Winter Queen

by Amber Argyle

  “You did a good job,” Ilyenna said. Her black hair hung to her waist, dotted with flowers. The dress’s blue was the color of the winter sky. Though the seams were a bit rough, it fit her well. It was snug across her bust and waist. There was no overdress—nothing to hide or distract. A clanwoman’s wedding dress was meant to show off the bride. Unfortunately, it made Ilyenna feel more vulnerable. She wished Rone could see her like this, with flowers in her loose hair.

  She wished it was him coming to her door. Instead, Metha left to tell Darrien that Ilyenna was ready.

  While Metha was gone, Varris’s gaze darted from the door to Ilyenna. “Listen to me, Ilyenna. Mother sent Riesen clanman to the border. They’re waiting for us.”

  Ilyenna bit her lip. “We’d never make it.”

  Varris gripped Ilyenna shoulders and shook her. “Rouse yourself, Ilyenna! I know you’re fighting the sadness. I know it’s overwhelmed you, but you have to keep trying! You can’t give up and go quietly.”

  Tears stung Ilyenna’s eyes. “How will I get away?”

  Varris gripped her knife and held it out, hilt first.

  “You want me to kill him?” Ilyenna gaped at the weapon. “They’ll hang me!”

  Varris shook her head. “Mother and I spoke with Clan Chief Burdin. You’re a clan mistress. Any crimes you commit will be tried before the Council. They would never convict you. In fact, they will claim you killed Darrien for treason.”

  Ilyenna tried to piece the fragments of her soul back together. “I’d have to escape first! There are Tyrans everywhere. How will I make it to the Council?”

  Varris nodded toward the stable. “I’ll have horses waiting. After Tyranholm sleeps, we’ll run for it.”

  Ilyenna took the knife and stared at it. It felt heavy in her hand. “I’m a healer, not a murderess.”

  Varris closed her hand over Ilyenna’s. “How many innocent people are dead because of Darrien? How many more will die if he lives? This is the only way the Council can do away with him without stirring up a civil war.”

  Ilyenna shot to her feet. “You’ve had this planned for days! Why did you wait until now to tell me this?”

  Varris winced.

  Ilyenna’s fingers tightened around the knife. “The Council planned this from the beginning.”

  Varris pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, Ilyenna. They’re just trying to save the lands.”

  Ilyenna threw her hands up. “They’re using me! If keeping me alive sparks the civil war they so fear, they’ll hang me anyway, despite their promises.”

  Varris went stiff. “That won’t happen. Mother and I would smuggle you out before it got to that point.”

  Ilyenna tipped back her head and laughed. “You really are as naive as I was. If you smuggle out a murderess, they’ll hang you in my place. Are you willing to risk that for me, Varris?”

  Tears filled the girl’s eyes. “I risked my life to come with you. And I’ll risk it again when we escape. Isn’t that enough?”

  Ilyenna’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

  A knock sounded. Ilyenna started and stared at the door.

  Varris took the knife and shoved it up Ilyenna’s sleeve. “The Council came up with a way to ensure your freedom. Take it.”

  Ilyenna waited for her emotions to drown her, for tears to well in her eyes. But nothing came except an immense sadness. When a man and a woman came together, they joined the opposite sides of the Balance, making a circle. The Link. Marriage to Darrien was anything but balanced. It was a mockery of what she’d had with Rone.

  The door flew open. Darrien gave a slight nod of approval and stepped inside. Ilyenna’s mouth suddenly went dry. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.

  He smiled wickedly at her. “You can come on your own or be dragged.”

  His obvious delight at the prospect finally did it. He would never touch her. Just before she left the house, she turned to look at Varris. The woman stood rooted to the spot, her face ashen. “Take it,” she mouthed.

  Ilyenna gave a slight nod. Walking past Darrien, she started toward the clan house. Already, twilight was coming on.

  He hurried to catch up. “Eager are we?”

  She wanted to vomit. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  He grabbed her arm, steering her away from the clan house. Just below his fingertips rested Varris’s knife. Ilyenna felt sweat bead her brow. If he felt it . . .

  But he hadn’t noticed it yet. “It’s not often a clan chief marries,” he said. “We have people to greet.”

  He was actually going through with the traditional parade? Would his foolishness never end? “Your clanmen are leaving for war, and you want them to celebrate? Give you gifts? Besides, as soon as the steward comes, you’ll be disposed.”

  “That,” Darrien said, his voice slung dangerously low, “will never happen.” He led her down a street.

  Little girls ran ahead of them, throwing flowers and shouting, “The bride comes!”

  People came to the doors. Women shouted well wishes, while the men called out innuendoes. Gifts were handed out, gifts which young boys carried ahead, shouting. More girls came from the houses to throw flowers at Ilyenna’s feet.

  It was all for show. Ilyenna could see fear in the clanwomen’s faces, and annoyance in the clanmen’s. The knife felt heavy above her wrist. “You’re just doing this to draw out my fear,” she said to Darrien.

  Turning down yet another street, he waved. “Of course, now smile.”

  She didn’t bother. He could pretend all he wanted, but she refused. “Don’t you understand? You’ve already taken everything,” she said. “You’ve nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to hold hostage.”

  They passed the last of the houses. The boys’ arms were loaded with gifts, everything from barrels of beer to burlap sacks of grain. Darrien bent down to her, his lips brushing her ear. Clanmen shouted and hooted at the sight. She felt his lips pull into a smile. “Everything? Oh, no. I have one more thing to take from you.”

  She smiled to herself and thought, Oh no you don’t. I already gave it to Rone. And you’ll die before you ever touch me. She longed to say the words out loud, to wipe the smile from his face.

  Just before they entered the clan house, Darrien turned to the crowd. Ilyenna saw Varris standing at the back, her hands crossed over her stomach. Darrien smiled at her as two men took up positions beside her. “Because you are an honored guest on this momentous day, Varris of the Riesen, I’ve ordered an honor guard to see to your safety and every need.”

  Varris’s hands dropped to her sides and her gaze met Ilyenna’s. Ilyenna’s head spun until she was sick. Darrien gripped her arm again, pulling her inside and shutting the door to the shouts outside.

  Ilyenna wondered how he’d known she and Varris were planning to escape—and if he already knew about the knife a finger’s breadth from his hand. As he pushed her up the ladder, Ilyenna noted Metha’s blankets rolled up beside the wall. Harrow’s basket lay next to it. This was Metha’s home. Her gifts. Harrow’s heritage. Ilyenna was a thief here.

  But she hadn’t taken away Metha’s place on purpose. At least the woman seemed to understand that now, though Ilyenna doubted Metha would ever forgive killing Darrien.

  Darrien opened the door to his room. Ilyenna was numb. Unfeeling. Dead. She felt the outline of the knife against her skin. She studied Darrien’s face, looking for any sign of humanity. “You don’t have to do this.”

  He grunted. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. Now, you can come in by yourself or screaming.”

  She stared into the room full of dead things and took a hesitant step forward. The rest weren’t so hard. She found herself beside the bed, staring out the window into the night sky. Could she really go through with killing him? What other choice did she have?

  “So, what can I do to rile you up?” Darrien asked. “I like you better when you’re feisty.”

  Yes, she could kill hi
m.

  He pulled her hair over her shoulder and began kissing her neck. She eased the knife down between her fingers.

  “What if I said you were right, that my father and I were in line with the Raiders? That they promised us all of the Shyle and Argon lands if we crippled your clans and kept the pass clear. Would that make you fight?”

  That explained why he’d taken a clan chief and two clan mistresses. A leaderless clan was a weak clan. Anger coursed through Ilyenna with such heat that she wondered how it didn’t consume her. She calmed herself before asking, “Then why bother with me?”

  Darrien slowly tugged at the laces at her shoulders. “If the Raiders fail, the Shyle will still be nearly destroyed. Of course I’d step in, take care of my wife’s clan. I’d have claim to.”

  “And if the Raiders defeat the clans, you’ll kill me?” she said.

  He chuckled. “No. I don’t think I will. You’re much too amusing to kill.”

  She thought of all the people dead because of Darrien, and how many more would die in the future. She wanted to fight him, to scratch his eyes out and feed them to him. Her insides quivered with rage. Spinning, she plunged the knife toward him.

  Darrien caught her arm and twisted it behind her back. She cried out in pain.

  He laughed. “Took you long enough to use that knife.”

  He tried to pull the knife from her, but she tightened her grip. He twisted her arm so hard he lifted her from the ground. She felt something tear in her shoulder. He jerked the knife from her hand and threw her on the bed.

  Her breath coming hard and fast, she stared at the knife in his hand. She’d failed.

  “I figured you’d try something like this,” Darrien said matter-of-factly. “I would have.”

  “I’ll tell the Council what you’ve done.”

  He shook his head. “By then, it will be too late. The Raiders will be here.” As he took a step toward her, a knock sounded at the door.

  “Not now!” Darrien shouted.

  “I’m sorry Clan Chief, but one of Burdin’s men has come from Shyle Pass. The Raiders are almost through, and their numbers are overwhelming. They’re calling for every able-bodied clanmen to move out as soon as word reaches them. You have to give the order now.”

  Darrien let out a low, guttural growl. “There’s no way my clanmen can be ready to move out tonight. Tomorrow. Maybe the next day.”

  “Clan Chief, the man has orders from Burdin himself.”

  Darrien ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  When the door slammed behind him, Ilyenna felt the first tremor. Then her whole body started to shake so hard she had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering. Using the dress, she scrubbed Darrien’s saliva from her neck and shoulder. Tears started down her face as she yanked the laces of her dress tight.

  She remembered Varris’s words, “Don’t stop fighting.”

  Ilyenna glanced around, looking for some kind of weapon. Then she remembered. Her clan belt still hung from a nail above the bed. She scrambled onto the bed, grabbed her belt, and jerked the knife out of its sheath.

  She heard Darrien coming. She whirled away and cradled the dagger to her breast, her heart throbbing in her chest.

  She flinched when the door banged open. He grabbed her from behind. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Ilyenna whirled and pressed the dagger into his middle. She tried to force herself to kill him, sink it into his flesh, but she just couldn’t.

  Darrien raised his hands. “We’ve been over this. You’re a healer, not a killer. Now give me the knife.” He reached for it.

  Ilyenna pushed harder. He backed away. She moved with him. “You keep forgetting I killed your brother.”

  Darrien’s expression hardened. “You kill me and they’ll hang you.”

  Ilyenna smiled. “I know.”

  He pivoted away from the knife and tried to bat her hand away. She braced herself and charged him. The knife slipped easily into his belly.

  He stared at the blood dripping down his shirt. “I—you—”

  She pulled out the knife. Blood gushed onto the floor. Ilyenna’s healer instincts kicked in. She could staunch it. If she’d missed his intestines, he might even survive.

  But she made no move to help him.

  Darrien collapsed onto the floor, blinking up at her. Ilyenna gaped at the bloody knife in her hands. She wanted to throw it away, but it was all that stood between her and Darrien.

  She imagined facing Metha in the morning. The Tyrans would kill Ilyenna. She glanced down at Darrien and realized he had either passed out or died. She threw the knife onto the bed and wiped her bloody hands on her wedding dress. She felt like she was suffocating. She threw open the window, gasping for breath. She looked down. Too far to jump, but not far enough to kill her.

  She closed her eyes and felt the warm breeze on her face. The smell of flowers was so strong. She’d only smelled them that strong twice before. Could it be? She peered into the gloom. Leto stood at the edge of the woods. She was plump now and her flesh seemed to glow with golden light.

  She was staring at Ilyenna with something close to fury in her gaze.

  “Please,” Ilyenna choked out. “Please help me.”

  A flash of pain crossed the summer queen’s ebony face. She began slowly backing away.

  “No!” Ilyenna gasped. “No! Come back!”

  Leto was gone. Somehow, Ilyenna knew the queen hadn’t just slipped into the forest—she had truly disappeared. Ilyenna could feel it. She leaned against the windowsill. For the first time, she almost wished she’d let Rone die.

  Hating herself for the thought, she let out a sob. She took a breath of the cold air. She felt the cold seeping into her skin, into her muscles. It felt so comforting, so good. Collapsed against the windowsill, she tried to come up with a plan. But she could see no way of escaping her fate. Truly the dead had marked her as their own.

  Her cries were so hard she didn’t hear it at first. It was a loud whisper before she finally swallowed a sob and listened. “Ilyenna.”

  She straightened and glanced around in shock. In a matter of moments, clouds had rolled in, covering the stars with threatening gray swirls. A frigid gust blew her hair behind her before enveloping the room. When had it turned so cold?

  “Ilyenna.”

  Leaning out the window, she looked up at the sky. A single snowflake sped toward her. Ilyenna’s heart stuttered. Could it really be one of the winter fairies, in the middle of summer?

  The snowflake twisted and twirled toward Ilyenna. She stretched out her hand. She didn’t know why, but she had to catch it. Suddenly, the snowflake shot forward and landed on Ilyenna’s hand.

  Some part of her was aware of Darrien bleeding on the floor, but the rest of her was focused on the snowflake. It didn’t melt, and hope soared in Ilyenna’s chest. Then the snowflake vanished. In its place was a tiny, ice-blue fairy with rabbit-fur wings. Chriel.

  Her voice sounded like singing crystals. “I know you, Ilyenna. Know you as I know the language of the storms, the frost flowers that bloom in the ice, the sleeping sighs of the bears in their caves. You think of yourself as a healer. But as a winter queen, you will become a destroyer.”

  Ilyenna could only stare at the terrible beauty of the fairy.

  Chriel fluttered her wings. “The powers of winter will allow you to save yourself and the ones you love. But there is a price. Before, you hadn’t become winter yet. To do so is to be reborn. And after that, you’ll never break free.”

  “I’ll no longer be human?” Ilyenna asked.

  Chriel cocked her thimble-sized head to the side. “You will give up your humanity. All of it—your memories, your emotions. You will be shattered, melted down, and reformed into something new.” The fairy paused, looking sad. “To save yourself and the ones you love, you will have to lose them.”

  Ilyenna thought of her clan. Even now, the Raiders were coming down the pass. High Chi
ef Burdin had called for every clanman in the lands. That meant it was bad. And the reinforcements might not make it in time.

  Ilyenna shook her head. “I’ve already lost them.”

  Chriel fluttered off Ilyenna’s palm and pressed her lips to Ilyenna’s.

  25. Winter’s Kiss

  With the power of an avalanche, winter raged in Ilyenna’s ears. Her already shattered soul was ground to powder and melted, then remade and reformed. She was Ilyenna no more. In an instant, winter had transformed her from a thinking, feeling woman into a force of nature. As cold and wind and snow embraced her, her fears and memories were frozen beneath a thick layer of ice.

  She stood, reveling in her power and her oneness with winter. Her connection with millions of winter fairies snapped into place. She felt their joy at reuniting with her, their thrill at the chance for an early summer storm. They were an extension of herself. Their emotions were her own. The beating of her heart fell into rhythm with theirs.

  Hefting her skirts, she stepped onto the sill.

  Rough hands pulled her back. “I knew you had magic! I knew it. You will share it with me.”

  A man pointed a bloodied knife at her. She blinked at him, an unnamed distaste on her tongue. Who was he? What madness made him think he had the right to threaten her, the winter queen? But she was not one for violence. Especially against one so weak. “You don’t want my anger, human.”

  He shook her. “Heal me!”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t try my patience.”

  He shoved the knife under her chin. “I’m dying. Heal me or I’ll take you with me.”

  As one, Ilyenna felt the fairies’ emotions turn with hers, from playful to rage. That rage roared in her ears like a thousand blizzards. “A fairy’s kiss has the power to heal,” she said.

  The man hesitated as if some part of him sensed his peril, but then he grasped Ilyenna’s head and pulled her mouth to his. When their lips met, she breathed out a full blizzard.

  One snowflake was nothing dangerous, but Ilyenna spit out thousands. The man coughed and sputtered as they invaded his lungs. He tried to push away from her, but she held him fast, filling him with wind cold enough to freeze the sap in the trees. When she finally released him, a ring of hoarfrost coated his mouth. His lips were blue, and jagged bits of ice hung from his chin. His eyes wide, he clutched his throat, his mouth working like a fish. He no longer had the ability to draw breath, for she had frozen his lungs.