33. Raven #3
“I assure you, Grandmother.” Winter’s fingers skimmed the length of my upper arm.
“The report is no more exaggerated than her skill. I was gone from this life as I know it. Holed up in… Holed up in a world of my own making. The inner dwelling of my magic, I believe. It was Raven who led me back. I followed her voice.”
He spoke with a tone I had not heard him use before. Not as a friend or family, but as a royal addressing another royal.
The queen’s features brightened, her eyes twinkling like star fire. “Quite curious. In all our years trapped in this blasted curse, we haven’t found a magic wielder worthy of returning our lost loved ones. Until now. Maybe you can help our ailing citadel.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could utter a word, Winter raised our clasped hands, displaying my frozen, blue fingers.
“Her efforts were not without consequence…what she did for me,” he said.
“Winter’s magic,” the queen said with a sense of awe. “How extraordinary.” She reached a tentative finger toward my iced-over hand and recoiled at the cold. “And you cannot fix this, Winter?”
“I have tried.” Disappointment pulled at his features. “I continue to try even now. But I feel it has dug its roots deep within her.”
The queen rubbed a finger against the edge of her chin and nodded, her lips twisting in contemplation. “When you have healed others, has their magic doubled back on you in this negative manner?”
I tensed. I should have expected the question given my current state, and yet…nope, I hadn’t.
“I’ve only ever healed one other in a semi-similar state, and I sensed no magic that time,” I said. Although I hadn’t even sensed I’d actively begun to heal that person. “Definitely not magic on the level I found within Winter.”
The magic holed up inside Winter could become a powerhouse if released.
“Valen.” The queen clucked, raised her hand high, and snapped her fingers, calling one of the servants standing against the wall. “Get me Valen. I require my tonic.”
“Thank you, Grandmother,” Winter said with a bow.
I tossed him an inquisitive glance, and Winter granted me one quick smile but kept his gaze forward upon his grandmother as the three of us waited.
I folded my hands together, hiding my blue fingers in the wrap of my less affected hand, and rocked up and down on the pads of my feet. I fought the desire to tap a foot or fidget.
We waited several minutes for Valen to arrive with a curvy glass bottle in hand.
Within the bottle, a shimmering liquid. He poured a small circle of the contents into the queen’s awaiting palm.
Thicker than water, but not nearly as thick as honey, the queen massaged the shimmery tonic across her fingers and palms, then she inhaled a whiff.
“This should work nicely.” She stepped closer to me, her smile slight but pleased. “Let me see your fingers, dear.”
I obliged, presenting both hands tipped with blue. And as I did, my gaze slid to Valen. Something about him seemed oddly different, but I couldn’t determine what exactly that “something” was.
“This shouldn’t hurt…much.” The queen folded one tonic-covered hand over each of mine, pulling my full attention back to the task at hand.
She inhaled deeply through her nose. Once, twice, four times. With each inhale, a sliver, then a bite, then a chunk of frost melted away.
After the fourth pull of the queen’s inhale, warmth and color returned to my hands. The ice burn subsided, and a gentle tingle ensued—blood once again moving through my fingertips.
“Thank you.” I released my amazement in a soft breath. I flexed my fingers, flipping my hands forward and back, examining them from both sides. “How?”
“You are in a citadel filled with ancient magic wielders,” the queen responded.
She turned and patted Winter on his shoulder.
Despite my company, and my better judgment, I frowned. “Your citadel has a serious issue. Possibly more than one.”
“You are not wrong.” The queen tipped her head ever so slightly.
Winter cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around mine once more, giving my rejuvenated fingers a tight squeeze. “And Raven has a missing friend. I thought maybe we could use our resources to help locate him.”
His grandmother responded with a slight nod, showing no hints regarding her thoughts on providing help or not.
She raised her tonic-covered hands and smiled gently. “Winter, my boy, would you mind getting me a towel so that I might wipe my hands clean?”
“Of course.” Confusion flickered in his gaze, there and gone.
With a tight bow, he turned and disappeared in search of a towel. No doubt, a task easily—normally—handled by a member of the staff.
I stood alone with the queen, all listening ears a fair distance from our position in the middle of the throne room.
Potent power vibrated in the open space, pressed upon me, and settled over the queen, stripping the loving grandmother from her demeanor.
With the square of her shoulders and the rise of her chest, she became a powerhouse absorbing all the surrounding energies.
She leaned forward, moving her lips within inches of my ear. “I know what you are.”