Winter Reign: Rise of the Winter Queen Read online

  Eduard looks completely shocked and his mouth remains hanging slightly open. I begin to pity him, too, placed in this saddest and most uncomfortable of positions. He seems genuinely unprepared, as if he had no idea she loved him. He probably didn’t. But then he does the worse thing he could possibly do at this moment. He looks at me. He looks at me and simply stares, confused, pleading, not wanting to hurt me or embarrass Delara. He’s looking to me for guidance. But Delara is looking at me, too, and her shrewd eyes miss nothing. She sees the way he looks at me, waits for me; she sees the way I’m oriented toward him, leaning in to him; she is close enough that she notices his hand on my leg. And as her eyes look up and find my face I can already feel the change. She knows what’s between me and Eduard, can see it written all over us. I have lost her.

  “You,” she says, looking at me with sudden rage. “You’ve been with him. You’ve loved him. And you,” she says, turning to Eduard. “You’ve loved her. All this time, you two have been at this behind my back. I should’ve known and I did know, in a way. I have been watching you two for weeks now. I’ve been so jealous it nearly ripped me to pieces, but I assuaged myself by saying you were merely becoming great friends. For how could a sorcerer love a servant. But I see now. All that time spent together, all those whispers and long walks and unending closeness. I should’ve trusted my instincts. Even my magic was warning me. You, sweet girl, betrayed me. You may not own it, but I know you’ve seen my affection for this man growing over the last two months and yet you said nothing. You reveled in your own happiness and laughed at the fool you were making of me. You knew I loved him.”

  I cannot even look at her. She is right. Even before she told me this morning, I knew she loved Eduard and I said nothing. She is my greatest friend, of course I read the signs, but, to my everlasting shame, I only cared that I had him. I am about to try to speak when a great explosion rocks the room. A haze of cerulean smoke rolls out from the center of the Open Chamber and when it clears, nine slender golden-haired women stand in the center of the room. The royal sorceresses.

  “Come forth and face us, Grandestor,” says the one in front. “It is for you we have been trained.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” demands Lord Jacob, striding forth to the royal sorceresses.

  “Enough, meager man!”

  With a snap of her fingers she sends Lord Jacob crashing through the stone wall into the next room. As Lady Katrina rushes toward her husband, the woman snaps her fingers again and a great red cage entraps Lady Katrina. Inside the cage, lighting strikes here and there, and any one step would be the end of Delara’s mother. By now the Open Chamber is in a full panic, but the sorceresses have sealed the doors and none can escape. I realize I am trembling behind Eduard. He has stood and pushed both Delara and myself behind him. He takes several steps forward.

  “I begin to see,” he says. “I know you now. I know what it is inside of you. It is an ancient evil I have not seen in centuries.”

  “I am Craetyne,” says the leader, cackling as she does so. “But I and my sisters are willing vessels for something much greater, more powerful, and more beautiful than anything extant in this fallen world. Name her, Grandestor. Name my empress, little wizard, if you dare.”

  “She is pure malevolence, utter and total evil. She is a disgusting perversion of the rights of magic and strength. A demon. I’ll not name such a dark and ugly thing within these walls.”

  “Then I will name her for you. My empress is…”

  In the space of a breath, Eduard has levitated the table and sent it careening at Craetyne. It strikes her and sends her tumbling. Two of her sisters step forward and begin casting spells at Eduard: the spells look like black stars soaring across the room. But Eduard’s magic is full of color. And power. One of the sisters is struck by his spell and dies in a dazzling bloom of pink flames. The other becomes enraged.

  “Did you not think we would notice your surveillance?” she demands, shooting another black star. “Did you not think that as you watched us, we were watching you? Coward! Unbeliever!”

  Her anger frightens me and rather than trust to Eduard’s skill, great as it is, I clench my fists and chant in a whisper. The room fills with pure white light. The sister raises her hands to cover her eyes, leaving herself open to the red dart of magic that Eduard sends to impale her. She falls. And I turn to see Delara and I know, as this final betrayal falls into place, she hates me.

  “That is impossible,” she says. “How can you have magic?”

  “Now is not the time for questions, Delara, my friend. Now we must fight. Use your magic, use all the knowledge Eduard has taught you to help…”

  Before I can finish a black star collides with Delara and she collapses in a fit of convulsions, black smoke escaping around her eyes.

  “Delara! NO!”

  I turn, enraged, to face the remaining six sisters. They are angry, but I am a fountain of fury that cannot be stopped and I have never felt, or wanted to be, more dangerous. Eduard turns to me.

  “Let us end this.”

  All the trapped guests have pressed against the wall. Eduard and I walk forward, casting spells as we go. He destroys one sister by conjuring a great weight above her head, while I dispatch two with a golden haze of poison. Another sister, seeing the tide turning, attempts to flee. One of the other sisters, seeing her cowardice, snaps her fingers and the fleeing sister explodes. Two are left. Black stars and burning colors are traded mercilessly. I move the air and form it into a spike, running one of the sisters through from behind. Eduard raises his hand and garrotes the last sister from across the room. Sighs of relief are heard throughout the chamber as the guests see the last of the danger disappear. I am about to race back to Delara, whose body is still now, when a most hideous laugh stops me. It is Craetyne. She is yet alive.

  “Grandestor. You can break my body, but it is of no consequence. They are coming.”

  “Who is coming?” he asks. “Answer me, fiend, or I will slow your death and increase your pain tenfold!”

  “You’ll never defeat her. She is inevitable. My empress. My mother.”

  “You lie! It is impossible! What man could even survive her touch?”

  “Fool! I am born of no man. It was my mother’s own power that wrought me.” She coughs up blood. “And you, servant girl, too ignorant to even know your power, your purpose. Winter Queen. You are a false idol.”

  “Tell me who comes to Moerdra Castle. I’ll not ask again.”

  Craetyne gives one last ghoulish laugh, her eyes rolling, her mouth wide, and falls back to the floor. She looks up and says, with her dying breath:

  “The Helkar.”

  As she dies, I turn to Eduard and he is reeling from the shock of that dying woman’s word. I’ve no knowledge of it, but it matters not, for I am running back to Delara. Lady Katrina is already there. The cage must have gone away when the sister who cast it died. She is holding her daughter in her arms. Delara is not moving, but the smoke has ceased pouring from her eyes. Ciraa runs up just as I do. I grab her.

  “Ciraa, you must bring us wine and Father’s fruit. And see to Lord Jacob as well.”

  Ciraa and nods, kisses my cheek and hurries off. I drop to my knees beside Lady Katrina. Delara’s lips and eyelids are black, and she is barely breathing. I try to remember some of the healing spells Eduard taught me. I raise my hand over Delara’s mouth, but before I can utter a word her eyes open. They’re black as night, except her irises. Her irises are yellow then blue then red then green. They are changing colors. They are like Eduard’s. She begins gasping for air, coughing out black smoke, and throwing her head from side to side. But a strange thing happens: the black in her face begins to clear. She stops coughing smoke. And now her appearance is normal. But she still can’t breathe. I raise my hand over her mouth again and chant softly. Her breathing calms and she stops throwing her head. Peace finds her.

  “I do not know how it is possible you have magic,” Lady Katrina says, gr
aceful and composed despite the tears in her eyes. “But I owe you more than I could ever repay you. Thank you.”

  I nod, too tired and confused to speak. I stop Chelle as she’s rushing by and tell her to fetch the Fingers to examine Delara.

  “I’m afraid there’s no time,” Eduard says. “We must prepare.”

  “Prepare for what?” I ask.

  “My lady,” he says, turning to Lady Katrina, “You must evacuate Moerdra Castle.”

  “What? Why? We can’t leave, someone must see to my daughter and my husband.”

  “We will have the Fingers see to Lord Jacob when they arrive. And I give you my word, if you leave your daughter with me I will do as much for her as the Fingers would.”

  “Grandestor, your power is great and I have just seen its wonders in action, but I will not leave my child when I do not even know what evil ails her.”

  “Lady Katrina, I beg of you. Trust me this night. I know it is a great faith I demand of you, but I shall not let more harm befall the girl in your arms. Upon my honor and my life.”

  “I will be with her as well, my lady,” I say.

  For a moment, Lady Katrina merely looks at us and I’m sure she will say no. But she looks down at Delara again, kisses the girl several times on her cheek and forehead, and hands her over to me.

  “Protect my girl,” she says to me. She stands and faces Eduard. “What must I do, sir?”

  “When the Fingers arrive have them take your husband. You must get everyone out of Moerdra Castle and into the Warming Caves to the west, where they will be safe. I dare say you won’t have enough time to make it, but the important matter is that you not be here when trouble comes.”

  “What is coming, Grandestor?”

  “Worry not of that, my lady. What comes to Moerdra Castle comes for me. When your husband wakes, give him this.”

  Eduard hands her a small stone. It is glowing blue.

  “I found it in Craetyne’s robes. It was taken from the heart of the Doomed Mountains and its being here can only mean one thing: the mountains have been destroyed. When your husband wakes he must order the knights of Moerdra Castle to march to that land and go to the aid of the Thraenns, if there be any man or woman left of them.”

  With that he sends Lady Katrina away and she looks so frightened I’m afraid she may collapse before her task is complete. Eduard kneels beside me. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me so deeply and so lovingly that even in the midst of all this sudden danger my mind drifts to moments spent with him, safe, alone, and entranced. I know others are watching, but I do not dare to pull away.

  “I suppose there’s no use trying to hide anymore,” I say. “A thousand guests and the House of Eaynfall just saw me using magic. I doubt they’ll bat an eye if I kiss a great sorcerer.”

  “True. Your old life is over now, Nevena of Throdan. There is a very old edict in the Hundred Kingdoms that forbids persons possessed of magic from servitude. As of this night you are free. But come, we must bring Delara to a safer place.”

  We stand and I raise my hand over Delara to make her body float beside us as we walk. Little Thea comes over to see her sister, her perfect eyes crying as I’ve never seen before. With a kiss and a promise to heal her sister, I send her back and Eduard and I continue.

  “Eduard, if what you say is true about the Doomed Mountains, what does that mean for the fate of the Thraenns? All the stories say they are a peaceful, earth-loving people. They will not be able to protect themselves.”

  “I fear they are all dead. Anyone powerful enough to destroy those mountains and wield one of the stones of the Almighty is far too powerful to be stopped by a Thraenn.”

  “Stones of the Almighty,” I say, remembering stories from my childhood. “But those are said to have been hidden by the Almighty himself. They’re supposed to be pure legend!”

  “If only. They’re quite real, Nevena, and immensely powerful. I cannot fathom why Craetyne didn’t use it in the fight. I don’t know if I could have stopped her if she had. She must have only been carrying it as a threat. That bodes well for us. It means they’ve not yet discovered how to use the stones.”

  “But if the stones are real and the Almighty created the mountains to hide them, how can I have been found during the War of Four Heavens? I’ve only passed twenty-five winters.”

  “Who said were found during the War of Four Heavens?” he asks, stopping.

  “Ciraa.”

  “Nevena, what have they taught you of history here?

  “Virtually nothing. And the war is something forbidden to talk about, let alone teach.”

  “I do not know why she told you this, but the War of Four Heavens took place in the last age of the world. The stones of the Almighty were the stones on which he stood while he unleashed his power in the War of Four Heavens. It was a great war that spanned a century, destroying many millions of lives and nearly the earth itself. It began as a dispute among the Almighty and three of his most powerful warriors. When they could not reconcile themselves to his rule, the warriors departed and broke the sky, creating three new heavens in addition to the original one made by the Almighty. Each heaven accepted souls based on different characteristics: the Almighty’s valued true goodness, another valued great wealth, another took only the strongest and bravest. The final heaven belonged to the Empress, Craetyne’s mother and the weakest of the departed warriors. But she was cunning, and her heaven accepted only the darkest, most grotesque souls, those whom she knew would serve her darkest desires. The Almighty would not stand for the corruption of the world and he declared war. Every living man and woman went to battle for one of the heavens. The Almighty won, annihilated two of the warriors, and would have done the same to the Empress, but like a coward she fled.”

  “Then it’s simple, we’ll call upon the Almighty to fight her.”

  “It’s not simple at all. He has vanished. No one has heard of him since the end of the war, so many thousands of years ago.”

  As we walk we hear the guests racing out through the halls, desperate to escape a dread they cannot even name. We pass a rushing phalanx of knights on their way to the Open Chamber and the House of Eaynfall. They are heavily muscled men protected in gold armor, bearing the Eight-Throated Lion of the house. Everywhere around us people are frightened and hurry about. Even the servants have abandoned their duty and are beginning to flee. It is complete chaos.

  Eduard and I arrive at his room and I move Delara to the bed. I can’t help feeling ashamed, as it is the very same bed in which I have made love to Eduard. She looks peaceful. Eduard is closing the door when a hand stops it. He opens it up again and it is Ciraa and Sister. They rush in. Sister has a terrible cut on her head and the left side of her face is covered in blood.

  “Sister!” I say, rushing to her. “What happened? Has the castle been attacked?”

  “No, my girl, I was on the other side of the wall when Lord Jacob came crashing through. The Fingers are tending him now. Don’t worry about me. These old bones are of sterner stuff than you think.”

  “Lady Katrina has ordered everyone to leave the castle,” says Ciraa, embracing me. “They’re heading for the Warming Caves. But we wanted to stay with you.”

  “You can’t stay here,” I say. “Moerdra Castle is soon to be under attack.”

  “Attack from what?”

  “From…”

  But I cannot answer the question. I can only remember Craetyne’s laughing portent. “The Helkar.” I turn to Eduard.

  “The Helkar are coming,” he says. “I do not know how to explain them, other than to say they are a danger most terrible, second only to the Empress herself. They have great magic and can change forms.”

  “Aye, just what I’ve been waiting for. Evil, shapeshifting, spell casters. All the same, if you won’t have us then it’s time I told you the truth.”

  Ciraa takes my hand and moves close. Only rarely has she looked at me this gravely.

  “I should’ve told you ye
ars ago, Nevena. And I’m sorry for that. But you’re not alone.”

  “I know that, Ciraa. I know you’re…”

  “No, Nevena, I mean you’re not the last of your people. I come from the same realm. The Winterlands. It doesn’t exist anymore, but you have the power to bring it back. It is one of The Razed Twenty, but you can restore it. You are the rightful heir.”

  “But I don’t understand,” I say. “How can that be?”

  “I’ll explain it later, I promise. I’m only telling you this much now because you need to know how important you are and how important it is that you survive. You are the Winter Queen. Eduard, would you do a revealing spell?”

  Eduard walks to us and waves his hand over Ciraa. Instantly, she changes. Her tan skin pales until she is the same shade as me; her black hair runs white. And suddenly she has taken on a new presence.

  “Go, Nevena,” she says. “Win this fight and let us go home to our people. They wait for us. I will go now and aid Lady Katrina, but after this I will never leave you. After all, we’re cousins. Family should be together.”

  She kisses my cheek and smiles at me. I am shocked beyond my ability. The door opens and Marciason enters.

  “I’m here for the lady,” she says.

  Eduard directs her to the bed. I turn back for Ciraa, but she is tugging Sister through the door.

  “Nevena, come,” Eduard says, taking my arm and moving me out of the other door.

  I look back to Delara, lying unconscious and helpless.

  “I’ll shall not leave her side, my Queen,” says Marciason.

  Eduard and I are walking quickly through the halls. Then we’re hurrying. And then we’re racing as hard as we can. Eduard is saying something about the Helkar, but I can’t focus on his words. Too much weight has fallen on me tonight. The sorceresses. The battle. The Empress. The Almighty. The War of Four Heavens. The waste of the mountains. The Winter Queen. Delara’s pain and then attack. The Winterlands. Family. I stop running. I’m spinning, leering, suffocating. The sheer vastness of the fear and panic of my heart is destroying me, ripping me like parchment in the hands of a child. I fall to my knees. And then Eduard is there before me, shouting things at me, but I cannot hear him. I can barely see or feel or think. This is too much. Too fast. Too painful. And then Eduard puts his hand in front of my eyes and a light appears there. A great and beautiful light. And the great scene washes over me.