Faerie Winter tboft-2

by Janni Lee Simner

  The butterfly half flew, half hopped across the snow. The Lady brushed her fingers over Elin’s feathers. “Pursue the animal speaker. Destroy him, and bring the leaf he bears back to me. Do not return until you have it. We will discuss your failure to control your human captives then.”

  The Lady lifted her arm. Elin launched silently into the air, brown wings and red tail spread wide. Kyle disappeared beyond the houses, and Elin followed him.

  I ran after them, knowing that Kyle couldn’t possibly outrun a hawk, knowing I could do little to protect him from one. My torn sweater sleeves flapped in the wind.

  I saw a blur of gray. Matthew slammed into my side, knocking me to the ground. I felt his hot breath on my face, his paws on my chest. I looked up, gasping. His teeth were bared, and his eyes held a wildness that reminded me of the crazed dogs he’d once saved me from.

  “Matthew,” I called softly. He shuddered, and for a moment his eyes were Matthew’s eyes once more. He whined and backed off me. “That’s right, Matthew.” I got to my feet, held out my hands. “It’s only me, Matthew, only Liza—”

  The Lady walked up beside him and put a hand to his back. “Well done, my wolf.” All recognition left Matthew’s eyes. The Lady scratched him behind the ears, and he flopped down beside her, his tongue hanging out one corner of his mouth.

  “Let him go.” I kept my voice low, controlled.

  The Lady’s fingers grasped my wrist. “I don’t think so, little Summoner.” Her voice was cold, and that cold settled deep inside me. My legs trembled, weak as water, and I knew that the time for running was past.

  “How did you come to possess a leaf of the First Tree and first line, Liza?”

  The words burrowed down beneath my skin. My lips moved. “My mother gave it to me.”

  I hadn’t meant to speak. Why had I spoken?

  “Indeed?” The Lady’s fingers brushed my hair. I have no protection now.

  I wanted no protection. I tilted my face to look into the Lady’s bright eyes. Had I noticed before how beautiful she was? Beautiful as the ice storms that coated trees in winter, bringing them down one by one. Her hair glimmered in its net. She had fireflies bound into it, alive as the butterfly Elin had worn. I couldn’t stop staring at them. So pretty. She smiled, and my fear shivered out of me.

  “How did your mother come to possess such a thing?” The Lady’s words were sharp as ice, cutting through skin and bone and thought, digging deep inside me for answers.

  Her voice hurt, the way a knife’s blade hurt. I longed to hear it again. “Caleb—Kaylen—gave it to her.”

  The Lady went utterly still. “Indeed?”

  I wanted to kneel at her feet, but she put one hand on my shoulder, fingers digging through my jacket, forcing me to stand. “So Tara yet lives?” She spoke my mother’s name as if it tasted bad. I nodded, grateful it wasn’t me who’d made the Lady unhappy.

  Her fingers dug deeper, surely bruising me, but I didn’t mind. I hoped my pain pleased her. The Lady released me, and I fell to my knees. “You will take me to your mother,” she said softly. “After my granddaughter kills the boy and retrieves the leaf. We shall all visit Tara then.”

  The Lady reached down and stroked my cheek, where the crow’s claws had scratched it. I shivered at her touch. “You want to see your mother, don’t you, Liza?”

  “Yes.” I wasn’t sure quite why I’d left her. “I miss Mom.”

  “Of course you do. Perhaps when this is through, I shall let you be the one to take her life at last. You would like that, yes?”

  Something about the Lady’s words didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t puzzle out what—and I did want to please her. “Of course.”

  The Lady laughed and took my chin in her hands. “So weak, human minds. You’ve always been weak. That the Uprising happened at all is an insult that will be avenged, though the Realm itself winds down. Come with me, Liza.”

  I stood and wrapped my fingers around hers, trusting as a child. I couldn’t remember when I’d last trusted anyone like that.

  I’d trusted Matthew, hadn’t I? I held out my hand to the wolf, who stood once more. He snarled and drew away, and I wasn’t so certain.

  The Lady turned slowly around, as if looking for someone else. Johnny, I realized. He wasn’t here. Of course he wasn’t. “Johnny does that,” I said. “Disappears, and hides, and sneaks up on people.” I lowered my voice, as if sharing a secret. “I hate him, you know.”

  The Lady hadn’t spoken to Johnny. Only Elin had. He didn’t know yet that he needed to obey the Lady, too. I saw his boot prints disappearing through the snow, in the same direction Kyle had gone.

  The Lady ran her fingers along Matthew’s back. “I trust you can sniff him out, pet? Find him, and bring him back to me.”

  Matthew barked and trotted off, following Johnny’s prints.

  I let the Lady lead me away. Wind had scattered the clouds, and moonlight illuminated the bodies of the dead as we walked through Clayburn’s ruins. The temperature was dropping, but the stench of smoke and decomposing flesh lingered in the air.

  “A sweet scent, is it not?” the Lady asked.

  Something twisted inside me, something that needed above all else to please her. The smell grew strange and sweet, like dead flowers. I inhaled deeply and quickened my steps.

  “Human towns are weak, too. Every one of them holds the seeds of its destruction within its own children.” The Lady’s fingers tightened around mine. “Time was that humans had their uses. They were crafters, singers, players, entertaining diversions from life in the Realm. The Uprising swept all that away, when your human weapons held more power than anything human-crafted had a right to. Many of our shelters did not hold, and the injury your weapons dealt our land made it reluctant to yield up sustenance even for those who survived. Still we grew what we could, until this past season, when the land refused to serve us at all.” Despair crept into the Lady’s voice, as beautiful as the scent of decay. “So we came to your world at last, to take from it what we could. Only your land has proven as gray and desolate as our own. Even humans must know that nothing more can grow out of such death. And so the worlds wind down, and tragedy runs its course.”

  We walked past the last of the burned houses. Beyond them, bare trees lined a frozen river. Trees had always slept in winter; the adults in my town all said so. Yet what were the assurances of humans beside the Lady’s words? I’d never truly believed that spring would return after this gray season.

  The Lady glanced past the river, where the bluffs reached for the sky. “Have no fear, Summoner. The Realm will be avenged before this is through, and your frail human towns will fall, one by one. That is justice, is it not?”

  I nodded my agreement as we came to a fallen house at the far edge of town, one that wasn’t burned, only broken, beams and planks sticking out from the silver maple branches that held the building in their embrace. Behind the house lay several piles of mounded dirt, freshly dug out of the snow and mud, as long as a person was tall.

  The Lady slowed her steps to follow my gaze. “So you see the harm this town’s children have done to our people. Do not let that trouble you. This is not the first human town we have destroyed and it shall not be the last, though it’s the first whose destruction I left in my granddaughter’s hands. She will deal with the escaped fire speaker soon enough, and I have no intention of letting you stray so far from my sight.”

  It took a moment to remember that the fire speaker was Ethan. “He might already be dead.” The thought should have worried me, but it didn’t. “He took too much fire into himself, after he came to my town.”

  “Truly? We shall all see him soon enough, then.” The Lady drew me away from the graves to lead me down a crumbling stone staircase. We entered a basement thick with maple roots that reached down from the ceiling and pushed through the cracked concrete walls. “Cozy, is it not?” She led me to a small cave among the roots. “Almost like home.”

  Roots caught in
my hair. Dimly I remembered that there ought not be anything cozy about a tree or its roots, but I wasn’t sure why.

  “You are a pleasant surprise, Liza.” The Lady traced a vein along the back of my hand, and I trembled at the touch. “The first summoner we’ve found among humans, and Tara’s daughter besides. The wolf is merely a toy, but you, Liza—you are a weapon. What was the name of your town?”

  “Franklin Falls.” Had I told her before?

  The Lady’s smile was cold as ice. “Soon we will test the extent of your power, Liza, and then you will show me the way to your mother and your town. But first we must wait for the others. Until my granddaughter and my wolf return with their prey, I think it best if you sleep.” She brought her fingers to my eyelids, closing them. Velvet darkness surrounded me, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to sleep. I curled up among the dead tree roots. It was cold there, but I wouldn’t trouble the Lady with complaining. I could handle the cold.

  “I very much look forward to seeing your mother again,” the Lady said, and then sleep overtook me.

  Chapter 9

  I woke once, to the sound of Matthew’s bark. When I opened my eyes, the Lady stood among the tangled roots with her hands on Johnny’s shoulders, whispering fierce words. His shirt was torn, and there was blood on one arm, along with what looked like a wolf’s teeth marks. My gaze went to the knife that hung sheathed at his belt. My knife. I didn’t want Johnny to have it. I stood and reached for it, but then the Lady looked at me. “It displeases me to see you awake, Liza.”

  I didn’t want to displease her. I slept once more.

  I dreamed I walked through a dead forest. Ash fell like snow around me, and smoke drifted through the air, stinging my eyes, clogging my throat. I was looking for something. First I thought it was a leaf, only it was winter, and the trees had no leaves. Then I thought it was my knife, but that made no sense, because I never went anywhere without my knife.

  A wolf loped toward me, its powerful gait swiftly closing the distance between us. The wolf leaped, throwing me to the ground. As I looked into his wild gray eyes, I knew that this was what I’d lost, after all. “Matthew.” Too late I realized I’d put a command into his name. The wolf lunged at my call, gleaming teeth piercing my exposed neck—

  I woke screaming, my hands grasping my throat. Someone grabbed my arm. “Go away!” I cried. I opened my eyes to see the Lady gazing down at me, her silver eyes bright. “Go away!” Beside her Matthew stiffened, ears alert, fur bristling.

  The Lady laughed at my words. “You do not know my name, Summoner, but I know yours. You need not be afraid, Liza.”

  I heard her, didn’t hear. The nightmare was with me still, making my heart pound and my breath come in gasps.

  “Rest, Liza.” The Lady’s velvet words couldn’t get past that fear. Not yet—but already my heart was beginning to slow its pounding.

  I pulled my arm free, bolted to my feet, and raced past the Lady and Matthew, past where Johnny thrashed in nightmares of his own. I stumbled over tree roots, and out the door and up the stairs, into the frosty morning air. My feet kicked up powdery new snow as I ran. Clayburn’s ruined buildings were to my right; beyond the trees to my left, water trickled hollowly beneath the frozen river. Thick clouds hid the sun.

  As my mind cleared, I ran harder, holding my fear close, urging it to protect me. I couldn’t let the Lady steal my will and my thoughts again.

  She followed, calling after me in a cold chiming voice, commanding me to slow my steps. I kept running, but it was harder now, as if the air itself were thickening around me. I heard a bark—Matthew chased me, too. I almost turned back, but giving myself blindly over to the Lady wouldn’t save him. I had to save myself before I could save anyone else.

  Teeth bit through my pants and ankle, drawing blood. I skidded to a stop and kicked backward. My heel connected with Matthew’s fur, and my leg came free. Gasping, I grabbed a branch from the ground and spun around. A weapon—I didn’t want to use it.

  Matthew snarled. He didn’t know me. He really didn’t. “Run away, Matthew!” My voice tightened around the words. “Run far, far away!”

  The wolf whined. For a moment his gaze focused on me—saw me. Then he spun away and ran, crashing through snow and underbrush as he disappeared into the forest.

  “And now you have made me angry.” I hadn’t heard the Lady run after me, but she must have, because she closed the distance between us in a few swift steps and grabbed my arm. The branch slipped from my fingers. “Go away.” Even I could tell how feeble the words sounded.

  “You must be punished for making me so angry.” The words sank down deep, making my bones ache. How could I not accept whatever punishment she deemed just? “What shall I turn you into? A fish, perhaps, abandoned to strangle on dry land? Or a tree, left to die alongside all the other trees as this world slowly winds down?”

  I said nothing, knowing I would accept whatever she demanded, knowing I never should have run. A last echo of fear shuddered through me and was gone.

  “And yet, I have need of you.” The Lady’s hair was down, but glimmering light seemed to cling to it still. “A deer, perhaps—but deer are skittish things. Horses are skittish, too, but they submit to the bridle well enough.” Her grip tightened around my arm, and I felt power ripple through me—

  The Lady’s hand fell abruptly away. I remained human, which puzzled me. The Lady drew a single sharp breath, she who made so little sound. Her gaze was on something beyond me. I turned, hoping my few steps wouldn’t anger her further.

  Someone walked toward us through the trees. A faerie woman, in old denim pants and a leather jacket, wearing a small backpack. Her hair was pulled into a long, clear braid that fell over one shoulder. I hadn’t heard her steps any more than I’d heard the Lady, or Elin.

  “Karin?” My thoughts were muddled and slow. What was Caleb’s sister doing here? A bone-handled knife was sheathed in her boot, and a bracelet of green ivy circled her wrist, its leaves oddly bright in this world of bare trees and gray sky.

  Karin nodded at me, then dropped to one knee before the Lady. “Mother,” she said. “It has been a long time.”

  Karin was the Lady’s daughter? There was something odd about that, too. I moved closer to the Lady, reaching for her arm. She ignored me. For long moments neither she nor Karin spoke. I could have run then, only I no longer remembered why I’d wanted to.

  At last the Lady took Karin’s hand and lifted her to her feet. “I had not thought to see you alive again, daughter.” Her voice held no expression.

  “The years since the War have been long,” Karin agreed, her voice just as flat. A brown ragweed vine poked through the snow and wrapped around her boot. “I take it you are well?”

  “As well as can be expected in such fallen times. I would hear the story of your travels, and how we come to meet this day, but first I must deal with this disobedient human. I promise it will not take long.” Her cold fingers grasped mine, and I knew she hadn’t forgotten me.

  That was good. I didn’t wish to be forgotten. I wished to be a fish, or a horse, or whatever else the Lady required.

  Karin brushed her braid over her shoulder, a deliberate gesture. “I come seeking my student.” She tilted her head toward me. “I see you have found her, and I thank you for it.”

  “I see no plant speakers here, nor none of the blood, either.” The Lady’s voice was cool, polite.

  “In these times we teach whom we must,” Karin said. “Surely you no longer insist all your students be changers now?”

  “Of course not. I only insist they be of the blood.” An edge crept into the Lady’s voice. If Karin was her daughter, didn’t she know better than to anger her mother?

  Light snow began to fall. My ankle ached where Matthew’s teeth had dug in. I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Though Liza be human, her power is great,” Karin said. “I value her. If she has done you any harm, I will make amends for it.”

  “There i
s surely some mistake.” Sharp as hawkweed thorns, the Lady’s words. I flinched, glad those words weren’t aimed at me, even as the Lady said, “Liza, my daughter claims to be your teacher. Does she speak true?”

  The question was a strange one. “Faerie folk cannot lie.”

  The Lady’s smile was a cold and glittering thing. “Yet we have been known to slant our words from time to time. Is she your teacher?”

  I had no teachers. Mom had taught all the other children in my town, but no one had taught me, not until this winter.

  Except for Karin. What little I knew of magic—that visions were less terrible when spoken aloud, that magic could save as well as destroy—I’d learned from her. My own mother had suggested it might be best if I continue to learn from her.

  I did not want to leave the Lady’s side, but neither could I lie. “She has taught me, yes.”

  The Lady’s face darkened, the way storm clouds did when they blocked the sun. “Very well, Daughter. Take her, then.”

  Karin’s gaze didn’t waver. “Release your hold on her first. She is under my protection, as all students are under the protection of their teachers.”

  “You presume much.” The Lady released my hand and brushed her fingers lightly over my arm. Something left me, and I fell to my knees, understanding at last how small and weak I truly was. The Lady smiled, and I flinched from the daggers in her gaze, knowing they could cut right through me. She was still beautiful, though, beautiful as a new-sharpened blade.

  Karin drew me to my feet. There was anger in her silver eyes, and a hint of the Lady’s perfect beauty as well. I fought the urge to bow before her, too, as if something of glamour lingered in me yet. My head dipped, just a little, and Karin lifted it.