I assumed I’d be taken to their sacrificial altar or, worse yet, to their ice goddess. What I didn’t expect was for my captor to slow his pace to a trot, then turn and gallop in the opposite direction. The faceless rider spurred his mount, through the darkness, while I buried my fingers in the horse’s mane, once again trying desperately not to fall. A muscular arm threaded around my waist, holding me in place. My heart was pounding so hard I knew he must be able to feel it. Just don’t fall, I repeated to myself over and over as the horse accelerated to a dangerously high speed.
We were riding so fast we barely had time to stop at the fast approaching cliff. At the last second the horse bucked, throwing me into the chest of the rider holding me from behind. A sudden chill coursed through me as his cool breath caressed my neck. I wanted to scream, to run… to do something, but right now we were precariously close to the edge of a precipice and all I could do was hold my breath.
Then the horse stepped forward off the edge of the cliff into the air. I stifled a shriek as my stomach dropped into my boots. A suspended bridge made entirely of ice as see-through as glass, and equally fragile, grew inch by inch with every step we took. My mind froze, but there was no time for my body to do the same. Before I could think, we had moved halfway across the precarious crossing. With nothing but the snow-dusted surface to cling to, the steed inched its way across the bridge, trying to remain upright, while I tried not to look down. In all the years spent fussing over being afraid of blood and singing in public I didn’t realize my fear of heights could ever be so continually challenged.
I almost slipped off the side, and my heart slammed against my chest, but the rider wrapped his arm tightly around my waist, holding me firmly in place. When I was sure I couldn’t hold my breath any longer without passing out, we stepped onto solid ground. The sound of hooves receded in the distance behind us. My heart continued to race as a new terror came over me. I was alone with this rider, far from the rest of his clan with their plans of sacrifice. But I had no idea what he planned on doing with me. Fresh panic swelled inside me, threatening to cut off my oxygen.
The mystery rider slid down from the mount, and threw back his crimson hood. I stared into the familiar silver eyes of my nightmares. The strength drained from my limbs and I almost fell to the ground.
I gaped in disbelief and relief as Zanthiel plunged his sword into the edge of the icy bridge; the cracking trembled through the air. With the shatter of broken glass, the icy shards splintered apart, falling silently into the raging water below. After the Armageddon scale thunder fell a deafening silence.
He nodded at the chasm behind us. “What was after you will have to travel for days before finding another crossing. And longer still for them to notice you are missing.”
“How—how did you—?” An icy gale howled, drowning out my question. Wind surged up from the abyss, like an angry cry. My body convulsed with shivers.
He led the horse forward, safely away from the rift then tossed his cloak around my trembling shoulders.
“Come on, we should get you out of here before you become a frozen treat for whatever chooses to hunt you next.”
“Ha,” I replied, with a short humorless laugh then repeated my question through chattering teeth. “How did you find me?”
“The summer court has been tracking your progress, or lack thereof. And word was sent from the dwarf.”
“Tilak?” I frowned. “And the summer fey sent you?
He smirked. “Of course not.”
“Well, where is Tilak now? How did he know I was missing?”
“How should I know?” He held out a hand to help me down from the red-eyed stallion which threw back its head with a fiery snort. “Who knows what goes on in the mind of a dwarf?”
I glanced back across the gorge, toward the place where I came far too close to becoming the next human sacrifice. I climbed down, still unsure whether my rescue was actually a rescue and not a lateral move out of the proverbial frying pan, into the fire… considering my rescuer.
“Carnal Sorcerers,” he said, meeting my inquisitive gaze and answering my question before I could ask it. “They’re only half living. They are the soulless shadow creatures of Noctria. To survive, they bond with humans by sacrificing a human’s soul. They have no other way of reproducing, so they reproduce prolifically in the hopes of creating offspring possessing their same genetic code. The established laws of nature prevent them from succeeding… and then, they wait for death,” he said. “That is when they become truly dangerous.”
I couldn’t control the shudder that crept over me. “What they did, to that woman…” I barely managed to get the words out without gagging.
“She was looking for a child taken by Faeries. Neither will ever leave the Nevermore. Carnal Sorcerers appease the gods with the souls of impure, lost humans. And trolls are fed the internal remains.” He looked up at me and frowned. “But as the Chosen One, they had other plans for you.”
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Why wasn’t I going to be troll food?” The thought was almost too horrifying to consider.
Zanthiel leaned in closer, his cold breath burning against my damp skin. “You were not on the menu.” He inhaled deeply then moved back. “The fact that you stand here still with life coursing through your veins is proof of that. I am here to see you make it to the Faery Islands without further mishap or delay. As amusing as your little adventures have been, the Summer Queen grows tired of waiting on you.”
“I can’t leave for Faery,” I countered. Not yet. Not without Adrius.”
Zanthiel paused, his liquid eyes narrowing. “The elf… Surely you’re not serious.” He grabbed my arm, but I pulled away, locking my muscles.
“You don’t understand,” I said.
“I do not have any desire to understand. I am here on a purpose… To bring you to Tir Na Nog.”
I folded my arms across my chest, and he shook his head, a slow feral grin spreading across his face.
“I can take you by force if you prefer,” he offered, his metallic voice dripping with forced sweetness.
Tilting my chin upwards, I withdrew the sword Adrius had given me after the Redcap attack, cringing at the sound of rasping metal. It glowed in my hand, purple smoke coiling around my arm, up the blade and into the night.
“I’m not leaving without him, Zanthiel. Period.” I held the sword out in front of me, tightening my grip.
His mouth curved into a demonic grin.
“So. You would trade your life for his? How noble,” he said, stepping toward the blade.
I stepped back.
“Why not? He is one of the purest souls I’ve ever met. I can’t think of someone more worthy of giving my life for.”
He took another step forward. “There are no pure souls any more than there are pure gods watching over you. If you cannot protect yourself, no one else can. Powerful magic and negotiating a favorable bargain regulate this world. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.”
“That’s pretty cynical even for someone as ice-hearted as you," I said, jabbing the air with my blade.
"I am truthful. It's the beings inhabiting the world we exist in that are ice-hearted, such as the ones trying to drain you of blood.” He smirked and leaned forward into my blade. “Now if you’re doing this, then do it. Or get out of my way. I’m good with either choice, but I do not need your death on my conscience."
This time I stepped toward him, but lowered my sword.
“Like you have a conscience… As if my death was any concern to you at all,” I spat.
“What sort of being do you take me for?”
“A petty, twisted, selfish one.”
He gave a dark chuckle, his gaze shifting to the floral chain circling my wrist. Adrius had purchased it for me back when we were in Mythlandria, from a local artisan who tells the story of your life with flowers. She had held onto my hand for a moment, with her eyes closed, chanted something aloud and then set to work fashioning a wild flower bracelet, feverishly pulling blooms from an array of dust-covered jars. I still remember the meaning she assigned to each blossom in the intricate weave. Snowdrops for purity, carnations for a mother's love, viscaria for an invitation to dance, witch-hazel for a magic spell, amaranth for immortal love, coriander for lust, grass for submission, lobelia for malevolence, and lemon balm for Faerie sight. Right about now, I was wishing she’d left that one out. She had packed it in a box with three shades of poppies, which she said represented my journey; white for eternal love, yellow for extreme betrayal, and black… for death. Adrius had scoffed at her reading, but I insisted on wearing the bracelet, which was breathtaking to look at and smelled divine. Even if I wasn’t too crazy about what it foretold. The memory of him purchasing it for me and slipping it onto my wrist with a kiss washed away any negative symbolism it held.
Zanthiel’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“You think you love him, don’t you?”
“I know I love him.”
He shook his head, and I saw my reflection in his mercury glare. "Loving him is like drinking poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same. Slow and painful, the fire will consume you from within."
A twinge of anger stabbed me. “So tell me then, who do you think I should love, since you’re such an expert?” I lashed out. “You?”
Zanthiel moved toward me, until his face was inches away from mine. I held my ground, resisting the equally compelling urge to either retreat or eliminate the space between us completely. Icy fingers wrapped around my wrist, lifting my floral bracelet to his nose.
“That,” he said, locking eyes with me, “would be like an ice dagger to the heart.” He sniffed the bouquet, still holding my gaze. “Quick. Painless. And cold.”
“Some choice,” I said too softly, pulling back my wrist as I stepped away, “—Death by fire or death by ice.”
“Have you a preference?” he asked, his liquid eyes following mine.
“Yes, I do.” I took a deep breath and met his gaze head on. “Forcing me to leave without Adrius would be like feeding me poison and expecting him to die.
“Meaning?” he said without blinking.
“Meaning… I’d choose fire.”
Zanthiel was quiet, and he narrowed his gaze. “And yet you trust a winter fey to aid you in rescuing the elf prince.” He frowned. “Why?”
That was a good question. Why indeed? Part of me felt foolish not to be afraid of him, but in a strange and twisted way, I’d known him for years.
“I have to trust you…” came my feeble reply. And for the most part, it was true. Here in the wilds of the Nevermore with Adrius trapped in Octãhvia’s lair, he was my only hope.
His gazed still locked on mine, he stepped forward, took my blade and sheathed it, then turned away.
“You trust too easily. It will be your downfall one day.” With that he mounted his horse. “We need to leave now if we’re going to reach the borders of Noctria before dawn.”
I exhaled a sigh of relief, and let him pull me up behind him onto to the wraithlike stallion, which snorted a fiery huff before launching into the night. “Don’t let go,” he shouted, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the cool tautness of muscle through his cloak.
Convincing Zanthiel to help me rescue Adrius was only the beginning. I wasn’t fully prepared for what I’d invited in doing so. You know the expression cold hands, cold heart… it goes double for a Faerie from the Winter Court. They were not governed by mortal rules of right or wrong. They didn’t hold to codes of honor, morality, or fair play.
“Now is as good a time as any for a pity mission,” he said over his shoulder, as we reached the all too familiar gates of Noctria in record time. I’m not sure how he and his Faerie horse got us there so quickly, but I didn’t bother to ask.
“Octãhvia should be occupied with preparation for her war. Her dungeons will not be as heavily guarded. You there,” he called, leaping down from the steed so quickly I nearly lost my balance. “Tell me where to find the Ice Queen.”
When the creature saw Zanthiel’s midnight wing span shadowing the ground it hissed and turned to run. Zanthiel lanced a dagger at it, striking its leg and pinning it to the ground.
He drew his sword and stalked toward the bleeding creature. I cringed at the rasping metal and swathing cold blue mist that filled the air, then panicked when Zanthiel brandished it in front of him.
Scrambling to the ground, I was just in time to grab his arm, and stop him from doing whatever he was planning… the thin blade poised in mid air.
"Before you end his life, shouldn’t we at least hear what he has to say? Maybe now he’s more willing to talk," I said, my hand slowly lowering his.
He gave me a strange look, a hint of exasperation in his silvery eyes, but strode toward the beast cowering on the ground. The creature would have fled if it could have, that much was obvious.
Zanthiel towered over it, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Have you anything to say?” he asked, arching one eyebrow.
It shook its woolly head, whimpering and trembling in the corner.
“Fine,” the shadow fey said calmly.
Before I could blink, Zanthiel plunged his sword into the creature’s heart and withdrew it with equal ferocity.
I gasped, my hands flying up to cover my mouth to keep from screaming.
Wiping his blade, he sheathed it and sauntered toward me.
I stood there unable to speak through my horror, outrage, and nausea — just staring at him in stony silence.
He peered into my face with a sharp smile, his cold hand reaching for my arm. “Are you ready?”
I smacked his hand away and pushed past him. “I hate you so much right now,” I said through clenched teeth.
Zanthiel furrowed his brow, but followed me without further comment.
We mounted a spiraling staircase of ice, which felt a little like walking on air. I tried not to look down until we reached the landing of the third level. I stopped to catch my breath, but Zanthiel’s keen senses didn’t have an off switch. He was like a cat, hearing sounds far too quiet for my ears to detect.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered. “Get behind me.”
A second later, another of Octãhvia’s ghoulish watchmen rounded the corner and was met with the tip of an icy sword.
“Tell us where we can find the Elf Prince,” he demanded.
I peered around Zanthiel’s frame at the creature, which froze. Upon closer inspection, it was apparent he was unarmed, holding only a stack of folded towels. He must have been a servant, and he looked a lot like the house brownies I’d seen in Mythlandria… scary as anything to look at, but completely harmless.
With eyes as wide as dinner plates, fixed on the glowing blue blade, he stuttered his reply. “H-he’s up that way, t-t-to the attic, in the dungeons.”
I frowned. “The dungeons are on the top level?” I whispered.
“Witches are weird like that.” Zanthiel reached out, grabbed the creature, and tossed it through an ice-paned window. My jaw dropped. The howling ended in a bone-crushing smash as the brownie smashed into the ice three stories below.
“What are you doing?” I half whispered, dashing to the window. Far below the creature staggered to its feet then limped away into the snowy banks. I whirled around and glared. “You could have killed him!”
Zanthiel gave me a look, the kind that said what’s wrong with you?
"I rarely fling creatures out of windows for the good of their health. Of course, I was trying to kill him."
He grabbed my arm and pulled me up the narrow stairway.
“How do you know your way around here so well?” I whispered.
Zanthiel cast a glance in my direction but didn’t answer.
Several dark corridors later, we found the chamber of souls. The stench of death hung in the frigid air and I held my breath, trying not to throw up. A door of ten-inch thick ice was slightly ajar, and inside was Adrius, held in a small cell with bars formed of glowing blue ice.
“Adrius!” I gasped and ran toward the cage, but Zanthiel pulled me back.
“It’s spelled with dark magic. You should stay back,” Zanthiel said, moving forward.
“But if it’s spelled, how will you get him out?”
He sniffed the air and then smirked. “This enchantment works only on elf blood. Clearly she wasn’t expecting the Prince to be rescued by a fey,” he retorted, ignoring the shocked and enraged glare Adrius was shooting at him.
Zanthiel placed his hand on the cage and with a pull, it shattered, leaving Adrius free. I ran to him, and he folded me into his arms.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, stroking my hair. I pulled back to see his question was directed at Zanthiel.
“She insisted,” he replied, eyeing us with a look I couldn’t place.
“So you let her risk her life. Are you insane?”
“No, Adrius, don’t… it was my fault. I forced him to help me,” I said, throwing Zanthiel an apologetic glance.
He turned away.
“I had to get you out of here. I couldn’t keep going. Not knowing she was torturing you.” I looked him over. Aside from a bluish pallor from the cold, he seemed fine. “What did she do to you?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he murmured, pulling me back into his arms. His voice softened. “I’m just so glad you’re alright.”
“Well, as touching as this is,” Zanthiel bristled, “perhaps we should consider exiting purgatory before we all become permanent guests.”
“He’s right,” I said taking Adrius’s hand.
Zanthiel led us back through the stairways and tunnels we took to find Adrius.
Adrius’s hand wrapped tightly around mine as we wove the labyrinth of halls until we found what we thought was our way out.
I stopped, pulling Adrius back. “Something’s wrong,” I said, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach. “This is too easy.”
“No one is here, Lorelei,” Adrius reassured me. “Her armies left at dawn.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up.
We were almost out of the castle, when Octãhvia materialized, the way liquid solidifies into ice, she flowed into the room crystallizing into form a few feet from us. There was a flash of white light and a door slammed shut. And we were suddenly inside an ornately-decorated sitting room, furnished with an ice-carved sofa, chaise lounge, tables, and chairs. Her white knuckled fingers were wrapped around the hilt of a staff. It was carved from blue ice and crowned with a snowy-white skull. A long flowing white cape trimmed with red fur floated around her. Beneath the shadows her face held traces of beauty. With her prominent cheek bones jutting against translucent ivory skin, she looked harmless enough. But it was her eyes that gave away her true nature. Like staring into the soul of the Lucifer himself — black as coal, exuding pure evil. Her savage sphinx-like gaze measured each of us with a slightly bemused expression, before she glided to the sofa across the room.
Zanthiel snarled. Adrius pulled me behind him.
The ice creaked as though heaving a great sigh as she reclined. She spoke slowly, and as always, it was her voice which caught me off guard. The melodious honey tones starkly out of alignment with the malevolence of her presence.
“What an unexpected pleasure,” she chimed. “Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable.”
Nobody budged. But I felt Adrius tensing next to me.
Octãhvia languished on the sofa fashioned from ice, leaning back against a heap of pale blue, silk throw pillows. Another house brownie shuffled in from an adjacent room and placed a cigarette in a long-stemmed cigarette holder between her blood stained lips then scurried away. She snapped her fingers and the end ignited, glowing with blue embers and wisps of white smoke.
“To what do I owe this delightful return visit?” Her breath formed swirling vapors in the frigid air.
The cold didn’t seem to bother Zanthiel much. Being a Winter Prince from the Unseelie, he was of it. Octãhvia wielded it, wore it like a second skin, and used it as a weapon, but the winter fey carried the cold within them.
“You didn’t think I’d just leave him here to die did you?” I stepped out from behind Adrius. My hands lightly touched the Inner Eye hanging around my neck. I had no idea how much protection that stone would provide, but it must have yielded enough that she didn’t try to freeze me where I stood this time.
She sat back and regarded me with cold ruthless disdain, tapping her ruby nails rhythmically against the ice. I tucked my chin into my fur collar, jamming my frozen hands into my pockets, as the temperature plunged and light flurries drifted to the ground. Then she smiled.
“Lorelei, darling, it’s so good of you to have returned. After our last encounter, well, I assumed you’d be halfway to Faery by now. And yet, here you are.” Her eyes glistened, darting to Zanthiel. “And with the Shadow Prince in tow,” she said, arching one perfectly tweezed brow. “You do have a thing for royal boy toys. I admire your discernment.”
She examined her nails, as she directed her comment to Zanthiel. “I guess the Unseelie Court fey have evolved to much higher planes if the Queen of Air and Darkness herself is sending her beloved heir to rescue an Elven Prince. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day. Perhaps peace between witches and fey isn’t so impossible.”
I watched the muscle in Adrius’s jaw flex, but he didn’t say a word. She chuckled, and I had to rub my hands together to regain the circulation.
“In fact, if I recall, the last time the two of you played together, you were attempting to slice one another to ribbons.” She paused and looked up, her cool gaze falling on me with a dusting of frost. “Over a girl, if memory serves.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. The cold air hit my lungs and I sputtered and coughed. Adrius and Zanthiel — had fought over the same girl? When was this? And who was the girl? I glanced at Zanthiel, but he just glared at the witch with a mercurial grin.
“Good times,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“Almost as much fun as it will be when we slaughter you, if you try to stop us,” Adrius added as his hand gripped the hilt of his sword, his eyes gleaming in fierce determination.
Octãhvia laughed, filling the room with tinkling music.
“How delightful to know that chivalry is indeed alive and well…” She clapped her hands, moving toward a door of ice which glided open. “It may please you to know, darlings, that I have no intention of trying to stop you… though I think it rather rude of you to repeatedly drop by unannounced.
I frowned, what kind of a trick was she playing this time? Letting us go… just like that? No strings attached. Yeah, right. We’d have to be pretty gullible to buy into that one.
“I would like to talk with, Lorelei.” She held her hand out toward the open door. “Leave us for a moment, won’t you, boys? We need to have a little chat, girl to girl.”
Adrius and Zanthiel exchanged a look, but I was the one who nodded my consent.
“You’ll all be free to go once we’re finished, darlings. I’m much too busy to entertain any more unexpected guests.”
Adrius drew his sword and swirling flames circled his blade, reflecting orange light off every surface in the room. “Not a chance,” he said, shaking his head. He stepped toward the witch, but a hand reached out to stop him. Adrius glared at Zanthiel’s hand resting on his shoulder, before shoving it away.
“As much as I’d like to see you vaporized… or frozen into a garden statue,” he growled in a low voice, “…you have to think about the girl.”
“He’s right,” I said, hardly believing those words were coming out of my mouth. Adrius grimaced, but didn’t lower his sword. I moved closer to him. “She doesn’t need to invite me to talk. She could have taken me by force or magic,” I assured him. Not entirely assuring myself. “I’ll be fine.”
Octãhvia watched us, her eyes dancing with amusement.
“This is always such a delightful little drama.” She clapped. “But time is of the essence. You can have her back in a short while and the competition can resume.”
“There is no competition,” I snapped, marching toward the doorway.
Adrius gave me his I-don’t-like-this frown.
“Don’t look so worried, pet.” She beamed. “You’ve been more than generous. There’s nothing more I can ask from you today.”
I gave Adrius a small smile which I hoped said it’s okay, and entered the room.
Zanthiel raised one eyebrow, but Adrius shot him a look.
“It’s the truth. She has what she wants,” Adrius said quietly.
I don’t think he meant for me to overhear it.
Octãhvia grinned. “We won’t be but a moment,” she added as the ten-inch thick ice door slammed closed, sealing me in the refrigerated room alone with her.
“Come.” She curled her finger, motioning me forward.
Walking toward her felt most unnatural. Every fiber of my being wanted to run the other way. Steadying my nerves, I held my ground, moving deliberately toward my ultimate demise. How could anyone survive? This woman… this monster, possessed the power to extinguish the breath of existence with the slightest motion of her hand. And a crazy prophecy affirmed I was the only one who could defeat her. Why wouldn’t she want me dead? With one well-timed inhalation she could suck out my soul leaving behind an empty shell. Fear rippled through every muscle with the full realization of what I was walking toward.
I stopped a few feet away from her, and she closed the distance between us, placing her hand gently on my arm. A layer of frost crept over my skin, and I bit my lip to keep from pulling away.
We entered the adjacent room, sparsely furnished with no more than a fireplace, two ice chairs, and a desk strewn with maps and ancient books. She twirled to face me, causing a mini tornado of flurries.
“I knew you’d be back, darling. I see the way you look at the Princeling… with over eager, puppy dog eyes.”
I bristled.
“And yet, try as he might, he simply cannot return your affection. Can he?” She didn’t wait for my reply. “Why do you think it is that a prince of such suffocating charm and good looks should be unable to fully commit?” She paused, and when I didn’t respond she continued. “Do yourself a favor, love, let it go.” Her smile held all of the warmth of a polar ice cap. “His soul belongs to another. I have seen to it, so you can risk your pretty little neck for him all you want. He will never be yours. He can never be yours. Will you be a good little girl and let him go?”
I shook my head slowly, and stared at my hands, knowing the impossibility of what she was asking. I could never let him go. She glided closer to me and placed her freezing hand over my chest. I staggered backward from the painful cold, but my feet were frozen in place. A thin layer of ice crawled over my feet, holding me in place. I stared with widening eyes, trying in vain to break free.
Octãhvia gave a soft snicker. Ice stretched up from the floor, climbing up my legs, encasing them in a frosty pillar, coating me in a body cast of ice.
“That heart, your heart… the beautiful heart and soul of a Faerie that I so desperately want, will be utterly useless to me if it’s broken. So do us both a favor, darling, let him go.”
She turned away as the ice crept upwards strangling me with cold.