The Snow Queen (63 page)

“I’m not
Sparks! And you’re not even Moon ...” He shook his head, she felt a tremor flow
through their bodies. “We’re ghosts, echoes, lost souls; caught in limbo,
damned in hell.” He let her face go.

“Sparks ...
I love you. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Wincing, murmuring the
breathless words like a charm to bring calm seas. “I know what you’ve done, but
I’m here. Because I know you. I know it was meant to be. I wouldn’t be here if
I didn’t believe we could make up for the time and the wrongs between us. If
you don’t believe it’s true, then send me away ... But first look at yourself,
look in the mirror! It’s only you there, only me beside you. We’re the waking,
not the nightmare.”

He rolled off
of her slowly, staring at her. “What—what happened to your cheek? Did I do that
to you?”

She lifted
a hand to the smudged yellow remains of the bruise, nodded.

He got up
from the bed, his face pale and expressionless, went toward his reflection
waiting impassively in the wall. Their hands met at the interface; he pressed
his forehead against its image, and Moon saw his body tighten like a coiled
spring.

“Sparks—”

His hands
turned into fists, and he smashed them into the mirror; sent his reflection
clamoring down in a hail of splintered ice. He backed away, turned ... she saw
blood trickling down his hand like zigzag lightning.

She pushed
herself up and went to him, closing his hand in hers, staunching the wound. j

“No,
don’t!” he cried. “Leave it, let it bleed!” eagerly, almost joyfully. She
looked up at him, sickened, but he shook his head. , “Don’t you see? I’m alive!
I’m alive, Moon ...” He made a sound : that was like laughter, but wasn’t. She saw
his eyes become the color of emeralds; and tears overflowed with the flicker of
the lids. He raised his wet hand to his wet face. “Moon. My Moon.” His arms went
around her again; but this time there was nothing hurting about his embrace
except the pain of rebirth and release. “Alive. Alive again ....”

She felt
sudden fire pass into her through her skin and kindle at his nearness. She
reached up to unfasten her cloak, let it fall, pressing herself even closer.
Her fingers found the slashes of his shirt; she felt his flesh, warm and
smooth, his muscles sliding under her touch. His own hands slipped down along
her sides, rose again, tracing the line of her back. He began to lead her to
the bed, moving with her, drawing her down beside him on the cool sheets, this
time with infinite tenderness. “No, let me ... just let me ...” He kissed her
softly. He slipped her dress down over her shoulders, along her body to the
floor, with hands that sang against her skin. He removed his own clothes,
self-consciously; she tried not to see the scars on his body.

They lay
back together, and now looking up she saw nothing but the moment reflected, and
her heart’s desire. They began to touch each other again; slowly, almost shyly,
rediscovering the secret joys that had been theirs in
Summer
,
Time began to spiral toward infinity, and her body became the source point of
the universe as he brought every part of his own body to the realization of her
pleasure. He took her to the brink of ecstasy with a skill that had never I
been his before, holding her there, circling in the air... with a motion
letting her fall in glorious flames, to rise again like a phoenix . again and
again. Swept out beyond the depths of her anticipation lost in time, she
answered him as best she could, murmuring the breathless love words that could
not tell him enough about her joy, filling her own instinctive response with
the passionate energy of her pent-up longing set free. And at last they fell
together, consumed in fire; lay as soft as ashes in each other’s arms. Complete
in their love, complete in each other, they slept.

“Moon ...
Moon, wake up.”

Moon
sighed, dreaming in the warm embers. “Not yet.” She kept her eyes closed,
half-afraid to open them.

“Yes. You
have to.” Spark’s voice stirred her gently, insistently. “We can’t stay here
much longer. The reception will be over soon. We’ve got to leave the palace
before Arienrhod comes looking for me.” Fear closed the words in. “But the
police are looking for me too.”

“I know.”
She nodded. “We’ll find a place where you can stay until after the Change.”

“The
Change!” He turned rigid under her hand. “Oh, my gods . oh, my Lady!” He sat
up, his fists clenched.

“What is
it?” Moon sat up beside him, abruptly awake, and afraid.

He faced
her, pale with anguish. “There won’t be any Change, if Arienrhod has her way.
She’s going to start a plague that’ll kill most of the Summers here in the
city.”

Moon shook
her head. “How? Why?”

“She’s
hired an off worlder to do it, a man called the Source. He does a lot of her
dirty work; he even had the old Commander of Police poisoned. I paid him today
with the water of life.” He bit his lips. “She wants to stay Queen, and keep
Winter here forever; that’s why!”

Moon shut
her eyes, concentrating on the enormity of horror so that she would not see his
hand in it. “We’ve got to stop it!”

“I know.”
He threw the covers back. “Go to the Blues, Moon, and tell them everything.
They can stop it, if it isn’t too late al ready.” He twisted the covers between
his hands. “Mother’s Eyes! How could

I—?”

Moon felt
panic clog her throat as she remembered why she could not go to them either. “
Sparks
, I’ve been off
world And they know that, too.”

He looked
up sharply. “They’ll deport you.”

She nodded,
pushing back her hair. “But they have to be told.”

“Then we’ll
both go. Maybe ... they’ll let us stay together.” He let his hand fall along
her back.

She felt
her skin turn to gooseflesh. “Yes.” She pushed herself up and off the bed,
knowing that if she hesitated she would never be able to separate herself from
him again. “We’d better go now.” She remembered abruptly that BZ would be
waiting; she closed her eyes again, blotting out their reflections.

They
dressed in silence and left the mirrored chamber; she glanced back one last time
through the closing door, as the mirror light winked out. They moved along the
empty corridor quickly and still silently, in their silence discovering that
the reception hall below had grown dim and silent, too. She watched
Sparks
’s face turn tense
and furtive. “Sparks—remember that we belong here!” She pulled her hood up,
half covering the rum of her disheveled hairdo, and made her movements regal.

He looked
at her. He nodded, but his expression was equally troubled. They went on down
the stairs, slipping unobtrusively past the reception hall where weary servants
circled, clearing away the remains of the banquet. They reached the Hall of the
Winds at last, shadowy and moaning as she remembered it, with the ghost ships
eternally adrift.

“How did
you cross the Pit?” He whispered it, and she could not help whispering her
answer.

“With
this.” She held up her wrist, letting him see the control box.

He started.
“Only Arienrhod—”

“
Herne
.
Herne
showed me how to use it.”

“
Herne
?” Disbelief. “How?”

She shook
her head. “I’ll tell you—everything, later.” The memory of the calling spell as
she crossed the bridge came back to her vividly. “Just help me cross back now
... don’t let me stop, whatever happens.” She took a deep breath.

“All right.”
Worry touched his dim face again, without any understanding of why she
was afraid.

They
started toward the lip of the Pit, toward the bridge. Moon felt the Sea
breathe, cold and damp against her flushed face; raised her hand to press the
first tone of the calming sequence. But Sparks turned back, for one last look
into the dark past. She reached out, her doubt quickening as he turned.

And then
the rattling air filled with light, the hall was transformed. They shrank
together, blinking, uncomprehending; shielded their eyes.

They were
not alone. “Arienrhod!” Sparks gasped. Moon saw a woman standing where they had
stood at the entrance to the hall, around her a gathering of richly dressed
nobles—and palace guards. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw more figures
waiting across the bridge.

The Queen
.
The woman Sparks had named Arienrhod came
toward them slowly; slowly coming into focus. Moon saw the hair, milk white
like her own, twisted into an elaborate sculpture and crowned with a diadem ...
saw Arienrhod’s face—her own face, as though she were moving into her own
reflection. “It’s true ...”

Sparks
didn’t answer, not looking ahead but only from side to side, searching for an
escape.

Arienrhod
stopped in front of them, and Moon lost track of everything but the fascination
that locked the moss-agate eyes of the Queen with her own. But there was none
of her own amazement in the Queen’s gaze. She almost thought that Arienrhod had
been waiting for this moment forever. “So you’ve come at last, Moon. I should
have known you would survive. I should have known you wouldn’t let anything
keep you from your goal.” She smiled, and there was pride in it, but curiously
wrapped with envy.

Moon met
the gaze steadily, expressionless, not understanding its implications. But at a
deeper level she felt their vibration like a sonic field, disorienting her.
She expected me ... how could she know that
I had to come?
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve come for Sparks.” She made it a
challenge, knowing instinctively that it was something this woman would
appreciate.

The Queen
laughed, a high sharp sound like wind rattling ice coated leaves; but with
disconcerting echoes of her own laughter. “You’ve come to take my Starbuck away
from me?”
Sparks
glanced up at her, and past her at the waiting nobles, as she let his secret out;
but they were too far away to hear what was said over the sighing of the Pit.
“Well, you’re the only one who can.” Again Moon heard the ache of secret envy.
“But you wouldn’t keep him long. You saw him hesitate. You don’t really believe
that he could be content in
Summer
after he’s belonged
to Carbuncle, do you? You don’t really believe he’ll be satisfied with you when
he’s belonged to me?” almost sadly. “No, child of my mind ... you’re still only
a child. An incomplete woman; a pitifully inadequate lover.”

“Arienrhod!”
Sparks cried out, his voice raw with anguish. “No—”

“Yes, my
love. I was moved. You were very tender with her.” She smiled. Moon felt her
face flush, felt outrage and humiliation throb like poison in her blood. “You
see, I do know everything that happens in my city.” The words glinted. “I’m
disappointed in you, Star buck. Although I can’t say that I’m surprised. But
I’m willing to forgive you.” She reached out to him with the words, softly,
without sarcasm. “You’ll realize this was a mistake when you’ve had time to
think it over.” She raised a hand, and the guards came toward them, semi
circled them at the Pit’s edge. “Escort Starbuck to his chambers . and see that
he stays there.”

Sparks
stiffened. “It’s finished, Arienrhod! You know that. I’m free, no matter what
you do to keep me here. I’ll never change back. You’ll never touch me again—”
He took a long, unsteady breath. “Unless you let Moon go. Let her go away now,
and I’ll do anything you want.”

Moon opened
her mouth, starting forward; but he froze her with a look. She followed his
urgent glance across the bridge—to warn them ...

“After
we’ve talked together, alone. If she still wants to go then, I promise you I
won’t stop her.” Arienrhod held out her hands to them, empty of deceit.

“Whatever
she says, don’t listen to it. Promise me, promise me you won’t believe what
she’ll tell you.” Guards closed in on Sparks. Moon felt her own hands try to
reach him. But Arienrhod stood watching, as she had watched ... Sparks reached
out, but the same unspoken knowledge stopped him, and his hands dropped to his
sides. The guards took him away.

Moon stood
alone between the Queen and the abyss. The wind lapped her, her shivering loss
intensified; she kept it hidden under her cloak. “I have nothing to say to
you.” The words fell from her mouth like stones. She turned her back on the
Queen, took a step toward the bridge’s beginning.
Don’t think, don’t think about it. You have no choice.

“Moon ...
my child. Wait!” The Queen’s voice caught her like a fishhook. “Yes, I saw you,
but you no more need to feel ashamed of that than you would of seeing your own
reflection.”

Moon turned
furiously. “We aren’t the same!”

“We are.
And how often does a woman have the chance to watch herself make love ... ?”
Arienrhod held out her hands again, with a kind of longing. “Didn’t he tell
you, Moon? Couldn’t he?” Moon stared, uncomprehending, saw Arienrhod begin to
smile. “Well, it’s better this way; if I explain to you myself ... You’re mine,
Moon. You’re of me. I’ve known about you since the day of your conception,
watched over you all your life. I wanted to bring you here to me years ago;
that’s why I sent you that message about Sparks. Then you disappeared, and I
thought I’d lost you forever. But you’ve come at last.”