Frost Fire (Frost Series #6) (12 page)

“The myths and stories have always painted me as coming from Feyland.” Panthea raised an eyebrow. “But who trusts myths and stories? Perhaps they are wrong. Perhaps I am from some other place…who knows?” Her smile grew crueller.

“Then why did you help us?” Logan’s voice was shaking. “Why did you make us think we could trust you? You helped Connell, didn’t you? He drove back the darkness the first time.”

“Ah, yes, that.” Panthea nodded. “I remember now. It gave me such great pleasure, in the end. Watching as I transformed the trusting Fey into bestial animals – little better than humans. They lost all their power, their honor. They let their weak animal wants take over. You see that in your own self, don’t you, Logan? You aren’t as powerful, nor as beautiful as a full-fledged Fey? After all, Breena chose the beautiful fey prince Kian over you, didn’t she? And no wonder! You have always been a half-breed, a mongrel, trapped between two worlds, belonging in neither.”

Logan felt his chest tightening, a gradual agony that made him want to scream. He knew in his rational mind that Panthea’s words were false, that she was trying to manipulate him, to use him…yet it didn’t matter. Somewhere, in some deep bestial part of himself, he felt that the words she was saying were true. He was just a foolish Wolf, neither beautiful nor powerful enough to be a Fey nor enough of an animal Wolf to forget this all-too-human love he had for Breena. How he wished these Dark Forces of Feyland carried knives rather than words! He would have rather suffered a thousand stabbings than listen to these horrifying words any longer!

“Come on, then, fool!” Logan stumbled back as Panthea struck him with the hilt of her sword. He crumpled to his knees, not caring, not feeling it, as she thrust him down upon his back.

“Weak wolf,” Panthea said softly. “You let your love control you. It has weakened you now, made you useless. You will never lead your people to immortality. You will never bring back the Twin Suns of Feyland! You will fail all of Feyland, and all of Feyland, all of the Wolves, and Breena herself – they will all know it. They will know it before they die…”

“No!” Logan cried, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“No!” Another voice echoed him. It was Rose, running into the room, her cheeks bright pink with energy. “Let him go.” She raised her wand high and pointed it straight at the spirit, words Logan did not understand escaping from her lips.

Instantly yellow, viscous liquid appeared on the spirit’s mouth, sticking it shut. Silenced, the spirit began to flicker – its shadow-form seeming to darken the Panthea-image within.

“Logan!” Rose ran over to him.

“Rose?” Logan was still disoriented from Panthea’s words. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter 12

R
ose instinctively gathered Logan into her arms, stroking his shoulders as she comforted him. She was surprised at her own strength. The spell she had cast had been a childish one – a simple spell she had learned on her first day of the alchemy apprenticeship: a prank that caused honey-thick molasses to appear on its intended’s lips, sticking them shut. She wasn’t sure why that spell, of all the ones she knew, had come to her now; nevertheless, she was grateful for its efficacy. But she had bigger problems to worry about. Logan – great, strong, brave Logan – was shaking in horror. Rose knew that whatever the apparition had said had cut him to the quick. She had never seen such pain in his eyes before now, and her heart ached with compassion for him. How she longed to comfort him, to make him forget all that he had suffered! How she longed to stroke his hair, to kiss his forehead…

She stopped herself before her thoughts grew too painful. “Look, Logan,” she whispered, “I know what you’re going through. I could feel it – I can feel it now. Whatever you’re experiencing, I feel it too. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. But it’s there. And whatever spirit’s been talking to you, it’s not your Grandfather. It’s not this Queen…”

“How did you…?” Logan’s eyes opened wide.

“It’s a dark spirit,” said Rose, “posing as these people – the people closest to you. It took the form of Redleaf and of Shasta’s mother. It lies to you, it tricks you. But it isn’t real. You have to believe it isn’t real.”

“But you knew about Panthea!”

Rose turned pink. “Remember that day at the Winter Palace, when I read that passage about the prophecy of the Twin Suns?”

Logan nodded mutely.

“Ever since that day…I don’t know what it means, or why it’s happening, but we’ve started to be tied together in some way. Maybe it’s because of the quest. Maybe it’s because I have been a Harvester fairy or because I have an affinity to communicate with certain fey creatures in Feyland. I don’t know. I’ve been able to feel what you’re feeling. To sense what’s going on in your head. Telepathically. Not on purpose,” Rose quickly added, “it’s just been happening to me, that’s all. Maybe it’s time for you to have someone who can understand you. Who can be there for you. You do it so much for Bree…for others…” Rose corrected herself quickly, “maybe it’s time for someone to do it for you.”

Logan looked up, astonished. But his quizzical glance soon faded into a kindly, warm smile, a smile that made Rose’s heart leap in her chest. He took Rose’s hand, and she could feel her whole body seem to melt into his warmth. “Thank you, Rose,” he said quietly. “I guess, going through all this, I could use a friend.”

Rose couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Friend? Was that the word Logan wanted to use? She shook her head. Well, what did she expect – Logan’s heart, after all, belonged to his Queen, to his Breena? No matter who Logan ended up with, wouldn’t his heart always belong first and foremost to the woman who could never be his? No matter what – even if Rose managed to convince him, even if…it would never, she knew, be enough.

They were distracted by the furious roar of Queen Panthea. The spell had worn off, and now Panthea’s mouth was free once more.

“Come on, then, fool!” Panthea cried. “Come take your punishment at the hands of your commander. You should be used to doing the bidding of Queens by now!”

“No, Logan!” Rose cried. “Listen to me – you have to fight back! Don’t listen to anything that that…
creature
says to you! You’re listening to the Dark Forces themselves, a magic that can’t be reasoned with. You can only defeat her by refusing her power. Tear her out with your mind. With your heart. Don’t listen to her, Logan.”

“Insolent fool!” Panthea cried.

“We’re behind you…all of us. Rodney, Shasta, Alistair. Me!” Rose squeezed Logan’s hand. “Breena’s Champion. Feyland’s Champion. Close your ears – just fight.”

Logan raised his sword high in the air, a new passion burning in his eyes. He slashed the shadow again and again, his jaw set as he focused on defeating the darkness within him. Soon Panthea herself had vanished: Logan was fighting instead a dark, spreading shadow.

But as he was poised to strike the killing blow, the shadow took a new form – one that made Rose gasp in terror.

The shadow was Logan himself.

A voice rose from the depths. “Nobody is stronger than himself,” it said, speaking with Logan’s voice. “Especially a man so ruled by his animal side as you are, Logan. Mark my words, I will return as before.”

Logan closed his eyes as he slashed down one more time, and the shadow vanished.

Logan looked up cautiously at Rose, breathless with exhaustion. Rose instinctively tried to read his thoughts, as she had done before, but this time she heard nothing. It was as if she were trying to read a blank parchment. Had Logan put up some sort of guard against her? She flushed crimson with embarrassment.

Curses
, Rose couldn’t help muttering. Of course she had to go and tell the man who made her weak at the knees that she had the power to read his mind. If he didn’t think she was some sort of crazed stalker before, he certainly would do now! But to Rose’s surprise and relief, Logan didn’t seem particularly fazed by Rose, nor did he look as if he thought anything of the kind about her. He walked over and put a friendly –
just friendly
! Rose thought bitterly – hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, revelling in his closeness, in the bittersweet smell of his musk. She ached for his closeness. She looked up into his dark, brooding eyes – how tall and strong he was! Certainly half a head above Rodney or Alistair! – and wished that the longing she saw reflected in them could be, if just for a moment, for her.

“Looks like we won this battle,” said Logan with a jovial grin. “Now there will be plenty more like that where that one came from.” He tried to laugh off his tears. “Now we’ll be ready for the next one. Don’t get lazy, eh, Rose?” He looked around. “Where are the others?” He squeezed Rose’s hand. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Rose led Logan back through the corridor to the others. Rodney and Shasta were curled up together, comforting each other. Both Rodney and Shasta had tears running down their cheeks; Rose knew that it would be a while before either truly recovered from the images they had seen. It took great emotions, hidden or known, for the Dark Forces to manifest itself into the ghostly images of loved ones. Alistair was sitting alone, absorbed in a book. Rose took a look closer. It wasn’t one of the books she recognized; they had brought as many as they could carry from the Summer Court Library, and Rose had already devoured all of them on their journey in the hopes of finding something – anything – that could help them. This was a smaller book, with a worn cover of black leather, and thick yellow pages that looked, Rose thought, sickeningly like fey or human skin.

Rose and Logan approached.

“Looks like my kid sister managed to pull off saving you, friend!” Rodney winked at Logan. “I knew you were his knight in shining armor, Rose.”

Rose and Logan both looked embarrassed.

“I did tell Rose you could handle it on your own,” Rodney continued on blithely, completely unaware of how his words made Rose want to sink into the floor, “but she insisted on going over, saying she just knew you would need her help.”

Rose looked firmly down at her shoes, but Logan only laughed. “I’m glad she did, then,” said Logan. “Everyone has weaknesses – and it looks like that
thing
found mine. It’s a good thing Rose did come over to help me; if she hadn’t I might not be returning at all. I’m not ashamed to admit it, either. You saved me, Rose.”

“You saved all of us,” Shasta chimed in, with a more sincerely friendly smile on her lips than any Rose had seen before.

“We all saved each other,” said Rose. “Like what the King said. That’s what being a team is about. What being a Knight is about. We’re all in this together.”

“Hear, hear,” said Rodney.

“Indeed,” said Shasta.

“Definitely,” Logan added.

They turned to Alistair, waiting for his sign of approval, but to their surprise he was silent. He was staring down at his book, his mouth gaping open, his eyes glazed over.

“Hey, Alistair?” Logan prodded him. “Are you with us?”

But Alistair made no answer.

And then Rose noticed. He wasn’t even blinking.