Stone Queen

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “She’s not a part of it. I would feel it if she’d made herself part of the palace. Instead, I feel nothing of her in this statue.”

  “Kidnapped?”

  “Nay, I would have felt her leave. It’s just as if she…” The king breathed hard, moving aimlessly as he searched for a sign, anything that would explain why his wife had cast herself into stone.

  “She is not dead,” Kalen said, though Merrick could tell by the look on his face he had no way of knowing that for sure. “We must have faith that she is safely buried within this statue waiting for the right spell to free her once more.”

  “I should have called you here sooner. I knew her powers were growing. Mayhap she could not control them. Mayhap we are wrong to think uncontrolled powers merely cause explosions.” Merrick tried to will her from the stone, as he willed the castle to move. It didn’t work. “If there was a reason, she would have left me a message. She would not leave me, not like this, not alone. She promised…”

  Merrick stopped once more before his wife. Kalen touched her again, laying both hands on her. He shook his head in denial, signifying he felt nothing of her.

  “No one can know of this. She’s too vulnerable. I must hide her. I cannot let the vision I saw in the basin come true. I will not have her blood on my hands.” He would never harm Juliana and he refused to let anyone else. “The statue must be protected.”

  “The Black Garden,” Kalen said. “She’ll be safe there. No one but you will be able to touch her. Take her to the center of the garden until we can discover a way to free her.”

  “Leave us, Kalen,” Merrick ordered. “Tell no one of my queen. Seek out powerful wizards, whoever you have to. Read them. Find an end to this. I cannot lose her. Not now. I need her.”

  It was the closest he’d ever come to saying his feelings for her out loud to another person. Kalen obeyed, leaving him alone with his frozen wife in the bedchamber.

  “Juliana, fate cannot take you from me now. I only just found you,” Merrick whispered, knowing by the magic around him that her state was not easily undone. “You promised to stay with me.”

  Chapter Two

  Two years later…

  Tegwen Army Encampment, Mystic Forest, Immortal Realm 1408 AD

  Five more dead. The victims of the war piled upon King Ean’s blessed soul as the news of each death came back to the encampment. Some were friends from childhood, others elfin soldiers he’d known his whole life. For over two years he fought his brother’s armies, never fully understanding why Merrick shot the first arrow of war. Did the Unblessed King truly hate him for taking what was his? Ean didn’t have a choice. Merrick, the oldest, couldn’t rule both kingdoms and the other two brothers, Ladon and Wolfe, were lost to them. Ean had been the only brother left who could take the responsibility. He did so without complaint, though deep inside he understood that the throne should have never been his. He hadn’t wanted it.

  Until Juliana’s brother, William the Wizard, found the two lost princes in King Lucien’s prison, they thought them dead. Now Wolfe was still trapped in the Fire Palace and Ladon lived as a mortal, disguised as an earl, taking the place of another of Juliana’s brothers—the new faery king, Hugh of Bellemare. A third brother, Sir Thomas, was with Ladon in the Mortal Realm.

  The Blessed King had seen Merrick on the field of battle, but naught was said about finding peace. When they were simply blessed brothers, they carried a deep connection, an understanding that only brothers could know. But when Merrick became unblessed and they’d lost Ladon and Wolfe, all that changed. Though still connected, the bond was strained.

  When Merrick kidnapped one of Ean’s blessed wards from the Mortal Realm, Lady Juliana of Bellemare, the act was thought to be one of war. However, Merrick surprised them all and made the woman his queen. For a time, right after, there had been a calmness to the lingering connection between them. The normal melancholy left the Unblessed King, giving Ean reason to hope that someday his brother might come back to him.

  Then, on no particularly special day, the connection changed once more, becoming worse than it had ever been. Ean worried for Merrick, wondering what could have caused such a sudden shift in him. Hugh had told him about Juliana’s stone prison, claiming the Unblessed King had her locked away in his garden, forever unchanging. Hugh suspected Merrick had a hand in Juliana’s state. Could it be the man was right? Ean had to admit he wondered himself. Was Juliana’s prison due to the child, a child who should have never been conceived? For Merrick, by the very nature of being unblessed, should not have been given a blessing so great as a child. By all accounts the child she carried was Merrick’s. Since her pregnancy was an impossibility, he guessed that fate found a way to stop what should not be. Did the child and mother die, leaving a statue in their stead? Did Merrick punish Juliana? In truth, Ean had no way of knowing. No one had news of Juliana or her baby—not even the mystics.

  Only a few from his camp knew the secret of the Unblessed Queen’s state. Hugh only told Ean because the man had hoped the blessed could help. Ean had looked into it, but the truth was he needed to focus most of his energies into finding a way to free Wolfe from his imprisonment. He did not know Juliana, only of her, and had no real reason to see the Unblessed Queen free without knowing why she was trapped in the first place. It wasn’t as if Merrick asked for his help in the matter.

  “Why, Merrick?” Ean mumbled, thinking again of the war.

  “My king?” Commander Adal stopped in his approach, giving him a questioning glance. He wore the red tunic of the Tegwen guards. It hung down over his legs, parting in the front. As head of the light elfin guard, answering only to King Ean, he’d proven himself a capable leader.

  “Settling things in my mind,” Ean said. “It’s naught.”

  “We should move the encampment.” Commander Adal did not question the king. “Word came from King Hugh that the faeries detected a patch of dead forest near here. They work to fix it, but he worries Merrick’s men come too close.”

  “Even as a mortal he couldn’t seem to stay out of our affairs,” Ean mused. “Now as a faery, methinks he longs for a reason to be called to join us.”

  “Faeries have their place in the war and it is not in battle, but in our beds, lifting our spirits and fueling our energy.” Adal chuckled at the thought. Many of the faeries came to the encampment. Power and magic could be made from such things as passion and pleasure. “And important role that is, too.”

  “I’m sure that is a role King Hugh would not wish to play.”

  “And the happier I am for it,” Adal jested. “I don’t favor men in my bed.”

  “Methinks it cannot be easy going from mortal warrior to faery,” Ean said.

  “I suppose you’re right, but regardless he’s a faery by his own choice.”

  Sunlight glowed over the encampment, falling in streams from amongst the tree branches overhead. Nearby a clearing covered with tiny blue flowers grew, leading in a trail over the floor as if following the steps of faery feet. Undoubtedly, the faery women who’d been at the camp the night before had left the flowers. Sweet perfume carried on the afternoon breeze, making Ean forget for a moment that he did not wish to be there. Tents jutted from the ground, a haphazard pattern like the growing of trees, connected only by the light patches of earth worn into paths.

  “Strange that he takes up our cause when Merrick is married to his sister,” Adal said. “Though I sent men to the forest to check and he tells the truth about the worn grass.”

  “There is no mystery. Hugh still believes we can save Juliana from Merrick. He does not like the Unblessed King.” Hearing a neigh, Ean glanced to where a few of his unicorn mounts grazed. Their majestic bodies rippled with muscles as they walked, the velvet of their coats gleaming with the waving patterns of light. “He blames Merrick for her stone prison.”

  “A mystery, to be sure.”

  “Aye, one we will not solve. Thankfully, it’s not our mystery.” Ean glanced at him. “You d
idn’t come to speak of my brother’s wife. What is it?”

  “Have you heard?” Adal asked, his mood instantly darkening. “Five more in last eve’s skirmish.”

  “Aye, just this hour past.” Placing his hands on his hips, Ean looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. The perfumed air no longer gave any pleasure, nor did the perfect breeze he had the wizard maintain over the encampment beneath the protective shield conjured to hide their location. “Flannan of the Green, the brothers Aubert and Bardolph, Yves the Archer and Griffen of the North Valley. Their families will have to be told.”

  “Ivon awaits your missives and will ride as soon as you’re ready.”

  Ean reached into the neck of his long tunic. Maroon embroidery accented the white cream-colored material. Falling to just below his knees, a matching pair of breeches hung loose about his legs. A crown wrapped his forehead, the gold dipping down in front before disappearing beneath the locks of his long blond hair. Pulling out four letters bound with ribbon, he handed them to Adal. “Already done.”

  Adal took them, holding them to his side as he continued talking. “Onfroi arrived. I directed him to your tent.”

  Ean glanced instantly toward the center of the camp. “I must speak with him at once. He comes with news from outside the Fire Palace.”

  “That’s the fifth wizard you sent to test the palace’s defenses,” Adal said, looking almost instantly sorry for his hasty observation.

  “And I will send a thousand more if it means freeing my brother. I will find a way into the palace. I have to. It’s not as if Lucien will just let Wolfe go now that we know he’s alive.” Irritated, Ean marched off. He understood the commander’s first concern was for the war, but the king could not give up on his brother. Over fifty years had been wasted not realizing the man was there. Now he knew Prince Wolfe was alive and he’d find a way to save him.

  Black Palace of the Unblessed, Kingdom of Valdis

  “Fly away, boy, naught has changed since your last visit here.” Merrick didn’t bother to look up from where he lounged over the arms of his throne. Juliana’s place beside him was gone, her seat banished into the castle floor so as not to remind him that his wife could not sit in it.

  “I’ve brought another potion to try.” King Hugh did not pause in his stride as he moved across the stone. Merrick already knew the man had brought something. Juliana’s brother always brought a potion or a spell each time he came. The man had exhausted nearly all the faery magic and still did not give up his quest to free his sister.

  Merrick, in the darker hours of his discontentment, tried to convince himself not to care about his stone queen, but the words were always a lie. Just like Hugh, he could never relinquish the hope of his Juliana. The Unblessed King supposed that is why he sent his goblins away and why he allowed Hugh back into his castle, even as he had the power to bar the faery king from ever entering.

  “And a spell.” Though he had wings, Hugh did not clothe himself like the rest of the male faery. Perhaps because he was born human, he did not wear the shimmering cloth or the sparkling sheen of the others. Instead, he wore the clothes of the human male—a brown long tunic that fell to his knees, dagged hemlines, a high-standing collar and wide shoulders. However, unlike the human style, his boots were tall and made from hard material, better for protecting his feet. “Shall we argue again, Merrick, or will you spare us both the fight and lead me into the Black Garden to see her.”

  Merrick sat quietly for a long moment, knowing all along he’d lead Hugh to the garden, knowing he’d hope with every ounce of his magic while the faery tried to free her, knowing that in the end his heart would break in their failure. If he could avoid going, he would, but only he could cross to the garden in the center of the thorn labyrinth. Any other who tried would get lost and eventually die.

  “Well?”

  “What questionable creature did you get this spell from?” Finally, Merrick stood, not bothering to motion Hugh to follow as he walked to the door behind his throne. Hugh answered the taunting with his own.

  “Have you recovered Juliana’s knife from Lucien?” Hugh asked, as he always did. The jeweled weapon had been a gift to Juliana from her brothers. Lucien had kidnapped Hugh and the faery king had seen it in the Damned King’s possession.

  “I already told you, as I tell you each time, she probably left it on the table when she told stories to the goblins. One of them must have taken it and lost it. Lucien has not been in my home since Juliana stabbed him and I have no intention of going to the Fire Palace unless it is to free my brother Wolfe from the prisons.”

  The narrow hall was plain, except for the decorative arches overhead. No sound came from within as the two men walked toward a door. A small round window with the silhouetted head of a dragon was above it, marking the entrance to the Black Garden. From the pointed lancet windows in other parts of the palace, one could see the ominous landscape. The castle settled between the mountain range and the great forest.

  A window looked out over the path, showing the moonlight that always shone over the garden. The shadowed black stone led to a walled courtyard. Merrick didn’t pause, not needing to tell Hugh to stay close. The faery king already understood some of the dangers of the labyrinth that lay beyond the courtyard walls. They walked outside into the cool night, their way illuminated by the silver cast of moonlight. The castle loomed overhead as they walked away, the hooked spires twisting morbidly into the clear sky.

  A side yard extended from both sides of the black cobblestone, but it was only a glamour, hiding the deep pit beneath the grassy surface. The two men stayed on the path, not pausing as Merrick walked straight for the arched entryway to the garden. Once through, the path veered off in several directions. Merrick continued straight, hearing the crunching footfall of stones beneath their feet as neither of them spoke.

  The vine-covered walls of the garden soundlessly parted, covered in blood red flowers that nearly dripped in liquid splendor. Thorns, as sharp as blades, edged the vines, but as Merrick walked, they never touched him. Hugh stayed close as the path closed behind them. A few times he cursed, as the bladed thorns came too close to his wings. It wasn’t long before they were in the center section of the garden, a stone floor stretched out, enclosed by the vines. Benches and empty vases created nooks, but neither of them moved to sit. Their attention focused on Juliana, her body captured in stone.

  “She’s moved again,” Hugh said.

  “Aye.” Merrick agreed. Today his wife’s statue sat on the platform, her knees drawn up as her elbows braced on them. Her face lay in her cupped hands and her expression was one of complete boredom. “More often now everyday.”

  “I would almost prefer it if she did not move,” Hugh said “Then we could go back to looking for her kidnapper. I liked the idea of this statue being a clever ruse to put us off the scent of the hunt.”

  “I like knowing she’s here and safe,” Merrick disagreed. Though stone, at least here he could touch her—here and in his spell-cast dreams. Though unlike the dreams he gave himself of her, the stone figure was real. It just didn’t touch him back.

  “I worry that her movement means she’s settling into her stone prison. Or maybe she’s breaking free.” Hugh sighed heavily, staring down at her.

  Merrick didn’t take the man’s hope away, but Juliana wasn’t breaking free. If she were, his sense of her would become stronger. It stayed the same. “What potion have you brought today?”

  “Conjuring.” Hugh lifted his tunic and pulled a satchel from his waist. “It’s to call lost family.”

  “She’s not dead and the things brought forth from conjuring potions are usually best left where they are. The walking dead—”

  “We’ve tried everything else.” Hugh’s tone was tight.

  Merrick knew from experience what came next and he didn’t have the energy for it. “You asked to avoid the fight in the hall and now I ask you to return the consideration. I have no wish to hear your accusations of how th
is never would have happened had she been with you at Bellemare.” Merrick turned his attention to the statue. Juliana’s hair was frozen as if drifting in a breeze. Though he watched, sometimes for hours, he never saw her statue move, only came to see it in a different position in his garden.

  “Fine,” Hugh agreed. He opened a vial he carried and moved to pour the contents over his sister’s stone head. Bright green trailed between the grooves that carved her features, dripping like a tear over her cheek, down her neck, sliding between her breasts. Then, unrolling a small scroll, he began to whisper.

  Merrick drowned out the man’s words. They sounded practiced to the point that the diction of Hugh’s voice was overly pronounced. The faery king’s wings didn’t move and even seemed to droop in sadness.

  Merrick stepped back, staring at his wife. The backs of his knees hit a stone bench and he sat, close to the thorn-covered walls, surrounded by the crimson flowers that seemed to melt with blood. They were the only flowers that bloomed around him in the immortal realm. Everything else withered and died. He couldn’t help thinking that maybe it really was his fault Juliana was in stone. Perchance his presence did drain her as he did everything else. Mayhap it was their child that did it, his blood growing inside her. He had felt strength in the child.

  “It did not work,” Hugh said.

  Merrick blinked, not having realized the man was done.

  “I didn’t think it would, but I had to try,” Hugh said “William is coming to visit me at Feia. Actually, he was to be there before I came here, but this spell needed to be performed on this day to work so I came without him. My young brother could never keep track of time and always finds some reason for delay. I sent word for him reminding him to come, but…” He gave a humorless laugh. “He’s been researching possibilities in the scrolls given to him by his wizard master. With luck, I’ll be back soon to try again.”

  Merrick didn’t move. Though he hadn’t expected Hugh’s efforts to work, he still felt the acute disappointment rolling through him, even as he felt his power growing from Hugh’s frustration. Normally, he could ignore such a small infusion, but the man was standing too close.