The Fairy Queen

by Jovee Winters

  “If you love something and you let it go and it doesn’t come back, did it ever truly love you?” I was pricked by my own words, and my thoughts strayed and my heart shook.

  Always, I’d blamed myself for her death, and I knew a part of me always would. But if I expected Galeta to believe my words, then shouldn’t I at least try to do the same?

  Were Hades and Aphrodite right? Had Seraphina never really loved me at all? Had any part of her ever cared?

  “Do you really believe that, Prince?”

  Yanked from my dangerous thoughts, I looked back at the pale fairy still kneeling before me. Seraphina had been the greatest love of my life. I’d never wanted another woman before or since, not with the same depth of longing. I’d vowed after Seraphina’s funeral that I would never again fall in love.

  But staring into this fairy’s eyes, I felt something unavoidable inside of me shift. A fissure that’d been wide and fractured now didn’t seem such an impossible hurdle to overcome.

  I wasn’t going to say I loved this fairy. But what I was ready to own up to was that I knew I was finally ready to let Seraphina’s ghost go. And that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t need to be alone all the rest of my days.

  “Yes, little fae, I do.”

  We went to bed that night with soft looks between us. Neither of us had felt up to leaving the safety of our hut. We’d shared dinner in silence. But the silence hadn’t been tense.

  It’d been warm, full of stolen glances and questions.

  And when she’d gone to bed, I’d stood sentry at her door. She didn’t cry once.

  Opening lazy eyes, feeling as though I’d slept twenty years rather than only a few hours, I stretched out tired muscles and moaned appreciatively.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept better. Ready to take care of my morning necessaries, I was just about to turn, when a spot of color snagged my eye.

  Whipping my head around, I stared at the fire in dazed wonder. Flames, which had once been black and gray, were now burning ruby red and deepest gold.

  Everything else was still in shades of gray. But the fire glowed. I shook my head, wondering if I still dreamed. But when I walked over to it and reached a hand inside, the warmth of it licked and danced across my flesh.

  The door behind me opened not long after. I glanced over my shoulder. Galeta looked not at me, but at the fire.

  “Is that—”

  Awed wonder caught in her throat as I nodded. “Aye, love, you’re changing things.”

  Blue eyes, far darker than I remembered them being, looked back to me. She was changing too. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew it deep in my marrow. Something had happened last night.

  Now we only had to figure out how to keep it happening.

  Chapter 13: I Killed Them All...

  Galeta

  I was afraid to step out the door, to confront whatever might be thrown at me.

  Syrith walked toward me, stopping only when he reached my side.

  “Have you counted all the grain in the wood yet?” he asked deeply, sounding completely serious, but I knew he teased me.

  Giving an exaggerated eye roll, I shook my head. I’d slept decently last night, the first time in years for me, but I still felt sleepy and muddled. And not quite ready to be teased yet.

  “You tease, and yet I am not certain I can handle what awaits me out there.”

  My fingers clenched, my nails digging sharply into my palm as my heart began to race.

  His hand slipped into mine. He didn’t look down at our joined fingers. Didn’t draw attention to his actions. He simply let me cling to him.

  Biting my lower lip, I stared without seeing at the door. “What if I can’t do this?” I whispered so low, I wasn’t sure I’d actually intended him to hear.

  But he was a dragon and clearly heard me. “You brought color into that flame, Galeta. You, not I. Not anyone else. You can do this.”

  I wasn’t certain I was making myself clear here. “But what if I don’t want to do this, Syrith?”

  He moved until his entire body faced mine, his boots scraping the tip of my bare toes, causing me to shiver at the intensity written upon his thick brows.

  “I do not know the rules of this Mirror, fae. I do know that you and I have a life to return to. We cannot remain in this place forever.”

  “But what if I can?” I pressed on. Maybe it made me a chicken, but I didn’t care right now. I suspected what awaited me outside these doors was more of the same. Visions, memories of the past I couldn’t erase. Proof of my misdeeds. “I’m safe here. Protected. Sheltered.”

  His fingers clenched mine, cutting through my frenzied and fearful thoughts. “You are a fairy. The great and powerful Blue. You were created to bring life to our realm, our world. Look at that fire, Galeta. Tell me you do not crave the colors.”

  I wanted to pinch my eyes shut and drown out his words, but I did as he asked. I looked at that fire, shielding my heart in a thick wedge of rime. Telling myself not to weaken, not to give in to the wisdom of his words.

  But as a moth to flame, I drowned in the beautiful snap and curl of rubies and gold. He was right; I did love color. And this place, this dreary, awful landscape, made me feel dead inside.

  I hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down my cheek until he swiped it up with the pad of his thumb.

  “I’m right here with you, Galeta. I will not leave your side. Whatever comes at us, we can weather this together.”

  As he’d said, he had a life to get back to. I wasn’t sure what awaited him in Wonderland. His people. His family. Perhaps even a new love. I squashed the sudden twinge of hurt that flared through me at the thought.

  Fairies did not fall in love.

  We weren’t built that way.

  Once, I might have cursed him, told him he couldn’t leave ever, that if I stayed, so would he. But he was right—he had a life, his peoples to return to. I had nothing. No family. No Buttons. No one.

  “Come, fae.” He squeezed my fingers once more. “This doesn’t have to be so bad. We know what’s coming now. We know how to protect ourselves.”

  He was saying “we,” but he really meant “you,” and I knew it. Still, it was easier pretending we truly were in this together. I nodded softly, and he flicked at a curl that’d landed on my shoulder.

  My hair had lengthened during the night. Well, lengthened wasn’t really the right word. It had softened. The impossibly tight and slightly ridiculous corkscrew curls had relaxed a fair bit, so that now I appeared to have soft waves rather than ringlets. Feeling oddly self-conscious about that, I glanced down at the floor.

  Syrith was right—I was changing, and I wasn’t sure whether I liked it or not.

  “Are you ready?” he asked me in that deep voice of his that always seemed to turn my knees to putty.

  My throat was tight. My pulse fluttering. My stomach a queasy, sick mess. I was so far from ready. He opened the door.

  Light blasted my eyes. I winced, covering them with my hand. Curiosity had made me wonder whether there would be spots of color outside too, but it was just as depressively gray as ever.

  That same path that’d led us into the Hatter’s old world awaited me. But this time there was no busy city square or people. Ahead lay a fog of thick clouds glowing with random bursts of lightning.

  He tugged, and I dug in my feet, my wings flapping erratically with my need to shove that door shut, race back to my room, and hide from the world.

  “You’re not alone today, Galeta. Trust me.”

  My eyes locked with his. Several seconds passed. He didn’t move. Didn’t say anything else. Only waited on me to decide.

  Taking a final shuddery breath, I forced my feet to move. The moment I crossed the threshold, the safety of our hut vanished.

  Gasping, I twirled, searching frantically for its landmark.

  “The same happened the last time. You’re okay, fae. You know what this mirror plans to do now. We follow the path, we find that
memory, and we return home.”

  My gaze snapped to his at his mention of home.

  More specifically to “us” returning to it.

  He nodded, causing a thick lock of dark hair to slip over his eye. I didn’t think. I simply leaned up on tiptoe and brushed it back with fingertips gone cold as ice.

  His mouth parted just slightly. I still hadn’t pulled back. My cold fingers tingled from the heat of his flesh, and I swallowed hard.

  “You promise you won’t leave me?” I asked unsteadily.

  “Never.”

  ~*~

  Harpy

  I clapped my hands, causing a rumble of thunder to roll through the thick clouds before them. But neither of them heard, locked in the intense gaze of love’s first bloom.

  “Creator,” I whispered, “you were right. She is changing, and all because of him.”

  No, my golden one, it is not he, but she.

  I frowned. “But you said—”

  Wind whispered through the long length of my hair. I said he would open up her eyes. But the change can only come from deep within one’s own heart.

  That made sense, I supposed. But watching the two of them together, witnessing their shared moment of intimacy the night before, I couldn’t help but begin to grow curious about it all.

  I understood love of one for another. But I was learning that I’d never truly understood the love between partners. The magic inherent in that kind of union.

  Galeta grew stronger because of Syrith’s belief in her.

  “The land changes, Creator. As does she. I begin to believe that she might yet overcome the seed of darkness.”

  Yes. In here, where I’ve dampened that darkness. But were she to ever leave, she’d become worse than ever before. The darkness still lives on within her, harpy.

  I sighed, wringing my hands nervously. “But that is where the vessel comes in. Where is it? You said—”

  Worry not, golden one. The vessel comes even now. But the journey is not quite done yet.

  The thought of the vessel choosing not to accept the dark curse made my chest ache. Seeing the hope spring alive in Galeta’s eyes, the promise of love in Syrith’s, I’d never wanted to see a happily ever after more than I did now.

  If anyone deserved one, it was she.

  Suddenly, fog obscured my vision, and I knew that it was the Creator’s doing.

  “What—”

  Some things, little one, should not be shared with others. And you still have a task to do. Do not forget why you’ve been sent. Soon, Syrith will be forced to meet up with another dark queen. You must prepare that realm and make certain that he does not nearly perish, as he did last time. The Prince must be protected at all costs. It is imperative now more than ever. The land rumbles, and destiny cries out to me. Galeta will restore balance once more but not without him by her side.

  Glum to my very core, because things were just beginning to get interesting between the fairy and the dragonborne, I nodded dutifully. “Aye, my Creator. I shall.”

  ~*~

  Syrith

  We walked together, arm in arm. She was quieter this time. Not quite as fearful but still alert, still slightly on edge, awaiting whatever came next.

  Now, having spent so many days together, I found myself growing exceedingly curious about the woman I’d been sent to guard.

  Our path wound through a deep forest. The fog floating ever before us, moving as we did so that we could never quite reach it. But the deeper onto the trail we went, the darker the clouds became.

  A balmy zephyr blew, bringing with it the sweet scent of honeysuckle in bloom. Her lips tipped up at the corners.

  “I love flowers.”

  Blinking, I looked at her. Galeta intrigued me, but she’d given me very little of herself in the short time we’d known one another. Rarely speaking unless I spoke first. The fact that she did so now so shocked me, I latched onto the first thought that popped into my head.

  “I’d imagine all fairies do.”

  “No.” She looked at me, and my heart skipped a beat at the sparkle in her deep-blue eyes. “Not like me.”

  Curling one hand over hers, I rubbed her knuckles lightly. “Tell me more about yourself, Galeta. I fear I know very little.”

  Giving a self-conscious snort of laughter, she lifted her brows. “I’m an open book, Syrith, or didn’t you know that?”

  I paused, realizing she’d just teased me. “Did you just—”

  Biting onto her bottom lip with her cute little fangs, she gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Hush. I know not of what you speak. I’ve a reputation to uphold, beast.”

  My cheeks hurt from grinning so broadly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  For the first time since we left the hut, she seemed far more relaxed. Expelling a deep breath, she gave her head a tiny shake. “You wish to know more about me. I’m sure I don’t know why, but I shall endeavor to answer any questions you might have.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” I asked, eyelids narrowing at this rapid turnaround. Not that I didn’t enjoy it—I certainly did—but I wasn’t altogether sure I should trust it either.

  Galeta had walls a mile high. Even in our short time together, I knew one thing with a certainty—she didn’t let others in. Was it possible I might become the exception?

  Why did my stomach suddenly feel knotted at the thought?

  Fluttering her free hand around, she said, “There’s nothing else to distract me at the moment. Perhaps talking would help ease my panic a little.”

  I hated that she was still so scared, but I understood it too. If the situation were reversed, I wasn’t sure I’d want another privy to the darkest parts of my past. Squeezing her arm just a little tighter, I grinned.

  “Then this is an opportunity too good to squander. So let me see, which question should I ask first?”

  She groaned. “Why do I suddenly regret my decision?”

  I chuckled. “I promise it won’t be so bad, fairy. Okay.” I nodded quickly. “I thought of a question. Why do you think you love flowers more than others?”

  Her shoulders visibly eased at that question, and I was glad I had started out with something simple and easy.

  “There are parts of my past, my beginnings, that I do not recall.” She blinked, and her eyes were far away from me, from here.

  Her distance gave me the opportunity to study her as I wished. Seraphina had been tall, nearly as tall as I, with long ebony hair that’d trailed down to her waist in a thick straight line. There’d been a tiny cleft in her chin, one I loved to rub my thumb across in our shared, stolen moments. Deep-brown eyes that made me feel as though I were falling whenever I looked into them.

  Galeta was the opposite in just about every way. Shorter than me by several inches, and a colorful splash of alternating shades of blue and pale white.

  When I’d first met her, she’d seemed as sharp and foreboding as the ice of her gown. But there was a gentleness to her now. The cold, unyielding features seemed more graceful, softer somehow.

  She blinked, shaking her head as though to clear away the memories, and I cleared my throat, not sure why I couldn’t seem to stop waxing poetic about this woman.

  “But I do recall one thing.” She looked at me, and my insides suddenly seemed to tumble together.

  “And that is?”

  A beatific smile wreathed her elfin features. “Flowers. The blueprints for them. All inside of here. Life.”

  She pressed a fist to her heart.

  I frowned. Blueprints implied creation that first wasn’t. Was she saying what I thought she was? “What do you mean, blueprints?”

  Blue eyes latched onto mine with open frankness. “I mean the very beginning of it all, Syrith. I was there.”

  What she said was astonishing and made me shiver. “Wait, that would mean—”

  “That I am very, very old.” She snickered. “Don’t remind me.”

  My lips twitched. Kingdom was several millions of years
old. It wasn’t possible that this nubile creature before me could possibly be that ancient. The term immortal was used rather loosely in our world, but very few beings actually were. Death could come to us all, be it by a spelled blade or killing curse. There were very few creatures around since the beginning of time.

  She sighed deeply, shaking her head. “Truly, I wish I wasn’t what I am, dragonborne, but I am what I am. I was an original fae. One of the first twelve. There are no others around, just me.”

  “What happened to them?”

  Her chin trembled, and I knew she’d not answer me. Her breathing had hitched, and she made to turn aside. But I tipped my finger beneath her chin.

  “You can tell me anything, fairy. I will not judge you.”

  “How could you not?” She sniffed. “I judge everyone. Even you.” Her laughter was sad and miserable sounding.

  “Because that’s not what I was sent here to do. I was sent here to be here for you. And at first I couldn’t understand why. You seemed like a dreadful person, one who I did not want to meet.”

  A tiny sound between a humph and amusement dropped off her tongue. “Get in line, then, beast, for you would be no different from anyone else. You want to know what happened to the original eleven? I’ll tell you, but you will not like it, and perhaps you might even start to hate me for it. I killed them. All of them. To gain their powers. But the colors could never truly be extinguished. That is not how the Creator designed us. Others came after them—some I killed, some I let live.”

  Her words were indifferent—not cold, but monotone. As though she were merely reciting a weather report. But I saw in the way her shoulders bunched and her jaw muscle clenched that she waited for me to turn on her the same way everyone else eventually had with her.

  I did not like hearing what she’d done.

  But I was learning there was far more to Galeta than what first met the eye. She was intelligent, she’d wanted their power—or at least that was what she said—but there was more. I heard the unspoken hitch in her words.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She blinked, causing the aloof mask she wore to crack just a tiny bit. “What? I told you already. I killed them for their powers. Nothing more.” She shrugged.