Spring Frost (4 page)

          “Oh, not
very
well,” said Rose, with a blush that belied her words. “We were young apprentices together in the Summer Court years and years ago. We worked together in order to study to be alchemists.”

          “I see,” I said.       

          “You see what?” Rose looked startled – almost scared.

          “You know each other very well then.”

          “Well, I wouldn't say....” Rose shuffled in place. “Yes, I suppose so.”

          “Come on, Rose...” There was something about her awkward innocence that reminded me of myself when I was her age – she was so young, so unsure. Just as I had been. She deserved the confidence that Feyland had given me. “It's okay to like him back, you know.”

          “What?” Rose looked shocked.

          “It's okay to care for each other in that way. It's a good thing. There's no shame in that.” But Rose looked too embarrassed, so I decided to change the topic. “Anyway, how is Alistair doing? I know he was stricken quite badly by the Book of the Dark Sorceress before – is he better now? Last I saw him all his strength had gone.”

          Rose sighed deeply. “My Queen,” she began. “I am sorry to say that he has not fully recovered, although fortunately he is not as stricken as before. The Dark Sorceress's powers are strong. Even her book has powers of its own.” I could see from Rose's worried face how much she cared for Alistair, and I felt ashamed of teasing her. If Alistair's life still hung in the balance, the last thing Rose needed was to worry about her own love for him. But as Rose's face darkened, another blush came over her cheek. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then rapidly closed it again.

          “Rose?”

          “Yes, my Queen?” She did not meet my eyes.

          “Rose – is there something you're not telling me? About Alistair, I mean? I know you don't want to worry me, and that's very brave and noble of you, but I do want to help if I can. Because you can tell me anything, Rose. You don't have to worry about my feelings. It's important to tell me everything that has happened, if you can.”

          Rose swallowed hard, gulping. “Queen Breena,” she began.

          “Just Breena,” I put out a hand onto her shoulder. “You're Rodney's sister, after all – and he's always called me just Breena. You've saved my life more than once; you've saved Logan's life. I think you deserve to call me by my first name. After all, without you, Feyland would still be in darkness.”

          Rose exhaled sharply. “Okay, Breena,” she said. “It seems that...the magic of the book has some quite specific ill-effects. The Sorceress's magic doesn't kill all at once; rather it's a slow poison. And in Alistair's case, I fear the book has poisoned his mind. He seems fully recovered – at least, at first. But other times he seems...distracted. He forgets his words mid-sentence; I've heard him muttering to himself – or to invisible figures in the room. His eyes glaze over and I see such pain in them. I fear the book's influence is still upon him.”

          I nodded. “Very well,” I said. “Thank you for telling me, Rose. Listen – our first priority is to ensure everyone's safety. We have to be careful to ensure that Alistair doesn't harm himself – or anyone around him. Maybe we should install a sentry outside his bedroom door.”

          “Yes, Qu...Breena.” But Rose still looked uncomfortable – like there was something she was trying to keep from me.

          “What is it, Rose?” I sat up in bed. “You still seem...is there anything else you're not telling me?”

          “Like what?” Rose was a poor liar – I could see it in her eyes.

          “You seem fully recovered, it is true. Like Alistair...” Rose faltered, and I saw where this was going.

          “But I'm not?”

          “I don't know. The Sorceress's magic powers are so very strong. And the poison in that dagger was intense. I'm afraid, Breena...I'm afraid the poison isn't done with you yet. It hasn't manifested itself yet, but it could...”

          Rose turned around, and instantly I saw the glint of the knife in her hand. My heart started pounding as I leaped from my bed. Rose, too, under the influence of the Dark Sorceress? Little Rose? I couldn't believe it. I grabbed Rose and wrestled her to the floor; the knife dropped and slid across the stone floor. “Dark Sorceress!” I cried out, my voice full of rage, “you will not take her! Your quarrel is with me...”

          “Breena!” Rose was calling in a small voice. “Breena, calm down!” She was pinned to the ground beneath me, shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind. “Breena, it's me, Rose. I'm not trying to hurt you.”

          I sat up, looking at her with shock. Rose was staring at me in terror. “
I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you...”      

          “No, it's fine.” Now it was my turn to blush. Why had I reacted so quickly with anger – reacted so violently? Rose didn't look injured, thank goodness, but she was certainly shaken. Her skin was chalk-white and she could not meet my eyes. “I just got spooked, after what happened to Alistair. Why did you have that knife?”

          “I had to show you...” Rose said. “I needed to see...”

          “See what?”

          “The poison.” Rose looked downcast. “I'm sorry, I should have warned you. But I was afraid.” She slowly made her way towards the knife. “May I show you, Breena?”

          “What do you need a knife to show me the poison for?”

          “I'm so sorry, Breena.” Rose's voice trembled. “I need you to give me the palm of your hand. It'll only be a little prick.”

          Rose and I stared at each other for a while. I hesitated, but the kind look in her eyes told me that she was telling the truth – the Dark Sorceress had no power over her. I held out my palm to hers. She picked up the knife gingerly and – with an apologetic look in her eyes – lightly pricked the skin at my palm.

          I winced as a small wound opened up in my hand. But as I looked more closely at the injury, my pain turned to panic, to fear. The blood that dripped from my injury was no longer silver. Instead – streaming in rivulets down my wrist – it was a sickly, blue-tinted shade of green.

Chapter 4

         
T
he whole room began to shake and shift. I put out a hand to steady myself, getting greenish blue blood on the creamy white bed sheets. My heart was beating so loud that I could barely hear Rose's cries of “Breena!” over the din. I could feel my whole body shaking with fear, shock, and confusion. The change in blood color could come from only one reason – a change in identity, a change in the most fundamental and basic level of magic. Humans had red blood; fairies had silver blood. The color of the blood was part of the deepest magical identity. And the only creatures I'd ever heard of who had green-blue blood were...

          “Rose...” my voice was shaking so that I could barely speak. “Is it true? Am I....a pixie?”   

          Rose was silent for a while. “You don't look like a pixie, Breena,” she said at last. “Your skin and features are unchanged; your ears aren't pointed. You don't have the appearance of a pixie.”

          “Nor the smell of one!” A kindly male voice broke the silence.

          “Logan?”
          I looked up and smiled with involuntary relief. “You knew?”

          He sat down beside me, grinning at me as he took my hand. “Rose just told us she suspected – the blood on your clothes when you were wounded had gone a funny color...but don't worry. If you were a pixie I'd have smelled you from the corridor.” The bags under Logan's eyes testified to many worried and sleepless nights, but somehow he still managed to look like the bright morning sun – radiant and energetic. His joy at my recovery was clear in his eyes – as he took my hand, I could feel the warmth of his skin coursing through me, comforting me. I was a little less frightened now.

          Rose turned an even brighter shade of red; her face now resembled little so much as a tomato from the Summer Valley farms. “I've – uh – got to go get the King...” she stumbled over her words. “Make sure he knows she’s awake....”

          She nearly tripped over a bronze statue of Calthon as she exited the room. Logan took my hands in his and looked up at me smilingly. “Hello there, Bree.” He pushed the hair out of my eyes, lightly tapping me on the nose to make me smile. “Not panicking too much, I hope.”

          “I don't know...” I admitted. “The Dark Sorceress sounds like a pretty powerful person...”

          “Not to worry.” Logan squeezed my hand. “We'll get her. We'll fix you. We'll get through this – just as we always do.” He sighed heavily. “Oh, Bree – I was so worried about you when Clariss stabbed you. I kept torturing myself, thinking
what if I had prevented it?
What if I had seen it coming – to throw myself in the dagger's path. Instead I tried to save her, to talk her down. I should have known she was evil – I should have known to watch our back. Instead I saw Clariss, just this girl we grew up with back in high school, not some horrible Dark Sorceress...I just didn't really put two and two together...”

          “Clariss...” I thought back to the mountainside; I could feel the wound in my stomach burning with the memory of its pain. “What happened to her? After she stabbed me, I mean...”

          “She just...vanished,” Logan mused. “Disappeared into smoke. We couldn't even go after her – although we did try to look, we could find no trace of her. So we thought we had to find someplace for you to recover. Rose was able to heal you temporarily, but you still seemed sick. You started turning pale; your body would get ice-cold. Alistair suggested we make a stop in Autumn Springs to cure you. Better than letting word get out in Feyland that their Queen was ill. Plus, this is an incredible powerful place for magic – some of the best alchemists and medicine fairies in all of Feyland come from here. And if anyone can help you or heal you, it would be the people of Autumn Springs...”

          “So!” A rumbling, kind voice echoed through the room. “Is the Queen up – is that so?” I turned to see the source of this great booming voice: it belonged to an affably handsome middle-aged man with pale blonde hair and shining eyes. A moment's glance told me enough – this man had to be Alistair's uncle. The two looked almost identical: only age separated the older Duke's features from his young nephew's.

          “Breena!” Another voice sounded through the door – this time a familiar one that made my heart leap with joy. Kian rushed through the threshold, sheer love and longing on his face. He ran to me, enveloping me in his arms, kissing me passionately. I stiffened automatically. I couldn't hold back a shiver. Suddenly, Kian felt icy cold to the touch – his skin froze and burned at the same time. I recoiled instinctively, violently, pushing him away.

          “What was that?” Kian looked at me, concerned. “What just happened? Are you okay, Breena?” He sighed. “Was this about our fight? Please, Breena – I'm so sorry....I was jealous, I was angry, I didn't mean any of it...”

          I shook my head. “No, it wasn't anything like that. I forgive you for that – and I'm sorry, too. It was automatic. Like something in my body. You felt so...cold. Freezing.”

          Kian furrowed his brow, a look of concern coming over his face. “You were poisoned by the Dark Sorceress,” he said. “But we did not have any knowledge of what kind of poison it was – or its effects. Was your blood green?”

          I nodded mutely.

          “And now we have another side effect,” said the Duke gravely. “Now it appears she feels the chill of winter the way a mortal does. As a Fey, she was immune to the cold of Kian's touch. But now she responds as a mortal would.”

          “What?” Kian leaped to his feet in shock and surprise. “You're trying to tell me that Breena will freeze up every time she comes near me?”

          “And what about the Winter Kingdom?” I couldn't resist breaking in. “We planned to live there – how am I supposed to go back to the Winter Kingdom if I can't deal with the cold. Not to mention...we're supposed to be getting married.”