by Amber Argyle
“A fairy’s kiss also has the power to kill,” she said.
His veins stood out on his neck. He stumbled, panic on his face.
She reached toward him. She felt no more enmity. He’d paid with his life. “Tell the dead the winter queen wishes them well. After all, we serve the same side of the Balance.” She pressed her fingers to the man’s neck and allowed her cold to surge into him.
He froze, a rictus of pain on his face. Ilyenna cocked her head to the side. Such a horrific sight. With a gentle push, she tipped him over. He shattered into a million pieces.
“Now he knows how it feels.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said the words, but they felt right.
The fire snapped in the hearth. It was making the room unbearably warm. Ilyenna held out her hand. Ice flowed from her palm, freezing the flames in place. “Ah,” she sighed. “Much better.”
But her relief over the man’s death was short lived. The fairies were still furious—unlike Ilyenna, their anger hadn’t been assuaged by his death. They wanted their own vengeance. Entwined as their minds were, their emotions overwhelmed her. Their need became hers.
She heard voices and turned. Qari, Tanyis, and Ursella flew into the room. Ilyenna let out a squeal of delight. Each of them came and pressed their lips to hers. Winter embraced her more tightly.
Qari, her wings like frost flowers, beamed. “Summer has withdrawn.”
“We are free to dance!” Tanyis fluttered her wings in excitement.
Beating her wings like shards of ice so fast they blurred, Ursella zoomed across the room and hovered above what remained of the dead man. Her tiny nose turned up in disgust. “Your kind will pay for that.”
Ilyenna heard the other fairies outside the window. They’d come quickly, filling the air with the sound of their wings. They’d brought the blizzard on their backs. If she didn’t let them release their anger, they’d be sullen all summer. “Very well,” she told them. “Let’s dance.”
She closed her eyes and let winter take her over, transforming her into a thousand flakes. She roared from the room. If any of the humans happened to look up, they’d only see the snowy outline of a woman raging through the heavens. Instead of wings, they’d only hear the rush of the wind, the clash of the flakes.
Calling the storm, she sped across the land. Her fairies joined her. But there was malice as they drove the storm. They sent the snow pelting against the buildings, howling down the chimneys to snuff out the fires. They pelted any wayfarers.
As they raged, Ilyenna happened over high mountains. She saw many, many men. At first, her fairies attacked them as they had the others. But for some reason, the sight of them made her memories churn beneath the frozen barrier that held them back.
A word bubbled up from the frozen ice that held the memories of her past life. Raiders.
Her fury built, piling up inside her like the snow on the ground. Her fairies reacted to her rage. Ilyenna forced her mouth open wide and swallowed the men, driving them into whatever shelter they could find. She rooted them out of hollowed logs, from beneath blankets. She showed no mercy, sending them to the dead in droves.
The more she raged, the more she became it. The cold and the storm enveloped her so completely she knew nothing but the storm, at one with her fairies’ shared fury.
When the men were buried beneath a thick layer of snow, she moved on, looking for others. She didn’t find many. Few caught out in the open had survived her initial fury. But she still wasn’t satiated. “Find more,” she ordered. The fairies fanned out, searching. Alone, she trolled the land. Then she saw a solitary traveler. She attacked, driving him back.
His horse ducked its head, its sides quivering. The man booted it, trying to drive it into the storm when it knew it needed to turn its tail to the wind and find others of its kind to huddle with for warmth.
Another cruel man. Ilyenna pummeled him again and again, until he finally abandoned the trembling horse and stumbled forward alone. Frustrated, she pulled back and blew with all her might. The wrappings around the man’s face caught in the wind. He reached out, trying to catch them, but her wind jerked them away. He turned his face to the storm.
She stopped short. Somehow, she knew this man. Something within her broke the barrier. Her fury faded as her memories floated free. She could see them all. But it was like looking at someone else’s life. Her past life. She remembered, but she felt nothing. She pulled away from winter, retaking her human form.
Using her wings that shimmered with the iridescence of an aurora, she fluttered curiously toward him. The man groaned, hunching unnaturally even for the cold. She came a little closer and a word came unbidden to her mind. “Rone.”
More memories swelled inside her, bursting into her mind so fast she nearly fell from the sky. As it was, she barely caught herself from crashing. Still, she landed with enough force to shatter human legs.
Ilyenna hurried forward. Rone lay face first in the snow, his eyes closed. Her emotions were still frozen. She felt no fear, no sadness. But she remembered him—remembered loving him. The memory alone was strong enough to drive her to save him. She bent down, drawing the cold from his body into her own.
His eyes fluttered open. “Ilyenna?” he asked.
“The Ilyenna you knew is dead,” she answered.
His head rolled back. She felt him again and sensed an unnatural heat in his body. “Fevered.” Her other life supplied the word. She added a bit of cold, just enough to make him feel right.
Other fairies arrived. Though they didn’t know the source of her new emotions, they felt them. Her compassion had swallowed their fury.
Holding the man called Rone in her arms, Ilyenna took to the skies. She found a house—the same one she remembered borrowing a draft horse from in her previous life—and landed on the doorstep. She knocked on the door. The humans inside opened it. They took one look at her and gaped, too afraid to even close the door.
Ilyenna shoved past them. She lay Rone down before the fire. Even the heat from those meager flames made her feel sick and wilted. She turned to find the humans gaping at her wings. Though she couldn’t resurrect any emotions, she remembered enough to understand how ethereal she must look to them. With a thought, she made her wings disappear.
They blinked in disbelief and begin to rationalize what they’d seen in low, harried voices.
Ilyenna dug around in her jumbled memories. It was like sifting through the contents of someone else’s life. Then she found the right memory. “He’s sick. I need qatcha. Do you know what it is?”
The woman shook her head.
“Garlic, oregano, and onions, simmered with a silver spoon, salt, and chicken organs.” Ilyenna recited. “I also need juice from crushed garlic. And clean rags.”
As she started pulling off Rone’s layers of clothing, she could smell the rot. Finally, she saw the source of the smell. The wound was swollen and red, obviously infected. “Give him whiskey. As much as he can hold.”
The woman knelt next to Ilyenna and began pouring whiskey down Rone’s throat by the spoonful. Ilyenna bathed the wound with whiskey while she waited for the alcohol to inebriate him. When his mumbling went from tight with pain to loose and random, she figured it was close enough.
She enlisted the help of the man and one of the older boys to hold Rone down. Pressing on the skin, she forced out the puss. Ilyenna rubbed and pushed and wiped and poured warm whiskey over the wound until only clear liquid and blood came out. Then she carefully separated the wound, sticking a silver spoon in sideways to keep it open. She scoured it with whiskey and a rag, cut off any dead tissue, and dripped pungent-smelling garlic juice inside.
Leaving in the spoon, Ilyenna left the wound open to the air. “Keep him warm, and keep as much of the qatcha down him as possible.” She started toward the door.
“Wait,” the woman cried.
Ilyenna turned expectantly.
“Where are you going?” The man asked. “That storm is no place for a woman
like you.”
Ilyenna smiled. “The storm is exactly the place for a woman like me.”
She stepped outside. With a thought, her wings appeared. She shot into the thinning clouds. She heard the door being thrown open behind her, heard the confused shout. But she was already in the clouds.
Chriel appeared. She’d obviously been waiting for her. “The man?”
Ilyenna shrugged. “I hope he lives.” At least, she thought she did. She felt regret for not loving him, but she didn’t think she was capable of love anymore. “My memories knew what to do to heal him. He’ll have to do the rest.”
Ilyenna felt it then, the press of summer against her. It was strong and unbearably hot. She couldn’t help but shrink before it.
Chriel looked to the south. “She’s much stronger than us. It’s her season.”
Ilyenna followed Chriel’s gaze and saw her, Leto, the summer queen. She had left when Ilyenna had begged for help, so that winter might come and restore Ilyenna.
Leto came to her with wings like maple leaves. They were trembling with the cold. In contrast, the heat made Ilyenna shudder. But in this half space between winter and summer, both could stand before each other for a brief time.
“Thank you,” Ilyenna said simply.
Leto smiled. “In years past, I’ve fought with winter. Perhaps with you, fighting will not be necessary.”
Ilyenna dipped her head in acquiescence. “I do not wish to fight you.”
Hesitantly, Leto bent forward and touched Ilyenna’s stomach. “Every year, I have a child. But winter never has. Strange.”
Ilyenna felt the life within her, still growing, still strong.
Leto withdrew her hand. “It is summer.”
Ilyenna understood. This was not her realm, not her time. Part of her wanted to fight, to stay and revel in winter a bit longer. She’d eventually lose, but she could draw out her time. Yet she respected the summer queen and was grateful for what the woman had done for her.
“Until summer ends, winter will not come again,” Ilyenna promised.
She called her fairies to her with a thought and sped away. Behind her, she felt summer’s heat spreading through her cold like a drop of milk in water.
26. Aurora
Ilyenna cut through the night sky in the form of an aurora. She pushed back winter’s borders, directing her warrior fairies to act as sentinels. There was no moon tonight, only sharp stars that pierced the sky behind her. She shimmered at the center of the aurora. She tried to press further south, but her strength was dissipating before summer’s power. It was as far as they would manage before the warmth of morning drove them back.
Ilyenna pulled herself back to her human form. The aurora condensed into her wings, which shimmered with color. An army of fairies took shape around her. The starlight gleamed dully off hundreds of their lithe bodies.
Ilyenna searched the forest below until she found a clearing to land in. She flared her wings, catching pockets of the wind to slow her descent. She landed gently on the ground, dry leaves crunching beneath her feet. Within moments, they were rimmed with frost. She crouched, letting her senses settle around her. In this land, the harvest was weak. Many of the trees had died from a late touch of winter. The animals would struggle to survive until next season. Even mankind, with their cursed fires, would find this winter a difficult one.
Ilyenna felt no joy or sorrow in their hardship. It was the way of the Balance. Good years and lean.
Her fairies awaited her orders. They had until morning and the day’s heat to do their work. “Prepare the land for winter,” she commanded.
Her frost fairies danced across the green leaves, sending tendrils of cold into the trees to warn them of winter’s coming.
Chriel and the rest of the creature fairies sought out the animals. Ilyenna heard their whispers. “Hurry, hurry. Eat and grow fat, for sleep and rest and cold are coming.”
Ilyenna watched as a rabbit lifted its nose to the air, listening to the fairies’ warnings. When it saw her, it darted away. Closing her eyes, Ilyenna sent ribbons of her power outward, pressing against summer. “It is my time,” she reminded Leto softly.
Ilyenna felt summer shiver. It instinctively dug deeper, trying to resist, but the season was shifting. Winter’s power spread farther by the day. Ilyenna slipped through the forest and came across some of her frost fairies working on an apple tree.
The winter queen cocked her head to the side. In the darkness, the tree seemed to be made of layers of shadow, but she made out the heavy globes weighing down the boughs so they trailed along the ground.
Reaching out, she pulled an apple free and held it to her lips. She breathed out, letting winter’s kiss sweeten the apple. She remembered promising Jablana that the winter fairies would spare her trees. It was a foolish promise to make. It went against the Balance.
But the promise had been made; there was no use in regret. Ilyenna bit into the apple, reveling in the cold sweetness on her tongue. She loved apples.
“My queen.”
Ilyenna turned to see one of her warrior fairies flying downward. He was naked except for a loincloth of fur. He held the tip of his spear against a summer fairy’s back. Ilyenna noted how careful he was not to touch her. Male fairies had no magic, and the heat from a summer fairy’s touch could kill him.
The fairy had her arms wrapped tightly around her body. She was shivering. Her translucent wings seemed wilted.
“What would you have us do with trespassers, my queen?”
As part of their treaty, the summer fairies were to retreat when winter came. This fairy had broken that treaty, and Ilyenna was within her rights to execute her. But she knew how possessive fairies were of the trees and animals they tended throughout the season. “Take her to her side of the border and let her go. Do the same with any others you find. Only fight them if you must.”
The warrior fairy bowed. “My queen.”
She watched him fly away. The land was frozen from a late winter storm, yet the apple trees remained. With a sudden flash of clarity, Ilyenna realized where she was. She tossed the apple to the base of the tree and flared her wings.
“My queen, we only have a few hours before the heat of the day drives us away,” Qari reminded her.
“I have something to attend to. Keep preparing for winter.”
Qari’s wings arched in question, but she bowed anyway.
Ilyenna pumped her wings, pushing herself into the air. She noted her fairies dancing joyously among the trees. A road flashed beneath her. She followed its winding path deeper into mankind’s holds.
Eventually she came to a village. She landed among the cairns of the dead. They walked on her side of the Balance and welcomed her presence. Ilyenna nodded a brief greeting and searched the windows of the clan house.
As if he sensed her, a man appeared. She could see his face bathed in the golden glow of a candle. Blinded by the light, he could not see her. His flesh was flushed and warm, full of life. Rone. He had survived. She remembered everything. But she was a force of nature now. A woman no longer.
Still, she watched him, fascinated. His pale hair was tied back. She wanted to loosen it and see for herself if it was as soft as she remembered. She recalled his kindness—sharing his food with her, gently caring for her wounds, foolishly risking his life again and again to save her. But most of all, she remembered his lips on hers, his hands on her body.
The word mankind used to describe what had been between them. Love.
Behind her, Ilyenna felt heat, as if she stood too close to a fire.
Another of her warrior fairies darted to her, his wings stiff with alarm. “My queen, Summer comes.”
Ilyenna nodded. “Let her come.”
The fairy took up a defensive position beside her. Other warriors came down, their ice spears gleaming in the night.
Heat blasted the winter fairies. They wilted before it.
Ilyenna flared her cold outward to protect them. Winter and summer m
ixed, creating a sudden gust of wind.
A nimbus of power arrived in front of Ilyenna. It condensed into a white-hot form that brought with it the smell of desert-baked sand and spices. That form darkened to Leto. She was heavy with child. Male summer fairies surrounded her, their spears made of dark wood instead of ice.
The summer queen smiled. “We meet again, Ilyenna.”
Ilyenna nodded. “Leto.”
The woman glanced at the house behind Ilyenna and smiled knowingly. “By nature, winter is cold and unyielding. But the woman you were before was not. She was the kindest woman I had ever seen, which is why I helped you become queen.”
Ilyenna wished Qari were here. She would know what the summer queen was hinting at. “Why do you tell me this?”
Leto smiled. “I have a consort, winter queen. You could as well.”
“A winter queen has never had a consort before,” Ilyenna said. Qari had made it clear that winter queens were too cold to feel something as fiery as love.
Leto rested a hand on her stomach. “Or a child.”
Ilyenna refused to look at the clan house again, refused to acknowledge the bitter regret that cankered inside her. How could she be surrounded by hundreds of fairies and still feel completely alone? “He would never survive.” Not in her castle made of ice.
“There is power in a fairy’s kiss.”
“A winter kiss?” Ilyenna eyed Leto carefully. “But what human would ever give up the power to dwell freely in both winter and summer?”
Leto nodded toward the clan house. “That man would.”
“Why would you tell me this?” Ilyenna asked, narrowing her gaze.
Leto smiled. “You spared my fairy. A kindness returned for a kindness given.” With that, the summer queen began to shine. She fragmented into swirls of light that withdrew with a sound like the wind through leaves.