by Kailin Gow
“Well, it can’t be me,” said Breena with a forced laugh. “Why would I dream about attacking myself?”
“It could be symbolic?” said Shasta, too quickly. “One side of your nature destroying the other side…”
“I doubt it,” said Breena. “I’d know if I were the Sorceress, wouldn’t I? I certainly think I’ve managed to prove my loyalty by now.”
Kian wrapped his arms around Breena. “Haven’t we learned this by now?” He held her tighter. “She is the bravest warrior in Feyland – far more loyal to it than many who were born here.”
“Agreed,” said Rodney. “It would make no sense for it to be Breena.”
“Absolute nonsense!” A booming, authoritative voice joined the fray. “I happen to know for a fact that Breena loves Feyland more than anything!” Logan had been a bit too eager in jumping to Breena’s defense, and the room fell into an awkward silence. Kian stared Logan down for a while. At last, like the wolf he was, Logan nodded his head, patting Kian on the arm and forcing himself to give Breena the friendliest, least-romantic hug he could muster.
Rose could sense Logan’s pain. Surely the others saw it, too – but her empathy was deeper, more profound. Back home Rose had started work as a Harvester Fairy, finding food, communing with animals, learning to follow their instincts, to feel what they felt. Was she feeling that same connection now with Logan – her mind and body responding to the tortured Wolf in him?
“Look,” said Logan. “Kian and I agree on one thing – well, at least one thing. If Breena’s in danger from the Sorceress, the last thing she should do is go looking for trouble. Not when her kingdom needs her. It isn’t like the old days, Bree…” His voice grew soft. ‘You’re grown up now. About to be married. With responsibilities. You can’t go questing any longer…you’re the Queen of all Feyland, now. And Feyland needs you here.”
“But I can fight…” Breena protested.
“You can fight from here.” Logan and Kian agreed.
“You and Kian need to rule from the castle,” said Logan. “But I’m not needed here – none of us are. We can go off in search of the Sorceress…find her and figure out how to bring her down.”
Breena sighed, but it was clear from her face that she knew Logan was right. “Okay,” she said. “But…you come back safe, okay?”
“I promise.” Logan knelt down and kissed her hand. Rose could feel his longing as palpably as if she was experiencing it herself.
“Then we’d better start preparing for the trip.”
Chapter 3
Breena, Kian, Rodney, and Shasta retired swiftly to their chambers, gathering what armor and supplies they could provide to send off with the group. Breena in particular was poring through the books in her library, looking for any maps or information that might help the others. Only Logan and Alistair hung back in the courtyard. Rose had decided to go straight to her room and start packing, but something held her back. She and Alistair had been unable to reconcile properly under the eyes of others – but did he still feel something for her? She couldn’t stop herself from creeping back towards the courtyard, hiding behind a pillar, and listening in on Logan and Alistair’s conversation.
“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” Logan said, clapping Alistair up in a hug. “You look well.”
“And you…” said Alistair. “It has been a long while. Are you…recovering well?” He was being as tactful as possible, but Rose knew that Alistair was speaking, however obliquely, of Breena. After all, the entire kingdom knew Breena and Logan were once engaged when Breena first became the Summer Queen and Logan her Captain of Arms.
“I do what I must do,” said Logan stoically. “I support my Queen as best I can.” He gave a bit of a forced laugh. “But enough about me, friend. Tell me about you! Last we spoke you told me there was a Summer girl you loved who resided in this very castle…”
“I did.” Alistair was turning a faint shade of pink, and to her surprise Rose found that she was turning pink too.
“Have you seen her yet?”
“Not for long…” Alistair said with a sigh. “And only just for a moment…just now…”
Rose's heart began to soar. So Alistair did still think of her in that way!
“Then…” Logan was putting two and two together. “You don’t mean…Rose?” Alistair’s blush, spreading out over his handsome face, gave the game away. Logan laughed and clapped Alistair’s shoulder. “The two alchemists – who once trained together! It all makes sense now!” His teeth shone white as his mouth broadened into a smile. “I really should have seen that one coming,” he added.
“It's been a long time,” Alistair said. “She’s grown and become even more beautiful than I remembered her. Her hair has become more auburn than red, and her figure more womanly…perhaps she's forgotten what we had. But I know that, despite all the girls of the Summer Court, nobody ever made quite the effect on me than she did. I only saw her just now – that was it…for all I know, she might not even think of me any longer”
“I do!” Rose wanted to shout, but she stayed silent, embarrassed at her eavesdropping.
“Well, go to her!” Logan said. “Ask her yourself! You've never been one for shyness, Alistair – I know that about you. Never seen you blush around a girl before! Just ask her! After all, she’s just around the corner, listening to every word we’ve been saying.”
Blast. Rose had forgotten about Logan’s super-strong hearing for a moment. She sheepishly trudged forth from behind the column.
“Hi.” Rose tried to smile as charmingly as she could, but her nose was turning bright scarlet and her cheeks had gone crimson.
“Hi.” Alistair looked down, but beneath his blush Rose could determine a sly, even impish grin.
“I’ll…ah…leave you to it,” said Logan, smiling at them both. “Five years is a long time. You two should get reacquainted. I’ll go find Kian and start collecting supplies.”
Rose couldn’t help following Logan with her eyes as he left. He was so confident – yet never arrogant – so ready to treat every situation with a laugh and good humor. Even his own. Rose's heart broke for him as he left. Does everybody pair up without you, Logan?
“So, Rose…” Alistair cleared his throat. He took a few strands of Rose's hair, stroking them softly, twining them around his finger. “You look…well...you look well. I mean pretty. Really pretty. I've seen a lot of girls in Autumn Springs – but you outclass them all.”
“You too,” Rose said quickly, almost automatically. But as Rose took him in properly for the first time, she knew that what she was saying was true. He was taller now, his shoulders broader and more developed. He may not have had Logan’s mass or girth, but he was certainly elegant and sleek, like Prince Kian. He was of aristocratic fey blood, the heir to Autumn Springs, which had been a neutral territory during the War of the Seasons. “Not so bad yourself, I mean.”
She gave him a friendly hug, lingering too long at his neck.
“I missed you,” he said at last. “I mean – I missed you a lot. I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past few years. An awful lot.”
Rose looked into Alistair’s eyes. They were shining with joy and relief. The rest of him may have changed, but those eyes were still the same: the innocent, bright eyes of the boy Rose had loved when she was only thirteen and everything was new to her. Even love. Was it love? It was so long ago…Rose had been so new to everything. After all, Alistair was her first real kiss.
Do I love him still? Rose remembered how heartbroken she had been when he had left to return to Autumn Springs after the pixie invasion, how many times she had wept into her pillow, sure that she would never see him again, that he would forget her. But now he stood before her, a tall and handsome man, a man who apparently had remembered just as she did the magic of the time they spent together.
But why couldn’t she get Logan out of her head? For all her attraction to Alistair, Rose could still smell the intoxicating scent of Logan’s musk
in the air – the scent of woods and firs and fire. Rose could still see his face before her when she closed her eyes. To her, Logan was the ideal male, the kind of male whom a girl can be a girl with, the kind of male whom she can let go of being so strong. No wonder Breena loved him, too. For although Breena loved Kian as her fey equal, Logan had always been Breena’s rock. Rose sighed. Such a complicated relationship. Fey did not, should not have to worry about such a thing, yet as her fond memories of Alistair mixed in with her thoughts of Logan, she was beginning to think fey and humans or the SIGHTLESS ones, as she called them, were not so different from each other.
“Did you miss me too?” Alistair smiled at Rose, his eyes twinkling with flirtation.
“Yeah,” Rose whispered right back at him. “I did.” It was true. Whatever else Rose felt or didn’t feel for Logan, she couldn’t deny that she had spent so many nights dreaming of the beautiful boy with the long blond hair that had given her her first kiss, her first taste of love.
He stroked her hair, placing his fingers softly against the nape of her neck.
“I’m sorry for listening in…” Rose whispered.
“No, I’m glad you did.” Alistair beamed. “Now you know. And if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be able to have this moment alone right now…”
He leaned in with a smile, his lips coming ever closer to hers. Rose could feel his breath upon her mouth. Rose closed her eyes, waiting for their lips to touch, waiting to melt into his kiss…
“Hey!” A voice broke apart their reverie. They quickly stepped back and separated. Shasta ran towards us. “The feast is ready!” Shasta announced. “If we’re going to set out tomorrow morning, we can’t do it on an empty stomach. You’ll want to get changed in ten minute’s time – we’re not saving any extra fairyfruit punch for you!”
She ran off again, spreading the announcement of the feast around the palace.
“Yeah…” Alistair was blushing again.
“Yeah…”
The moment was gone. Although Rose still ached to kiss him, they knew that there were bigger things to tend to.
“See you at the feast, Rose,” Alistair took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
“See you!” Rose called after him as he vanished.
Blast, Rose thought, shaking her head. This quest is certainly going to be interesting.
Chapter 4
The feast was a far less elaborate affair than most palace banquets Rose had been to. While a fire still blazed in the stone fireplace in the center of the Great Hall, and the smell of aromatic roasting meat still wafted into all their nostrils, the festivities as a whole were rather subdued. The magicians and fairies alike were conserving their magic, Rose knew – the servants had to cook with minimal flame in order to maximize their abilities to create light and heat around the castle. The protective spell that surrounded the palace walls was taking up the energy of most of the palace's best magic practitioners. Even to think about decadence seemed inappropriate – when Feyland was in such danger, experiencing such troubled times, how could any of them conceive of celebrating?
Rose looked over at Breena, who was clad in a simple silk dress made of woven gold and silver thread. This was no time for her to celebrate, Rose knew. Although Rose could see in her eyes when she looked at Kian how desperately she wanted to marry him at last, Rose knew too that their nuptials would not be solemnized for a while. How could they celebrate their love when so many Fey were mourning the loss of those they cared for? How could they throw a wedding feast suitable for the King and Queen of All Feyland when so many fairies were using every last ounce of magic to heat and light their tiny homes? Rose looked over at Kian, whose dazzling blue eyes seemed to give off more fire than a hundred of these barely flickering magical flames. His pain, Rose knew, must have been pain two-fold – not only did he have to begin his tenure as King by trying to pull Feyland back from the brink of destruction, but he also had to hold himself back once again from marrying the woman of his dreams – the one he loved. His Breena.
Rose couldn't help but sigh as she watched the two of them together. His love for her was so palpable, so clear in every action he took. When she leaned over to pour the wine he put out a hand to help her; when she turned to survey her kingdom he turned with her, keeping his shining eyes ever upon her face. Would she too ever experience love like that, Rose wondered? Love so great, so strong, it had survived even the darkest days of the fairy wars?
Rose wondered if Logan was pondering the same question. While Rodney and Shasta kissed in a corner of the Great Hall, and the rest of the fairies – Summer and Winter alike – began to dig into their sumptuous victuals, Logan barely touched a bite of his roast pork. His fork hung limply from his fingers. His eyes were on Breena and Kian, boring into them. He watched as Kian lightly brushed Breena's shoulders with his lips; he watched as Breena and Kian fed each other slices of fairyfruit cake. He tormented himself with each vision, suffering more and more as he watched them fall deeper and deeper in love at every moment, and yet he did not turn away.
Poor Logan, Rose thought. Surely there had to be someone out there for him – someone who would love him as much, if not more, than he loved Breena. And surely he would fall in love with her, too! And then...Rose shook her head. While the fairy disapproval of romantic love was far stronger in Winter than it had ever been in Summer, she had still nevertheless been raised to believe that love was far too dangerous to be taken lightly by any magical being. Yet could love really be that dangerous – that cruel – making Logan fall for Breena, who loved Kian, and not letting Logan be loved by anyone else in return? Surely there had to be a girl out there who could make him forget Breena, who could make him love her, who could give him all the love he deserved. A girl like...
No, Rose told herself. Don't even think about it, Rose.
Rose recognized many of the attendants at the court that night. Barnaby was there, as cheerful as ever, as were a number of Rodney and Kian's old friends – soldiers who had once fought on opposite sides of the war, but who now ate and drank and toasted together with all the joviality of brothers. Alistair was standing in the center of the room, bowing to a round of applause.
“For my next trick,” he was saying, “I will create a cloud of rose-smoke in this very room – a smoke that will settle upon those in the room who are most afflicted by the pains of love.”
Everybody laughed and cheered, their eyes going straight to Breena and Kian. Alistair's magic tricks had always made him a favorite at parties, and his parlor-tricks were not lost on them here: in the absence of greater splendor, Alistair's simple shows of magic were even more welcome than usual.
“Ta-da!” he cried, as a cloud of pink smoke burst forth from the beaker, settling immediately in a halo over Breena and Kian. The crowd cheered, crying out Breena and Kian's names over and over again. Another cloud settled upon Rodney and Shasta, and Rose couldn't help but smile when Shasta turned bright, beet-red. Only Rose noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a third cloud of rose-smoke settling upon Logan's head. Did the others notice too, she wondered? They were not looking at him – perhaps they, like her, pretended that they did not see.
Rose couldn't take her eyes off Alistair. With his long golden hair and his easy charm Alistair managed to be at once beautiful and approachable. Rose felt safe around him – safe and comfortable. And yet when Rose remembered how wonderfully nervous she had been, how thrilling it all was, back when he had given her that very first kiss five years ago, it seemed at once so far away and yet so terribly near. Was he the one she was meant to love, Rose wondered – or was it all just some childhood game? Looking at him now, his shining eyes meeting her own, Rose couldn't resist the familiar stirrings of longing within her heart.
Yet when the dancing began, it was Logan who first asked Rose to dance. He was doing so out of kindness, no doubt, Rose noted, knowing that as long as Rodney was in the room, other Fey would be too intimidated to ask but yet as he wrapped his strong arms around
her and helped her glide onto the marble floor, Rose sighed as she felt her body melt into his. He smelled so good – a cool, woodland musk smell that reminded her of pine cones and the crunchy fir-needles of early December. And he moved with such confidence, such grace, his body rocking gently against her own. Rose couldn't stop herself: she closed her eyes, leaning into him, wanting the rhythm and the melody to never end, wanting to stay like this, always like this....
The first dance came to a close and the couples all clapped eagerly. Rose flushed scarlet as the sound of applause brought her back from her reverie, hoping Logan hadn't noticed quite how much she had enjoyed dancing with him. It was Alistair's turn to ask her to dance, now; he bowed formally and took her hand, resting it lightly in his own. If Logan was a more confident, powerful dancer, then Alistair was more playful, more relaxed – they danced a sprightly, acrobatic jig, their bodies rushing to keep time with the music. A broad smile spread across Alistair's face; Rose couldn't stop herself from laughing as her cheeks turned pink and her panting grew breathless. Alistair wasn't afraid to look a bit silly as they danced – if anything, he reveled in the sheer uninhibited joy of movement.
