Grave Destiny

by Kalayna Price

  The queen regarded me, assessing. “Yes. For the most part, I assume every fae in Faerie is watching to take advantage if I so much as stumble. Which was proven justified when every monarch but my dear sister sent challengers for my throne during my recent . . . illness.” And by illness, she meant when she’d been being poisoned by her nephew, but I was smart enough not to point that out. “But an opportunistic challenge is far different from colluding to instigate a war between my court and another. I must know if this was isolated or if someone thinks they can manipulate me.”

  “We do not have enough information to say, yet.”

  “What do you know?” she asked, gliding across the room, her skirts making soft shushing sounds as she moved.

  Falin still knelt on one knee, head bowed, and the queen laid a hand on the crown of his head as if he were a dog. I had to wonder if she tended to leave him kneeling because it helped her demonstrate her dominance. He was her bloody hands; she wielded him like a tool against both her own fae and the other courts, but if the bond that made him obedient to her were removed, would she actually be able to intimidate him? She’d won her throne centuries ago, so she was a force to be reckoned with, but she’d made him one as well.

  “The goblin Kordon was killed inside the shadow court, not here. He smelled honeysuckle moments before his throat was cut. After his death, he was taken somewhere outside Faerie—most likely the mortal realm—before he ended up in our court.” Falin delivered the words without inflection or acknowledgment of the slender hand on his head. The queen patted his head idly, making a small, uninterested sound, and Falin continued, “Stiofan was murdered in his bed by at least two people but possibly more. He did not see any of his attackers, nor could he confirm their identities, but he heard a voice he thought might have belonged to a former wife. We tried to interview her, but discovered she’d left the summer court a fortnight ago and we are not sure yet to which court she now belongs.”

  She slipped her fingers into his hair and grabbed a fistful, using his hair to steer his face up to look at her. I clenched my own fists, fighting my urge to tell her to let go of him. He wouldn’t have thanked me for my intervention, and it probably would have made the situation worse.

  “So you have a lot of nothing?” she asked, leaning down to loom over his still-kneeling form.

  “We know someone went through a lot of trouble to try to blame the goblin,” I said, stepping forward. I might not be able to stop her from mistreating Falin, but I could perhaps deflect some of the abuse. “But we are still investigating whether the goblin was simply an easy fall guy to disguise the true identities of the killers, or if he was a plant to cause a deeper ripple of trouble.”

  The queen glared at me for a moment. Then she released Falin’s hair, stepping away from him.

  “Then I will have to assume the worst while hoping for the best,” she said with a sigh that made her entire body droop. “My power peaks with the solstice. Perhaps I will simply declare war on all the other seasons and shadow. My dear sister will surely side with me. We could dominate all of Faerie and be done with this foolishness.”

  I gaped at her and Falin’s head snapped up, focusing on her. Her eyes were bright, full of power, but her gaze wasn’t focused on anything in the room.

  “My queen?” Falin said softly.

  The queen blinked and looked around the room as if she’d forgotten for a moment that her attendants were hovering, just out of the way, waiting to finish their work on her hair. She frowned and the glow of magic that had been leaking from her skin dimmed. She returned to her stool and motioned her attendants forward. The three female fae didn’t dawdle—that could have been hazardous for their well-being—but they didn’t exactly rush back to the queen, considering her current mood. For her part, the queen returned to regarding us in her ornate mirror.

  “Knight, I’ll want you by my side tonight. If there are designs against our court, I should show my strongest front and remind them that the ice of winter kills all their precious greenery.”

  I fought the frown trying to claim my lips and bit my tongue, because while winter could kill, definitely, life had a way of reasserting itself, like daffodils poking up through a late-spring snow.

  The queen’s gaze moved to me, and for one long moment, I was afraid she somehow knew what I was thinking, but what she said was, “Planeweaver, independent status or not, you are a part of my court. You cannot be allowed to represent me in those reprehensible clothes.”

  I took a step back, sure she was about to enchant my clothes into some sort of impractical ball gown. The fear must have been clear on my face because the queen laughed.

  “Do not fret, little Lexi. My knight has explained to me that your mortal realm wardrobe is deplorably limited and does not have any room for reduction—even if my changes would be vast improvements. My seamstresses have prepared something appropriate for you.” She cut her gaze to one of her handmaids. “Go and make sure she is properly attired for the evening. And store that shamble of an outfit somewhere she can collect it later.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the little fae said, handing her combs and pins to another of the handmaids. Then she turned and unfurled large wings that resembled an intricate snowflake. She flitted silently toward me—defying physics with lazy beats of wings that should have been too small to lift her, to say nothing of the lacelike holes in the thin membranes. Yet she moved smoothly and hovered in front of me, two and a half feet off the ground, putting her at eye level. “If you will follow me, lady planeweaver.”

  She fluttered toward the door. I shot one last look where Falin still knelt on the ground, but it wasn’t like I had a choice but to follow the ice fae.

  * * *

  • • •

  The dress could have been worse. I kept reminding myself of that fact. The top was a shimmery pale blue corset with silver piping. The skirt was silver with soft blue snowflake embroidery and at least a dozen layers of petticoats. It was sleeveless, which seemed completely impractical for an outdoor celebration on the Winter Solstice, regardless that Faerie was always comfortably warm, even in the snow. The corset also had hard boning that, once tightened, prevented me from taking a deep breath, to say nothing of anything practical like bending. Oh, and the gown had a train.

  A train.

  I was going to fall over myself all night.

  My boots had been confiscated, replaced by a pair of pale heels, and my simple white gloves had been traded for long blue satin ones that reached the middle of my biceps. I felt like I was auditioning for Cinderella. Except if the queen was a fairy godmother, she was a demented one who wanted me to stand around like a doll, not meet a prince.

  The worst part of the entire ensemble wasn’t that I was going to sprain my ankle, or that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. It was that there was no good way to carry my dagger. The enchanted blade used to unnerve me with its bloodlust, but it had gotten me out of quite a few tight spots in the past. Most of my magic was useless in Faerie. I was not about to walk around unarmed as well.

  “There is a truce that lasts for the entire revelry,” the frost fae said, disapproval threaded thickly through her words. “You don’t need a weapon.” Her tone implied a lady never needed a weapon, but particularly at this occasion.

  I didn’t care. The skirt was completely unmanageable. Even if I cut a slit in it, I wouldn’t be able to dig through all the layers to reach a thigh holster. I couldn’t bend to reach my calf, and without boots or anything to support the holster, it wouldn’t have been secure. I tried wedging it into the top of the dress, but there was barely room for me in the corset. The dagger and sheath definitely couldn’t fit. I briefly entertained trying to use the dagger as a hair ornament, but while my hair drove me nuts sometimes, I liked it too much to let the dagger slice half of it off by accident. The frost fae insisted that it would be an insult if the dagger was visible—or even hidden with
glamour, not that I could have hidden it myself. When I refused to leave it behind, she finally relented and found a clutch purse. It was small and the same frosty blue as my dress with a chain of sparkling ice. It wasn’t perfect, but the dagger fit, so it worked.

  The frost fae was now attempting to tame my dirty-blond curls into something fashionable. She kept muttering very pretty-sounding words in the musical language of the fae that I suspected were none too kind. Her large, pupil-less eyes narrowed as a clump of curl escaped, but she caught it deftly, spinning it to join the rest. She must have had a lot of practice, because her own hair wasn’t exactly organic-looking but resembled icicles protruding from her scalp.

  “Did you know Icelynne?” I asked, because she looked similar enough to have been the cousin of the ghost fae who haunted my castle.

  Her hands went still. A few months ago I wouldn’t have been able to identify the emotions that flashed over her not-completely-humanoid features, but I’d been around Icelynne quite a bit, and this fae’s reflection in the mirror showed first shock and then sorrow before landing on anger. She pulled my hair hard, giving it one more twist before ramming a silver comb into it roughly enough to send a stabbing pain down my scalp.

  “You’re done,” she declared, fluttering backward.

  I turned toward her. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  She frowned at me. She had no eyebrows, but judging by the way she cocked her head, she was considering my not-quite apology and it puzzled her.

  “You spend your time with the queen’s bloody hands, so perhaps you do not know, but we do not speak of those who are no longer with us.”

  I blinked at her. “Ever?”

  “Once we take our mourning black off, never. They are gone. We live.” Her wings folded and she sank to the ground. She was only about two feet shorter than me, but she seemed even smaller as she wrapped her thin arms around herself. “But if I spoke of her, I would tell you she was my sister,” she said, her voice very small, and I wished I’d never brought it up.

  I considered telling her that while Icelynne was dead, her soul had not moved on yet. But I’d already put my foot in my mouth pretty hard. I’d met Icelynne after she’d already been murdered, and she’d been dead for our entire acquaintance. I’d talked to her just this morning, so I hadn’t thought about how hurtful it might be to mention her. Considering this fae’s stance on not speaking of the dead, I wasn’t sure if learning her sister was still around would be comforting to her or devastating, so I remained silent as she led me back to the queen and what was sure to be the longest night of the year in more ways than one.

  Chapter 12

  I sucked at being scenery.

  Not that I felt bad about that fact. I was bored and fidgety and it hadn’t even been half an hour since Maeve had told me to stand in my spot and look pretty. She’d used those words: Stand there and look pretty.

  Yeah. No. That wasn’t in my repertoire. But as I didn’t want to piss off the queen, I was trying.

  The passages to Faerie would switch over soon, and every door would open to the winter court. Fae from all over Faerie and the mortal realm alike would pour into the clearing and a night and day of merriment would commence. The snow-covered field where we were standing currently looked rather small, but the more fae who arrived to fill it, the bigger it would get. Faerie magic was amazing and weird.

  There was a sense of excitement stirring in the fae around me. Anticipation. Joy. Already I was hearing soft whispers of “be merry” as well as wistfully mentioned remarks about hoping particular singers or dancers from other courts would be attending, or even speculations about the food. I listened only because it was a good distraction, but in truth all I was looking forward to finding right now was a chair. I was tired, and the damned heels I’d been provided pinched my feet. Enchanted for comfort they were not.

  Maeve was in charge of the court’s first-impression appearance. The court gentry were to look casual and yet undeniably elegant where they congregated just off to the left of the enormous carved ice dais supporting the queen’s throne. The handmaids were arranged to be frozen flowers waiting on their queen. The two remaining members of the queen’s council were the closest group to her throne, standing on the dais itself, and Maeve described their role as being dignified attendants. I was part of none of these groups, placed alone near the foot of the dais. Maeve hadn’t described what my role was in this living picture she was creating, but I could guess. I was the queen’s prized pet. Her rare planeweaver that no other court could boast. Goody.

  “Stand up straight, planeweaver,” Maeve hissed under her breath as she swept one last glance over the people she had so carefully arranged. “It will do. She’s coming.” And with that, she hurried to her own place on the dais.

  The throne and dais faced an opening in the dense wood line that was framed by frost-covered hawthorns. The queen emerged from the shadows under the hawthorns, her arm casually draped through Falin’s. They made a striking pair: she petite and dark-haired, wearing all silver and white, and he tall and fair, wearing a blue so dark it was nearly black with just a touch of silver throughout. Something constricted deep in my chest, sending painful stabs down to my stomach, as I watched them walk up the path to the dais.

  Falin, for his part, stared straight ahead. I had no doubt he was aware of everything around him; he was the queen’s knight, after all, and would be expected to spot and react to any threats against her, but he never seemed to look anywhere but straight ahead. Or maybe he simply didn’t look at me.

  I’m not sure what expression I wore, but when the queen saw me, she smiled. It was a private smile, beautiful and terrifying. Then she moved her hand slightly, laying it more firmly possessive on Falin’s arm as they walked. The stabs in my gut turned hot, angry, though I couldn’t have said if I was more angry at her for being a royal bitch, or myself for reacting. I tore my gaze away, not giving her the satisfaction of watching me watch her.

  She daintily lifted the edge of her skirts and mounted the dais, Falin still at her side. The glimmering cloak of snow she wore glowed in the last few rays of sunset. That was no metaphor; the cloak was all magic and freshly fallen snow. As she had walked up to the dais, it had immediately obscured her and Falin’s footprints with a blanket of snow as it trailed behind her. Now that she’d mounted the carved ice, it seemed content to cease leaving snow in its wake.

  Magic. So very much magic filled the air. Like the large snowflakes that fell all around, keeping the blanket of snow covering the field looking untouched, and yet not a single flake had landed on me, and I would have noticed as my shoulders were completely bare.

  “Knight, you will be on my right tonight,” the queen said, gesturing. Then she half turned, opening her mouth as if she would address someone else. Someone who wasn’t there.

  Ryese. The queen’s nephew had traditionally been on her left, but now that his treachery had been revealed, the spot was vacant. Had he been more patient, Ryese likely would have been the Winter Prince one day. Now he was exiled, and judging by the condition he’d been in when I’d last seen him, quite possibly dead.

  The queen snapped her mouth closed, her lips thinning in her forced smile. It was only a momentary hesitation, but if I’d caught it, I knew others had as well. I didn’t like the queen. Fear her? Yeah. But actually respect her? Not so much. But this small slip would be viewed as a potential weakness by those who wished to seize more power for themselves. I cared only because anyone who wanted to challenge the queen had to go through Falin first. He was good, but how many duels could he fight without eventually losing?

  The queen climbed to her throne and sat, gazing out over her gathered courtiers. I fidgeted with the purse holding my dagger. Everyone seemed riveted to the last few rays of light sinking over the tree line. The anticipation in the air was almost tangible.

  As the glow of light dimmed in the horizon, somet
hing in the air changed. A new type of energy filled the field and a collective gasp rushed through the courtiers present. The frost fae who’d helped me dress held out her arms, as if embracing some unseen force, and a pale fox-eared woman tilted her head back, breathing in deeply.

  “What’s going on?” I mouthed to the frost fae closest to me.

  “The doors have shifted,” she said with a smile, fluttering her wings to lift herself higher in the air. “All mortal belief in the world is now rushing into winter. Can’t you feel it?”

  I frowned. I supposed I felt something. Definitely an energy shift. But the fae around me were acting like the change was a form of nourishment, or maybe ecstasy. I definitely wasn’t feeling anything like that. Even the queen seemed to relax into her throne, at least as much as her corset would allow, and take a moment to relish whatever it was she felt pouring into her court. Falin still stood alert and wary behind her, but there was a certain softness to the edge of his eyes, a small tilt to his lips, that told me he was experiencing what everyone else was. Apparently I was the only one left out. I wasn’t sure if that was because everyone else was a courtier and I was only an independent, or if I was less fae than people thought. This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d not felt Faerie the way others did.

  A gong resounded across the field, and the fae gathered themselves, though some seemed a little more lost in euphoria than others. The queen sat upright, shooting a glance across those of us placed around her throne before turning toward where the very last glow was fading. It winked out, and the queen pushed out of her chair.

  “The longest night is upon us,” she proclaimed in a voice that resounded through the clearing, as she threw up a hand in emphasis.

  A loud cheer rose, louder than I would have thought possible, and I turned back around to discover that the clearing was now much larger than it had been. Thousands of fae were gathered in the newly enlarged space. Some I recognized as independents from Nekros, but far more were complete strangers. More trickled into the clearing from between the archway of hawthorn trees, some alone, others in groups as large as a dozen. All were independents. The courts would arrive with more fanfare.