Fairy Queens: Books 5-7

by Amber Argyle

  Elice opened her mouth to make it clear how much she hated white, but then hesitated. She was of the Winter Queendom. Her mother was the queen. Elice had turned her back on that once, and look where it had landed her.

  “White and silver,” she finally agreed. “Winter’s colors.”

  Cinder nodded in approval. “White yes, but not silver—it’s not in your color pallet. Gold is.” Elice didn’t argue, since she’d always loved gold more than silver. Cinder had her stand as she draped the dress over her shoulders. “I measured you while you slept, so of course it will fit. I just wanted to check how it drapes.”

  Immediately Elice recognized the style, and tears stung her eyes. It was clannish clothing—an overdress with an underdress. She’d even be able to wear her clan belt with it. “What are they going to do with me?”

  “In three days, you are to have an audience with the queen and be presented to the lords and ladies of Idara.”

  A wave of dread nearly swept Elice’s feet out from under her. “For what purpose?”

  “Adar is on your side,” Cinder said quietly. “He’s been plotting and planning since he arrived. No one does it better than him, except perhaps his mother.”

  “I’ve seen that firsthand. Whose side are you on?”

  Cinder’s fingers paused before resuming their work. “I know what it is to be trapped. That, perhaps more than my skill, is why Adar sent for me. And why I agreed to come back.”

  “Come back?”

  Cinder’s eyes flashed like a storm building over a boiling sea. “I hate Idara.”

  “I know what it is to hate your heritage.” Elice glanced back at the pale-blue sky, at the light streaming through the window and catching on motes of dust—without the snow to cover the ground, the air must be choked with it. “Are you loyal to Nelay?”

  “They are always listening.” Cinder swung out the dress, which flared and floated as she settled it on some sort of fabric dress form and began making adjustments. Elice’s hope flared, then faltered just as quickly. Perhaps Cinder really would try to help her, but what match was a seamstress against a Summer Queen?

  “Adar wants you to look like a princess when they present you to the crowd, and so you shall.”

  Cinder led Elice to the bathroom and showed her how to work the faucet. “It’s cold,” she said with a shrug, “but then you learn to appreciate anything cold in the desert.”

  Elice was already stripping out of her soiled shift. Her skin felt oddly damp and uncomfortable. “The cold has never harmed me.”

  “I suppose not,” Cinder answered as she laid an underdress on a long table. “I still have a few adjustments to make on your overdress, so take your time.”

  Sinking into the cool water was a relief. With her discomfort lessened, Elice soon discovered that each soap had a scent, so she used them all. When she stepped out, water dripping from her skin, she paused before the emerald bottles. Then she reached out and grasped one. Beneath the pads of her fingers, the glass felt as hard and slick as ice, sending a pang of homesickness through her. She uncorked the lid and was inundated with a floral scent. She tried another and another. Rich spicy scents, warm muted scents, sweet and light scents. Elice chose a sweet and spicy fragrance. The oil pooled across her palm and made her hands slip over her skin.

  She donned the underdress and stepped into the bedroom to see the wind howling past the patio doors, churning up great masses of tan-colored dirt. She pressed her forehead to the glass but could see only a few people. They wore veils over their faces and hair, so just their eyes and hands showed. Bits of dust had gathered at the corners of the doors, spilling into the room like snow from the Winter Queen’s blizzards.

  “It’s like this every afternoon and evening. It will be over soon,” Cinder said from behind Elice.

  Feeling lethargic and uncomfortable, Elice wiped away the moisture on her forehead. “What will?”

  “The sand storm. The one in the afternoon is the ovat. The one in the evening is the tavo.” Cinder came to stand beside her.

  More moisture trickled down Elice’s back. “Why am I wet?” she muttered. “I’ve dried myself off.” Cinder shot her a confused look. Elice wiped her brow, which was damp again, and showed the other woman the moisture on her fingers as proof.

  Understanding dawned on Cinder’s face. “It’s sweat—your body makes moisture on your skin to cool you when it’s hot. You’ve really never sweated before?”

  Elice blinked. She was going to be uncomfortable and . . . sweaty, the whole time she was in Thanjavar? “It never gets above freezing in the queendom. Even if it did, my magic rages through me—or it used to.” Sick with all that she had lost, she looked back out the window. “Is it always this . . . hot?”

  “Always.” Cinder shrugged. “You sort of get used to it.” She shook herself and pulled out the overdress she’d been cradling in her arms. It was a saturated coral, with pleated folds of linen draping handsomely. But what thrilled Elice more than anything was the style of the clothing—distinctly clannish.

  “Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

  Cinder smiled. “I’ll have more made. If you’re going to be here, you’ll look like the princess you are.”

  Elice pulled the overdress over her head, then tied her gold clan belt across her waist. Cinder parted Elice’s hair, braided it, and tied it off with a simple ribbon.

  When Cinder finished, Elice felt more like herself again. Unable to help herself, she gathered the other woman in her arms. “Thank you.”

  Cinder patted her awkwardly on the back. “So you’re pleased?”

  “Oh yes. I’ve never worn such beautiful garments before—and in such bright colors!”

  Cinder took a few steps back, toward the door. “Pleased enough to promise not to be angry?”

  Elice’s smile fell. “Why?”

  Cinder simply opened the door and stepped into the main room. Elice hesitated, suddenly loath to follow, but forced herself through the doorway. What she saw made her stop in her tracks.

  Relief washed through Adar to see Elice up and moving. But he didn’t dare approach her. Not yet. “Cinder told me you were asking about Sakari,” he said to her. “I wanted you to know she’s all right. I made sure of it before I left.”

  Elice’s eyes fluttered closed in relief, but then she said through clenched teeth, “Get out.”

  “Elly, let me explain.”

  “Get out!” She picked up a book from the shelf and hurled it at him. He wasn’t prepared for it and it hit him on his newly healed shoulder, sending a pulse of fresh pain through the joint. “Not the books, Elly!”

  She sent another one flying. This one, Adar ducked. “Don’t you dare call me Elly! My family and friends call me that—not you!”

  “Just let me explain—”

  With an enormous tome in hand, she marched toward him. He backed toward the door, hands up. “Elly—Elice, I don’t blame you for being angry, but—”

  “I never want to see you again.” She wound up and flung the book at him.

  Bracing himself, Adar ducked so that the blow hit his upper arm instead of his head. “Don’t hit me again,” he warned.

  She glared at him, panting. “I hate you.”

  “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to fall in love with the woman I was supposed to deceive? It’s not fair, to either of us—”

  Elice’s fist shot out, but he sidestepped the blow, took her arm, and jerked her forward, then used his leg to trip her. But she twisted out of it and hooked her elbow into Adar’s back. He pivoted and wrapped an arm around her to take her to the floor. She started to scramble out of his hold. He shifted, gripping her tight. Elice was good, but out of practice, which was fortunate, because she’d very nearly had him.

  “I had my reasons,” he panted. “If you’d just listen.”

  She struggled against him. “There’s never a good reason to trick someone into falling in love with you.”

  “I didn’t trick�
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  She threw her elbow back, hitting him between the legs. All the breath was forced from his lungs. White-hot waves of pain shot upward until he thought he would vomit. He broke out in a sweat. A moan escaped him as he curled into a ball. Hearing Elice scramble up to stand over him, he imagined her fierce expression. For a moment, he wondered if she would kill him.

  Cinder inserted herself between them. “Adar, get out.”

  “I’m never . . . going to be able to have children,” he managed.

  Not taking her eyes off Elice, Cinder bent down and helped him up. “Go.”

  Sucking in a breath, he staggered to the door. He pulled it open and stepped out, wanting to slam it behind him, but unable to use that much force. Then he sagged against the wall, waiting for the pain and dizziness to recede enough that he could move down the blasted stairs. Next time he wouldn’t ditch the guards his mother had insisted on.

  When he heard the soft sounds of weeping from the other side of the door, Adar’s anger melted away. His eyes slipped closed. If she wouldn’t even speak to him, how was he supposed to get her to declare her love for him? How could he possibly get her out of here alive?

  His gut wrenched. Elice was going to die. And it was all his fault. Moving gingerly, he made his way down the stairs and behind the palace. Waves of pain still swept from his crotch up his abdomen, but it wasn’t as sharp. Wishing for some of the ice from the winter queendom, he stood at the edge of the fountain and stared out over the city, trying to think of something, anything that would save Elice.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before he realized he was being watched. As if sensing she’d been noticed, one of his younger sisters stepped into view. Carrying their youngest sibling, their sister Mahin, on her hip, Zahra wore a long robe and veil, so only her eyes showed. Eyes that brimmed with tears she angrily blinked back. “You’re home and you didn’t even come to see me?”

  Adar let out a defeated sigh. “I can’t seem to do anything right, Zahra.”

  More of his siblings popped into view. The boys, Navid and Omid, reached him first. They swarmed him, hugging and tugging and jostling and speaking all at once. The girls, Yasmin and Laleh, were a beat behind. Hunched protectively around his injury, Adar hugged them carefully.

  “Where is everyone else?” he asked.

  “Javed, Roshan, and Bahadur are at weapons practice. Father said I can start practicing with them this winter,” Navid declared proudly, while Omid turned sullen.

  “Nahid, Parvaneh, and Shirin said if you wanted to see them, you had to come to the palace to do it,” Zahra grumbled.

  She marched toward Adar. He reached for Mahin, but she shrank away from him. Had his baby sister forgotten him already? Zahra angled her body so she was between him and the baby. “When the other ship came back without you, I was sure you were dead—we all were.” She said the last bit with a betrayed glare at their siblings—probably for betraying her anger by hugging him. “Then I heard you’d been found and were coming home. You didn’t even bother to come see me. To see any of us. We’ve been searching for you all day.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just . . .” Adar stared at his feet. “You know the girl I was supposed to bring back?”

  “The winter princess,” Nahid said with round eyes.

  Yasmin shuddered. “Was she horrible and ugly?”

  Adar gave them a stern look. “She isn’t anything like we thought. She’s beautiful and smart and kind and . . .” She’s going to die, he finished in his head, reminding himself that Zahra, at thirteen, was the oldest.

  Zahra moved slowly toward him. “You like her?”

  “Why would you like her?” Javed asked. “Her mother killed half of our countrymen.”

  Adar sighed. “But Elice didn’t. She was only a baby like Mahin when that happened.” His gaze went back to Zahra. “She’s very angry that I tricked her into coming here.”

  Zahra studied him with a gaze that seemed much older than her years. “So apologize.”

  “I tried. She won’t listen to me.”

  “Give her some time.”

  Adar shook his head. “I don’t have time.”

  “It’s not like she’s going anywhere,” Zahra said dryly.

  Adar choked, fighting back the despair. “I made a deal with Mother.”

  Zahra’s eyes widened. She turned to their siblings and handed Mahin to Nahid. “All of you head back to the palace.”

  Nahid gaped at Adar. “Why would you make a deal with her?” Like Zahra, Nahid was old enough to understand what Adar had done.

  Before Adar could answer, Zahra started shooing their young brothers and sisters toward the palace. “Move it. Go!” When they’d finally scampered off, she whirled around and punched Adar in the arm. “You know better than to make deals with fairies.”

  “I had no choice. Elice has three days to admit she’s in love with me. That’s the bargain I made. It was the best I could do to save her life.”

  “You fell in love with her,” Zahra gasped.

  Miserable, Adar dropped his head. “I couldn’t help it. It just happened.”

  “Does she love you back?”

  He took a long breath and let it out slowly. “I think she might have.”

  “Would seeing me—would that change her mind?” Zahra whispered after moving a step closer.

  “It might.”

  “Take me to her.”

  Adar stared at his sister. If Elice could see what the Sundering had done to Zahra, maybe she would believe him. But he knew what this would cost his sister. “Zahra, are you sure?”

  She gave a determined smile. “It’s not like I haven’t endured worse.”

  At the sound of voices in the other room, Elice left the bland food she’d been picking and tiptoed to the door.

  “I don’t think she’s ready.” It was Cinder’s voice.

  “There isn’t time for her to be ready.”

  Adar was back so soon? Elice balled her hands into fists. It had been very satisfying to hit him. She wouldn’t mind doing it again.

  “Adar . . .”

  “I only have three days, Cinder.”

  Three days for what? Elice wondered. A beat of silence, and then footsteps moved toward the door. She stepped back, arms crossed over her stomach. Cinder slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

  “I won’t talk to him,” Elice told her.

  Cinder leaned against the closed door. “I think you should.”

  Elice shot her a glare. “Why?”

  “Because he’ll keep coming back until he says whatever it is he needs to say. The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can be done.”

  Elice considered for a moment. Then she sighed and reached around Cinder to jerk open the door. “I told you, I—” The words choked in her throat. Adar wasn’t alone. There was someone with him, a small person partially hidden behind him as if afraid of Elice. In addition, a pair of guards stood farther back.

  Adar leaned toward the other person and said, “This is the girl I was telling you about.”

  The person straightened and came out from behind him. “My name is Zahra,” she said with a slight lisp. Judging by her voice and slight build, she was a young girl. She was covered from head to toe in fine linen, with only her eyes revealed. She took another step forward. “I want to show you something.”

  Elice worked her tongue inside her dry mouth and shifted her gaze to Adar. “What kind of trick is this?”

  “It’s not a trick,” Zahra answered.

  Elice’s gaze settled on the girl. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “He’ll leave as soon as you promise not to hurt me or run away,” Zahra said.

  Elice gritted her teeth, disgusted that Adar would use a child as a go-between. “Will he promise to leave me alone after this?”

  Zahra sent Adar a questioning look, but his gaze was pinned on Elice. “If you refuse to see me after this, I’ll stay away,” he said.

&nbs
p; Elice considered for a moment. “Then I promise to behave.”

  Adar turned and left without another word. Elice found herself glaring at his retreating figure and feeling darkly satisfied at how stiffly he moved. Cinder stepped up beside Elice and said softly, “She’s a sweet girl—only thirteen—and she’s been through a lot. Be kind to her.”

  Zahra motioned for Elice to follow her. An unreasonable fear pulsed through Elice, causing her to hesitate before moving to obey. Beyond the door, she was still surrounded by books. She stepped out to find stairs spiraling down, down, down. She stepped carefully to the edge and saw a long drop that ended in a hard stone floor. She stepped back, her arm coming up against the cool stone walls.

  Zahra watched her, sympathy in her gaze. “Stick to the outside and you’ll be fine.”

  Straightening her shoulders, Elice picked up her dress and started down the stairs, staying exactly in the middle to show the other girl she wasn’t afraid. At the bottom of the stairs stood two guards. They didn’t acknowledge Elice and Zahra as they passed, but Elice felt their eyes on her.

  She found herself in a round room with a mosaic floor of a phoenix rising from the ashes. There were more books—hundreds of them—and long tables littered with lamps that looked like slender, long teapots, with flames sputtering out instead of tea.

  Zahra stepped up beside her. “This way.”

  Elice glanced back at the two guards trailing behind. She hurried to catch up to Zahra. They stepped past an intricately carved door—mermaids in a churning sea. The sunlight blinded Elice and she squinted, her hand automatically rising to shield her eyes. She gazed up toward the sun and blinked. Though she couldn’t look at it directly, it was obviously much bigger than in the queendom. And far too high in the sky. Elice could feel the heat baking her skin, seeping into her pores. She took another step forward and was shocked to feel the heat burning through the soles of her sandals.

  Before her loomed the palace, a monstrous structure with lacy arches and golden onion domes. Without the power of winter, Elice couldn’t imagine how many years it had taken to construct. Zahra was waiting patiently a few steps ahead. “My brother wanted me to warn you that if you run, you will be bound from here on out. He also said”—Zahra’s eyes scrunched up as if she were remembering—“that the queen’s fairies are always watching.”