Frost Fire (Frost Series #6) (5 page)

Rose looked over at Breena, who was clad in a simple silk dress made of woven gold and silver thread. This was no time for her to celebrate, Rose knew. Although Rose could see in her eyes when she looked at Kian how desperately she wanted to marry him at last, Rose knew too that their nuptials would not be solemnized for a while. How could they celebrate their love when so many Fey were mourning the loss of those they cared for? How could they throw a wedding feast suitable for the King and Queen of All Feyland when so many fairies were using every last ounce of magic to heat and light their tiny homes? Rose looked over at Kian, whose dazzling blue eyes seemed to give off more fire than a hundred of these barely flickering magical flames. His pain, Rose knew, must have been pain two-fold – not only did he have to begin his tenure as King by trying to pull Feyland back from the brink of destruction, but he also had to hold himself back once again from marrying the woman of his dreams – the one he loved. His Breena.

Rose couldn't help but sigh as she watched the two of them together. His love for her was so palpable, so clear in every action he took. When she leaned over to pour the wine he put out a hand to help her; when she turned to survey her kingdom he turned with her, keeping his shining eyes ever upon her face. Would she too ever experience love like that, Rose wondered? Love so great, so strong, it had survived even the darkest days of the fairy wars?

Rose wondered if Logan was pondering the same question. While Rodney and Shasta kissed in a corner of the Great Hall, and the rest of the fairies – Summer and Winter alike – began to dig into their sumptuous victuals, Logan barely touched a bite of his roast pork. His fork hung limply from his fingers. His eyes were on Breena and Kian, boring into them. He watched as Kian lightly brushed Breena's shoulders with his lips; he watched as Breena and Kian fed each other slices of fairyfruit cake. He tormented himself with each vision, suffering more and more as he watched them fall deeper and deeper in love at every moment, and yet he did not turn away.

Poor Logan, Rose thought. Surely there had to be
someone
out there for him – someone who would love him as much, if not more, than he loved Breena. And surely he would fall in love with her, too! And then...Rose shook her head. While the fairy disapproval of romantic love was far stronger in Winter than it had ever been in Summer, she had still nevertheless been raised to believe that love was far too dangerous to be taken lightly by any magical being. Yet could love really be
that
dangerous – that cruel – making Logan fall for Breena, who loved Kian, and not letting Logan be loved by anyone else in return? Surely there had to be a girl out there who could make him forget Breena, who could make him love
her
, who could give him all the love he deserved. A girl like...

No, Rose told herself.
Don't even think about it, Rose.

Rose recognized many of the attendants at the court that night. Barnaby was there, as cheerful as ever, as were a number of Rodney and Kian's old friends – soldiers who had once fought on opposite sides of the war, but who now ate and drank and toasted together with all the joviality of brothers. Alistair was standing in the center of the room, bowing to a round of applause.

“For my next trick,” he was saying, “I will create a cloud of rose-smoke in this very room – a smoke that will settle upon those in the room who are most afflicted by the pains of
love.
”

Everybody laughed and cheered, their eyes going straight to Breena and Kian. Alistair's magic tricks had always made him a favorite at parties, and his parlor-tricks were not lost on them here: in the absence of greater splendor, Alistair's simple shows of magic were even more welcome than usual.

“Ta-da!” he cried, as a cloud of pink smoke burst forth from the beaker, settling immediately in a halo over Breena and Kian. The crowd cheered, crying out Breena and Kian's names over and over again. Another cloud settled upon Rodney and Shasta, and Rose couldn't help but smile when Shasta turned bright, beet-red. Only Rose noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a third cloud of rose-smoke settling upon Logan's head. Did the others notice too, she wondered? They were not looking at him  – perhaps they, like her, pretended that they did not see.

Rose couldn't take her eyes off Alistair. With his long golden hair and his easy charm Alistair managed to be at once beautiful and approachable. Rose felt safe around him – safe and comfortable. And yet when Rose remembered how wonderfully nervous she had been, how thrilling it all was, back when he had given her that very first kiss five years ago, it seemed at once so far away and yet so terribly near. Was he the one she was meant to love, Rose wondered – or was it all just some childhood game? Looking at him now, his shining eyes meeting her own, Rose couldn't resist the familiar stirrings of longing within her heart.

Yet when the dancing began, it was Logan who first asked Rose to dance. He was doing so out of kindness, no doubt, Rose noted, knowing that as long as Rodney was in the room, other Fey would be too intimidated to ask but yet as he wrapped his strong arms around her and helped her glide onto the marble floor, Rose sighed as she felt her body melt into his. He smelled so good – a cool, woodland musk smell that reminded her of pine cones and the crunchy fir-needles of early December. And he moved with such confidence, such grace, his body rocking gently against her own. Rose couldn't stop herself: she closed her eyes, leaning into him, wanting the rhythm and the melody to never end, wanting to stay like this, always like this....

The first dance came to a close and the couples all clapped eagerly. Rose flushed scarlet as the sound of applause brought her back from her reverie, hoping Logan hadn't noticed quite how much she had enjoyed dancing with him. It was Alistair's turn to ask her to dance, now; he bowed formally and took her hand, resting it lightly in his own. If Logan was a more confident, powerful dancer, then Alistair was more playful, more relaxed – they danced a sprightly, acrobatic jig, their bodies rushing to keep time with the music. A broad smile spread across Alistair's face; Rose couldn't stop herself from laughing as her cheeks turned pink and her panting grew breathless. Alistair wasn't afraid to look a bit silly as they danced – if anything, he reveled in the sheer uninhibited joy of movement.

Good old Alistair, Rose thought proudly.
He isn't afraid of anything, is he?

But soon the dance, too, came to an end, as the great clock on the wall began to strike in somber tones. Without the suns, the fairies could not tell the difference between night and day, say for the faint light of the moons; only the clock could tell them when an hour or more had passed. And now the clock was striking midnight – a midnight that looked like morning, and presaged a dawn that would look like dusk.

The guests all got up, preparing to leave. But as they headed towards the exit, the doors burst open, clanging against the stone walls. A withered, ancient-looking fairy stumbled forth, his face yellow and jaundiced, covered in sores. The palace fairies instinctively recoiled. Was this an enemy, they asked themselves? A pixie? A curse?

“Help us...” croaked the fairy, wheezing as he spoke. “Help us, please. Our Queen...”

Breena rushed to his aid, followed quickly by Kian. “What is it?” she asked. “What's happened to you?”

“The crops are dying without sun...” the fairy was shaking. “We have no food. No drink. And without magic, we grow ill. Our immortality abandons us – we begin to age. To grow sick. There are so many more like me – but I volunteered. Volunteered to make the trek to find you...to seek your help...O Noble Queen! O Fine King! You must save us...” His trembling grew more violent. “Oh, save your Feyland! Save it before we all starve and sicken and wither....”

His coughing grew worse and then stopped; he was silent. It took Breena and Kian a few moments to realize that he was dead. A chilling silence fell over the room. Breena dropped to her knees, compassion and agony in her face. “You are all dismissed,” her clear voice rang through the room. “All except Logan and those who seek to follow him.” Rodney and Rose looked at each other. “That means us,” Rodney whispered.

Breena made eye contact with one attendant. “Please,” she whispered. “Give him a good burial.” The servants sped the body away, their eyes downcast.

“We have to do something,” Breena said as Rodney, Rose, Shasta, and Alistair approached. “We can't let them win – we can't let the darkness win...”

“We're thinking too much,” Kian said. “Planning – the time for planning has passed. It is time for you to go forth, to find this Sorceress....”

“And cut her miserable throat!” Shasta exclaimed.

“Then the place to start is the Kingdom of the Dead,” said Alistair. “It's the closest thing we have to a lead.”

“I've been there,” said Breena solemnly. “It's not a place I would willingly return to – not unless Feyland's fate depended on it. You don't just confront the Dead, there – you confront your own demons. Your fears. Things you thought you'd buried deep down long ago.” She shuddered at her memories.

“Can you tell us how to get there?” Logan asked.

“If you're sure...” Breena faltered. “The road will be long, will be difficult. You'll see things you'll wish you had never seen...”

“It's worth it,” Logan said. “If it means saving Feyland. Are we all in.”

Shasta and Rodney only hesitated for a moment. “All in!” They cried in unison.

“All in,” Alistair and Rose echoed.

“No, Rose,” Rodney began. “Little sister – it's not safe...you should stay here with Breena. Do what you can – research in the library.”

Poor Rodney,
Rose thought. He still thought of her as a little girl – to be protected. Didn't he realize that Feyland needed a heck of a lot more protection than she did right now?

“I'm not a child anymore, Rodney,” Rose whispered, slipping her hand into his. “It's time for me to take responsibility for my actions – and for Feyland. I contributed to this mess; I'm sure as heck going to solve it.”

“Then...it's agreed.” Rodney looked down. “We set off for the Kingdom of the Dead today.”

“Agreed,” said Logan.

Breena nodded. “I'll go draw you a map,” she said. “I'll show you how to get to the mountain I jumped from...it might be the only way to get to the Kingdom of the Dead without, you know, dying.”

They all looked at each other nervously.

The dangers were only just beginning.

Chapter 5

T
he next morning was marked by the harsh striking of the clock in the Great Hall: six even rings meant that, had the suns remained, it would now be dawn. Rose clambered from her bed, rubbing the last sweet nectar-drops of sleep from her eyes, and gathered together with the others in the courtyard before the keep. Breena and Kian were already dressed, standing together next to a lit torch that illuminated their faces with only the slightest hint of shadow. Even at this hour, Rose thought, they looked elegant and royal – somehow Breena’s Summer magic, in addition to its more pragmatic uses, also seemed to keep her looking fresh and beautiful even under pressure. She radiated with magic; Kian radiated with it too, so that it almost looked as if, if Rose squinted, he was surrounded by a pale blue flame – the palpable manifestation of his magic. Shasta was among the first to arrive – evidently more eager even than the rest of them to prove herself on this mission. Her armor was impeccably polished, and the rings around her eyes suggested that she had not slept, as the rest of them had, but rather spent the entirety of the night cleaning it until it sparkled.

“We wanted to see you off,” said Breena as Logan and Rodney entered. Alistair walked in behind them.
Now we're all here,
Rose thought  – the five who were embarking upon this quest together. “To say goodbye. To wish you the best of luck.” Breena smiled sadly. “I wish I could be going with you on this journey. Believe me when I say that my spirit and my heart will go with you, even if my body must remain here. I will think of you every day, and do what I can…” Her voice faltered. “I know my duty is here. But with you, you carry the glory and honor of Feyland.”