Frost Kisses (Bitter Frost #4: Frost Series) (17 page)

BOOK: Frost Kisses (Bitter Frost #4: Frost Series)
3.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” I whispered.

I laid my hands upon his body, feeling my magic course through me, as powerful and dynamic as blood itself. I felt the force of Summer – hot and fertile, sticky like the beach in summertime, redolent of flowers in bloom – combine with the steely force of Winter, as cold and powerful as an arctic storm. Once more my hands began to glow orange and blue, and this glow began to spread – from my hands to my father's chest, from his chest spiraling outwards, all over his body, until he was surrounded by a stream of gold and red and blue and silver, colors that grew brighter and brighter, buzzing softly at first, and then louder and louder, until at last the magical glow seemed to explode in midair, with a sound so loud that it seemed to make the whole cavern rumble, and my father shot up with a start!

“How dare you?” He shouted. “Redleaf – what have you done?” He looked around wildly, his voice roaring with rage. He caught sight of me and stopped short, confused. “Breena, what are you doing here? What is this place?” He sprang to his feet. “Redleaf, where is she, the little traitorous...”

“Redleaf is dead,” I said quietly, and my father's expression darkened.

“I see,” he said. Even now, despite what Redleaf had done, I could see that my father still cared for her, and he did not try to hide the sadness in his eyes. “What has happened?”

“She tried to depose you,” I said. “She was assassinated by...” I decided to leave the Winter Court out of it for now. “Well, she was assassinated, and I was crowned Queen, only they think I'm dead, but I'm not – only...”

My father's jaw dropped open. “
What
?”

“I think I'd better start from the beginning,” I said.

I sat down on the pile of furs next to my father and told him of everything that had happened since Redleaf had taken the throne: how she had connived to start the war from the beginning, on the advice of her traitorous counselor Wort, how she had been assassinated by Shasta – who was only, I took care to point out, trying to save her beloved – how Kian had been blamed for the crime, how I had rescued him and, at last, come to terms of peace with the Winter Queen, and how – tragically – the peace treaty had been destroyed as a result of Wort's machinations.

“What a traitor!” My father scowled, looking as ferocious as a lion with his long hair flaming around his head. “I should have known that duplicitous little Wort was not to be trusted.” His expression softened. “But you, Breena!” He smiled broadly, putting his hand on my cheek. “How proud I am of you! You've been crowned but a few months, and yet you're twice the ruler I ever was.” He sighed. “I know I was imperfect – as a father and as a king. I let my feelings get in the way of governing: I let Redleaf rule in my stead, because I preferred womanizing and a life of leisure to the responsibilities of power.” He gave a bitter laugh. “You have the strength I never had, Breena,” he said. “Just like your mother.”

I couldn't help smiling.

“But now, I know,” my father continued. “It is a time of sacrifice, of war. And I too will join the fray. I will fight as King once more – not the weak, ineffectual king I was once, but a king whose daughter can be proud of him – a king who will have a lot of work to do if he wants to be as strong a ruler as his daughter.” He wrapped me in his arms. It was the first hug my father had ever properly given me, and as his warm arms encircled my shoulders I felt tears spring to my eyes. Right now, I was not a queen at all, nor a warrior. I was a girl, vulnerable and scared, whose father had finally come to tell her everything would be all right. The moment passed, of course, and my strength returned, but for one, glorious moment I felt safe, secure, protected. The responsibility was no longer mine alone to bear; the weight of the Summer Kingdom no longer rested on my shoulders alone. As I leaned my cheek on my father's shoulder, I let go a giant sigh of relief.

I was no longer alone.

“Well,” said my father. “How did you get in here? I know this part of the palace – these passageways are secret.”

I took my father by the hand and led him into the passageway where Logan and Kian were waiting. “Logan found the way,” I said.

“Well there,” said my father, looking over Kian and Logan. They were both strong, brave men, but even so they both looked more than a little afraid at the sight of my father giving them the once-over.

“So, the Winter Prince,” said my father. “Humph!” He extended a hand to Kian. “Youngman, you saved us in the woods – I remember that, and I am grateful for it. You have proven again and again your loyalty to my daughter and, if what she tells me is true, her love. Here you are, standing in the house of your enemy, risking all that you own for peace, and for the woman you love. I am an ancient fairy, Kian, and I can read what is in the hearts of young fairies like you, and I know that you are sincere. I know that you will go to the ends of the world for my daughter. I can trust you to be on her side.”

Kian nodded and took my father's hand, shaking it heartily. “Your Highness,” he whispered.

“And you!” My father turned now to Logan. “Wolf,” he said. “Although the Wolf Fey have not traditionally been the allies of Summer, you too have shown great loyalty to my daughter, and to the Summer Court. You have been a friend to her since before she entered Feyland, and your lifetime of memories, both here and in the Land Beyond the Crystal River, is sacred. I can trust you, too, to be with her.”

“Thank you,” it was Logan's turn to shake the king's hand. “Your Majesty, if you only knew how much...”

The king raised his hand and Logan was silent. “I do,” he said earnestly. “I once loved a woman so much that I was willing to cross worlds for her – heading back and forth for the love of a human woman, Breena's mother, Raine.”

Logan looked embarrassed. He knew my mother well; he'd often run into her covered in paint, in her overalls she used in the studio, with paint on her nose and her hair tied back with a ribbon. I imagined that he'd never thought about her as a fairy bride.

“I know what it is like to be willing to give up anything for love,” said my father. For a moment his face darkened, and he almost looked sad. Then he looked up again, his eyes blazing. “Time to give those Pixies a real war!”

With that the Summer King rushed down the hallway, brandishing his sword. Logan, Kian and I rushed after him, our weapons in hand.

We came across Wort in the Great Hall, still in his disguise as the Summer Knight Ladislaw. His mouth dropped open in astonishment as he caught sight of the great King Frank Foxflame returned from his slumber, with his sword flaming and orange.

“What the...”

“I know your secret, fiend!” my father roared. “Show yourself!”

The graceful fairy Ladislaw vanished, leaving in his place the toad-like Wort, whose face was a mask of terror. Two of the three attendants gasped in shock – one remained unmoved.

“That one's a pixie!” I whispered, and Logan instantly rushed to attack him.

Meanwhile, my father – in a single fell swoop, set upon the shocked Wort, and sliced through his neck, lopping off Wort's head.

“The Summer King has returned,” my father roared, his booming voice thundering through the walls of the palace, and echoing far into the recesses of the Summer lands. “And I want every pixie in this palace to leave now, or else each and every one of you will meet the same fate as this traitor here – and have your bodies fed to the dragons!”

Instantly the court seemed to come alive – Pixies were glamouring back into their normal forms, rushing towards the gate as far as their diminutive legs could carry them. Fairies were rushing towards us, one by one bowing and swearing their allegiance.

The Summer King was back.

 

Chapter 18

 

 

T
hat night I had a dream, a dream so vivid that it felt as if I were not asleep at all, but rather that my whole waking life had been a dream, and this was the true reality. I dreamed first of Delano, poring over a map of Feyland in his rocky and remote castle. He had been far from pleased to hear of his brother's death, for although he had never liked the sycophantic, conniving Wort, he nevertheless felt that any attack on Wort was a personal affront to the Pixies, and a blow to any hopes he might have of gaining a foothold in the Fey court. He was sitting in his antechamber, listening to the blubbering of a terrified pixie who had escaped from the Summer Court when Foxflame had returned.

“And you ran!” he roared, his face growing ugly with rage. “How dare you...”

“Please, the Summer King returned! His magic is great – we knew we were no match for him!”

Delano scowled. “If his magic is great,” he was saying, his voice dark, “we must find other sources of our own...sources that would have been dangerous were the situation not so dire...”

“You don't mean...the Dark Hordes!” The pixie was looking terrified.

Delano nodded. “The Wolves are with us now,” he said. “After Flynn failed to protect them, they have outright turned their back on both Fey camps, and care only for pixie alliance. But we'll need more than that now. The Minotaurs, the Giants…and we must summon all the sleeping hordes.”

“Are you sure that's safe, sir?” The pixie's eyes widened, “the Dark Hordes…unpredictable and uncontrollable…so dangerous and evil…” the pixie shuddered in fright.

“Of course I know the legend of the Dark Hordes,” snapped Delano. “That's exactly what I'm counting on.” Delano looked over his map and pointed to the Great Gorge where the Dark Hordes have been driven thousands of years ago. “It’s too late. The Awakening has already began.”

I dreamed too of the Winter Queen, ensconced in her palace, hearing word of the return of the Summer King. Kian had not come home from his latest expedition, and she feared him dead. Her other child, Shasta, had vanished too – and she was left alone, unprotected in the palace. A fierce warrior, she nevertheless feared for her children. Her son had gone mad after the death of the Summer Queen Breena – she feared, despite her son's protestations, that Kian's love for Queen Breena had caused his insanity, caused him to stab her in a fit of rage – and she knew that the Summer Court now bore him a great grudge. Shasta was responsible for Redleaf's death; Kian for Breena's. Her children were prime targets of the Summer Court's rage, and those soldiers would not rest until they had seen both her children slaughtered. Beneath that implacable expression, her heart was pained. She did not trust Flynn, but he was the highest-ranking Winter Court member in the palace, and so she gave him control of her armies, praying all the while that he would not let her down. This was the war to end all wars – she could feel it. She could feel the magic within her responding to this danger.

This would be the end of days.

***********

I woke up to hear a sharp knock.

“Come in,” I murmured, shaking my head out of sleep.

Kian marched in. “Breena!” He rushed to me, taking me in his arms. “I've just heard from one of my messengers – I'm afraid the situation is dire.”

“But my father kicked the Pixies out – he'll be able to convince your mother to sign another treaty now!”

“It's not so simple,” Kian said gravely. “Your father's awakening hasn't pleased everyone in Feyland. The Pixies have been reported to summon the Dark Hordes.”

I remembered my dream. “The Dark Hordes?”

“They're some of the strongest, most evil creatures in Feyland. Once, very long ago, the Pixies and Fey were forced to work together – that's how dangerous they were – in order to send the creatures into a magical slumber. Minotaurs, Giants, banshees, all sorts of creatures that once plagued Feyland. Delano has apparently woken them up!”

“What?”

“It's dangerous – for him as well as for us. These creatures are unpredictable. Delano can want only one thing: total destruction of Summer and Winter alike. Meanwhile, the wolves have sided with the Pixies...and,” he sighed. “My mother has reportedly allied with them.”

Other books

Juan Seguin by Robert E. Hollmann
Maybe This Time by Jennifer Crusie
Eye for an Eye by Frank Muir
At the Crossing Places by Kevin Crossley-Holland