We walked in silence for what seemed like hours, but the cold did not chill me, and I did not tire. I was, however, getting a little bored. But then we came to the tree line, and here the trees ceased being silhouettes and became towering sentinels, dark in their boughs, covered with frozen ice and snow. I reached out to touch one of the limbs, and the tree shuddered gently as a dusting of powder fell to the ground, taking one of the icicles with it. A howl echoed in the distance, and I whirled.
“Animals? There are animals here?”
Of course. They live in the frozen land. Elk and reindeer, the bear and the wolf and the fox, the owl and winter rabbit.
They led me into the wood, deep into the heart of the forest, and more time passed under the silence of the woodland. But as we progressed, here and there I heard the echoing call of a bird, the rustle of a bush with animals hiding behind it. Life began to make itself known, and I felt a deep unwinding inside, as if a knot had loosened that I hadn’t even realized was there.
And then we stopped at the foot of a tall fir tree. A pale glow from the snow told me that there was an entrance to a portal here—I’d seen this before when we went after Lainule’s heartstone. I stood back as one of the Elementals brushed away a layer of snow and opened a trapdoor. And then he turned to me, handing me the box.
You must go alone. When you have set the traps and wards, then follow the path out.
Traps? Wards? How am I supposed to do that?
You will understand when you are there. We cannot follow you in this part of the journey, but we will be waiting.
I took the box from him, cautiously so I didn’t accidentally open it, and then I knelt and peeked into the portal. Just as I’d figured, there was a vortex. It was spinning like a funnel cloud, only I was looking in from the top. The colors here—unlike those of the portal I’d passed through on my journey for Lainule—were blue and pink and frozen purple and white so bright it shone almost silver.
I had to go through it. And I had to take the box with me and not lose hold of it. I thought for a moment, then hiked my robe up to just above my knees. I laid the box in the material, then folded it over and knotted it tightly, creating a pocket. Then, holding tight to the knot, I steeled my courage and leaped into the maelstrom.
Sudden chaos…then, a deluge of wind and hail racing past…I’m in the center of the tornado and the whirl of colors threatens to blind. A dizzying array, a magnificent specter of winter to come, of winter past, as I spin, caught in the vacuum sucking me down…
A waft of air…I’ve left my stomach behind in the rush of the fall, but now I whirl lazily, like leaves caught in autumn’s grasp, but this is not autumn and the boreal wind is biting even in its softer moments.
Buoying up…caught on the currents, riding them down as the shadows flicker past, a cacophony of color blinds me as a phantasmagoria of whispers ride the slipstream, echoing in my head like shouts from a distant camp.
One last gasp…and the colors vanish as I hurtle through a layer of mist to land, crouching, on the floor of a long, narrow tunnel.
Slowly, I unfolded myself, standing as I tested whether I’d broken anything, but I was unharmed. I stood, barefoot, on the floor of the tunnel, looking for some sort of illumination besides the light coming from the flashing vortex above me.
Faint twinkles of light sparkled from within the smooth walls. They were ice. At least, I thought they were, but when I actually went over to touch them, I discovered they were glass—clear tiles with swirls of color dappling them. The colors of winter. The colors of my realm. Unlike Lainule’s tunnel, the illumination was very faint from within them, but I was beginning to understand. The light must have faded when Tabera had been killed. Once my heartstone was in place, it would return to this shadowy realm, as would life.
I followed the corridor. There was nothing else here that was living—that much was apparent. I hurried, wanting to be done with this, wanting contact with my friends again. It felt like I had been alone for a very long time, and even Lainule’s presence hadn’t done anything to dissuade that feeling.
There were passages off the main one, but I kept straight—something inside told me that I’d know when it was time to veer off, and true to my instinct, I finally came to a T in the path. I looked to the left, then the right. A spark of light caught my attention. As I stared at it, I knew that was the correct direction.
As I turned to the right, my feet urged me to go faster and I found myself running. It was as if there were a magnet on the other end, a force I couldn’t ignore. I raced down the hallway and suddenly skidded into a chamber filled with ice and snow and giant crystals—this time they really were crystals. Snow serpents coiled around the clear spires, eyeing me with their eyes, as black as the vampires’.
I paused. There was something I needed to do here. Something I needed to say. As I waited, striving to find some kernel of understanding, one of the serpents uncoiled itself and slithered over to me.
“You would set a guardian here, young Queen?”
I paused, looking around. The path to Lainule’s heartstone had been fraught with dangers and guardians. “Yes, but I’m not sure how.”
“Ask, and it shall be done.”
I gazed at the serpent and it flicked its tongue in and out, and then it rose, coiling up till it could look me in the eye. For a moment I feared it might strike me, and those great teeth would easily rip holes in my face, but then it tilted its head to the side and I reached out, not thinking, and lightly stroked its head.
“You are here to watch over my heartstone, aren’t you?”
“I am, if you would have me.”
“Please, guard the path, then. Do what you need to in order to keep my enemies from harming me.”
And it was just that easy. A sense of watchfulness filled the air, and every other serpent in the chamber rose to attention. I turned back to the guardian snake.
“What’s your name?”
“Dark Fang. By this you shall know me. I stand for you, Cicely Waters. I shall stand for your queenship.” And then he moved out of my way, slithering to the side, and I passed on.
Once beyond the crystal chamber, I entered a long hallway. There I found a brigade of skeletons, unmoving, carrying axes. I gazed at them carefully until I found the one that looked like the leader. All too aware that their blades looked deathly sharp, I approached him and looked him over. A ring lay at his feet. I picked it up and slid it on my finger. Immediately, the warrior snapped to full attention, as did his company.
“Guard these halls for me. Let none enter who seeks to harm me.” It sounded as good as anything and was the only thing I could think of.
The skeleton bent down to one knee, his bones creaking as he did so. He bowed his head. “As you will.” The wind whistled through his teeth, rattling like a stiff breeze through quaking aspen.
As I passed, they closed ranks behind me, guarding the way.
I continued on, curious to see what the third guardian would be. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, I had a premonition as to what might be waiting, and I prayed I was wrong. Myst used them, and they were deadly and cunning and magical, but I really, really didn’t like them. But as I entered the next chamber, I saw that my intuition had been right.
A forest grew here. How it grew beneath the ground I did not know, but trees stood tall, swaying in the breeze, and dark bushes filled in the undergrowth. All were covered in snow. The sky was a pale silver, but I knew it was actually a ceiling. From that ceiling, an intricate web of lacework, spun from frost and snow and spidersilk, spanned the ceiling. And hanging from the center, ice spiders. Huge, white with golden accents, they were intelligent and fierce. I shivered, staring at them as they waited.
I can’t show my fear. They may react, whether or not I’m to be the Queen. I have to show strength and control.
My heart was pounding, but I forced myself to walk up to the web of the nearest—and biggest—spider. She stared at me with glittering faceted eyes and let out a low hiss, moving one jointed leg ever so slightly.
I didn’t flinch, just stood, waiting. This was a game of poker, and as of yet, she was the strongest guardian—and strongest foe—I’d faced.
Lowering herself to the ground, she scuttled to stop directly in front of me. I didn’t step back, didn’t look away. After another false run, she seemed to deflate a little. “You wish me to guard your chamber?”
“I do. Guard it against all enemies who would seek to destroy me.”
A light flashed between us and she backed away, returning to her web. “Pass, Queen of the Realm. My sisters and I shall stand sentinel.”
I crossed through the snowy underground forest, pressing on until I came to another opening. The chamber into which I stepped was empty, but behind an alcove lay yet another chamber and I knew this was my goal. I glanced at the seat by the doorway. No one was there. I had to trust that all was as it should be, and I passed by the empty chair and into the next chamber.
At the center of the chamber was a tower rising into the air. The chamber soared so high I could barely see the ceiling, and a rock quarry was off to the far right. The tower was circled by stairs made of ice, and I knew exactly what to do. I’d seen the result once before. I hurried to the pillar and began to climb the stairs. Below, a dizzying panorama spread out; the chamber was at least the size of a football stadium.
I hurried up the round staircase that encircled the tower, and when I reached the top, I found a dais. An indentation waited—just the size of the box with my heartstone. Untying the knot in my hem, I cautiously pulled out the box and opened it, one last time. I didn’t touch the gem, merely watched the slow pulse of blue in the heart of the jewel. This was me. This was my essence. My life, and I held it all in my hands, in that one little box, encased in a gem that would—with luck—rest here until I was ready to walk into the mists.
Slowly, reverently, I placed the box on the dais. For a moment nothing happened, and then a dome of crystal covered the box, and the dais descended into the center of the tower. A rumbling caught my attention—the tower was shaking. Without thinking, I flung myself off the side and transformed into an owl, but instead of getting caught in my gown, as would normally happen if I forgot to undress, the gown shifted with me and I swung up and around the tower as it began to lower itself into the ground.
I flew down to the bottom and transformed back. As my clothing shifted back with me, I smiled faintly. Another perk of being the Queen.
The tower rumbled and grumbled its way into the floor, turning and twisting like some behemoth, and when it vanished, stones began to fly up from the quarry to the right. A structure built itself as I watched, each stone fitting in place until the top of the tower was hidden from view and the hole into which it had sunk could be seen no more. Lastly, a door sealed the front of the stone compartment. The door was silver, with a lock, and within that lock, a key. Lainule’s heartstone had been locked away behind two keys—one for Summer, one for Winter. But I had the feeling that had been altered to be that way when the Queen of Winter had been murdered.
I reached out and slowly removed the key, holding it in my hand.
Now what? My heartstone was sealed away, but I couldn’t keep the key with me. At that moment, a faint humming echoed from just outside the door and I followed it, the key firmly in hand. A woman sat on the chair that had been empty, and behind her a doorway was now visible.
She regarded me carefully, then handed me a velvet box. The box had a velvet cushion within, and an impression the size of the key. I set the key within the box and then closed it, looking up at the woman. She did not speak, but I knew what she was and I didn’t want that deafening voice echoing in my head.
“You are an Air Maiden, are you not?”
She inclined her head.
“You will guard this chamber.”
Again, she nodded. And then she curtseyed and I curtseyed to her—the Air Maidens were terribly powerful and their voices could rack the brain.
Satisfied, I turned back to the recess behind her and turned the doorknob. The door opened with a start, and I stumbled into yet another chamber. As I’d expected, there was a large pond, but the pond was iced over, and a dark shadowy woman knelt by the side of it. She watched me, saying nothing, as I walked to the edge.
There was no boat, no way to the center, but I knew where I had to go. I struck out on the ice, praying it would hold my weight. Once again, I found that I could glide across it with no problem. I crossed to the center of the pond and looked down. A hole, some twelve inches wide, marked the center, and I knelt down and breathed onto the water churning below.
“I have come. Reveal yourself to me.” It sounded good, and it was what my instinct told me to say.
At first nothing happened, but then I glanced up to see the dark woman crawling along the ice. She reached the other side and spoke in some guttural language that had its roots in a culture so primal I doubted anyone could understand her. A moment later, a dais rose up from the center of the ice, and on that dais rested a silver bowl with cover. I quietly placed the box with the key into it, then replaced the cover and stepped back. With a low rumble, the dais withdrew back into the water, and the ice covered over as if it had never been anything but one solid sheet.
The woman pointed to me, then to the other side of the lake, and I nodded, following her direction. As I came to the shore, I turned back. She was watching, waiting, and the entire chamber felt like it had gone on high alert. I stepped onto the shore, and there my Ice Elementals waited. I was about to say something when one of them blew on me with an icy breath, and I went tumbling into the darkness.
Chapter 8
When I opened my eyes, I was back in my room—the one I shared with Grieve—in bed. I sat up, wondering if this had all been just a weird dream, but one look at his face told me that it hadn’t. Grieve was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my hand, watching me.
