Spinning Thorns

by Anna Sheehan

  If there was an answer, it was lost in the roar of the wind.

  ‘This journey wasn’t so long the last time I took it!’ I shouted again. I took Will’s arm and pulled her along beside me. She was stumbling. ‘You’re going to kill her!’ I expected Cait’s tower to appear as I turned around another tree, but it did not. ‘Oh, for the love of Light, I can’t lead her through this! Is there nothing you can do?’

  We walked onward. It surprised me at first that Will didn’t ask what I was yelling for, but when I looked at her it became clear she was nearly past all speech. It was all she could do to keep on her feet. I growled, snarling at the very forest. Will tripped in the snow, losing her footing. I lost my grip on her, and for one minute of obscene panic, I lost her in the whirling snow. ‘Princess!’ I called out. ‘Princess!’

  I heard a very thin cry waver through the wind. ‘H-here!’

  I followed the sound, falling to my knees. Will had fallen into a black hole in the snow. With a chattered whisper I heard her mutter a spell. I couldn’t quite catch it, but a tiny glimmer of light no brighter than a candle flame appeared cradled in her shaking hand. I scoffed at the trees. ‘This is the best you could do?’ I asked them.

  They did not deign to reply.

  I crept in beside Will. We were in a burrow, much like my own, although this appeared a natural hollow created by roots and water and erosion, perhaps helped along by some animal. It was very small, and the ground was frozen. I sighed. ‘I guess this gets us out of the wind.’

  ‘Y-yes,’ she whispered. Her little witchlight wavered and went out. ‘S-sorry,’ she said. ‘I c-couldn’t ho-old it.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ I said. ‘I can see.’ But that faded light worried me. Being mortal, it was her own renewable life force that powered her magics, and if she couldn’t maintain so simple a spell as a light, that force was fading. Her cloak was covered in snow. I took it off her and shook it in the entrance. She was so cold her face was blue. I sighed. I’d suffered enough winters in burrows that I knew what had to be done. I knew the ground was frozen, and my own coat was covered in snow as well. I took it off, shook it in the entrance, then lay it on the ground for her to curl up on. Then I curled beside her and pulled the cloak over both of us. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t like it any more than you do, but we’ll freeze.’

  ‘It’s a-all right,’ she said. ‘I r-really d-don’t mind.’

  I wasn’t as prone as a human to shivering, but I was pretty cold myself. My ice-patched wound ached with a dull, cold throb, pulsing the cold through my body. Oh, hells, Junco had warned me not to get too cold! I wished I had my spindle. Damn me for an imbecile, giving it up for a pointless revenge. Serve me right if I died of the cold, huddled in a hole with my worst enemy.

  No, it didn’t! I didn’t want to die, enemy or not. I’d already saved her life once today, she could jolly well return the favour. ‘Come here,’ I said roughly, and pulled her shivering body to mine.

  ‘Hoh!’ she breathed. ‘Oh, you’re so warm!’

  Compared to her, I was. I was tempted to push her away again, but something stopped me. She huddled up against me so trustingly, much like the kit did. Instead of pushing her frozen form away, my hand found its way down her arm until it rested on her stomach. There it stayed, feeling the convulsive shudders that passed through her again and again.

  Her body felt too large and sturdy to be so cold. I wasn’t sure she’d be able to warm herself, and I knew there wasn’t enough of me to warm her. There was just so much of her to warm back up. I pulled her a little closer and reached for her hair. ‘Don’t move,’ I said. I had no spindle, and I was out of wool, but she had an abundance of fine brown hair. I took a tendril and began twisting it around my finger.

  ‘What are you—?’

  ‘Shh.’ I continued to spin the lock of her hair until I could spin heat in with it. Then I bent the twisted tendril back onto itself, so that it plied together into a small hank of string. The moment it came together the heat spell took effect, and I could hear the same groan of relief that my sister gave when I warmed her. It sounded very different coming from Will’s throat. I sighed with relief myself. She was so much more pleasant to hold when she wasn’t a shuddering rock of frozen flesh. She seemed to melt back into a human against my chest. ‘There,’ I said. I dug a stick out of the detritus beneath us and split it with my teeth until I had a rough hair pin. I pinned the hank of spell together at her scalp. ‘Don’t undo it,’ I said. ‘You’ll break the spell.’

  One hand reached up and gently touched my lock of a spell. ‘What did you just do?’ she asked, sounding languid.

  ‘Spun some warmth with your hair,’ I said. I slowly placed my hand back on her stomach. ‘It’s not the best spell I’ve ever cast. I don’t have a spindle.’

  She made a small sound. ‘It’s strange that you can do magic with spindles,’ she said. ‘How did you learn it, when spinning is illegal?’

  ‘My mother taught me,’ I said, ‘when I was small. Before she grew too frightened and abandoned the skill.’

  ‘She stopped, but you still spin? How? Don’t you need a wheel?’

  ‘I make drop spindles out of wood. I can work those by hand, but it’s not as even a thread.’

  ‘Isn’t it risky?’

  ‘It’s a damned fool law,’ I said frankly. ‘That’s where my greatest gift lay. I wasn’t about to let some archaic policy dictate my life.’

  Will sighed. ‘Yes. I suppose that is pretty silly,’ she whispered. She settled in more comfortably, her now warm body moulding against mine. ‘I wish I knew why you were helping me.’

  ‘It’s not that much of a help,’ I said. ‘I think I’ve nearly killed you.’ I frowned. ‘Either I or Mistress Cait.’ I looked down at her. She looked rosy and sleepy. The scent of roses was overpowering. ‘What makes you so sure she’s going to help?’

  ‘She helped my mother last time,’ she said.

  ‘Did she really? From what I can see she saved one life and caused the deaths of countless others. Which faerie is the truly evil one?’

  She seemed to lose her patience. ‘Then would you rather Hiedelen became regent again?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ I finally admitted. I hadn’t thought, when I considered my revenge on the Lyndarian line, whether the alternatives would be better or worse.

  ‘Mistress Cait is the only person who can possibly help. If Cait won’t, and the Winnowinn can’t, than the kingdom is done for.’

  ‘They’re only sleeping,’ I muttered.

  ‘They’re being tortured.’

  I was silent for a long time. ‘I know,’ I said quietly.

  ‘I didn’t think you cared.’

  ‘I don’t,’ I said, my voice hardening.

  ‘Then why are you helping me?’

  Because I’m enjoying watching my revenge work through you, I thought, but the thought made me feel ill. I didn’t think it was true any longer. I was acutely aware of the scent of roses. It permeated her clothes, her hair, her very skin. There was another scent I caught as my nose touched her temple, buried under the roses. The scent of her hair, heady and sweet and very human. I took a deep breath, drinking her in. It had been a long time since I’d held a woman. ‘I don’t know,’ I finally said. My lips brushed her skin as I whispered.

  I think my confusion showed in my voice. Will shifted to face me until my hand lay on her waist. ‘Are you …?’ She paused. ‘You sound tired,’ she finally said.

  My wound was aching, and I was exhausted from the events of the day. I’d poured a great deal of power through me clearing a path through the thorns. I was drained from pain and exhaustion and cold. And the princess’s grey eyes were deep as the sky. I closed my eyes to escape them. She shifted, and then, light as a moth’s wing, I felt her chill fingertips on my cheek. ‘Where did you come from?’ she breathed at me. Her fingers lightly touched my lips.

  ‘From the shadows,’ I whispered. I said it without thinking, and I wished
I hadn’t. I was about to pull away, to turn my back on her, to stop the line of questioning which would lead, ultimately, to nowhere and nothingness. But before I had a chance, to my surprise, she kissed me. She kissed me, her lips soft and confident. I pulled back half an inch, taken aback, but she only waited for me. I could feel her nearness, and it was as if a thread was pulling me to her. Our lips met again, only for a moment, then again, and again. I kept trying to pull away, and I couldn’t make myself do it. I could feel her solid weight beside me and that wasn’t close enough. I’d thought back at the monument that I was trying to seduce her. Suddenly I was the one who wanted her, no connivance, no agenda. I just wanted her.

  It had been years since I’d let myself get close to a human. Not since my disastrous affair with Lynelle had I dared risk such an intimate connection. I guess I was hungrier than I’d thought. I kissed her as a starving man given good food.

  With an unintentional gasp I pushed forward until she lay half beneath me, her arms sneaking over my shoulders. I could feel her body beneath mine, welcoming my weight, and our breath mingled as we kissed again and again. Her heart beat faster, and mine, which was less subject to mortal whims, wasn’t exactly steady, either. She held me passionately, her hands caressing my shoulders, my face, reaching under my hood to touch my hair.

  My hood! I pulled back as if I’d been burned. I knew what would happen if she pulled it back. The realization. The horror. The retaliation. I wanted none of it. I didn’t love her, couldn’t love her, but for some reason I didn’t want her to hate me. I opened my mouth to apologize, to make up some excuse …

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she breathed.

  I blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,’ she whispered. She looked nearly in tears. ‘I was using you. It was inexcusable.’

  The princess I had used to curse her own family was using me? All right, this I had to hear. I lay back down, slowly, and wrapped my arm around her shoulders again. ‘And how, exactly, were you supposedly using me?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve heard,’ she said. ‘I’m engaged to be married.’

  ‘So I understand. You have quite a wait, though.’

  ‘No. I’m to be married at midwinters. Tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ She’d said something about a ceremony before, and I’d dismissed it without even hearing it. A gush of something I could only define as rage rushed through me. I wasn’t even sure who I was angry at. It didn’t make sense, so I dismissed it, too. ‘To whom?’

  ‘Narvi Hiedelen.’

  I growled under my breath. Hiedelen again. I hated that family as deeply as I hated Will’s. Possibly even more.

  ‘We’ve been betrothed since the day he was born,’ she went on. ‘I have to marry him. It’s even more important now that Lavender’s asleep. I always knew I’d have to marry him someday. But I thought I’d have time. Time to …’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know. I guess I’m just dreaming. I’m not the style of lady who is embraced by the ideal of courtly love. The attention without intention, the kind of court that was paid to Lavender since she turned fifteen. But I thought maybe …’ She looked up at me. ‘I only wanted a taste. Just to know what it felt like. To fool myself that someone … could love me. The half-chaste kisses in the corridors, the poetry left beneath my door. But no. All I get is death threats. They’re making me marry Narvi now because of the Sleep. And Ferdinand,’ she added in a whisper. ‘And now I won’t know what it is to be loved. Even in play.’

  I scoffed. ‘Your husband will pay ample attention to you.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m to be married to a nine-year-old boy. He’s not terrible, this isn’t a curse, and yet it feels like it. It’ll be seven years at least before our marriage can be … really real. In most opinions, that would qualify me as an old maid, or at least someone who married very late. I just wanted to know what it would be like to really … You’re the only person I know,’ she finished. She sighed. ‘I know I’m royalty, so you don’t want to anger me. But I also know I’m not handsome, and I know I’m big and I’m awkward and just a lot of trouble for you. So … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … upset you. I was being selfish.’

  I touched her cheek. She felt soft as feathers. ‘You’re not unhandsome, Will,’ I said. I didn’t realize until after I’d said it that I had just used her name. The first time I’d admitted to it. I shuddered. It hurt to think of it. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and only found myself drowning in the scent of roses. I swallowed. ‘And you can’t use me. Not if I’m already using you.’

  ‘How are you using me?’ she whispered.

  I grinned, a mischievous black humour trickling into my voice. ‘That would be telling.’

  A responsive shiver went through her. I could feel it all through my body. It did unwelcome and delightful things to me. I knew better than this. I knew the kind of hell that I’d be thrown into again if I let this continue. I told myself to control myself.

  A real faerie who knew his own name might have had more strength of will in the matter. They can take control of themselves, force themselves to act the way their reason tells them. The Nameless are more subject to whim. It’s one of the reasons why we’re so hated, so, possibly rightly, feared. I wanted to kiss her again, so I did. It was reckless, it was dangerous, it was ill advised, but my lips met hers as if they were sleep after a hard day. I was able to keep enough hold on myself to be careful, kissing her gently, keeping my arms around hers so she couldn’t reach for my hood again. She relaxed into my kiss. I could feel her opening like a flower beneath me, welcoming me. She made a small, heart quickening sound and wrapped her leg around mine.

  Oh, yes. Oh, no, oh, hell. I pulled back, slowly, looking into her face. Her eyes were languid and hungry, glittering as she looked up at me. I knew it was too dark for her to see my features much, but I couldn’t help seeing everything about her. At this range I could see much of her mother in her. The largeness of her eyes, that was Amaranth the Beautiful. The shape of her nose, likewise. Her hair was brown like winter leaves, but the fineness and the curl, that was Queen Amaranth. She may say she did not inherit the gift of Beauty, but she was beautiful, in a strong, severe way. The strong chin and the plain cheekbones and the coarseness of her face were not so much unhandsome as unexpected. The determined set to her mouth was softened now as she looked back up at me. She was only considered plain in comparison to her delicate porcelain sister, whose transient beauty was likely to fade as she aged.

  What was I doing? She would give herself to me. She would. I could feel it in her body, see it in her face. She would let herself fall in love with me. Since that had been my goal in the beginning, I didn’t know why I was feeling so confused now. Wasn’t this what I wanted? But it wasn’t. Not any more. What I wanted was to love her, and I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t. And I couldn’t let her give herself up, not to me, who only wanted to harm her. I took a deep breath and kissed her once more, softly, half-chaste. The sweetness of it made her catch her breath. ‘You should rest, Princess,’ I whispered. ‘We still have a long walk once this storm lifts.’

  She blinked once or twice, then sniffed. ‘Right,’ she whispered. I rolled aside and tucked her beneath my arm, gathering the cloak carefully around us. Her head rested against my chest, warming my heart beneath that icy wound. I reached up to stroke her hair. I think she fell asleep, but I stayed staring out at the swarms of swirling snowflakes.

  I didn’t know what I was doing. I hadn’t abandoned my purpose, the complete collapse of the Lyndal line. Nor was I taking this useful avenue towards that design, which confused me. If I were to claim this princess now, I could announce her disloyalty to the Hiedelen prince. Undoubtably, that would cause a war. Possibly even Will’s execution. The repercussions would spiral through her family. Lavender was already unmarriageable. Amaranth would be without an heir. It would be perfect.

  So why wasn’t I doing it? I knew I could change my mind. It wouldn’t take much e
ffort on my part to foster my will onto Will. It would be her will, really. She wanted more than what I had just given her. I was a faerie, naturally seductive, and she felt herself beholden to me for many reasons. She was more than curious, but too inexperienced to press the issue.

  I also knew I wasn’t going to do it. I wanted to – every hungry, lonely corner of my body wanted her – but there was too much more to it than that. I told myself it was simply too dangerous to risk it, but that was a lie. I didn’t care about danger any more. How much worse could things get? Everyone already wanted me dead. My heart had been broken so many times that it knew the procedure. I was basically safe. But she wasn’t. The truth was that I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I did it. I couldn’t break another woman’s heart. Not after Lynelle.

  I also felt as if I’d been half coerced into this. That Mistress Cait and her enchanted forest had compelled us into this tiny, inadequate shelter, forcing us into each other’s arms. What function could it serve, anyway? Nothing good.

  No. Best leave it as it was. I would lead her to Cait, and things would unfold from there.

  I wished I knew my own name, if only to curse myself by it.

  Chapter 14

  Will

  Will opened her eyes to stillness. The roaring winds outside had faded, and the moon shed dim, silvery light into their hollow. The only sound she could hear was her own breathing. She felt Reynard’s chest beneath her cheek, rising and falling slowly. She felt a gentle tug on her hair, and she realized he was idly running his fingers through it. Despite the cold, it felt good to be lying beside Reynard, to feel his body against hers. She was confused. As much as she enjoyed it, it wasn’t Ferdinand beside her, and that knowledge galled her. She was curled beside a lover – or as near to a lover she was ever likely to get – but it wasn’t the one she’d wanted. Reynard was handsome enough, but there were things about him she actively hated.