by Amber Argyle
The food she’d eaten rose in her throat. Rone passed her the waterskin. She drank noisily and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He handed her a hollowed-out knot of wood with a cloth tied over it. “Mother mixed the witch hazel with some lanolin she pilfered from the kitchen. If you like, I could help you put it on.”
Ilyenna studied him for a moment before turning and pulling back her hair.
“I’m sorry my hands are so rough,” he said as he began rubbing the balm on her back. She clenched her teeth, expecting pain. But everywhere he touched seemed to sigh in relief. She found herself longing for his hands to stray from her back. She held very still, forcing herself not to think about it. They were already in enough danger.
When Rone had finished, he gathered up the rag but left the little bowl. “How long will Darrien make you stay here?”
Ilyenna shrugged helplessly.
Rone looked away. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring you a blanket. I’ll get you one.”
“I’m all right,” she replied. “I haven’t been cold.”
He studied her disbelievingly before getting to his feet. “I’ll figure out how to bring one before night comes.”
She could see it in his eyes. He planned on coming every evening to check on her until Darrien let her go. She understood the risk he was taking. If she were half as honorable as she’d like to think, she’d protest. But she couldn’t bring herself to. If she didn’t have something or someone to hold onto, she might go insane or worse.
She watched Rone climb down the ladder, the ghost of his touch still thick on her skin. Did he take care of her simply because he had adopted her into the Argon clan, or was there something more? She wanted more. She had for a long time, but he still thought of her as a little sister. And he probably always would.
10. Summer Queen
Footsteps sounded in Darrien’s room and up the ladder. Shuddering violently, Ilyenna drew her knees under her and waited. Bennis threw open the attic door and shot her a look of contempt. “Metha has twice the load of dishes for you to wash today.” She tromped back down the ladder and left.
Ilyenna nearly collapsed in relief. As brave as she tried to be, whenever she heard Darrien below, terror’s cold fingers danced up her spine. Glancing down the ladder, she saw the gray light of dawn touching Darrien’s array of hunting trophies. But other than their long-dead corpses and the bed, the room was empty.
With her bruised leg throbbing and cramping, she climbed down the ladder. When she reached the bottom, she slowly stretched to her full height. Her body trembled as she made her legs support her weight. It had been two and a half days since she’d stood straight. But at least her back itched more than it hurt. She limped toward the door and made her way down to the kitchen.
Inside, Metha was kneading the small of her back with her fists. She sighed heavily and lifted the weight of her stomach.
Ilyenna’s eyes widened. Metha wasn’t just large. She was with child. Oh, she was still plenty plump, but Ilyenna now noted how puffy her face and hands were, no doubt made worse by working in the hot kitchen.
Keeping her gaze averted, Ilyenna strode to the basket of dishes and walked out the door before the woman had a chance to berate her. The movement worked her blood, warming the ache in her leg.
At the stream, she knelt on the mossy bank, the water soaking her knees. Ripping off a bit of the moss, she held it to her jaw, grunting as the pressure made the ache momentarily worse. She cupped her hands and brought water to her mouth. The water slipped through her fingers, wetting the front of her overdress.
She drank until she couldn’t hold any more. Then she just sat, not caring about chores or Metha. In the silence, Ilyenna thought she heard a song, the sound soft and gentle. The breeze seemed to carry the song over and around her. Then, strangely, the wind carried bits of leaves that must have been clinging to the trees and swirled them around the branches and across the muddy earth.
Ilyenna stared. Leaves of every shape and size were flying instead of falling. She lurched to her feet and squinted. Only then did she see them—wings attached to lithe bodies. Tiny legs instead of a single stem. Hundreds of summer fairies flitted around Ilyenna. Most were differing shades of green, but some were flowers. A few looked like animals, with furry wings or fangs. Ilyenna even caught site of one with antlers.
Unease pricked her scalp. She looked for the apple blossom fairy, but couldn’t make her out. “Jablana?”
The fairies froze, staring at her. Then, moving as one body, they all turned and flew away.
Ilyenna reached for them. “No, don’t go! Please.” But they were gone, leaving her alone again. An ache reawakened in Ilyenna’s soul. She folded her hands across her chest, instinctively trying to curl away from the pain. But it was inside her, and she couldn’t get away.
“I am told you are Ilyenna.” said a voice as sweet as honey.
Ilyenna whirled around. A shadowy form peered at her from behind a tree. A woman stepped into the light, but the shadow seemed to stick to her skin. She smiled, revealing teeth as white as pure snow. Her short black hair made swirling patterns about her regal head.
Sunlight, warm summer winds, and the smell of damp earth seemed to radiate from her, enveloping Ilyenna. The woman was as beautiful and intoxicating as the spring air filled with the scent of lilacs.
Ilyenna’s breath snagged in her throat. Just as she felt the winter fairies even when they were far away, just as she could see through the fairy’s glamour, she knew this was the summer queen. Unable to stop herself, Ilyenna reached out and touched the woman. Her skin was as warm as sun-baked rock.
To Ilyenna’s surprise, the darkness didn’t rub off. She remembered stories her brother had told her as a child—stories she’d long ago stopped believing in—about a race of people with skin as dark as charcoal. They lived far to the south, so far that no one knew if the rumors were real or stories. “You’re a Luathan,” she breathed.
“You would call me Leto.” She slowly circled Ilyenna, her gaze lingering on her bruised, blistered back. “And you are one of the clanwomen of the north. If I’m not mistaken, you also have some of the blood of the Highmen.”
Leto drifted around the clearing, stopping now and again to touch a leaf or to press her hands against the rough bark of a tree. Every plant she touched grew fatter. Blossoms opened. “Winter is over now,” she said to Ilyenna. “Did you know? Even in your high mountains, buds are forming on the trees, and crocus blossoms peek through the snow.”
The queen’s clothes were brown and slightly tattered. The bones of her wrists protruded as if she hadn’t had much to eat lately. But despite the queen’s somewhat ragged appearance, Ilyenna was afraid. She felt very much like they were two lions circling each other. And Ilyenna was too injured and weak for a fight.
As if guessing her thoughts, Leto spread her hands. “I came because Jablana thought you needed my help.”
Trying to fight the calming effects of the summer queen, Ilyenna shook her head. “Why would you help me?”
Leto met Ilyenna’s gaze. “Two reasons. The winter queen before you was cold and cruel and cunning. She fought me bitterly before retreating every spring, destroying so much tender new growth. So this year, I killed her.”
Ilyenna took a step back as she caught sight of a blistering heat in the woman’s dark eyes—heat that would suck all the moisture from Ilyenna’s bones and leave her as brittle as dead pine needles.
“You are not like her,” Leto went on. “You are strong and flexible, like a tree bending before a strong wind instead of standing fast and being broken in two.”
“Strong as stone, supple as a sapling,” Ilyenna whispered.
Leto nodded. “Yes. That is the saying of your people. And it is true of you.”
Ilyenna sucked in a deep breath. “So you wish to choose your enemy.”
Leto didn’t deny it.
“And the other reason?”
The summer queen turned her sea
ring gaze away. “For their queens, the fairies only take those crossing into death. Those who are strong and clever and beautiful. I was all of that and more before death came for me at the hands of those who should have been my friends.”
Their gazes met and Ilyenna saw deep empathy in Leto. Ilyenna felt herself softening, like snow seeping into the waiting ground. She thought of Rone, of her family, and a familiar ache rose up in her throat. “What if in the end, I choose not to become a winter queen? Would you still wish to help me?”
Leto tipped her head. “It is a chance I’m willing to take. But know that even as queens, we cannot upset the Balance. Our subjects are the fairies, not humans. I cannot risk directly interfering, but I will give you what aid I can.”
Leto held out her hand. On her palm was a delicate white flower with three petals and three sepals. The center of each petal was ringed with yellow and burgundy. “Only one elice flower blooms each spring. So delicate. And yet, one petal has the strength to heal even the direst injuries. Use them wisely, and they will keep you alive until winter comes again.”
Ilyenna’s eyes were riveted to the flower. She’d never seen its kind before, though as a healer, she’d assumed she knew almost every plant. She believed it might be some kind of lily. She reached out to take it, but Leto curled her hand around the petals and pulled back.
Ilyenna suddenly understood. “And the price?”
The summer queen smiled. “My people had a saying. ‘Trick a stranger and you gain an enemy; treat him fairly and you’ve gained a friend.’ All I ask, Winter Queen, is that you retreat at the appointed time and don’t stray into summer lands.”
Ilyenna hesitated. There was so much she didn’t understand. What if Leto was somehow trying to trick her? “And you will do the same?”
“Yes.” The word sent a shudder through the forest.
When Ilyenna still hesitated, Leto went on softly, “You have been marked. I can see the shadow clinging to your skin. You will not survive the summer without my help.”
Ilyenna reached for the flower.
“Say the word.”
Ilyenna closed her eyes. “Yes.”
The forest shuddered again.
A branch snapped behind Ilyenna and her gaze darted to the path leading to the clan house. Had Darrien followed her? Would he beat her again? She backed up, seeking the shadows the woman had emerged from. She turned to Leto. The woman had vanished. But in Ilyenna’s palm was the elice blossom. Entranced, Ilyenna studied it. She considered using it now, taking a petal and putting it in her mouth to heal herself, but she held the power to save three lives in her hands. She wouldn’t waste it on a bruised back.
“Ilyenna?”
She jumped at the voice, her hand straying to her belt knife before she realized Darrien had taken it, along with her belt. But it was Rone who came through the trees. She let out her breath in a gasp. She remembered her brother’s warning that she tell no one of the fairies. Quickly, she tucked the flower in her pocket. “You frightened me.”
“Sorry.” He glanced around cautiously before approaching her. He handed her a needle and thread. “Mother thought you might be tired of exposing your back.”
Ilyenna took the needle and fastened it to her dress. She hadn’t missed the disapproving way he looked at her bare skin. Always the protective brother. “Yes, your mother is very thoughtful.”
Rone’s brow furrowed as he studied her. “Very well. I don’t like having your back exposed, lovely as it is.”
She knelt next to the stream and shoved a bowl into the water. The water was so icy it should’ve made her arms ache all the way to her elbows, but the cold didn’t bother her. With a start, she realized she hadn’t felt cold since the first fairy kiss.
“So, will you sew it up?” Rone asked her.
Ilyenna pushed a bowl into the water and watched it fill. “I’ll have to do it tonight. Metha won’t let me have breakfast if I’m late.”
Waiting for the sound of his footsteps to announce his departure, she scooped up a handful of sand and began scouring the dishes. Finally, she said, “Shouldn’t you get back to building the new tiam house?”
“That’s the thing about gathering river stones—you have to find them at the river.” When she didn’t laugh, he sighed and squatted next to her. “I am the clan chief, Ilyenna. I’m responsible for my clan. I can’t help but feel responsible for the Shyle as well.”
Always the clan! Could he really be so blind? She scrubbed harder.
Rone rubbed his temples. “The others are getting by, but what about you? If you don’t submit, he’ll kill you. If you do submit, you’ll die inside. I don’t see another option. I have to kill him.”
Her chest heaving, Ilyenna shot to her feet, water dripping down her shins. Rone stood as well. She drew back her hand and slapped his face. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare, Rone. You’ve no right to give up and blame it on me!”
Clearly stunned, he rubbed his check. “I didn’t mean—”
She jabbed her finger into his chest. “If I can bear it, you can bear it.” Her voice broke as she realized what she was saying, but the image of Rone dead burned her far worse than the thought of Darrien’s bed. “If you lay one hand on Darrien, I’ll kill you myself.”
Rone’s eyes wide, he stepped back, his expression a mix of hurt and anger. “Whenever you’re upset, you lash out at me. The one person who’s risking everything to help you.” He spun around and strode away.
By the Balance, he was right. “I’m sorry,” she called after him, but he didn’t turn or slow. Biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood, she watched him go. She shoved the rest of the dishes into the stream and scrubbed without really caring if she got them clean or not. By the time she’d finished, she’d spent all her tears.
With the basket of clean dishes on her hip, she approached the clan house in time to see five riders gallop up and halt in front of the doors. Ilyenna inched closer. Just as the stable boy arrived to take the men’s horses, she caught sight of the knots on their belts—the Resien clan, whose lands lay to the south of the shyle. The two clans were close—almost as close as the Shyle and the Argons.
One of the Resien spotted her. “Ilyenna?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Could it be their clan chief? “Gen?”
He strode forward, his men following closely. His eyes lingered on her stained, tattered dress and bruised face. He pulled her around. “You’re back is bare, and beaten! What’ve they done to you?”
Undon burst out of the clan house. Gen squared his shoulders and marched over to him. “Undon, the Council has sent me to investigate your reparation.”
Undon glanced suspiciously at Ilyenna before resting his hand on Gen’s shoulder. “You’re welcome, Gen of the Resien. Come, have lamb and beer. You and your clanmen must be tired after your hard ride.”
Gen jerked out of Undon’s grasp. “I’m not here to observe the formalities. You’ve attacked two clans. We want to know why.” Gen’s expression said what his words didn’t. He didn’t think for a moment that Undon had a good reason.
Ilyenna’s heart raced with hope. Maybe she wouldn’t have to wait the full month. This could all be over today.
Undon’s gaze narrowed. “You come to my clan, Gen, making accusations and insulting my hospitality. But I excuse your anger and hold no grudge. If you’ll listen, you’ll understand.”
“Stop circling the cattle and put them in the pen!” Gen practically shouted.
Undon’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “Around the time of the first thaw, Seneth and his Argons attacked Tyran families living along the border between our lands. They stole everything, killed my people, and burned all the buildings.”
Ilyenna gaped. She didn’t believe a word of it.
“And what proof do you have that the Argons did this and not some roving band of thieves?” Gen asked.
Undon nodded to Bennis, who was peeking around the front door. She hurried out
and handed her father a charred clan belt and a bundle of blackened arrows, then disappeared back inside. Undon handed them to Gen. The Resien clan chief’s eyes widened.
“My clanmen found them among the charred remains of the houses,” Undon said, triumph glazing his bitter words. “That belt was on a man’s body. The arrows bear the Argon Fletcher’s marks. We followed the tracks into Argon lands. Would you like me to go on?”
Gen turned the clan belt and arrows over in his hands before handing them to the men behind him. “Why would the Argons attack you?”
Undon shrugged. “I’d tell you to ask Seneth, but since he’s dead, you’ll have to settle for his son. But don’t count on Rone’s honesty. He denied it when I asked him. I have him here to make sure he doesn’t cause more trouble.”
Gen’s eyebrows rose even higher. “He’s the Argon clan chief!”
“You think I should’ve let him roam free?” Undon’s voice slowly rose in volume. “He would’ve rounded up his clanmen and attacked more of my farms!”
Gen seemed to struggle to hold his tongue. His gaze flicked to Ilyenna. “The Shyle? What gave you the right to attack them?”
Not thinking, Ilyenna stepped forward, silently daring Undon to defend his actions.
Undon grimaced. “The Shyle interfered in the battle, killing many of my men. I retaliated.”
“How does that give you the right to take tiams?”
Undon took a threatening step forward. “The Shyle killed my men!”
“And you killed theirs. No tiams are granted for a battle death. That’s reserved for carelessness that leads to a death.”
Undon pointed toward the Shyle lands. “One of their clanmen pretended to surrender and then murdered my son!”
Ilyenna knew the truth, but fear stopped her tongue.
Gen glanced at Ilyenna again. “Why the clan mistress, Undon? What do you have to gain by stealing Otec’s daughter?”