Chapter 9
VALANCE
Listening to my body, I eventually slept dreamlessly inside the carriage.
I awoke curled up on one of the cushioned benches when the snow horses stopped, the rocking motion no longer a soothing vibration.
Queen Orla was the first face I saw.
“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing her head in greeting.
King Eoghan did the same as I sat up.
Brigid sat silently between them, offering me a warm yet terrifying grin.
“Is it still morning?” I asked. Thick, dark purple curtains were drawn across the carriage windows. Only a hint of sunlight glowed around the edges.
“Early afternoon,” Orla answered. “Did you sleep well?”
I yawned, stretching my arms above my head. “To a fashion. I needed the rest.”
The two former monarchs nodded in agreement.
“Anything to report?” I asked.
“No,” Orla answered. “It has been a journey lacking in rebels and jinn.”
“Thank Danu for that.”
Did I still thank the blessed goddess for anything? Did she have her hand in this journey of mine?
I brushed the question aside, opening the curtains. Bright sunlight kissed my face, straining my eyes for a few moments.
“Incredible,” Orla said. “Every time I see sunlight, I can never quite believe it.”
“Indeed,” I answered.
The landscape had changed. We no longer wove through forests but open, snowy planes dotted with tall mountains on the horizon. Smoke curled into the sky from some of those distant monoliths.
“We are approaching giant territory, My King,” Eoghan said. “First, we come to the bridge over Winter Fire where a troll will await payment for crossing.”
I sat forward, my elbows on my thighs, chin resting on clasped hands. “A toll from a troll?”
“Winter is a land of tolls and trolls, especially when it comes to bridges. Often there are dark fae living under them or waiting on one side. The bridge into giant country has always been guarded by a troll.” He frowned. “Attempts to cross are usually met in bloody ends.”
“And not for the troll,” Orla contributed.
I leaned back, considering this. “That ends today. At least when we arrive.”
They both nodded.
I looked to Brigid. “What do you say?”
“I say play this carefully, Your Majesty,” she offered.
“My first instinct is to kill this troll if it dares to ask a toll of me,” I said. “Yet I know that will not endear me to the giants.”
I could make them all my slaves if I wanted. Force them to fight by enchantment. But that thought sat heavy, a repugnant idea. I wanted their loyalty because I’d earned it, not forced it out of them. And my ego needed to be fed with their love—my royal ego.
However, the dark fae had to understand I did not suffer any denial of my power.
Is that not a sign of the power corrupting you already? Your word or no word at all?
Wonderful. I always enjoyed contradicting ideas in my head.
I knew I was one step away from enslaving Winter, or burning it along with the rest of Faerie. How awful would ruling a world of charred earth and smoke-choked skies be? Did I need living bodies around me? Should I keep Faerie for myself, wander alone and forever mourn the loss of everything?
What a terrible idea.
Is it?
It took two more hours until the landscape began to shift. The mountains snaked closer, working their way from the horizon to cut off the snow planes ahead of us. Before long, they towered above us, monstrous and snow-covered, warning travelers to go no further.
But the most fascinating change was the addition of a river flowing alongside the mountains.
I first spotted it a mile back, only for it to disappear.
Now it showed itself once again within a small valley acting as a moat to the mountains.
Pearlescent water, steam curling from its surface, radiating incredible heat.
The base of the mountain and the edges of the valley were free of snow because of it.
“Winter Fire?” I asked.
“Yes,” Orla answered. “The warmest thing in these lands. A river of milky fire.”
“It is liquid pearl.”
“Yes.”
We reached a gray stone bridge, a simple crossing with no sides to the structure.
“This is it,” Eoghan said. “The crossing.”
Standing on this side of the bridge, watching our every move, was a terrifying figure.
Huge, well over seven-feet tall, pale green skin stretched over his frame, black fur covering his crotch, his feet, and shoulders.
The troll held up an enormous gray axe. Pale blond hair flickered in the wind, icy blue eyes locked on me.
“Halt!” he bellowed as we got too close, his booming voice echoing high in the mountains.
I stopped, my companions flanking me. “Hello, there.”
The troll stared.
“Hello?” I tried again. “May we speak?”
“You is the new king?” the troll said.
“I am. Please stand aside and allow me to cross.”
“I gots orders, Majesty. Lord Cullen says none can cross unless they pays in bones.”
“Bones?”
The troll sniffed, wiping his bulbous nose on the back of his wart-covered hand. “Giants, they loves some bones. It’s the marrow, Majesty. Tastiest thing to them.”
“And what about trolls?” I asked.
“We likes the bloody meat of hares, Majesty?” He patted his swollen belly. “Delicious.”
“I see. What is your name?”
“I’m Declan.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Declan.”
“Same, Majesty. Same.”
“We have a problem.”
He stared at me.
“I’m not sure I want to pay the toll,” I continued. “Especially a bone price.”
“That’s the rules, Majesty. Lord Cullen likes his rules.”
“Does he?”
Declan nodded slowly.
“Interesting. So do I.”
The troll cocked a bushy eyebrow. “You has to pay, King. No one gets away with it. You don’t, you goes into Winter Fire.” He jutted a thumb at the water.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“I have no bones to pay.”
He looked between us. “I see lots of bones here.” His gaze lingered on Brigid. “How you living?”
“Because I allow her to live,” I said.
Eyes back to me. “You—”
I held up a hand, and he shut his mouth. “I have a question for you, Declan.”
He nodded.
“Did life return to these parts? Was there anyone or anything dead that came back to you or Lord Cullen that is precious?”
His left foot kicked at the ground. “Winter Roses. They came back to us. No bloom for centuries. Always waited.” A sniff.
“They grow on the mountains, on the other side.” He pointed behind him.
“Petals make Rose Creams, a treat for all of us. Can’t get them anywhere but here.
But that was a long time ago when the old queen lived. ”
Orla bristled beside me.
“Lord Cullen is so happy to see them,” he added. “Says it’s like we living in the glory days of his grandpa.”
“I see,” I said. “A treat from ages past has returned. I would like to try one of these Rose Creams.”
“Pay the toll.”
I offered the troll my sweetest of smiles. “Ah, but you are missing the point. Because of me, your Winter Roses grow again. I poured life back into these lands, an energy far greater than any Tuatha monarch has done before.”
Declan’s expression was blank.
“This is a new age. A new beginning for all of us. I must speak with your lord, not waste time with these silly rules.”
“But rules are rules.”
“Indeed they are. And I can take away the life that flows into your lord’s precious roses.”
“But—”
“No, no. I’m done here. If you want to stick with this rule, you are welcome to.”
“He will hurt me if I don’t, Majesty.”
“Then I will wait.”
I closed my eyes, becoming one with the life-giving side of my magic. It ran through the earth beneath my feet, swirled in the air, as far as the clouds, in that steam coming off the river.
Through the mountains to the other side. Ah, yes. Roses growing in the snow as high as halfway up the mountains. Returned after so long.
“Goodbye for now,” I whispered.
I felt them wither and die. Every single one.
Moments later, a roar boomed from within the mountains like thunder. I opened my eyes to meet it, watching a flock of startled birds fly across the pale violet sky.
“I think I got his attention,” I said.
The troll swallowed heavily, glancing behind him. “What happened?”
“You will see, Declan. You will see.”