Winter Spell

by Claire M Banschbach

  She smacked her lips together and shook her head. “You couldn’t make it taste better?”

  Dorian gave a slight smile. “I’ll make a note of that.” He stored the vial away. “There’s a Hold a few miles from here. We can head there and spend the night.”

  “What’s a Hold?” Tonya and Diane asked in unison.

  “A community of his people.” August didn’t attempt to hide his reluctance of the idea. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Would they even let us through the door?”

  Dorian shifted enough to look up at him. “This one will.”

  August chewed the inside of his lip. “Fine. What do you think?” He looked down at Tonya and Diane.

  They shared a glance.

  “If it means sleeping inside, then yes,” Diane said. Though she seemed about as excited as August.

  Tonya nodded as well. It means a delay in the trip, but it would help both Diane and Dorian.

  “All right, then,” Dorian said.

  Diane shifted her injured leg and dug the end of her staff into the ground, prepared to try to get up. She got far enough to bear a little weight, then shook her head, sinking back down to the snow.

  “I feel ridiculous. It’s a small cut.” She tipped her head back with a sigh.

  “I can take your pack,” Tonya offered, not sure if she actually could manage another when her shoulders and back already ached, but if it wasn’t that far to the Hold…

  “You want me to carry you for a while?” August asked.

  “What? No!” Diane jabbed a finger at him.

  “Why?” August smirked a little.

  “Because it’ll be humiliating. And I won’t make you do that, Tonya.”

  “Be honest. Is it because I don’t have dark green eyes and brooding good looks?” August tilted his face up in an aggrieved expression, but his voice and eyes danced with mischief.

  Diane glared and threw a handful of snow at his face, only making him laugh. “Leave Ralf out of this.”

  “Seems an appropriately grumpy name.” August dodged another clump of ice.

  Tonya began to smile. A muffled sound like a chuckle came from Dorian, for which he received a snowball to the chest.

  “I bandaged your leg!” he protested.

  Diane flicked more snow. “It’s the principal of the thing.”

  A burst of cold and white hit Tonya in the face and she yelped in surprise.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see you smiling.” Diane glared, but her lips twitched in amusement.

  Tonya grabbed a handful of snow and dumped it into the hood of Diane’s coat. Diane shrieked and tried to brush it out, only sending it further down her neck. She gave up and tossed more snow at Tonya, who retreated behind Dorian.

  Diane began to gather snow into a larger ball, a fiendish look on her face as she eyed them both.

  “No.” Dorian stood to leave Tonya to her fate, but she rose with him, hopping along behind him.

  Diane smiled wickedly and threw the snowball anyway, managing to pelt both Dorian and Tonya with snow. August lobbed a snowball at Diane, which she barely dodged.

  “Oh, throw at the crippled girl!” She retaliated with startling accuracy.

  Tonya threw snow at August, still behind the relative safety of Dorian. He tilted his head to look back at her, raising an eyebrow.

  She grinned back, suddenly wanting to see his smile spread from the corners of his eyes all the way across his face. It started, then abruptly shifted to shock as she shoved a handful of ice into his collar.

  Tonya backed away, terror mixing with elation as he deliberately brushed it away and bent to scoop up a handful. She took off at a run, feet whispering effortlessly over the ice, dodging between the snowballs August and Diane were now sniping at each other.

  A snowball whizzed overhead and she spun to face Dorian who bent to gather more snow. A frantic giggle broke from her as she scooped more snow into a ball. Dorian was unfairly fast despite only having one good hand.

  Ten minutes later, Tonya sat breathless on the ground. Diane sprawled in the snow, having conceded eventual defeat to a triumphant August who looked like he’d survived a miniature blizzard. Dorian brushed snow from his coat, eyes still dancing.

  “I haven’t had a decent snowball fight in ages!” Diane slowly sat up.

  Tonya rubbed some flakes between her fingers, almost imagining the tingle of magic coming stronger. “This was my first one.”

  Diane smiled. “You have good form for a beginner.”

  Tonya struggled to her feet and went over to Diane, who preemptively scooped some snow.

  Tonya laughed, spreading her arms. “I come in peace!”

  Diane smirked and took Tonya’s extended hand and levered herself up to her feet. A wince cut through her smile as she placed weight on her leg.

  “My offer still stands,” August said.

  Diane took a short breath, nodding almost to herself. “How far to the Hold?”

  “Two miles maybe.” Dorian pointed off to the right across the hills.

  “Are you sure?” She turned back to August.

  “I’m stronger than I look.” He winked.

  “Hmm.” She pursed her lips in a doubtful expression.

  He only laughed again. “For that, I might just make you walk.”

  Diane chuckled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “I’ll take you up on your offer then, kind sir.”

  August gave a flourishing bow. “I live to serve.”

  “Perfect. What else can I make you do for me, since I’m so grievously injured?”

  “Don’t press your luck,” he warned good-naturedly. Tonya took Diane’s pack for her as August scooped the princess up into his arms.

  Tonya swung the pack over her shoulder, staggering a little under the extra weight. Dorian tipped a questioning glance at her, and she nodded, determined to carry it for as long as she could. He retrieved Diane’s staff and rested it against his shoulder as he again led the way.

  Two miles crept slowly by, lightened only by the friendly bickering between August and Diane, managing to bring a few quiet chuckles from Dorian. Tonya lagged under the extra weight, but they kept a slow enough pace that she didn’t fall behind.

  Finally, Dorian paused by a hill that stood a little taller than its nearby counterparts. He used Diane’s staff to dig in the snow until it rammed against something. He bent to brush off a sizable grey rock cut through with faint streaks of some pink mineral. He rapped his knuckles three times against it, then twice more before standing back and waiting.

  Diane tapped August’s shoulder. “You can put me down now.”

  “Sure?” He glanced at her in light concern.

  “Yes, I’d rather not show up at a faery door, declaring I’m a human princess, and looking like I’m making you carry me around. Not sure what that does for first impressions.”

  August laughed and gently set her back down on her feet, letting her lean against his arm.

  Dorian shifted between his feet, and Tonya realized with some surprise that he seemed nervous. The air around the hill shimmered and revealed a bright red door inset into the earth. Even cleared of snow, ice still clung to the hinges.

  It swung open to reveal a male faery. He stepped out, a flat expression on his face as his gaze flicked over all four of them before settling back on Dorian.

  Dorian didn’t say anything, just held the other faery’s stare.

  This doesn’t look very welcoming.

  “Dorian,” the faery finally said.

  Dorian shifted again. “Endre.”

  Before Tonya could blink again, Endre punched Dorian across the face. August started in surprise and Diane lurched as if she’d take on the stranger with her bare hands. But Dorian just wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth.

  “Had that coming, didn’t I?” He tilted a glance up at the other faery.

  Endre sniffed, shifting his hands to his hips. “That you did.”

  Dorian softened a fraction
. “Good to see you.”

  Endre shook his head, lunging forward to wrap Dorian in a hug. “You too.”

  What is happening? Tonya stared, as bewildered as her companions.

  “What are you doing with these Myrnians?” Endre asked, bitterness coating the name. “And a human?”

  “We’re on our way north,” Dorian said. “We ran into a remmiken this morning.”

  “North?” Endre raised an eyebrow.

  “To see about undoing this ice.”

  Endre glanced back over all of them. “Remmiken, you said?”

  Dorian nodded. Tonya squinted at both of them, beginning to see some similarities in their sturdy features, the way they held their emotion around their eyes and away from their voices and mouths.

  “Aye, they’ve been out more, along with the hippogryphs, since the ice came.” Endre stood aside. “Come in, then, and get warm.”

  Dorian waved them ahead as Endre led the way through the door into a tunnel. Small cylinders hung along the walls, glowing in a gentle golden light. The lights brightened as the door creaked shut behind them.

  Ten paces later, the hall opened into a wide chamber that looked much like the greeting area in Diane’s house. More lights hung around the walls, illuminating the tiled floor and benches. Three doors opened off the room, leading deeper into the hill. Carvings etched the tiles along the floor and spread up into the walls—intertwining vines and flowers wrapping around large birds that appeared to be on fire, and creatures that looked like August’s grass creation.

  Hippogryph. Tonya traced the outline of the carving under her feet, the lines and crown of flowers softening it into something less terrifying than she’d imagined.

  “This way.”

  Endre led them through the door on the far left. A few slits opened through the side of the hill, allowing natural light to creep through and illuminate the same designed tiles along the walls. Alcoves with cushioned benches nestled beneath each window, and occasional doors branched off into other corridors.

  But still Endre led them on, taking a few more turns with sure steps. Tonya clutched at her sleeves, hopelessly turned around, and not sure how she felt about her first experience underground.

  Their footsteps echoed off the floor, drawing a few curious faeries toward the hall. They greeted Endre, stared at the others, and whispered when they saw Dorian.

  Tonya twisted to look back at Dorian. He smiled in a pained way the first time, and then kept his eyes slightly above her head every other time.

  What is this place that makes him so nervous?

  Endre halted before a door, carved and painted in bright reds and yellows. He knocked and stepped back, grabbing Dorian and hauling him forward a few steps. Dorian jerked his arm from Endre’s grip with a huff.

  “We all missed you,” Endre said.

  Dorian swallowed hard, his reply cut off as the door opened to reveal a faery woman in a bright yellow dress, a few streaks of grey in her dark hair. Her eyes widened as she looked at Dorian.

  Tonya thought she was going to mimic Endre’s greeting and punch Dorian again, but she pulled him into a wordless hug.

  Dorian’s words came so soft, Tonya nearly missed them.

  “Hello, Mum.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Mum?” Diane mouthed to Tonya. She lifted a shoulder in response. August watched in silence as the woman released Dorian and noticed them.

  She swept sharp dark eyes over them, assessing in a way that reminded Tonya of Dorian.

  “Friends?” Her gaze lingered on August with a harder edge.

  “Yes,” Dorian replied. “This is Lady Diane of Myrnius.”

  Diane managed a curtsey, wobbling and bumping into August, who graciously steadied her.

  “She was injured in a remmiken attack this morning.”

  His mother’s eyes widened a little and her hand pressed to her stomach.

  “This is August of the Myrnian faeries.” For once, no bitterness coated Dorian’s voice. August flicked a glance at him, but gave a nod of greeting. “And Tonya of the ocean and ice faeries.”

  Tonya still wasn’t sure what the proper greeting was on land, so she settled on mimicking August and offered a small nod, striving to hold the curious study of both Dorian’s mother and Endre.

  “I’m Ilka,” his mother said. She opened the door wider and stood aside. “Welcome to Csorna Hold.”

  Dorian gestured for Diane to go first and she hobbled forward, still clutching August’s arm. Tonya followed them into another wide, circular room. The ceiling rose higher than the entrance and halls, giving Tonya the feeling that she could breathe a little better. The same decorative tiles covered the walls and ceiling, painted in bolder colors and designs. Three doors split off the main room.

  “How long will you be staying?” Ilka asked.

  “Just the night. If that’s all right?” Dorian seemed hesitant, a little wary of his greeting.

  Ilka nodded, her hand still pressed against her stomach. “Will you want to see to her leg?” She nodded to Diane.

  Again, Dorian hesitated. “I can in the kitchen?”

  “Yes.” Ilka placed a gentle hand under Diane’s arm and pointed to the open door to the right. “I’ll take her.”

  She glared a little at August. He nodded and stepped back, his movements stiff.

  “The women can have the spare room. You two can share Dorian’s old room.” She glanced between August and Dorian.

  Dorian tipped his head down. “That will be fine. Thank you.”

  August made no argument, only gripped the strap of his pack, adjusting it on his shoulder. Tonya’s own load suddenly took on new weight, and she fought the urge to dump it all on the ground, sit down, and not move for at least a tide.

  “Endre, show them.” Ilka disappeared with Diane into the kitchen.

  Endre reached for Diane’s pack, which Tonya willingly surrendered.

  “You remember where your room is?” A hint of bitterness still coated Endre’s voice, even after his greeting.

  Dorian nodded, his face melding back into something harder than his normal expressionless mask.

  “This way.”

  Endre led Tonya through the left door and into another hall. The short passage dead-ended in a comfortable-looking room, lined with cushioned benches and a small black box in the center with a rounded tube reaching up to the ceiling. Galloping horses suspended in motion ran the walls, vines and flowers trailing from manes and tails.

  Endre opened the last door on the left. The same glowing lights hung from the ceiling on short chains. Two beds rested against the far wall, complete with carved and painted wooden chests sitting at the foot of each. Endre placed Diane’s pack on one chest and Tonya shrugged out of hers and laid it on the other chest.

  “Washroom is through there.” Endre pointed at another door inset a few paces from the foot of the bed. “My room’s on the other side, so make sure you latch the door before using it.”

  Tonya nodded, although she had no idea why she’d need a wash room.

  “Could you show me how to get to Diane?” Her heart twisted, longing for a familiar sight.

  Endre wordlessly led the way back out the door, turning into the sitting room, not back into the main hall like Tonya had expected.

  Heat emanated from the black box and the glimmer of flames shone through a glass pane. The warmth eased the ache in her body and she almost just took a seat in front of it to fall asleep. But Endre kept walking through an open doorway and another short hall into the kitchen.

  The kitchen was nearly as big as the entry hall. A long wooden table and benches took up one half. Long counters and shelves ran the length of the other side. Ilka stood at a broad surface of metal, watching a pot of steaming water.

  Diane sat sideways on one of the benches, Dorian kneeling beside her. His healer’s bag lay open on the table.

  Diane’s face brightened at the sight of Tonya.

  “I’ll stitch it this time,�
�� Dorian said.

  “I fainted last time I had to have stitches, but I’ll try not to fall on you.” Diane gave a wobbly smile.

  Something in Tonya’s stomach eased a little at the return of the smile to Dorian’s eyes.

  “That’s appreciated,” he said.

  Tonya went to sit behind Diane, letting her lean against her. She swallowed hard at the sight of Diane’s leg—bruised and bloody as the gash lay exposed again.

  “Hopefully I won’t pass out either.” Her light tone brought a chuckle from Diane, and the princess relaxed a fraction more.

  Diane gently squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  August entered and took a seat on the other side of the table.

  “Doing all right?” he asked Diane.

  “Ask me after Dorian chops my leg off.”

  August chuckled and Dorian tilted a glance up at her, the smile deepening around his eyes.

  Ilka set a bowl of steaming water on the table along with several clean cloths. Dorian handed Diane the vial of medicine again. He began gently washing the cut after Diane had taken a few sips. She stiffened against Tonya, stifling a faint whimper of pain.

  “So, Diane, where did you learn how to use that staff?” August rested his elbows on the table.

  Diane’s head whipped to face him so fast, she nearly smacked Tonya’s nose with her braid.

  “Edmund wanted to make sure that I could protect myself. We settled on the staff after I nearly took my arm off with a knife.”

  “Last round of stitches?” Dorian’s voice rumbled in amusement.

  Diane’s giggle pitched a little too high. “Yes. Although it’s been awhile since I’ve practiced like I should have. Ralf hasn’t been happy about that.”

  A smirk played across August’s face.

  “You can keep quiet over there.” Diane jabbed a finger at him.

  August spread his hands wide, still grinning. “I’m sure we can work in some training around the endless walking.”

  Diane sat a little straighter in interest. “You think we—ooh, that’s a big needle!”

  August rapped his knuckles on the table, regaining her attention. Tonya swallowed hard, looking away before Dorian started stitching.