saved me.”
“Why are you here?”
“We were lost in a storm, we and another ship. With the clouds covering the stars, we were sailing blind. We didn’t realize how far off course we were until we saw the sky this morning. Then the winter fairies came and sank our ship.”
Elly helped him put on some heavy boots that were too big. “Who is ‘we’? Are you Svass?”
Adar considered lying, then decided he probably couldn’t pull it off. “I’m a tribesman from the Adrack Desert.”
She jerked back. “The tribesmen are in league with the Raiders! The Summer Queen’s consort is a tribesman! You even speak the same language—Idaran.”
Adar cocked an unconcerned eyebrow. “We’re not in league with the Idarans. We simply peacefully coexist with them.
Just as we do with the clansmen to the north. It was our language before it was theirs.”
Elly didn’t seem convinced. “Why would tribesmen come so far north?”
He longingly eyed the cloak in her hands. “Blubber. We need to light our lamps just as much as the next nation, and the Svass are charging exorbitantly high fees for blubber of late.”
“What of the girl you were speaking of? The one you were so desperate to find.”
He chuckled at the irony. “I haven’t found her yet, but I will.”
“You mean she wasn’t on the ship?”
Exactly what had he been muttering? Not wanting to trap himself in a lie, Adar said simply, “No.” He gestured to the fancy cloak. She hesitated then handed it to him. He eagerly wrapped it around his shoulders. Dressed in an ill-fitting ensemble fit for royalty, he knew he looked utterly ridiculous.
“Whose clothes are these?”
Elly started feeding strips of meat to the pup. “My grandfather’s. He never wears his ceremonial clothes, so they’re least likely to be missed.”
Complain later, Adar told himself as he pushed himself to his feet. Only years of training let him keep his balance. He looked down at her as she nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another. She was perhaps the most easily read person he’d ever met.
“Just remember, I can kill you any time I want,” she declared.
It hurt to laugh. Adar almost didn’t mind the pain. “Your queen already tried.”
Elly looked away. “Your lunch is on the table.”
Food. It was his one true love. He walked over to the table, looked down, and nearly choked on his saliva. “Blood? You brought me a cup of blood?”
“Cooking the meat makes it weak. We eat it raw.”
Imagining the rich foods of his homeland, Adar muttered under his breath, held the cup to his lips, and gulped it down. Then he slammed the cup onto the table and wiped at the blood leaking down the sides of his cheeks. “Tastes like metal.” He scrubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Where’s the rest of my lunch?”
“In the kitchens, where it belongs. You can’t eat meat yet.”
Adar held up an indignant finger. “How come the seal gets meat?”
“Because Picca isn’t freshly injured.”
He looked the seal over. “She doesn’t look injured at all.”
Elly winced. “I want her to put on more weight before I release her.”
Adar wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. She was obviously attached to the creature. He worked his tongue, trying to get the taste out. “Whose blood is that anyway—a sacrificial virgin?”
Elly gave him an exasperated look. “It’s seal blood.”
He glanced at the animal she was feeding. “So the seal is a cannibal?”
“It’s only fair. After all, Picca’s mother was trying to eat her.”
Fire and burning, what kind of hell had he stepped into? “Do seals normally eat their young?”
Elly shook her head. “They’re starving.” Done feeding the seal, she settled down in the cage. The creature immediately scooted onto her lap, and Adar swore it started purring. “We need to talk about how we’re going to get you out of here,” Elly told him.
He shrugged and then really wished he hadn’t. “Easy, we’ll find the other ship and sneak out under cover of darkness.”
She looked at him as if he were daft. “Dark? Once the sun rises in the Winter Queendom, it circles the horizon for months before disappearing again.”
Adar passed a hand over his face. “This whole place is unnatural.”
Elly crossed her arms and huffed. She was cute when she was irritated. “First things first,” Adar said. “I’m guessing you have a lookout tower somewhere in this palace. Get me up there, and I’ll see if I can find the other ship.” He headed for the secret door.
Elly extricated herself from the seal pup and started coming after Adar. “If the Winter Queen or one of her fairies sees you—”
He studied the ice tree, trying to figure out how it opened. “You wouldn’t let that happen. After all, you’d be in almost as much trouble as I would if they found you harboring me.” He hoped. “You need me gone almost as much as I need to leave.” Plus, he had to investigate the layout of the palace. His mission might still be salvageable.
She stepped up beside him and pressed her full lips into a thin line—an unfortunate use of them. “You need to rest. You’re badly injured.”
Not like I could forget, what with the burning in my shoulder and the pounding in my head. Adar found the handle disguised as a bough and pulled. The door swung silently inward. “I’m a fast healer.”
Elly jammed her foot into the base of the door. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He shot her a look over his shoulder. “Really, Elly, I just want to go home. I’m unarmed in a place where everyone has magic and the air alone could kill me in a couple minutes. What could I possibly do to you, or anyone else for that matter?” Technically, he could do a lot of things, but she didn’t need to know that.
“You’re going to get us both caught.”
He rubbed his forehead, letting some of his emotion bleed through. “Those sailors who died—they were my friends. The men in the other ship are my friends too. I have to warn them.”
She stared at him, her expression conflicted before pity took over and she stepped back.
He started up the stairs, looking around appreciatively at her handiwork. “Tell me, Elly, if you’re the queen’s ward, why do you live in a cave and why were you dressed like a servant this morning?”
She hurried after him. “I don’t live in a cave. And those were my old clothes.”
He grunted, not quite believing her. Now they stood before another door. Adar reached for the handle, but she stepped around and blocked him, saying, “You’re risking my life as well as your own. We do this my way or—”
He frowned at her. “Are all wards as demanding as you?” She took a breath as if preparing to berate him, but he neatly sidestepped her and pulled the door open.
“You can’t just—” she began, but he held out his hand to silence her.
“This is amazing,” Adar said in awe.
His breath left his body in a puff of white, and he momentarily forgot the constant pain in his shoulder. He turned a slow circle. He’d expected a palace made of ice—but not this intricacy, this attention to detail. Nor the colors, for though the sculptures were of ice and snow, they were also prisms that caught the weak sunlight, scattering bursts of color throughout the room. There were sculptures of animals, flowers—everything to be found in nature. All made of prismatic shapes. There was even a long table of vases filled with frozen flowers, and strangely enough, a frozen apple.
He turned a slow circle, trying to take in everything at once. But it was the carved relief in one corner that caught his eyes. A dozen geometric shapes, arranged in a circle. In the center was Elly, her face breaking apart in a kaleidoscope of eyes and lips. It was like she was watching, waiting. Always waiting. Wanting to speak but unable to.
Loneliness lurked in her eyes. Adar reached out to brush his fingertips across the flat planes of the carving. He turned to face the girl who’d pulled him out of the ocean. Her thick dark hair and pale skin fit in perfectly with the cold surrounding her. But not her eyes. They were the color of a pine forest at dusk—blacks and browns with hints of emerald beneath.
“Are these the princess’s rooms?” he asked. Who else could make such marvelous things?
Elly huffed. “The princess didn’t make it, I did. And these aren’t her rooms—they’re mine.” She turned away. “The princess can form ice that’s malleable for a few hours. I shape it.”
Adar ran his fingers over the cold branches. “How did you get the proportions so perfect?”
She nodded to one of a dozen shelves of books tucked away between tree and wall. He went eagerly to the books and pulled one down. It was heavy. He set it
on a small round table, undid the clasp, and let the pages come open. He reveled in the familiar velvety feel of the vellum. There were drawings of trees in the sides of the pages, the branches twining into clannish knots, the writing a beautiful calligraphy. And while the drawings were beautiful, it didn’t convey the depth, textures, or proportions of a real forest—all of which Elly had managed to skillfully capture. “You didn’t get this from a book.”
She pulled the book from his hands with more than a little possessiveness, shut and clasped it, and lovingly placed it back on the shelf. “I have dreams sometimes, of a place that looks like this. Mountains capped in white. Dark-green trees and bright-gold fields. Stone houses with wooden roofs. There is so much color and light—no matter how hard I try I can never get enough of either.”
Adar realized he couldn’t read her this time. Something wasn’t right. Elly was lying to him or hiding something. He wasn’t sure which. “Why the cave, when you have an extravagant room like this?”
She narrowed her gaze. “The palace is made of ice. A fire would melt it. I have to dry my hair somehow after I go swimming. And I need a place to heal the animals.”
“Swimming?” he said in disbelief. “You go swimming out there?”
“How do you think I saved you?” she retorted. It was a good point. Not that he’d admit it. “The queen changed me with a kiss,” Elly continued. “I wouldn’t survive here without it.”
He picked up the frozen apple, thinking it didn’t quite fit in with the frozen-flower motif. At her dark expression, he set it back down. He had more pressing concerns, and this pretty ward wasn’t one of them. “You’re not what I expected.”
She folded her arms, shifting from one foot to another. Nervous again. “What did you expect?”
Not this yearning, not this eye for loneliness. Adar smiled at her. “I didn’t expect such beauty.” Might as well flirt with her—after all, she was growing prettier by the minute. And he needed something to do until he found the princess.
Elly pressed a hand to her chest. “You think it’s beautiful.”