The Sun of Summer
The artistry of this piece is rough, compared to the others in the collection.
It may be reasonably surmised that this is one of the artist’s first works.
It is carved into the inside of a wardrobe door, a carefully kept secret.
The sun is stylized, large and asymmetrical, with rays arcing out at odd angles, forming intersecting triangles.
The knife work is ragged and tentative, lighter scrapes followed by deeper gouges, as if the artist didn’t feel sure about the project.
There are geometric patterns hidden in the background, like lines on a scrap of parchment.
This feels like a love letter, but one that the artist couldn’t create in words.
The sun remains the central figure, and it is vaguely anthropomorphic in an aspirational way.
Some of the rays have been gilded with both wax and paint, but the project remains incomplete, lending it a rustic aspect.
Kerboros
In the distance, a stately castle gleams like pure gold against the verdant hills.
The lines are gentler than the Winter Palace complex, more gentle curves and seductive spires, minarets touched with glittering gems. I have never seen the Summer lands with my own eyes.
I breathe deeply, noting the sweetness of the air.
There is a balmy quality that differentiates this realm from the Winter lands, distinct from the variance in flora.
White and purple flowers dot the emerald carpet here and there, and trees and bushes grow along the game trail.
There isn’t enough foot traffic for there to be a path, as most of our people travel by portal magic or mushroom rings.
Yet Rosa doesn’t hesitate; she arrows toward the castle, and I wonder how she knows we’re approaching the right side.
There will be gates set aside for each type of guest. Nobles of rank or visiting dignitaries should use the front, but I suspect we qualify for postern doors.
None of us possesses proof of status or even a token that proves we’re conducting Lord Liskaal’s business.
We certainly don’t have the authority to be here.
“We shouldn’t use our real names,” I murmur.
“Why not?” Zeph asks.
A sharpening of Thea’s aspect tells me she understands. “Because we’re recruiting someone to help us locate the Summer delegation.”
“Who went missing in the Winter lands,” I finish.
“Oh. Oh dear. Yes, that would be rather awkward and might lead to unfortunate misunderstandings,” Zeph says.
“I can only be a pixie,” Rosa warns. “Size-changing magic is too taxing to maintain for long, but I can be a different pixie.”
With that, she expels a glittering cloud of magic, and when the sparkles fade, she is a new person.
I should do the same, a glamour that will prevent anyone from identifying me.
I have never dared dispatch the image that is eternally focused on Winter’s hound, a recognizable enforcer throughout the realm.
I concentrate on shifting my features, blurring them, softness here, a gild for my hair.
There.
Zeph has already conjured another look, this one even more fanciful—pink hair, amber eyes, and haunting features; they’ll draw attention wherever we go, but any description provided will certainly be wrong.
I wonder if we should all risk disguises or if some should wait outside the palace compound in the settlement beyond.
Wild fae often live near to the court in their own villages, close enough to work or answer a summons.
In Winter, the two have combined, thanks to my cousin’s inability to cede control on any trifling matter.
It takes Thea a little longer, and she uses a ritual that is unfamiliar to me. When she’s finished, she looks…the same? Perhaps a little more alluring. But then she ties up her hair and makes a few changes with cosmetics as well.
“It will have to do,” she says with a faint sigh.
“I doubt Liskaal has people looking for us specifically,” Zeph says. “Since he tasked you with this mission, and you’re supposed to be reporting back.”
“There will be spies.” I know this with absolute certainty—because many of his people also report to me. “However, you’re correct in one sense. He will be tracking my movements…and Thea’s to the best of his ability. I cannot say whether he would predict our attempt to obfuscate our movements.”
“And he couldn’t have anticipated us recruiting Zeph and Rosa,” Thea adds. “We didn’t know them before.”
Rosa makes a disgusted noise, radiating ire in Zeph’s direction. “I hate court business. I hope you appreciate my forbearance.”
“Couldn’t manage without you,” they say in a cheerful tone.
Thea appears pensive, staring toward the small gate. “Splitting up seems like a good idea. Larger groups are more memorable, and we do have an unusual composition.”
She is correct. Two high fae, one pixie, and…Thea. Who is unique in these lands. I would add irreplaceable if anyone asked.
“If they don’t already know Zeph and Rosa are with us, perhaps we shouldn’t be seen entering the Summer Court with them.” It feels like the wisest course.
I am not suggesting this simply because I prefer having Thea to myself. It is the logical path, offering maximum protection to everyone in our group.
“Suits me,” Zeph says. “Rosa, are you with me?”
“Against my better judgment,” she grumbles.
Thea stops them as they move toward the postern gate. “Wait. How will we find each other again?”
“No worries, love. I could find you in the dark.” Zeph flashes what I presume is meant to be a charming grin, and I clench my jaw.
Their knavish discourtesy deserves a rebuke, and I wish I could deliver it.
My hand twitches toward my weapon, and I take a breath.
They probably didn’t mean for it sound so…
suggestive. It may be a reference to Thea’s aura, nothing more, but anger still simmers at the bottom of my soul, tinting everything crimson.
I stare at them, narrow-eyed, as Thea laughs. “I suppose that’s true. Which is a sign that it might be tough for me to go unnoticed, but I’ll try my best.”
“Mm, fascinating.” Rosa flutters off with Zeph, following like a young fae chasing a butterfly.
“Let’s give them a head start,” Thea suggests.
I have no objections. Silently, I open my pack and offer a flask that still has a little water left.
Tepid, at this point, but she looks pale.
I fight a smile when she accepts it immediately and wonder how it would feel to be close enough to someone, truly close, that they would accept me without question, always believe me, always take my side.
I suspect I’ll never get nearer to that than this—these precious moments with Thea.
“Tell me about Taragon.” It’s an abrupt conversational gambit, and inwardly, I wince at how bad I am at this. It sounds like an order, not how I meant it at all, but I don’t know how to show interest. I can’t force myself to say more—to explain my curiosity or to clarify the peremptory statement.
In my childhood, Liskaal killed anyone who showed partiality for my company, and I drove people away rather than see them destroyed for displaying even a whisper of kindness.
I’m playing a dangerous game with all the irons I have in the fire, but if all factors align, I will, one day, succeed in securing my release from the Winter Court.
Thea laughs. “Yes, boss. Right away, boss.”
I press my lips together briefly, feeling so absurd, it stings. “Please?”
“Better! Don’t worry, you’ll figure out this talking-to-people thing. I can be your training partner.”
Partner. A stunning pang—it feels like I’ve been punched in the chest. Even if she’s joking, I hate how much I relish that word.
It requires all my aplomb to speak in a repressive tone. “If you insist.”
“I’ll stop teasing you. Taragon… Let’s see.
We met when she was fostering in the Winter Court.
Her family owns a tavern in the market, on the mercantile side of the palatial plaza.
She stayed with me and Da for a few years, and we got close.
At one point, we were like sisters. We tried to stay in touch, but correspondence can be irregular between the courts, and arranging visits in the wildlands is a challenge too. For different reasons.”
I nod. Communication between the courts can occur through scrying surfaces, like crystals, pools, or mirrors, or messages that arrive in the form of written letters, carried sporadically by whoever happens to be traveling.
Both options carry a risk of tampering or interception, so it’s often better to visit personally whenever possible.
But Thea lacks an innate facility with portals, and the mushroom circles can be slow since mushrooms sometimes choose not to cooperate.
In addition, Liskaal controls her almost as tightly as he does me, albeit for dissimilar reasons.
“So you haven’t seen her in a while?”
“Unfortunately not. But she’ll be an asset to the team. If you think Da is likable, you’ll be amazed at how sweet Tara is. She could make a pixie purr.”
“High praise indeed.”
“I think it’s probably been long enough,” Thea says then.
I glance at the gates. No sign of Zeph or Rosa, so I agree. “Let’s find your friend. It should be a memorable reunion.”
Eyes wide, she lowers her head with a soft groan. “I really, really wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that.”