Spring Frost (17 page)

          I waited until nobody was around before rushing into his arms.

          “Father,” I cried. “They're dead – it's my fault...” He held me as I cried – as quietly as I could. I knew that I could not let even one of my men see me in a moment of weakness. I couldn't even let Logan or Kian see me like this.

          “I was never a good king,” said my father. “I avoided those tough decisions – I left them to Queen Redleaf. I thought that it meant that I didn't have responsibility for my actions. Today you made the hardest decision any ruler will ever have to make, Breena. And the fact that you made it – it proves that you are the leader I never was.” He squeezed my hand. “Those men were soldiers – committed to dying for Feyland. And I'm so proud that in you, at last, they have a ruler worth dying for.”

          I spent the night looking out over the castle ramparts, counting the bodies of the dead, trying to identify them at a distance to have something to tell their husbands, their wives, their children...

          And then I saw it. One by one, they were stirring. Their dead bodies were vanishing into the earth, being subsumed into it, and then rising again – malformed, rearranged. Their bones became the basis of new skeletons. Their flesh gave birth to newer, more horrible creatures. I swallowed down my vomit.

          This had gone on long enough.

          “Alistair!” I called. He soon appeared next to me, the Dark Sorceress's book in his hand. I took the book of Faeyore and placed it before him.

          “What is it?”

          I felt a new anger, a new rage coursing through me. The power of a true leader. The power of a Queen. “I command you!” I cried, placing my hands on the book. Tears were running down my cheeks. “Open! Tell me what I want to know.” My rage had gone beyond blue magic and orange magic, beyond Summer and Winter, beyond all divisions, deep into the very heart of things, into the most ancient and atavistic secrets of magic.

          “Tell me how to defeat her.”

          The Book of Faeyore began gleaming with a rainbow light, a light that grew larger and stronger and brighter with each moment. The light began to expand, covering the Sorceress's book within its radius. Alistair dropped it in surprise and jumped backwards, as if burned.

          “What's going on?”

          We looked down. The Dark Sorceress' book was turning over, shaking, trembling. Its leaves were rustling; its pages were turning of its own accord, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

          And then it hit me. The dust had a shape. The tiny grains were taking on a form – a body, a shape, a face...

          A face I knew. Rose.

          She was standing before me. But this wasn't the Rose I knew. Her hair was long and white; her eyes were whiter still. She shone with a brilliant, pure light.

          And she looked mad as hell.

Chapter 19

         
W
e stared at Rose in shock. Her body and face were the same as before, but power flowed through her veins – power deeper and more ancient than any I had ever known. Something within me, some deep part of myself, told me the truth: I was in the presence of the full Enchantress at last. She had been present within Rose as an echo – but now her strength had broken through. This was one of the Three.

          “How long?” Rose demanded, her voice booming and echoing through the library. “How long has this been going on?” Her voice had weight, authority. I heard in her the power of centuries. Meek, shy, kind Rose had vanished; this new, regal figure had taken her place.

          But I was not afraid. This was my sister – one linked to me by magic, if not by blood. “Too long,” I said, taking her hand. “Many days, Enchantress.”

          “So you recognize me,” the Enchantress nodded. “Good…” She looked over at Logan. “Come,” she said, signaling to him. “Both of you. We must speak.”

          Logan looked up at me in confusion. “Me?” His mouth dropped open.

          “Yes, you. It's the prophecy, Logan. The one that was foretold in the Book of Faeyore. You're part of this too, Logan.”

          His face told me this wasn't making much sense to him, either.

          “Listen, Logan,” I said. “I am feeling just what you're feeling – same as you. I'm confused too. Scared. But we have to work through this together. You're part of this just like I am. You have this connection with me, with the Enchantress, with all of us. And now we'll finally find out how.”

          “There is no time to waste,” said the Enchantress, cutting us off brusquely. I marveled at her. Where was Rose – deep down within this body? This wasn't Rose's voice. This wasn't Rose's face. But I knew I had to trust her. I reached out and took her hand; echoing me, Logan did likewise. Immediately we felt the force of magic sear through us. We stood together in a circle, and Logan's touch filled me with that same familiar warmth as he and I linked fingers.

          “I cannot defeat the Dark Sorceress alone,” said the Enchantress. Her voice shook with the force of her power. “The Dark Sorceress has summoned all the darkness of Feyland to her aid. Her pain, her wrath, her anger are so great. She has taken all the cruel things of Feyland – betrayal, hurt, anger, jealousy, death, decay – and used them to channel her power. It was this wrath that imprisoned me – until together with Breena I was able to break out. It was not until Breena learned to harness her magic, and the magic of the Fey Queens, that I was able to be free. Meanwhile, the Dark Sorceress is charging against Feyland itself: turning the very soil and earth into grotesque murderers.”

          She turned to me. “You must use that magic, child. Use the magic you have within you. Use it to help me and Logan fight off this darkness before Feyland is consumed with it and becomes a permanent place of Darkness.”

          Logan nodded. “It's about Feyland,” he said. “It's always about Feyland. It's not about my connection with Breena or Rose or her relationship with Kian or any of it. This is so much bigger than just us. This is between light and dark, good and evil.” He sighed. “I've been so blind. Worrying about my feelings when this connection means...so much more.”

          “You know the power of Feyland,” the Enchantress said. “It is a place with magic beyond measure. Those who harbor that magic, that power, will soon burst past the boundaries of the Crystal River, and control not merely this world but the mortal world, and indeed all worlds. Ultimate power, Logan,” the Enchantress said. “That is what this is about. That is the true story of Feyland. As Feyland goes, so goes all. You think you can escape to the Land Beyond the Crystal River? You cannot. There is no escape. What happens here ripples through the very fabric of existence.”

          I flushed. Logan and the Enchantress were right. I'd been letting my personal feelings – my fear of loving Logan, my fear of losing Kian – guide my decisions. I'd been blocking out the truth.

          “Cheer up, Bree,” said Logan. “Enough with the guilt trip. You've been blaming Clariss' arrival on yourself long enough. Now you can see. It's not just your fight. It's all of ours. It's something bigger – much bigger – than high school rivalries. Something we can't even begin to comprehend or understand.”

          “Come now!” said the Enchantress, her voice bending us to submission. “Hold my hand, children, and focus. We need time to build up enough power, enough magic, in order to push those vile creatures back to the abyss from which they came.  We must concentrate on destroying them all.”

          Logan took the Wolfstone from his pocket. Its glow seemed to radiate heat and strength.

          “
Remove the darkness,”
the Enchantress began to chant. “
Those who have died in battle, those who have suffered, those who are sick. Let them pass to a place of safety, and comfort. To the Beyond. Let them not be trapped here. Let their darkness not be trapped her. Let them be free.”

           
We began to chant with her. Somehow we knew the words; they were in our blood; our instincts told us what to say. A glow began to envelop us, surrounding us with shining magic.

          “What's that!” Alistair looked out the window. “They're falling! One of them fell!”

          Our magic grew stronger and stronger – so strong that it burned my skin and I had to bite my lip to resist the pain. I had to close my eyes to withstand the brightness of the glow. But Alistair's voice kept me going, kept me strong. “They're dying, Bree! They're dying. The leafy ones are, at least.”

          I could feel it – feel each death, each release of energy to the beyond. In my mind's eye I could see the leaves scatter and turn into leaves once more; I could feel the bones returning to the earth and disintegrating, giving up their form to create new life and fecundity within. I could see the face of each fallen Fey – flesh instead of skulls – grow translucent and vanish into the great mystery.

         
“Let the soil itself relinquish its anger, and keep in its place only kindness, only love.”

           
I could feel Clariss' rage, her impotent pain, as the earth began to reject its cruelty, reject the blood that was spilled upon it. The creatures that were made of earth began to disintegrate, too; the blood was cast up over the earth like oil on water.

          We were winning. I could feel it – we were winning. Our magic – the three of us, united at last – was working.

          And then the roof of the castle crumbled in on itself. A single fire blazed and blasted open the tower like a bomb.

          Clariss stood before us, in dragon form – only her beautiful eyes to remind us of the woman she had once been. Her wings flapped and her spikes shone. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the mistletoe in the gardens now charred and broken – the very mistletoe under which Kian and I had kissed months earlier.

          “I should have known it was you,” snarled Clariss, turning to the Enchantress. “You're behind all of this. I should have guessed. I felt your presence the moment you escaped from my prison. Who had enough magic to let you out? Surely not that stupid young Alistair?” She laughed, a high cackle. “And surely not Breena...” Her gaze fell on me and she stopped, shocked. “What are you doing alive?” She reared up on her claws, ready to shoot fire into my heart.

          “Stop!” cried a voice. It was Kian, his armor gleaming, his sword shining bright. His face was filled with passion and strength. “Get out of the way, Bree – go back to what you were doing. It's working! The Hordes are falling! I'll fight her off myself.”

          Clariss let out a long hiss. “Such love,” she scoffed. “Such devotion. Such foolishness. Winter King, you are wasting your time. Why risk your time for a woman who does not love you the way you love her?”

          My heart stopped. What did she mean? All my guilt and fear about Logan came rushing to the surface. But I couldn't listen. I had to keep chanting with Logan and the Enchantress.

          “What do you mean, witch?”

          “The Hordes!” Rodney rushed forth with a jubilant cry. “All except a few. We can fight her off....” He motioned to Clariss. “Rose!” He recognized her with a look of surprise. “Er...right. Rose – are you back?”

          The Enchantress sent a jet of shining white light across the room, protecting Kian and Rodney from Clariss' fire.

          “Rose is fine,” the Enchantress said, “But we haven't got the time to explain. Know that your sister is well. Together we stand. The Wolfstone has helped Breena and I harness our magic. Logan adds to our strength. We have one more spell – and then we shall fell the last of the Hordes.”

          We resumed our chant. Clariss struggled and cried out, trying in vain to break down the protective shield the Enchantress had created. I could feel the last of Clariss' creatures descend into the soil, bereft of the hatred and anger that made it tick.