Frost Fire (Frost Series #6)

by Kailin Gow

  Rose turned pink. She hadn’t meant to insult Rodney – or Shasta! But seeing the two of them together – seeing how happy they were – made something in Rose’s throat tense up. They were so happy, so in love – Shasta was, for Rodney, the most important girl in the world. Rose could remember when she was the most important girl in Rodney’s world, she thought bitterly.

  Before an argument could escalate, however, Logan broke in, his calm, smooth voice soothing both sets of tempers. “Well, we know that the creatures of the Wilds are more likely to talk to Winter over Summer. We don’t know how fast news has travelled out here – they might not know that the war has ended. It’s probably good for Shasta to lead this one, then – and the rest of us should be very careful about saying where we’re from. Got it?”

  The others agreed, Rose somewhat more reluctantly than the rest.

  “Cheer up,” Alistair whispered to Rose, squeezing her hand. “It’s not so bad. In laws are always hard, huh?”

  His teasing voice couldn’t help but make Rose smile through her bitterness. She was grateful for Alistair, she realized – more grateful than she knew. Feeling his hand on hers made her feel warm and safe.

  She felt only a twinge of pain when he let go.

  Chapter 8

  Although this area was known as the “Wilds,” Rose found, to her surprise, that it was not quite as “wild” as she had feared. While this was certainly no Summer Court, Rose could spy at least one tavern as they approached the rickety cluster of houses that seemed to constitute a village, and two smaller shops. At least they would have a bed for the night, Rose thought, and hoped that there would be some food as well. Her stomach was grumbling, and she couldn’t help but regret the apple she had given to the unicorn earlier that afternoon.

  At least there was light. Every house emitted a strange, golden glow – a more powerful flame than any Rose had seen in the Summer or Winter Courts since the destruction of the Suns. Somebody here must have strong magic, she knew – magic strong enough to keep a flame like that going must belong to somebody with serious power. She couldn’t resist a small shudder. Hopefully, the owner of this powerful magic would be friendly to their cause, willing or eager to help them. But if not…

  Rose couldn’t let herself think about that right now.

  They entered the tavern and sat down warily, conscious with every move they made that they might not be welcome here. A group of fairies stood by the tavern bar – if they could be called fairies at all, Rose thought. For these looked like no Fey Rose had ever seen. These creatures were smaller than other fairies, with gleaming white skin and bodies that, though human, retained long white tails. And the horns protruding from their heads were certainly not characteristic of any Fey, Summer or Winter.

  “Unicorn-born,” whispered Logan into Rose’s ear.

  “Are they Fey?” Rose whispered back, hoping they wouldn’t hear.

  “Half,” said Logan. “They say if a woman touches a unicorn’s horn, she becomes pregnant with one of the unicorn-born…”

  Rose thought of the unicorn she had fed and said nothing. She didn’t want to think too critically about the genesis of these mysterious creatures, who had by now started to turn and stare at the newcomers in their midst.

  Shasta was the first to reply. “You may know me, friends,” she began. “I am Shasta…” her voice only faltered for a moment, “Princess of the Winter Kingdom. I visited here once with my mother when I was young.”

  “We remember,” one of the unicorn-born said, “you wanted us creatures to fight in your war – we know it well! Well, we’re not falling for that again.”

  “It was an alliance,” said Shasta, “beneficial to both parties.”

  “Until the Winter Fey and the Pixies started betraying us!” Another of the unicorn-born chimed in. “Killing us.”

  Rodney was looking grave, his eyes wandering up to the ceiling. “Rose?” he asked in a low voice.

  “We did no such thing!” Shasta scoffed. “My people are honorable people. We never betray an alliance.”

  “Rose….” Rodney whispered. “Something’s up…it’s a trap.”

  Rose followed Rodney’s gaze. Up on the wall, flitting from rafter to rafter of the ceiling, were a series of shadows darker and more sinister than any she had seen before. Shadows that bore no relation to the objects around them, no relation to the fire in the fireplace, but seemed to be moving of their own volition.

  “Something’s not right!” Rodney sprang forth, alerting Logan, Alistair, and Shasta to the trap.

  “Not right at all!” A high-pitched voice echoed throughout the room. The unicorn-born had all vanished – no trace of them remained. Rose gasped. She had heard that the strongest Fey could create illusions – but never believed in them. Until now.

  “Look out!” Logan cried, pushing Rose aside. “Above you!” A shadow swooped down towards them, and Rose felt a chill come over her. Normal shadows never caused cold like that.

  Rodney and Shasta sprang to their feet, drawing their swords. The shadows seemed to slip down the sides of the wall to the floor, converging and melding until at last the darkened outlines of unicorns, dragons, and Pegasi appeared before them. Their bodies were ill-defined, translucent, floating in mid-air.

  They were, Rose realized with a sickening surety, ghosts.

  “The Dark Hordes,” Rose whispered to Alistair, placing her hand on her dagger and hoping against hope that she’d be able to remember how to use it. “They’re here…”

  “Who are you, little girl?” It was a woman’s voice this time, strong enough to break the glasses on the table. Rose couldn’t see where the voice was coming from, but somehow she felt sure the question was directed at her. “R-rose,” she said, clearing her throat to sound braver than she felt. “Of the Summer Court.”

  “Summer, are we?” The voice shrieked out a shrill laugh. “Summer, Winter, it doesn’t matter. Both have deceived us. Both have led us to our graves.”

  “How are you here?” Rose looked wildly around. “We vanquished you – we got rid of the Dark Hordes! You should be rotting in some cave somewhere!”

  “Who says we’re from the Dark Hordes?” The woman laughed, and was soon joined by an eerie chorus of laughter.

  “Then what are you?” Logan brandished his sword, which gleamed in the firelight. “Reveal yourselves, fools!”

  The voice grew serious. “We are,” it said, with a chilling pause, “the ones who reside in the dark. We are the ones who seek revenge.”

  “Revenge?” Rose turned to Shasta. “What do they want revenge for?”

  “The War is over,” Shasta shouted. “Our dead have been buried on both sides, and both sides have mourned. We have put aside our grievances and our anger, and allowed ourselves to believe in peace. There is no time for revenge any longer. No need!”

  “You think we don’t know that?” The voices were shouting now. “You think that we don’t know that the wars are over? We know that better than anyone. We don’t share in that glory, though. Now that the suns of Feyland are gone. Now that they have banished the light and the hope – we have only darkness. Darkness and fear.”

  “Who are you?” Logan asked, trying to keep his voice even and steady. “What do you want?”

  “We are the vengeful spirits of all those who died in the War which you now so conveniently have forgotten. We all died in your battles – and in death we are united. Among us we have Pegasi and unicorns, Fey, all. And you dare to come to ask us for our help – two Summer fey, a Winter fey, an Autumn fey, and a Dire Wolf – you who turned against us in a war we never should have fought in the first place. You think we will forgive you for this? Fools! We will have our revenge.”

  “Logan, watch out!” Rose cried. The walls of the tavern seemed to collapse upon themselves, crumbling into dust. The glow of light that had seemed to come from every house in the village grew stronger, surrounding them all in a bright, sun-colored haze. “Get close together,” Rodney shou
ted, and they immediately sprang into fighting formation – back against back, their weapons held straight out in front of them as the shadows began to descend, growing ever closer.

  “Cowards!” Logan cried. “Why don’t you show yourself, instead of hiding in these shadows like the cowards you are?”

  “Cowards, eh?” The voice called back mockingly. “We’ll show you who the true cowards are – very soon, in fact. Soon you too will be afraid, my dear Wolf, you and your whole company, including that delectable little girl there…”

  “How dare you!” Logan roared.

  “What’s going on?” Rose cried, as a chill colder than any frost seemed to pass through her. “What’s happening.”

  A vague, amorphous shape appeared before them – a small, huddled, twisted-looking shape – vaguely humanoid…then more so…

  “It’s a Fey…” Shasta cried.

  “No, a pixie…” Rodney cut in.

  But Rose would recognize that toad-like, grim face anywhere. It was a face she had seen, and feared, often enough before.

  “Wort,” she said, her voice filled with bitterness.

  “That’s right, little girl.” He smiled a twisted smile. “I remember you now,” he said. “You’re Rose, aren’t you? That sweet little girl who used to be so good, so obedient. What a shame to see you allying yourself with such trash – a half-breed Queen and a spineless, Winter King. But of course, you’re just following in the path of your brother, aren’t you? Willing to throw away all his honor in order to satisfy his traitorous lust with some Winter whore!”

  “How dare you?” cried Rodney and Rose in unison.

  “Just because of love,” Wort went on. “Weak, stupid, senseless, spineless love. What a shame. What a great, great shame.”

  Rose, Rodney, and Shasta grew hot with rage, but Logan remained calm, staring Wort down with a firm, fixed expression. “I have only one question for you, Wort,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Now there,” Wort said. “You have to answer me first. What are you doing here?”

  “We came following that light we saw in the distance,” said Logan. “We’ve come to restore the Twin Suns of Feyland, Wort. Together. Summer and Winter as one. We’re united now, no more war. No more death. You’ve failed, Wort. We’re going to restore the suns of Feyland, and there will be no more tragedy. No more bloodshed.”

  Wort smirked. “Over my dead body,” he said, laughing. “Of course…you’ll never find that, will you?” His laughter seemed to echo throughout the room, and soon it was joined by many other voices – a whole invisible army of mocking jeers that made Rose’s spine tingle.

  “You don’t know, do you, fool Wolf?” Wort said.

  “Know what?”

  “Ah, piteous fool.” Wort’s grin spread widely over his misshapen face. “You’ve just walked right into our trap.”

  Chapter 9

  “Just like moths to light,” Wort went on, his tongue flicking snake-like out of his mouth as he spoke. “It couldn’t have worked more perfectly – and to think, I worried that you might be too intelligent, might slip out of our little trap here…”

  “What are you talking about?” Shasta had grown pale and her voice was shaky. Was she afraid, Rose wondered? But one look at Shasta’s blazing eyes told a different story: Rose had never seen Shasta so furious.

  “Oh, fool traitor,” said Wort, “you think that we, the Dark Inhabitants of Feyland, do not know about your quest to restore the Feyland Suns? We knew long before you arrived here – we knew from the beginning. What you were planning to do. What you could not be allowed to do. We will not allow you to restore the suns, not when their absence lets her thrive.”

  “Her?” Alistair asked.

  “The Sorceress, of course,” Wort smiled eerily. His eyes were yellow, reflecting the golden glow that surrounds them. “We will stop you – no matter what it takes. It is time for the Sorceress to rise. Time for her to take the place in Feyland to which she is entitled at long last – time for us to rule.”

  “You knew of us?” Shasta was bidding for time.

  “Of course we knew,” said Wort. “The Sorceress told us. She knows your foolish plans, and has already begun sending her legions against you. You will not be safe any longer. She will succeed in crushing you like fruit-pulp or pomegranate seeds against the ground. Nothing will remain of your foul Fey empire but ash and cinders.”

  “You’re lying,” said Alistair, more confidently than he felt. “We’ve read the prophecies. We know the stories. Your Sorceress isn’t even aware of who she is yet. She doesn’t know she’s a Sorceress – how could she be giving orders?”

  Laughter shook the room – echoes upon echoes of darkness. “She is alive,” whispered Wort. “She is around. She is aflame. She operates outside her body. The poor host may not know who it is that dwells within her – but the Sorceress knows. She knows, and she is clever. She has chosen the body of one unaware, unsuspicious, unsuspected. But her mind…ah, her mind runs free. Free to wage war. Free to do battle And now the suns have gone. And now, in darkness, she can strike!”

  And with that, the final remaining wall of the tavern crumbled into dust, and they could see the gleaming village all around them.

  “The villagers!” Rose cried out. “We have to help them.”

  But it was too late. The collection of shadows had begun to descend on them – first Wort, then the others, whose shapes they could not make out. They brandished their swords, slashing the air wildly, trying to fend off these mysterious figures whom they could neither truly see nor truly understand. Logan jumped in front of Rose.

  “Quick,” he cried, “put your back against mine – I’ll keep you safe.”

  Rose felt his warm, broad shoulders against her own. Somehow she felt safer with him there – but not by much. Her heart was still pounding. Her head was throbbing. And the more shadows she seemed to slash at, the more they reduplicated, returned, came after her.

  “But the villagers…” Rose cried. “We have to help them.”

  “What villagers?” It was a familiar woman’s voice, haughty and regal. And more than a little cruel. “Don’t you know, you silly girl?” Rose tried to place the voice, looking around for its source. “They’re all in hiding. Those that aren’t dead, I mean.”

  One of the shadows began to materialize – slowly but surely taking on a shape that Rose knew well.

  “My Queen,” she breathed automatically, as Redleaf’s tall and imperious form appeared before her. “Your Highness.”

  “I am your Highness,” scoffed Redleaf. “Or at least I was. Before you failed me, Rose. You failed me and all of the Summer Court. You think yourself good enough to be deemed a full-fledged alchemist? Why, you’re hardly more than an apprentice, a little chit of a girl.”

  “Leave her alone, Redleaf!” Rodney cried, his voice wavering. Redleaf was dead, he knew – they had all seen her die, and then had banished her once again during the final Fairy Wars. How could she still be here?

  “And you, Rodney!” Redleaf rounded upon Rose’s brother. “You have disappointed me immensely. Not only did you run off with the enemy – although for you to do so was shameful and embarrassing enough – but you also let your friends die. Your brothers. And all because you had a crush on that girl Shasta. I should have been able to kill you for your treachery that day on the gallows, but instead that fool chose to save you – and to kill me. Kill me – ha! The Queen of Summer! She should have known that knife would only hold me back for a short wild. You are a traitor in spirit, Rodney, and in action. You betrayed your whole kingdom for a girl – a girl responsible for bringing forth the Dark Hordes. What if they had won, eh, Rodney? Ever stop to consider that? How ashamed your parents would have been – knowing the death of Feyland was, in part, the fault of their precious son.”

  Rodney’s hand shook and his sword trembled; Rose could see him blanch. How did this apparition know so much about him – his worst fears, his deepest regrets
? How to hurt him the most.

  Rose whirled around and saw that Logan, too, was entranced by another figure. It was no fey like Redleaf, but rather a grizzled white wolf with a noble expression, words booming from its regal throat.

  “You have failed me, Logan,” the voice was saying. “You’ve neglected the Wolves, your brethren. And all to fight a war in which there could be no winner but the Fey – a war I sacrificed anything to keep my people free of. And then you shamed yourself before all Feyland, loving a woman whom you knew could never be yours, leading our people to slaughter because of your love for this woman.”

  “Grandfather?” Logan’s voice was shaking. “What are you doing here? Help us!”