Midnight Frost (2 page)

“Silly girl,” the voice was sounding less and less like my mother's. “You couldn't do that?”

“And why not?” I was getting angry, now. The voice was coming from all directions – bouncing off the sides of the mountains. I whirled around, looking for its source.

“Because it's impossible.”

“What, you're immortal?” I scoffed. “I've heard that before. And believe me – even an immortal fairy can be killed by the right magic.” I thought with a pang of Kian, his eyes closed, his mouth wet with silver, laid out like a sacrifice at the top of the mountain from which I had fallen. Had he made it? Had I been able to save him? “Do you want to take that risk?”

“I have moved beyond immortality,” said the voice.

“Then show yourself,” I cried. “If you mean no harm to me, I will not harm you.”

“But, you see,” said the voice. “I
do
mean harm.”

“Too bad,” I gritted my teeth. “I've just fallen off the biggest baddest mountain in Feyland and somehow I'm still walking. I think you're going to have some trouble killing me.” I remembered my silver blood – my wings. My Summer magic.

“Killing
you?
Please, my dear girl – if I wanted to harm you I wouldn't kill you. Only those you love. Your mother. Your love, Kian. Your friends – Rodney, Shasta, Logan.”

I couldn't resist a gasp. Who was this mysterious spirit, that knew the names of all those I loved.

“So that is your weakness, Breena. That is where I can take my revenge. Your love for your friends, your family. A fairy would never have such weaknesses.”

“Fairies can and do!” I shouted. “My father – Kian – Rodney – Shasta – all of them!
Me.
A fairy just like the rest of them. They know how to love. How to fight for what they believe in – how to be brave. Unlike you – whatever you are – too cowardly to show yourself face to face. I order you, in the name of the Summer Queen, to show yourself! Who are you?”

“The Summer Queen,” came the echo.

Anger reared up in me. I had just spent the last two minutes of my life confronting the shadow of my own death – I wasn't about to be mocked on top of it! “Yes, I bloody well am the Summer Queen – but who are you?”

“The Summer Queen,” came the voice again – faintly mocking.

“I am the Summer Queen!”

“And so was I.”

And then I recognized the voice – recognized it with a surety that made the hairs upon my neck stand on end. It was Redleaf's voice. The voice of the woman who had expelled my mother, enchanted my father, threatened my life. The woman who had started the war.

My wicked stepmother. The other Summer Queen.

Chapter 1

S
he appeared to me now, her form diaphanous and vague. I could still make out her auburn hair, her haughty smile – her honey-colored skin. She was decked out in jewels, each one shining brighter than the last. But she was not a fairy any longer – not a fairy as I knew them. No, she had no more substance than a cloud, than a puff of smoke. Behind her jewels, behind her face, behind her hair I could see the outlines of the mountain behind her. She had no feet, no hands, but rather her form seemed to taper off into shadows – she did not stand but rather floated before me, no thicker than a sheet of paper. I could have walked right through her, I knew. But even in this state, I could see the power in her, and I could feel fear rise in the back of my throat. She was not a fairy to be trifled with in life; in death, I knew, she was more than a mere shadow. I felt, standing before her, the same old fear that I had experienced when meeting her for the first time, when she had threatened to kill me

But I wouldn't let her win. I wouldn't show her my fear. I was the Summer Queen now, and I wasn't about to cave.

“Redleaf,” I said, in my bravest voice.

“Smart girl!” She laughed. “I always knew you were clever. Too clever for your own good, I'm afraid, or else you would have heeded my warning. You would have run. Gone back to your Mommy in silly old Gregory. But your stupid human side kept you stubborn.”

“You're dead.”

“You've noticed.” I could see her raise an eyebrow, her face rippling in and out of visibility. “But I'm not gone. A fairy as powerful as I was leaves her traces somehow. And so I am a phantom. You don't think
just any
fairy gets to be a phantom, do you?” She laughed. “Of course, you know so little about fairies. Just an upstart newcomer hick from the human lands. You didn't even know we existed, did you?”

I said nothing.

“You see, I have a new kingdom now.” She motioned around to the jagged rocks, the bare stone of the mountains. “Not Summer, not Autumn. Somewhere new.”

“Where are we?”

“Silly girl – haven't you guessed?” She laughed. “Not so clever after all, are we? You're in the Kingdom of the Dead.”

“No...” I raised my voice. “No, it can't be...” I wasn't dead, was it? I had felt it – felt the life force within me struggle to live – felt my wings, my silver blood. “I'm not dead!” I had experienced death before, at the hands of a pixie disguised as Kian – and I knew that then his snowflake – his precious gift – had saved me. I remembered dying then. I wasn't dead now.

I touched my neck – my fingers searching for the talisman, the snowflake. It wasn't there.

My heart plummeted as I remembered the mountain, my sacrifice, Kian's cold face, his closed eyes....was I dead after all?

“Am I dead?”

A scoff. “If only! Alas, my girl – look down. Your body is solid – as mine was. You are not one of us. You still belong to the living world.”

“What am I doing here? I was falling – but I didn't fall. My wings...” My wings had stopped me, hadn't they?

“You're a strange one, Breena,” Redleaf said, her voice sour. “First you repel a kelpie as a baby – yes, dear, I'm sure you must have figured out it was one of my
special visitors
for you. Then you withstand a fairy's kiss – and don't even go the tiniest bit mad. Even your mother went a
little
bit batty after that!”

“My mother's always been a little batty,” I blurted out, before realizing this wasn't the best defense.

“You've been able to thwart me and Wort at every turn – getting so close to your precious peace. And now you come here, while still living, when every ancient magic should have repelled you, when this place should have closed its doors to you! What magic do you have, Breena?”

“Maybe it's all that soppy stuff,” I spoke through gritted teeth. “Love. Humanity. You wouldn't understand.”

“Ah,” but Redleaf made a face. “I must. For you see, I will not leave this place – not until I am freed. Not until my anger, my hatred – all that keeps me from crossing beyond the mountain – sets me free.”

“You'll have a long wait, then,” I said. I couldn't see her attaining enlightenment any time soon.

“I never thought I would need your help,” Redleaf said.

“My help?”

“You see,” said Redleaf. “I am a phantom now, a denizen of a Kingdom of the Dead. One of the Dark Hordes.”

I swallowed hard. The Dark Hordes – the most wicked and ancient races of magic – had recently joined the war, fighting with the Pixies and Winter Fairies against Summer. The most dangerous, uncontrollable forces in the fairy world – and now Redleaf was one?

“Then the Pixie king...”

“Yes,” said Redleaf. “Delano has summoned me – as he has summoned all the Hordes. To fight. And his magic is strong – for as long as we are members of the Dark Hordes, we are obligated to fight, whether we wish to or not.”

“You don't have a choice?”

Redleaf shrugged and her shadow vanished for a moment, coming back into view. “I never had a choice,” she said. “Violence, hatred, anger are in my nature. That is why I reside in the Kingdom of the Dead. That is why I am forced to fight. It is a stronger magic than my own.”

“But you'll be fighting with Winter!” I cried. “Against Summer – more importantly, against Autumn. Against your own people!”

Redleaf's face turned grim. “Don't you think I know this?” she cried. “I have no choice! Why else do you think I summoned you here...”

“You summoned me?”

“You know I despise you. But you are my only hope – and I am yours. As long as I am trapped in this kingdom, I am compelled to fight against my country. I may have been a cruel woman in life, Breena. I may have sought power. I may have sought power so strongly – to solidify the position of the kingdoms I ruled – that I was willing to risk many Winter lives. But I love my country, my homeland. I would never willingly march on Autumn or Summer lands.”

“And unless I find some way to set you free...”

“Then the magic of the Dark Hordes will compel me to fight – against them. And against you. Not that it wouldn't give me great pleasure to kill you – to kill Breena the human. But you are a Summer Queen now, and in my heart I know I must spare you as long as I can lest Winter rule the lands instead. I cannot swear I will not hurt you – once the Dark Magic takes hold I will have no control over my actions – but for both our sakes....I have asked you....you must destroy the Pixies' control over the Dark Hordes. You must set me free.”

Chapter 2

S
et Redleaf free? I could have laughed. She had been my enemy for as long as I could remember. She had threatened me, placed my father under a deep sleep for months, started this whole war – how could I bring myself to do anything for her? Yet as I looked around about me, taking in the full measure of the Kingdom of the Dead, I could not help but feel sorry for my fallen enemy. This was nothing like the rest of Feyland. In the Winter and Summer lands alike, there was life, there was beauty. There was color. Everything always seemed to shiver and tremble with magic – nothing was static. Nothing was still. Everything was moving, changing, becoming ever brighter and more brilliant. But here there was only stale nothingness. The rocks were barren; the stones were devoid even of moss. The sky above us was a pale and pallid grey. Nothing could ever grow here, I felt – nothing could ever be born. Nothing new could ever happen here. This was the kingdom of the past – the kingdom of those who had died and whose hatred and anger prevented them from going on to their new lives beyond the mountain borders of Feyland. Those who, like Redleaf, were stuck in an unending circle, devouring any chance they had at freedom by their own anger.

I shuddered. Nobody, I thought, should ever have to go through that. Not even Redleaf. She looked at me with her piercing eyes – and even though I knew she could do me no harm I could not resist looking down, avoiding her gaze. Poor Redleaf, I thought. Her anger at my father, her hatred, her bitterness had brought her here – if my father hadn't loved my mother, perhaps she would have been happy. Perhaps her injured pride would not have driven her to seek solace in war rather than in love. As I looked at her face – worn, but still so full of beauty – I couldn't help but wonder: had she loved my father? Had his infidelities truly hurt her?

I shook my head. No use trying to worry about these things now – Redleaf might be dead, but I was alive, and I knew that I, at least, didn't belong here.

“How can I get out of here?” I asked Redleaf.

“It won't be easy,” Redleaf sighed. “But when have things ever been easy for you, my dear girl? After all, you were born into shame – shame has followed you your whole life...the shame of being born a bastard daughter to a bastard of a man!”

“Do you want me to help you or not?” I snapped. “Listen – I don't want you or any other ghosts fighting on my castle. But if you say one more word about my father...”