I shake my head, trying to ignore his sad look. "I can't. How can I smile when my mother is dead, her body dismembered somewhere? How can I smile when I don't know where my father is, if he's alive, even?"
Arc puts his hands on my shoulders and even though I can barely stand the touch, I stay where I am, looking down at the ground, willing my tears to disappear.
"Neither of them would want ye to be all cold like that," Arc says softly. "Just because that's how Queen Beira rules, doesn't mean that ye should be the same. Come back to us, Wyn. Dinnae stay in that darkness. Let us in."
If I was my normal self, I'd hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. But I'm not. The Wyn he knows is locked away inside of me and I have no intention of letting her out. She's not strong enough for this new world. I have to be cold and unfeeling to survive. I can't break down, I need to keep going. Why can't they understand that? Why do they try and make me let down my barriers?
No, I can't.
I shrug off his hands and step back, before slamming up my walls. The rainbows disappear, then everything else goes black and I'm thrown back into my body.
Bye, Arc. I'm sorry.
Pain welcomes me with open arms. I don't fight it. I deserve it.
I let myself enjoy the warmth of the Guardian holding me for just a moment before opening my eyes. Crispin is bent over my body, his hands running close over my skin without actually touching me. He's not noticed yet that I'm awake.
The pain is almost more than when I was burning. Whatever he's doing isn't gentle. But that's good. I let my parents down, I brought the demon into their house. My mum is dead because of me. This pain isn't punishment enough.
"Wyn," Arc groans, holding his head. He's sitting on the floor next to me, his back against the wall. His face is pale beneath his red hair.
"What happened?" Storm asks worriedly and kneels beside his fellow Guardian.
"She pushed me away," Arc sighs, pointing at me.
Crispin looks up from his work and his eyes widen when he sees that I'm awake.
"Shit, you weren't supposed to be conscious while I'm doing this. That's it. You're going to sleep."
"No," I whisper, my voice rough from pain and smoke.
"You had your chance," Storm growls angrily. "Crisp, put her to sleep. Then once you've healed her, we're going home. No more sparklies."
"But I need them..."
Sleep rushes at me and I'm gone before I can fight it.
"What are we going to do now?" Frost whispers. His voice is almost too far to hear but he's in the same room.
"From now on, one of us stays with her at all times." That's Storm, not my lover Storm, but the leader, the serious one. “When she tries to go to Blaze, stop her. Not that the unicorn will give her any more, he's learned his lesson. I don't think he expected her to get addicted as quickly as she did."
"He should be grateful I healed him," Crispin growls. "He'd be dead if Frost hadn't been shadowing them."
"What if she tries ta leave? We cannae stop her, she's the Princess."
"We've sworn to protect her," Storm says gravely. "Even if that means protecting her from herself. I'm sure Her Majesty agrees, but if she doesn't, I'll take it on me to deal with the consequences."
"She pushed me away," Arc mutters, his voice full of sadness. "She's never done that before."
Storm sighs. "She's not herself at the moment. She's grieving, she's in an unfamiliar place and she wants revenge. It's not a good place for anyone to be in. She needs time, but I'm not sure how much we can give her. The war is coming and we need to be prepared."
I don't need time. I'm ready for war. Ready to crush the Morrigan. I've secured my heart, protecting it from further injuries. I don't know if my father is still alive. If he isn't... I can't crash. I need to continue fighting. I can't let feelings hold me back. That was the old Wyn, but she was weak. To defeat the Goddess of Death, I will need my mind, not my heart.
"I'm worried we're losing her," Arc whispers. "I've never seen her barriers so strong. She's keeping us oot, what if she never lets us in again?"
He sounds so forlorn, so sad that I want to give him a hug - no, that's the old Wyn. Stop it. Hugging doesn't help anyone. It's just a waste of time and energy.
"Remember, we're bound to her," Crispin says soothingly, but even he sounds a little unsure. "Eventually, she won't be able to fight the bond any longer. She needs us just as much as we need her."
I can't take it any longer and move my arms and legs, stretching as if I'm only just waking up.
"Good morning, Princess."
A smiling Frost is the first I see when I open my eyes.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine. What time is it?"
His smiles wavers a little. "Almost noon. The healing took a lot of your own energy so we let you sleep..."
I jump out of bed, not letting him finish. So much time wasted. I need to consult with my mother, then a quick trip to Blaze, then there's likely a Council meeting, then...
Wait, Blaze.
"Is he alright?"
"Who? The unicorn?" Storm sneers in disapproval.
"Yes, who else," I reply impatiently. "Did he get hurt?"
"He's fine," Frost says, walking around me until he's standing in my way. His eyes are soft and warm, but there's a question in there, a plea for me to respond to him. Not to his words, to his feelings.
I turn my head, unable to look at the want in his eyes. I can't give him what he needs.
"Crispin healed him after he was done with you," Frost explains, hurt swinging in his voice. "But he's left for a little while, until-"
I swirl around and grab Frost by the shoulders, almost shaking him.
"Why would he leave? Where did he go?"
Frost looks down, evading my eyes.
"He had something to do..."
I squeeze his arms tighter.
"But I need him." My voice isn't as strong as I'd like it to be, in fact, it's almost a whimper. No more sparklies. I need them. I can't go on without them. Blaze is the only one who can make me forget, who takes the edge off the pain. Without him, I'll have to live in the cold and the dark, the way the world has been feeling ever since the day the box arrived. My mother's...
No, don't think of that. Don't let it get close to you. They were your adoptive parents, not your real ones. Her death isn't as bad as it seems. Beira is your real mother. She's still alive, she needs you.
"I need them..." This time, it really is a whimper.
My breathing is getting faster but I can't control it; it's my body who's taken over. My legs shake and I slowly sink to the floor, clinging to whatever's closest.
I can't do this.
I'm not strong enough. I can't shield my emotions well enough. Sometimes they need to be let out, and I can only do that with Blaze. He doesn't judge, he doesn't tell anyone. With him I can be happy for a few moments every day, before the darkness takes over once more.
"Shush, Wyn, it'll be alright."
A hand rubs my back soothingly and it's grating against my barriers.
No, I can't.
I wiggle free from their touch and stumble to my feet. Everything is spinning and I'm vaguely aware that my breathing is far too fast, but I need to get away from them. They're too nice, too kind. I can't give them what they want.
Surprisingly, I reach the bathroom before any of them can stop me. I turn the key in the lock and then sink down to the ground again, leaning against the cool wooden door.
Blaze has abandoned me, just when I needed him most. I thought I could trust the unicorn.
I hug my knees to my chest. My heart is close to breaking free but I can't let that happen. I need to keep it in its icy prison, even if it hurts. I need to keep functioning. But why is it all so difficult?
It's the men. They're making it harder. Without them, all I'd have to worry about was myself. But even now I can feel my connection to them, the bond pulling us towards each other. If I ga
ve in, I'd open the door and throw myself into their arms.
The bond is getting more demanding with every day I don't touch my Guardians. I never noticed before how often I touched them. A slight brush against each other on a corridor, a quick kiss on the way to a meeting, cuddling in bed before falling asleep in their arms. Even if it wasn't always all of them together, there was usually one of them around. And now that I'm keeping them at a distance, the bond is making me suffer for it.
Damn those Guardians for making me go through with that ritual. Maybe the connection we had before, the one created by them syphoning some of my magic, wouldn't have been strong enough to keep us together. Maybe I could have made them leave. But with the other bond, that's impossible.
A knock on the door sends tiny vibrations through my spine.
"Wyn, are you alright?"
I ignore Storm and draw my legs closer. Not that it makes me feel any better.
He knocks again, harder this time. The entire door shakes and with a sigh, I get up, looking for a better place to sit.
That's when I see myself in the mirror. I shriek before I can stifle the scream with my hands.
It isn't me.
It can't be.
The Wyn in the mirror is staring back at me, wide-eyed, her singed eyebrows giving her a strangely confused look.
With a crash, the door flies open.
"What's-?"
Storm doesn't finish his question. He knows exactly what's wrong.
Half of my hair is gone. My scalp is an ugly red, the skin puckered where the hair used to be. My hair is normal on the left side, but then as soon as it reaches the parting, it turns into a strange lightning bolt shape, leaving a few tufts at the front with a giant bald batch just behind.
I gingerly touch the back of my head. Again, there's no hair left on the right side.
"I healed you, but I couldn't regrow your hair," Crispin says softly. I didn't even notice him entering the room. "Maybe your mother can. Or we can get you a wig, or a pretty headscarf, or..."
"Get out!" I scream and blast them with a burst of wind, shooting out of me before I can stop it. Crispin is flung against the wall with a crack, while the door slams against Storm. Both of them cry out in pain and I freeze, watching as Crispin slumps to the floor, blood staining the wall where his head crashed against it.
The door opens again and in comes a furious Storm, holding his bleeding nose.
"What the fuck are you playing at?" he shouts, stalking towards me. Frost and Arc are behind him, staring at me with grim faces.
"Crispin!" Frost has seen Crispin on the floor and hurries to kneel by his friend's side. "Crisp, can you hear me?"
He checks for a pulse while I wring my hands, ice flooding my veins. What have I done?
I begin to shiver, then my body starts to shake ever so slightly. The ice is reaching my heart, already cold, but it's a different kind of ice now. The current layer is one I put there myself. The new ice is one out of my control.
It scares me. Everything scares me.
Crispin groans and Frost sighs in relief. Arc is kneeling on Crispin's other side, but I didn't even notice him move. The world around me has turned into a dream that I'm watching, but not taking part in.
"Wyn?" Storm asks from far away, coming closer. The blood flowing from his nose has stopped, leaving brown traces behind. "Wynter?"
He never uses my full name. Why is he now?
Something is building up in me, a pressure that is starting somewhere near my heart. An icy energy is running through me and my shakes are getting stronger.
"Wyn, your eyes are glowing."
Are they? How strange.
Fog is clouding my mind and it's hard to stay focussed.
Something tickles my hand and I look down. Tiny sparks of lightning are sizzling around my fingers, so beautiful and pretty. I raise my hand to take a closer look, watching as the sparks are turning into larger bolts.
"Wyn, stop it!"
But why would I stop such a pretty thing? It's like Blaze's sparkly cave, only brighter and more powerful.
"Frost, get Crisp out of here. Everybody out, she's going to flare again!"
Storm is looking at me strangely, like he's afraid.
Is there something dangerous with us in the room? I look around, but there's nothing behind me. No monsters, no enemies.
"Wyn, you need to control your magic," Storm says, urgency lacing each of his words. "Without Crispin, we won't be able to contain it."
The intensity of his voice makes me stop and think, but I'm not sure how to use my magic anymore. It's too slippery, too powerful.
"Get out," I whisper with difficulty. Forming words is difficult. Holding on to reality is hard. I just want to let go, but Storm needs to get away from me first.
I expect him to refuse, but he gives me a quick nod and leaves the room.
"I'm going to get your mother!" he calls as he runs away.
Finally, I can let go.
Lightning burst from my body, crashing into my mind, making everything go blank.
Chapter Three
I wake up in an unfamiliar place. Not a bad place, though.
Shelves laden with books tower above me, reaching all the way up to a high ceiling. The air smells of parchment and ink; that beautiful scent you get when you open an old book.
I sit up and look around. It seems that I'm in a library of sorts, or an archive. Those shelves are enormous. They're higher than a house, and every inch of them is packed with books and scrolls. Some books look like they're about to fall apart, others are brand new.
"And who do we have here?" someone asks, his voice rough from age.
I stand and turn around, facing an old man with the longest beard I've ever seen. It reaches beyond his belt, falling in white, smooth curls. If he wasn't thin and lanky, he could be the spitting image of how most children imagine Father Christmas.
Bright green eyes look at me through thick glasses, sitting precariously on the very tip of his nose. He's smiling at me and I immediately have a good feeling about him. It's an honest, true smile.
"Who are you?" I ask in return and his smile widens.
"Where are my manners! I'm the Librarian."
I frown. "Don't you have a real name?"
"I do, but it doesn't matter. I'm the Librarian, and that's all there is to it. Now, who are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
His smile is turning cheeky, as if he's playing with me.
"Wyn... ehm, Wynter. Where exactly am I?"
"Look around you. Isn't it obvious?"
I voice the suspicion I had since I woke up.
"Am I in the Library of Lives again?"
He gives me an approving nod. "You are indeed. Shall I give you the tour?"
I'm still looking around in wonder. For someone like me, this is paradise. The Palace Library is nothing compared to this.
"I've been in the Library of Lives before, but it looked very different. More... like an office."
He chuckles. "You were in the administration wing. This here is the heart of the Library, the place where everything comes together. Come, I'll show you."
He walks along the narrow corridor, expecting me to follow. Still a bit dazed, I hurry to keep up with his long strides. I'm breathing in the beautiful smell of old books and with every breath, my heart gets a little lighter. This place is amazing. A dream come true.
"The library is formed like a circle with twenty spokes. We're in the dark ages spoke just now, so let's go to something more modern. Although I love reading about the lives of some of the people back then," he says, looking wistfully at one of the books we pass.
"How many books are there?" I ask, having a hard time imagining that there are books from centuries ago.
The Librarian shrugs. "I've never counted, and new ones are added each day. Whenever a child is born, a new book is created. The Library makes space for them, and somehow, it lets us find what we need."
I let that sink in for a
moment, before asking, "Does that mean every person has a book in here?"
"Didn't I just say that?"
"Yes, but... there are billions of people. How can all those books fit into one room, even one as large as this?"
He laughs. "You're thinking in human terms. Here, everything is possible. The Library isn't human, it's so much more than that. Every person who's ever lived has a book here, and they're all in this room. Tell me someone random and I'll prove it to you."
"Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart." No idea why I picked my favourite composer, but for this, I suppose he's as good as any.
We finally reach the end of the Dark Ages spoke and enter a circular space with a round table in the middle, surrounded by leather chairs. On the table are heaps of old-fashioned index cards, some of them scribbled on, others unused. Pens are lying all around, giving the impression that usually, people are working here.
The Librarian takes an empty card and writes Mozart with a flourishing script onto it. The writing glows silver for a moment, then a new line of text appears.
He notices me confused look and gives me a smile. "It saves us from having to search entire spokes. The Library tells us where to go. It's rather ingenious."
Without further explanation, he walks around the table and enters a new corridor of shelves, and I have to almost run to keep up with his large strides. It doesn't take long for him to stop and look at a dark mahogany shelf board. Just like all the others, it's bending under the weight of the books tightly stashed on top of it.
He glides a finger along the spines of the books until he finds the one he's looking for. It's a red tome, bound in thick leather.
On the spine, Mozart's name is embossed in gold.
He hands me the book and looks at me expectantly.
"Open it."
I do as he asks, turning the first page with anticipation. It only states the years of his life, 1756 to 1791, but as soon as I turn the next page, it gets more interesting.
Day 1: Birth. A very unpleasant affair. Got to meet my parents and older sister.
Day 2: Christening. I cried a lot when the water touched my head.
Winter Queen: A reverse harem novel (Daughter of Winter Book 3) Page 2
