Frost Kisses (Bitter Frost #4: Frost Series)

by Kailin Gow

  “Hey, what the...” one began, but it was too late! Logan sounded the battle-horn, and instantly the entire pack of wolves was bounding forward, their teeth bared, all aiming squarely at the throats of the two glaring guards.

  “Let's go!” Logan cried, leading me by the hand as we rushed past the warring throng and into the cave. A number of guards rushed at us, but two wolves of our number leaped forward, holding them off.

  “There he is!” I caught sight of Kian, tied with his hands behind his back at the edge of the cave. His face lit up as his eyes caught mine, and I felt a palpable sense of relief. I may not have been worried about Kian dying, but at least I knew he was not in any pain or danger.

  “How dare you!” roared a voice. I turned to face Flynn, the cold Winter knight who had tried to kidnap me mere moments upon my entrance into Feyland. I hadn't liked him then, and I didn’t like him now.

  “Queen Breena,” Flynn nearly spat the words, so great was his contempt. “I should have guessed you'd get your brood of puppies to do your dirty work for you!”

  “At least I don't hire mercenaries to get the job done!” I raised my sword. “These are my allies. They're fighting for more than just pieces of gold.”

  “Always the idealist, my Queen,” said Flynn. “Wort was right about you. Delano never should have risked trying to keep you alive – no pretty face is worth as much trouble as you've caused.”

  “I'm assuming you wouldn't know,” I said, clenching my teeth. “Then again, your ugly mug explains a lot. I'm assuming you're another half-breed pixie!”

  Flynn stopped short in mock-offense. “Now really Breena,” he began. “You do me little credit. I'm the most noble, most loyal knight in all the Winter Court. I loved the old Winter King…” He scowled. “A rare thing, when even his own wife and son are willing to concede peace to you Summer cowards!”

  “As opposed to letting our citizens die in a needless war?”

  “If the Winter King were alive, he would punish his son for this ridiculous love! It's true what they say – love makes fairies go mad! No self-respecting King would stand for this – now even the Winter Queen's gone soft!”

  “She wants to stop needless deaths!”

  “Like my brothers?” Flynn scoffed. “Whom your men killed – are you telling me they died in vain?”

  I looked down. I had no answer for him, and this made me ashamed. I had hoped to find in Flynn only a despicable villain, but as I looked at him I knew he was sincere. Flynn may have been power-hungry and cruel, but my people had made him suffer.

  “We didn't start this war,” I said softly. “It's not ours to fight.”

  “But it's yours to continue – until it has run its course! We Winter fairies are not cowards enough to run – we are happy enough if this war ends with our destruction. Happier still if it ends with yours!”

  With that, Flynn raised his sword and, before I could react, rushed straight at me.

  Chapter 15

  I dodged, but I wasn't quick enough. With a loud clang, Flynn brought his sword down inches from my feet, bringing the flat side of the sword down against my thighs. I crumpled to the floor, overwhelmed by Flynn's force. “Summer bitch!” he hissed at me, his eyebrows twitching with the force of his hatred. “The blood of all my brothers, all my men – it's on your hands now!” I tumbled backwards, edging myself along the floor as he raised his sword for another blow. Ignoring the throbbing pain in my legs, I sprang to my feet, rushing behind a boulder that stood at the edge of the cave: the only shelter I could hope for.

  “Logan, help!” I cried. He and the other fighters had by now transformed back into their wolfish forms, and everywhere there was a struggle. Enormous wolves with huge teeth were savaging each other to death; with them in their animal forms, I couldn't see which of them was on our side and which rogue. I gulped, seeing Flynn raise his sword once more.

  I reached for my sword, trembling under its weight. Fear made the thing seem heavier than it ever had before. “Not so fast, Flynn,” I cried. I brandished my sword, and met his blow with mine. My hands shook from the effort; my shoulders ached, yet I knew I could not back down. I would not allow this man to get between us and our dreams – the dream Logan, Kian and I shared of a land of peace. We dueled for a while, our swords clashing with impossible force, but I knew with terrible certainty that I could not sustained the hand-to-hand combat. Flynn was easily twice my size, and while I could take him out with magic, there was no way I'd be able to concentrate hard enough to produce any kind of force while Flynn was rushing at me with his sword. I tried, but only sparks of blue and orange emitted from my fingers – stinging him like embers without stopping his resolve.

  “Oh no you don't!” I heard a howl, and then Flynn was toppled by an enormous figure, with matted fur and teeth that sank straight into his shoulder. Flynn gave a loud yell as Logan pressed his snarling muzzle into his rival's face.

  Serves him right, I thought, taking advantage of the distraction to get to Kian. He was still languishing in the corner, tied up tightly with twine and rope. I grinned when I thought of the fairy bonds with which I had trussed up Balthazar. Next to that, getting through these ropes seemed downright easy. I grabbed hold of the dagger I kept in my doublet and cut swiftly through Kian's ropes. His hands came loose with a gasp of relief, and he flexed them with joy.

  “I knew you'd come, Breena,” he whispered, pressing my hands with his. “I felt your presence before I saw you!”

  “Take my sword!” I pressed it into his hands. “I'll be fine with my dagger.”

  I wanted to rush into his arms, to kiss him and promise him my love. But there was no time for that. Around us there was only fighting, and while Logan had initially managed to press Flynn into the earth, he was now distracted by two more rogue wolves that had jumped, biting and snarling, onto his back. “Go on!” I shouted to Kian. “We have to get out of here!”

  Flynn had clambered by now back to his feet, and his eyes fell upon Kian with disdain. “So,” he scoffed. “The Winter Prince is reunited with his love! But not for long – I guarantee you both that! I shall live to see you executed as the traitors that you are!”

  “Stop, traitor!” Kian cried out in his clear, ringing voice. Even after being kidnapped and beaten, Kian still had the dignity and bearing of a true prince, and even the rogue wolves stopped short in their tracks to listen to his commanding voice. “I will give you one chance to surrender honorably, to the authority of the Winter Court you claim to serve!”

  “The Winter Court was your father, boy,” cried Flynn. “And he is dead. You are no true scion of Winter! Maybe your mother had a little fling with a human rat...just like your little love's father did!

  “How dare you!” I cried, my face growing hot with anger, but Kian remained cool and calm.

  “Nevertheless,” Kian said softly. “I will not allow you to insult me or my family – or my kingdom – by your actions. Submit to me, and I will show you mercy. This is your last chance, Flynn. Do not be stupid or foolish! Prove your loyalty once and for all!”

  “Never!” Flynn's laugh turned to a cackle. “I'll see you all burned alive, I'll see the plains of Feyland stained silver, before I surrender to a weak-willed Winter whipping boy and his Summer bride! No blood-traitors for me – if Winter will not stand strong, I will take over Winter, and be sure that we conquer our enemies – Summer or Winter, whoever stands opposed to us.”

  Kian looked almost sad. “I remember serving with you in battle, Flynn,” he said softly. “And I do regret that it has come to this. You were my friend, once!”

  “And you were once loyal,” Flynn shot back. “Now raise your sword and show me if you're really the Prince you say you are, or only your mother's bastard!”

  The two rushed at each other, their swords raised high in the air. My heart stopped, and then beat only with every blow of the two swords; I bit my lip in fear. Flynn was one of the Winter Court's best swordsmen – and while I knew of Kian's skill I k
new too that he was evenly matched by this fanatical interloper, who knew how to match each one of Kian's blows and thrusts for a parry of his own. Flynn had, as Kian had said, served in battle alongside him, and so he knew Kian's fighting style, Kian's moves, better than almost anybody. He could predict them in advance – but Kian could predict his.

  Even the wolves had grown distracted now, and stopped to watch the fight between Kian and Flynn. Logan had managed to defeat his two aggressors, who lay moaning in a pile at his feet, still in their animal form, and those few remaining rogue wolves cautiously stood back, waiting for the battle to decide their fate. If Flynn fell, they knew, they were lost – and so they chose to bide their time. A hush fell over the cave, formerly alive and thronging with the sounds of battle, as Kian and Flynn clashed swords, their weapons glowing silver and blue.

  “Kian!” My voice caught within my throat, but Logan put a hand on my shoulder. “This is a Winter battle,” he said. “Don't interfere – your Summer magic may only hurt Kian, not help him!”

  My body ached to step in to help Kian with every ounce of magic in my being, but I knew Logan was right. Who knew how Summer magic – even Summer magic with a touch of Winter - would respond if I tried to step into the fray? I hadn't learned to fully control it yet – I was just as likely to injure Kian as I was to fell Flynn.

  Still, my heart raced as first Flynn, then Kian, seemed to be the victor each advancing on the other and retreating in equal measure. They leaped over boulders, hanging from stalactites, and at last raced out of the cave to do their battle in the open air, beneath the stars that shone so coldly upon us.

  “I've got you now!” crowed Flynn, as with a strong blow he knocked Kian to his feet.

  “No!” I whispered.

  But Kian was not to be felled so easily. In an instant he was back upon his feet, knocking Flynn back with the full force of his sword, slashing a deep wound across his chest as he did so. Silver rushed from the wound, reflecting the light of the stars. Flynn staggered back, shocked at his own defeat. “You think you've won, don't you?” He stumbled backwards. “Maybe for this time. But no matter what you do, boy, no matter how hard you try, nothing will change – do you understand me? The biggest war Feyland has ever experienced is upon us now – and there's nothing you can do to change that!”

  With that, Flynn opened his wings – beating black and silver against the night – and flew into the air, his wound still dripping silver as his wings propelled him upwards, towards retreat. At this sign the rogue wolves, too, gave up the battle, and ran yelping and barking into the darkness, until only the surviving part of our men remained.

  Logan was pacing around sadly, tallying up the number of the dead with a cold efficiency that did not mask the pain in his eyes. “Twenty wolves have been lost today,” he said softly, as the remaining number of his army gathered round, their eyes deep with the pain of their loss. “Twenty brave wolves – you will all honor them.”

  One by one, the wolves raised up a long howl to honor those who had departed. Kian and I looked down, solemnly. We were not part of this. This was the land of the wolves, where we would always be outsiders.

  “Jonah!” Logan called out, and immediately a tawny yellow wolf transformed into a skinny, slightly gawky teenaged boy with sandy-brown hair and an awkward expression. “Come here!”

  “Reporting for duty, s-sir!” said Jonah, with a too-quick salute. “Anything you need!”

  “I want you to lead the rest of the pack back to the Manor,” Logan said.

  “Me, sir?” Jonah's eyes bulged wide.

  “You have shown great prowess in battle today.” Logan let a small smile escape his lips, and Jonah beamed with pride at the acclamation.

  “It's my first battle, sir.”

  “I am sure it will not be your last – you are a brave warrior. I charge you to lead the pack back safely now – and send word to the rest of the loyal Wolf Fey who are in the forests now that they too will be called upon to fight against the rogues. Send word to me at the Summer Court if there are any developments.”

  “Right, sir!” Jonah crowed happily. “As you wish!” He transformed once more into a wolf – he looked, with his long limbs and unwieldy posture, more like an overgrown puppy than a fearsome soldier, but I could see the bravery and loyalty in his eyes.

  Jonah began bounding away into the distance, the rest of the wolves following behind in a single tight pack.

  “Kian!” I rushed towards him, at last able to express my emotion. He encircled me in his arms. His body was still weak from the beating he sustained, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable.

  “I'm so glad,” he whispered in my ear, “to have you back.”

  “I'm glad you're here!” I held him closer.

  “No time for pleasantries!” Logan's voice was solemn, though I could detect the jealousy in it. “It's time to make our way to the Summer Court once and for all!

  Chapter 16

  After two more days of hiking and camping – made rather slower by the fact that we now lacked a horse, and I didn't dare ask Logan if Kian could join me in riding on his back – we at last caught sight of the glorious spires of the Summer Court in the distance. At first glance, it seemed that the Summer Court was as beautiful as it ever was. The spires were still covered in bougainvillea – purple flowers that hung from vines that twisted and turned around the palace roofs. I could still see the streaming fountains that divided the gardens from the orchards, and even from a distance of two miles I could smell the scent of bergamot and clementines from the orange groves. Yet somehow my heart was still filled with sadness, as if something weren't right. No, something had gone on in my kingdom since my absence. The blue sky, the shining sun, the thriving vines were all hiding something. Something wrong.

  My suspicions were confirmed as Logan, Kian and I entered the town center of the Summer Court. I remembered this town as being a lively place, filled with joy and chanting: the humming of the baker, the chortling of small children running underfoot. The jovial Summer Knights, who used to serve as friendly guards in the town square, had vanished – and with them it seemed the rest of the town had gone. The streets were empty, even ghostly, and my cough spread echoes around the squares and alleys of the city.

  “Where is everybody?” I whispered. My voice came back to me in echoes: “where is everybody? Where is everybody?” But I received no answer.

  At last I heard a low wail rising in the distance, a low, gravelly sound that seemed to be full of misery and pain. At first I thought it was a dying animal, but as we approached and came closer, I realized that the sound was collective: a crowd unified in a single groan.

  “Shame!” came the cry. “Shame! Shame upon the Winter Court.” A group of about two hundred fairies was gathered in the main square of the town, standing before a makeshift candles and a portrait – moving and shimmering in the way that fairy paintings always moved.

  I stopped short. The painting was of me. This place was my memorial. The thought made me feel queasy.

  “Hurry,” Logan hissed. “Hide Kian.” The noble Prince's sheer blue eyes would surely give him away as a member of that hated sect, even to those who did not know what the Winter Prince looked like.

  I removed my pixie green-velvet cloak from my back and hurriedly threw it over Kian's back. He pulled it over his forehead and around his chin, obscuring his face from view.

  “Shame!” The cry started up again, and then one Summer fairy – a haggard old man that seemed familiar, but whose name I did not know, stood up before the crowd, pointing at the picture of me with a shaking finger. “Winter must pay for what they've done!” cried the man to what seemed to be evident popular approval. “They have murdered not one but two of our queens! The prince, the heir to the Winter throne, pretended to love our Queen, only to murder her in cold blood on the very eve of the treaty!”

  “For shame!” the crowd chanted. “Devious! Shame!”

  Kian looked down sheepishly.


  I pulled out some remaining clothing from my bag – a shawl to disguise my head, and another to cover up the pixie clothes I still wore. I wanted to figure out the situation before coming so obviously back to life.

  We slipped past the mourning crowd and into the palace, surprised to find that no guards stood before the great gate that led to the gardens within.

  “What's going on?” I asked Logan, when we were out of earshot of the others. “What happened here?” The whole palace seemed to be a ghost-palace. Nothing had been moved since my absence; nothing had been changed – and yet a feeling of dread grew within me.

  That dread grew greater still when we entered the palace. Here the place bore the clear sign of an attack: silver streaked the marble floors, the curtains were torn and rent to bits. The crystal and stained glass windows were shattered. Even the Great Hall had been left unmended – clearly in the same state of chaos it had been since the siege.

  “I never thought it would get this bad,” said Logan. “When I left – after you were murdered, or at least, we thought you were murdered, it was awful! We thought it was the Winter Knights who had betrayed us – in all the chaos we didn't realize that it was the Pixies masquerading as Summer Knights who had started the fighting – and we went on a rampage – murdering so many of the Winter Knights, drunk on our own violence, murdering so many men...so many innocent men.” He looked ashamed. “The fighting grew worse. The Winter Queen and many of her cohorts were able to escape, killing so many of our men in the process. The next day, the surviving Summer Knights called up an army: not only the generals and high-ranking officials who were at the signing but rather called up all eligible fairy warriors, summoning them to battle. I knew it was no longer safe for me in the Palace. The people had been willing to overlook their wariness of the Wolf in their midst as long as you were alive, but the second you were gone they lost faith in me. I was the one to suggest peace, after all, and they blamed me for the attack. They said that it was because we had let in the Winter soldiers that we had made ourselves vulnerable to a siege.”