CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Aspen tended to my wounds on my back and arm again while we discussed what had happened that night. I explained to her the awful encounter I’d had with the rebel in the dungeons, what he’d said, and how Preston had slain him.
“Did you send that assassin?” I asked as I stretched out on my stomach on my bed, allowing her to work on the Stormclaw mark on my back.
Hovering behind me in her high fae size, Aspen scoffed. “Not at all. It was a foolhardy move, doomed to fail. But it’s a powerful reminder that more citizens grow weary of the siblings’ reign. There are reports that Ashwood’s army is pressing toward the capital, even now, yet you’ve seen how they don’t let the messengers speak before their court. They distract with extravagant parties. And we have men and women dying for Preston and Nerissa’s greedy aspirations all while we’re in danger from escaping demons at home. It’s costly enough to build caged wagons to transport demons to the fortress and to hire guards who are willing to risk monitoring the fortress dungeons. It’s also expensive to wage war. Yet instead of being frugal, Preston and Nerissa continue to host feasts.”
I swallowed. “And the death magic...”
“It is terrible,” Aspen agreed.
“Yet they fear my power.”
“Firstly, you’re the only one who can send the demons back and seal the underworld’s entrance. You are the hero to our people that they can never be, and it’s unsurprising they’d envy that. And your winter magic is strong. Unleashing an avalanche? Crafting a sword of ice in seconds to stab your enemy? Your abilities will only grow as winter begins in earnest and you have more time to practice your magic.”
“Which they are ensuring I don’t have,” I said bitterly.
“I think your theory about gaining immunity to the forget-me-nots is possible though.” The pixie finished applying a fresh bandage to my back and buttoned up the tunic I’d donned before she arrived. “After all, the flower only affects fae, by making us forget how to even wield our magic. Sometimes, that we even possess any. But you are part human. I imagine there’s a part of you that’s unaffected. That part of you can help you remember.”
I nodded slowly. “I think I have some memories I can cling to that will help me.”
Aspen squeezed my arm. “As often as I’m permitted to visit, I will. I have so much more to share with you, but first...you need rest.” She shot me a look. “I’m going to contrive a way for you to leave the castle and meet with some of our rebels. Or, better yet, I’ll find a way to let you visit some of the wounded returning from our battles with Ashwood and let rebels and non-converts witness your compassion. It’ll instill further belief in those on our side and gather more to our numbers. Gods know King Preston and Queen Nerissa haven’t deigned to visit their suffering soldiers or any of the bereaved family after sending their own to fight for them.” She scowled.
With that, Aspen had left me with a leather satchel of dried forget-me-nots she’d pilfered from the castle’s storage room within the armory, where the king and queen horded many of the flowers to use against their enemies.
But I couldn’t use them here, in these enchanted rooms. Glancing out the window, I surveyed the blood-red sky. There wasn’t much daylight left, but perhaps it would be enough before there came a risk of demons escaping the underworld and stalking the halls.
When I poked my head out the door, I studied the guards posted outside my rooms. I decided to feign boldness, like I was confident in what I was doing and where I was going, and I stepped outside. No one stopped me.
Realizing I wasn’t trapped in my chambers—only the castle, it seemed—I crept down the hall and toward the staircase. Garrick stood from a bench against one wall, where he’d been reclining in the shadows, sharpening one of his knives. He was fully armed, even with a sword strapped to his back, which reminded me that Silverfrost wasn’t safe at night with the underworld creatures that were regularly escaping.
“What are you doing?” Garrick’s gold eyes studied me almost warily.
My heart slammed painfully against my ribcage. Maybe he’d been ordered to stop me if I left my rooms. Maybe his blood oath would compel him to work against me, whether he wanted to or not. His expression was his own, but just because the siblings weren’t controlling him now didn’t mean he wasn’t bound to their long-term orders.
I stepped forward cautiously, the satchel swinging from the belt I’d fastened around my waist. “I want to practice,” I whispered, conscious of the guards posted not far away.
Garrick raised an eyebrow in question, as if silently asking: When the king and queen have suppressed your magic?
“I have to try.”
“All right.” Garrick frowned thoughtfully. “I know a place we can go, but we can’t linger long.” He cast a glance over his shoulder out the nearest window.
I nodded in understanding. Without another word, Garrick proceeded toward a different set of steps, waving for me to follow him.
At the top of a winding, narrow staircase, Garrick shoved open a door and we stepped out into the chilly evening. I gazed about in wonder. We were at the pinnacle of the castle’s tallest tower, surrounded by a stunning view of snowy mountaintops bathed in red and gold as the sun sank in the west. “Beautiful,” I murmured.
Icy air plucked at my loose hair and made gooseflesh rise on my bare arms.
Garrick’s arms snaked around me, enveloped in the warmth of his furs. Though his hands never touched my bare skin, it still felt intimate to be in his embrace. I swallowed my gasp of surprise and delight. The warmth of his coat dashed away the cold, and his earthy scent surrounded me.
For a moment, he didn’t move. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. So close, yet so far. I ached to turn and wind my arms around him. To taste his lips on mine.
Would he welcome the advance, if we could risk it?
Too soon, he pulled away. My hazy thoughts cleared, and with it, the reminder that now wasn’t the time to profess feelings. I had limited time to learn to wield my magic. The daylight would vanish far too soon.
As if sensing my nerves, Garrick murmured, “Remember, you are powerful, Starlight. You were made for this. The land knows you. Its magic is yours.”
Steeling myself, I plucked a few forget-me-nots from within my satchel, holding them in my palm despite the pain and despair that flooded me as my magic seemingly snuffed out. Closing my eyes, I tried to picture pinpricks of light in a dark sky, the silver glow bathing Garrick’s face when he’d studied the constellations with me. I thought about the way magic flooded my veins with power, igniting a strength in me I’d never known I’d possessed before.
Human. I squeezed the petals in my hand, not tightly enough to damage the brittle flowers but enough to embrace the pain they brought. I pictured my power unleashing, snow howling through the air and tiny shards of ice stinging my cheeks. The roar of an avalanche. The cold of a sword made of ice in my palm. The beauty of a pattern of frost.
For an instant, a familiar chill filled me. Not the cold of terror or discomfort, but the gentle touch of my magic. I could almost hear ice crackling and forming around me. Almost sense the fresh, wet scent of snow lingering in the air.
But when I opened my eyes, everything was as it had been before.
“Try again,” Garrick urged. He stepped nearer, his eyes gentle, and my stomach clenched with the desire to take his hands in mine.
This time, I didn’t close my eyes. I thought of the frost I’d summoned outside my chambers earlier. I could do that again, surely. With the petals clutched in one hand, I held out the other, palm upward, and concentrated on tracing frosty patterns along my skin. I thought of the power and joy my magic brought me. I thought of Garrick’s confidence in me, and leaned into it, wrapping myself in it until my own belief swelled.
Frost crackled, coating my hand in its silver shimmer and then racing outward until the entire tower roof was glistening in a thin sheet of ice.
Eyes wide, I turned to Garrick. “I did it,” I breathed.
“Of course you did,” he said, beaming.
I wanted to throw my arms around him, but I shoved the urge down deep.
“Try again,” he repeated.
I called upon more frost, thickening the ice around us until, with a laugh, I took a step, letting my slippers slide across the slick surface.
“Careful.” Garrick caught me, his hand swerving at the last second to avoid my skin and catch my forearm, covered in his furs.
The air froze in my throat as he gently drew me closer, setting his other hand on my waist to balance me. His face was inches from mine, our steaming breaths mingling.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
There was a moment, when his eyes dipped to my mouth, that I thought he felt the same desire, the same longing. A confession lingered on my tongue. But as beautiful as the words sounded in my mind, they also were painful. If Garrick felt the same way, wouldn’t I only be driving a dagger into his heart? We couldn’t even touch. We were both bound unwillingly to others. If we didn’t win our freedom, we could never be.
Before I could decide, Garrick’s mouth curved in a crooked smile. “It is my honor, my queen.” His hand dropped from my waist and his fingers loosened from my wrist. He stepped back, and the space between us had never seemed vaster. Even his choice of words—my queen—emphasized distance, like he was only my loyal subject. My heart ached, wishing he’d used my nickname instead.
“Aspen says she has rebels willing to help me,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “Do you know of them?”
Garrick nodded. “I don’t meet with them though. With my blood oath, few trust me.” He shrugged. “They’re right not to. Even Aspen is cautious about how she speaks with me. Any suspected treachery, and Preston or Nerissa could force confessions from my lips. I’d withhold nothing.”
“But—”
“You can’t trust me with every detail of your plans either, Starlight,” he said, his voice low, his eyes sorrowful.
“It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head. “The results would be the same. I don’t know the location of the rebels’ meeting places. I don’t know their strategies. And I don’t want to know any details about what you and Aspen choose to do. Nerissa uses me as her hunter, but also as her spy, when she believes someone to be plotting. She’ll make me share everything, if she thinks you have a plan.”
The question was out of my mouth before I thought it through, my words bitter. “Does she also force you to share...other things?” My cheeks flushed. “She kisses you as if she owns you. Does she...do more?”
Garrick closed his eyes, and instant regret crashed into me. What sort of heartless question was that? But his tone was relieved as he said, “No. I think she sees me as a pet—handsome, but to do more than kiss me would be...appalling to her. I am little better than a human. Disgustingly weak with my inability to glamour others or wield magic outside of shifting or putting others to sleep.”
“And yet those skills are so valuable for her when it comes to catching her prey.”
“There isn’t even a wedding date set or discussed. I think she announced our betrothal for some of the same reasons Preston chose to bind himself to you. If she can claim me as hers—her pet, her hunter, her fiancé—then no one else can view me as...available. And it reminds me I have no hope to bind myself to another in any way, body, heart, or soul.”
My mouth tasted sour.
The wind ruffled through Garrick’s white-blond hair as he crossed his arms, his smile mirthless as he studied the gathering twilight. “Don’t look at me like that. I chose my own fate when I made my blood oath.”
“You didn’t know what they were.”
“I should have been more cautious.”
“Garrick, you were a child.”
His tone was bitter. “And a fool. I must live with the consequences of my choices.”
Before I could try to protest more, Garrick’s gold eyes hardened. “It’s growing darker, Starlight. You need to return to your rooms.”
Powerful blood or not, I winced at the thought of encountering another demon so soon. “You’re right,” I murmured.
Grasping me by the elbow to help me navigate the icy rooftop in my slippers, Garrick led me back to the door.
We were down the stairs and in the first corridor when the sound of claws scraping against stone echoed off the walls.