Spring Frost (3 page)

          “What’s going on?” Logan crouched down beside Kian. “Why isn’t it working? She’s not healing! What’s happening?” He too was stifling back sobs. My heart ached for both of them – for the two men I had loved. For the two men who shared my heart – both of whom would always have it. Only minutes ago we had been fighting – only minutes ago, I had been angry with both of them; they had both been angry with each other. But now Kian and Logan were each trying to hold my hand, grieving side by side, their rivalry forgotten. They remembered only love.

          “She’s been poisoned,” Rose said in a small voice. “I think that’s what’s happened. The magic in that dagger – it was strong magic, the kind that can instantly kill fey. It’s not just the wound that’s the problem. Poisonous dark magic has made its way into her body – you can see here, her blood’s turning black.”

          “By the sword of Calthon!” Kian buried his face in his hands. “Is there nothing we can do? Can’t you heal her?”

          Rose looked uncertain. “I’ll try,” she said, color spreading to her cheeks. “But I don’t know what good it will do. When a poison as powerful as this one is dealt out, often the only antidote can come from the source.”

          “You mean the Sorceress?” Logan said darkly. “I should have slain her on the spot – I should have known…I shouldn’t have tried to save Clariss, should have never given her the chance…”

          “It’s not your fault.” Kian’s words were hollow, empty. “You couldn’t have known. None of us could have known.” He looked up at Rose with black eyes smeared with crying. “Can we stop it from getting worse, Rose? Even if we can’t heal her altogether – is there any way we can contain the damage?” He sighed heavily as he turned to Logan. “Logan, my Winter magic is failing me. Is there nothing you or your kind can do?”

          “No!” Logan almost spat. “No – we Wolf Fey have no magic at all.” He bit his lip. “And I have never been more bitterly ashamed of that than at this moment – when I would give everything I have to be able to heal her.”

          “Kian!” I wanted to call out. “Don’t use your Winter magic – use our combine magic! Maybe that will….only that will…” I closed my eyes. Wherever I was – stuck between life and death – I had to make it back into my own body. I had to will myself to stay alive moments longer. A strange, calm feeling had come over me – as if I had been drugged. A part of me wanted to float off, to float away from this scene: from the stress, from the pain. Just leave my body behind and float to wherever Feyland was calling me next. How easy it would have been, I felt – just to let myself float away…

          But then I caught sight of Kian’s face. Of his tears, which watered the earth. Of the silver streaks upon his face. No – I couldn’t leave him. I couldn’t leave my love behind. I had to fight it; I had to fight this feeling. I had to stay strong, to stay alive, to get back into my own body. I closed my eyes, concentrating every force of my being, trying to find the power within me: the orange flames of Summer, the heat that was the source of my power.

          I felt something rip within my soul – a great tearing power that coursed through me all at once, obliterating everything else.

          Suddenly my eyes shot open. “Kian!” I started.

          “Breena – you’re conscious!”

          I was in my own body again. My own heavy, earthly body. Able to speak. Able to look into Kian’s beautiful blue eyes….

          “Kian, I’m so sorry…I love you so much….”

          “Stay with me, Breena!” He held my hand to his chest; Logan was holding my other hand to his lips.

          “Our combined power…” I whispered. “Summer and Winter together.” I winced in pain; I could feel the knife-wound now more profoundly than before. I could feel the poison burning my blood from the inside out. “Try again, Kian, I’ll try too.”

          Kian’s hands worked their way up and down my body, trying desperately to restore circulation to me. Blue flames appeared again at his fingertips. I closed my eyes, willing my own orange fire to appear.

          “Try harder, Breena!” Logan was saying. “Try to live – want to live…”

          Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I heard a hazy voice, barely louder than an echo. The voices I had heard back in the Kingdom of the Dead: the Queens of Feyland.

          “Now is not your time, Breena. Breena, you must be strong. Breena, you must survive. You must live – for Feyland. Be strong, Breena. Be true!”

          I closed my eyes, willing my body to obey me. Trying to tap into the source of the powers of Feyland.
I will not be defeated
, I told myself.
Not by Clariss. Not by the Sorceress. Not by anyone else. Feyland needs me.
In the distance, I caught sight of the two suns of Feyland, rising slowly into the sky, spreading out their gorgeous sunbeams across the mountainside.
We saved Feyland once
, I thought to myself.
We must do it again. They need us. They will always need us.

           
“Breena, please try!” Kian pressed his lips to mine. His touch warmed me; it electrified me. It gave me strength. Suddenly, slowly, orange flames began to appear at the edges of my body, circling around my wound. Fire began to surround him, too: the silvery arctic blue of the Winter Fey. And his fire melded with mine – orange and blue, gold and silver – until we could not distinguish our two flames, but instead burned only with a single bright passion. A single love.

          I screamed with pain. I could feel the force of the magic rip through me like an earthquake. But I didn’t let go of Kian’s hand. I didn’t turn my gaze from his.

          The blue and orange flames seemed to cocoon me, to keep me safe. They began to soothe the pain in my stomach; the wound began to close, until all that was left was a single, jagged black scar. The bleeding had stopped. I looked down: there was color in my wrists again.

          The glowing stopped, and I fell back into Kian’s arms.

          “Breena, are you okay?” Kian was covering my face with kisses, his joy feeding my own.

          “Yeah – I think so. For now….”

          I could see Logan standing a few feet away. I could see upon his face a mixture of joy and pain. Relief – that I was not dead. And agony – that his arms were not the ones I fell into, not the ones that cradled me as I returned to life. I saw Rose tiptoe to Logan’s side, her face troubled, too. She put out a hand upon his arm; he jerked up in surprise.

          “She’s stable,” Rose was saying, forcing out a smile. “Don’t worry, Logan. We’ve slowed down the damage. Now we can focus on making her well.” She brushed a stray hair out of Logan’s eyes. “I’ll do my best to heal her.”

          Logan nodded, wiping away his tears.

          Rose knelt beside me. “I’m going to put you to sleep now, Breena. So we can start to work on healing you. Just rest, okay? Just relax.”

          I nodded, still exhausted.

          Rose put her hands upon the black scar, white flames shooting from her fingertips. Neither cold nor hot, these flames were comforting. Pure. Around them the air smelled like jasmine and honeysuckle. I felt a reassuring sense of warmth – like hot cocoa – course through me. My muscles began to relax; I leaned my head in Kian’s lap.

          “Just close your eyes, Breena,” Rose was saying.

          I could have smiled to myself. Rose had become quite the alchemist, I thought to myself. I reminded myself to tell her so – but it was too late. Sleep had already wrapped its dark arms about me. I would tell her in the morning.

Chapter 3

         
I
woke up the smell of baking bread. Its warm, slightly sweet aroma filled my nostrils, flooding my consciousness with light and heat. I could almost taste the savory crust on the tip of my tongue. My skin felt pleasantly warm, as if I had bathed in the hot springs of Winter Peak; the whole room was glowing. My eyes were closed, but I could sense the golden warmth of the room from behind my eyelids. My whole body ached, but it was a pleasant ache – a slow progress from exhaustion to energy. I opened my eyes slowly, stretching every inch of my body out upon the soft pillows. I looked around, hazy with confusion. This wasn't a place I recognized – I had never been here before. Golden fabric adorned the room; bright silk tapestries hung down from the beamed wooden ceilings. I recognized the stories depicted on them – tales of the great heroes and heroines of Feyland like the first Queen and Panthea and Calthon – tales that I had grown to devour during my time in Feyland. I traced the outline of each sumptuous form with my eyes, looking at the tapestries and taking in their beauty

          “Breena?” The voice was soft and caressing. It was a light, lilting woman's voice. Immediately I turned my head in the direction of the sound.      

          “Oh, you're awake!” It was Rose, her long red hair plaited in braids upon her head. She had a cool compressing cloth in her hand, and was wearing the crisp white robes of the royal nurses. “Thank goodness – it's been long enough. I'll go notify King Kian right away – he's been so worried.” She leaped to her feet, tossing back her violently red hair. She looked older, I thought. More womanly, somehow. I'd never noticed before that Rose was beautiful – to me, she'd always been younger, a child. But now she looked more confident, more self-assured. A certain grace shone through her every motion. I smiled to myself. Time really was going by quickly in Feyland – even little Rose was now a woman in her own right.

          She turned to go, but I stopped her. My mind was racing with unanswered questions. “Wait, Rose,” I called. “Where are we? Where is everyone – what's going on? I don't know this place.”

          Rose's mouth widened in a kind and gentle smile. “No need to worry, my Queen. Everything is all right. We are safe here. We are in the castle of the Duke of Autumn Springs. He has placed us under his protection while you recover.”

          “Autumn Springs...” Where had I heard that name before? “Isn't that where Alistair's from? Is it Alistair's father we're staying with?” I thought back, but the memories were hazy. “I've heard tell of this great place.”

          “Not his father, my Queen, but rather his uncle. His father is the younger brother of the Duke, and died when Alistair was very young. Alistair is being raised to be the Duke's heir – and heir to the title. Of course, it's not the same as being a Duke anywhere else.”

          “Of course not.” Autumn Springs, I knew, was technically independent from Feyland – it had been ever since the Wars of the Leaves two hundred years ago. Technically I had no sovereignty here – the highest rulers were the independent Dukes of Autumn Springs. They had more power than almost anyone else in Feyland. And – more importantly – they had been neutral in the wars between Winter and Summer, refusing to affiliate even with Autumn proper. As a result, they had become a prosperous center of trade as war refugees began to set up shop and start trading inside the boundaries of the Springs.

          “We didn't want to spread word you were ill to your own kingdom,” Rose said. “News might have gotten out – and enough people want your power that we didn't think it was a good idea to start bandying rumors about. So Alistair's uncle....”

          “Is this where you met Alistair, then?” I asked. I watched with surprise how Rose's creamy cheeks turned blazing red. She blushed and did not meet my eyes. “No – no,” she said, casting her eyes down to the floor. “This is actually my second time here in Autumn Springs. I've actually been here before when I visited Alistair after he left the Summer Kingdom because of this...incident...with the Pixies. But when I met Alistair, it wasn't here. It was in the Summer Kingdom.”

          “You two seem to know each other awfully well,” I said, unable to resist a smile as Rose awkwardly began patting my forehead with the cool cloth. “I was wondering why he doesn't seem to notice anyone else the second you walk into the room. I didn't realize you knew each other so well.”