Ulean laughed. Your friend wishes to speak with you. You have won the hearts of the Wilding Fae, and that is a double-edged blessing.
The Wilding Fae were dangerous, a breed unto themselves. Ancient even by the standards of the Cambyra Fae, they were feral, belonging only to themselves, aligned with no one. But they had chosen to live in the realm of Snow and Ice when I took the throne. Bargaining with them could prove dangerous, but once they’d accepted my rule, they knew better than to try to trip me up with their deals. A good thing, too, considering my lack of bargaining skills.
I paused by the juniper bush. As I waited, a figure stepped out from behind the laden branches. She was short and dressed in a ragtag patchwork of a dress that swept the ground. Her hair was matted into clumps, draping to cover her shoulders. A withered roadwork of lines crisscrossed her face. Gaunt, her limbs were long and lean, her fingers gnarled with the knots that usually came from old age. But to be honest, I had no clue as to how old she was. The Snow Hag might be old as the world for all I knew, or as timeless as the stars.
She flashed me a cunning smile, and one of her teeth curved up from her upper jaw to rest against her bottom lip. She did not kneel, but I didn’t expect her to. The Wilding Fae lived by their own rules, and while they might now make their home in my realm, they were a force to be feared and respected.
“A queen might be listening for danger, but looking in the wrong direction.” She cocked her head.
I stared at her. Apparently we were dispensing with the niceties today. Usually there was a set format—a pattern with the Wilding Fae that held sway even when discussing nearby dangers.
“It would be helpful if one of the Wilding Fae could help to guide a queen as she seeks for the source of danger on the wind.”
I didn’t have the full cadence down, but Chatter—my cousin’s husband and the new King of Summer—had been drilling us. He was adept at bargaining with the Wilding Fae. Right now, I wished he could be here to help me. But I had to learn for myself at some point, and if I made a mistake, well . . . then I made a mistake.
“There is a learning curve to this. A queen might be making good progress, however, even while she trips a step here or there. If a certain Wilding Fae were less scrupulous, there might be trouble brewing, but luck will out. One of the Wilding Fae respects the young Winter. And at times, luck has little play in matters of destiny; desire wins out instead. And there is desire to see the new rule continue.”
She winked and laughed. It reminded me of the wolf out of Little Red Riding Hood, but then the slyness vanished, and good humor shone through. Once again, I could feel the Snow Hag’s power emanate through the forest, down to my very bones. They were a crafty, cunning lot, the Wilding Fae, and were dangerous enemies to have.
I thought over what she had said and tried to pinpoint my mistake. Where had I slipped up? But right now the thought of danger lurking in my land preoccupied me, and I was having a hard time concentrating.
After a moment’s silence, the Snow Hag broke a small branch off the tree. “Looking into the distance often leaves a queen ignoring what is directly below her nose. Danger can be alluring, and seemingly, the best of friends. Danger might also throw a cunning glance, begrudge good fortune, and be trapped by what was thought to be a good deed but turned into a snare. Usually, such hints will be visible if one chances to look for them.”
That didn’t sound good. “A spy? You’re saying that I have a spy in my midst?” When she remained silent, I rephrased it as best as I could. “One might think, by your comment, that a queen might have a spy in her Court, as eyes and ears of Myst.”
And with that the Snow Hag cackled. “One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice is growing into her throne. She is wise to listen to and understand the Wilding Fae. One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice is on the right trail and should look in the dark recesses of her Barrow for mice that do not belong there.” And with that she vanished back into the bushes.
Hell. The last thing I needed was one of Myst’s people hiding in my Court. And the Snow Hag had said the danger was right under my nose. I glanced back. Check and Fearless were standing at attention, studiously ignoring my conversation. They had learned the fine art of being present without intruding, a difficult tightrope for anyone to master. But this information meant I couldn’t trust anyone, and while Check and Fearless seemed more than willing to protect me, when I thought about it, I really didn’t know them. I’d have to corner my husband, Grieve, when I returned home, and ask him what we should do.
While I made my way back to the guards, a sudden shift in the wind alerted me as Ulean slipped past.
Cicely—move. Fly. Get yourself out of reach!
I trusted Ulean with my life, and if she said there was danger, I knew it was true.
“Danger! There’s danger coming.” As I warned my guards, I was already closing my arms, transforming, my arms spreading into wings. I shifted into owl form. And then I was aloft and on the wing, in my barred owl shape. Until recently, I’d had to undress in order to transform, but one of the perks of becoming a Fae Queen meant that my clothes changed with me now.
As I spiraled up into the chill evening air, I looked down to see a creature racing out of a nearby bush—and then, with a shimmer, another figure appeared. Shadow Hunters! And they had to have gained entrance to my realm via some way other than the front gate. We had guards set up, watching. Unless those guards are corrupt and working for Myst. The thought crept in as I circled the fray below.
I watched as Check and Fearless engaged the Vampiric Fae.
I wanted to be down there, fighting, but I was the Queen, and I wasn’t allowed to fight my own battles. At least, not unless there was no other option. It felt more and more that my freedom had been pared down. Although I had more power than I ever had possessed, I also had more restrictions. I chafed at the constraints, even though I understood the reasoning for them.
The two Shadow Hunters launched themselves at my guards. They were twisting, morphing into the great cerulean-colored beasts of the Indigo Court, as they prepared to destroy. They were hungry, and unlike the true vampires, the Vampiric Fae fed on muscle and sinew as well as the life force.
Check engaged them with a jeweled sword while Fearless scrambled out of reach. One of the Shadow Hunters had snapped at him, almost catching him in its slathering jaws. Fearless had just recovered from a similar attack, and my blood rose as I watched my men struggle to keep the Shadow Hunters’ great bared teeth from latching on to them.
There was no way I could survive an attack should I set down on the ground. Not even my queen’s dagger could deflect the attack of one of these monsters. But then I knew exactly what to do. It was a dangerous choice, but I couldn’t fly off and allow the Shadow Hunters to ravage my guards.
I spiraled up to the nearest tree and landed on the first bare branch I could find that was big enough to support me when I changed back to my normal shape. Balancing on the limb, I made certain it would be wide enough, then spread one wing so that my arm would be braced against the trunk as I shifted back. My cloak almost threw me off-balance, but I managed to catch myself and stood at the crotch of the limb where it met the trunk, bracing my weight against the tree.
Once I knew I was steady enough, I closed my eyes and summoned the winds. My hair began to lift as the currents of air rose around me, and a niggle of delight twisted in my stomach.
It was a dangerous prospect, for me to gather the winds, to stir up a tornado or a gale. Too often, they beckoned me to stay at their helm, to fully give myself over to their realm and become a mad queen on the crest of a storm. But I could save Check and Fearless—and I wasn’t about to let them die.