THE ELEVENTH

 

My jaw was sore from clenching.

“Calm your scotchers,” Eliot said when the grunting polar bears and grinding of the sleigh-runners made a commotion. “You would have been bear meat without me. When we get to the castle, just do as I say, for frostbit sake.”

Zane tilted his head toward Eliot. “You and I have matters to settle first, Gray.”

“You don’t look to be in a position to settle matters at present, Cohen.”

“How is your friend these days, Eliot?” I cut in to ask. “What was his name again? Nightflesh?”

Eliot’s shoulders tightened, but he didn’t glance back at where we were huddled on the sleigh. “You’re meddling with a thing you don’t understand, Helen,” he warned. “If you and your beloved sister want to get out of this muddle, you’re going to have to trust me.”

I shut my mouth as we pulled up to a magnificent mansion of spruce-scented timber beams. Twinkling lights and silver bells wrapped carved steeples, cutting the sky with their stature. Everything was sprinkled with snow and steam that curled out the archways.

I tried counting the chimney trunks amidst the winding tower of wood rails and curved walkways in the forest heights.

“Have you ever seen this castle before?” I asked Zane, debating how I’d describe it to him.

“A time or three,” he said. “My first Carrier, Thomas, was from a Green village.”

“Harmony was too. A place called Belbun.” Eliot glanced off, and a strange current moved between the three of us.

The Queen of the Pines glided past, crunching ice-crowns beneath her boots. She stole a look at us, gray eyes fastening to me.

Eliot took my hand. “This is my wife. And the folk with her is her guardsman, though he befell bad tidings on their trek and needs a guide to his sleeping quarters.”

I tugged my hand away.

“Your beloved wife seems rather common,” the queen said, and Eliot’s throat bobbed when he swallowed.

“That’s a merry story…” He tugged at his curls, turning to Zane. “Guardsman, you’ll sleep in the village with the other guards of the East,” he instructed.

Zane released a quiet laugh as the wide castle doors were hauled open with ropes. The queen cast us a look, then left with her Axemen a step behind.

“Gray,” Zane said. “I’d really love to destroy you right now.”

“Off to the village, guardsman.” Eliot had the audacity to flick his hand. “If you want to frostbit live, that is.” He reached for me like I was some puppy he expected would follow, and I smacked his hand away.

Eliot’s large lips pinched together, but he turned and marched into Timber Castle without another word.

“Just do what he says,” I muttered, taking Zane’s arm to lead him inside. “We don’t have a choice if we want to find out what happened to Kaley.”

“He’s going to regret this.” Zane blinked his pale eyes.

A feast of woodwork lay inside the castle; carved pillars and a glorious spiral staircase at the back of the foyer. Cherry and maple tones mixed with birch and oak in the details. Flames roared from oval fireplaces in the walls where men hauled in logs, and the foyer smelled of freshly crisping woodfires, sweet apple cider, and the nutty aroma of gingerbread.

I glared at Eliot’s back as he strutted with all the authority of a fake noble. Then I looked at Zane, holding his fingers ahead like a shield, and during the walk through the main space, I took a deep breath to remind myself that even though Winter had briefly granted me a bad Patrolman once, it had also granted me a good one too.

I kept my eyes on Zane at the foot of the stairs as the Axemen led Eliot and I up the grand, creaking, spiral staircase to our room. Zane stared straight ahead, jaw solid. He waited there until I was halfway up the masterful twists of steps.

The rail was wrapped with emerald taffeta and studded with rustic pinecones. Names were carved into the wood; some ancient-looking and some crisp. It gave off the feel of quaint magic and the scent of pine needles. I halted when I saw a freshly carved name:

 

Edward Green

Prince of the Pines: XVI

 

“Does that name mean something to you?” Eliot asked over my shoulder. I spun away from the Green Prince’s name. Without a word, I marched past Eliot the rest of the way up the stairs.

The moment the door to our room closed, I turned to face him. “I won’t listen to you, Eliot.”

Circular windows lined the walls, ovals of early moonlight puddling across the floor. Bushy pine features filled the sills with an ivory candle in each bunch. I went to stand by one and plucked the needles.

Eliot was quiet. His curls had been knocked off balance by the sleigh ride, but his eyes were as vivid as ever, even as the colour flickered.

“Helen,” his throat bobbed, “I need to make things right between us.”

I studied his hunched shoulders and tilted brows, but his terrible last words to me in the Red Kingdom palace dungeon rang in my ears:

They turned me.

“You were going to let me marry Quinten, that monster. I’ll never trust anything you say while you’re pledged to Nightflesh,” I said.

He frowned but didn’t deny it. “I’ve pledged myself to you too.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. I didn’t know things would be like this. I’m still your Patrolman—”

“Just don’t.” I rolled my eyes.

“—and I know that because my heart turned to a frostbitten ice-block when the intersects closed and you weren’t in Winter anymore.”

“What a poetic sonnet.” I shook my head and began to pace, but I stole a peek at him when he shut his eyes.

“I need you to forgive me,” he whispered.

“You’re going to have to be more specific. Exactly which thing are you asking for forgiveness for, Eliot? Lying to me since the day you showed up at my school? Trying to get Zane killed by a snowsquatch? Luring me to the Red Kingdom where Quinten was waiting? Letting me get thrown into that horrible forest?” My voice shrieked by the end. “You were my friend! I don’t have a lot of those, but I actually cared about you. And it was all fake.”

“It wasn’t all fake.” His eyes flew open. “Ragnashuck, Helen. You were my friend too.”

I folded my arms and dropped my gaze to the hardwood floor. After a pause, I dragged my feet to stand before the ex-Patrolman in the silver jacket. “Are you here to trick me again?” I asked.

His brows tilted in. “No! How can you ask me that after what I just said?”

It was odd, and possibly a smidgen frustrating, but I had to admit he seemed sincere.

“Where’s my sister?” I asked.

Eliot cleared his throat and released a heavy breath. “They’ll be at the Gingerbread Feast at midnight. They’re not prisoners, so try to find a pinch of cheer in that, for frostbit sake.”

“They?”

“Leutenski is with her.”

Thank goodness.

“The queen knows I’m a Trite,” I said. “This cute little act of yours isn’t going to last.”

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks you are. The Evergreen Host is crumbling beneath the Ruby Legion’s might at the border. She’s desperate for help, and the Three Kings of the East have armies. She wouldn’t risk offending an emissary, whether she’s certain of me or not.”

“How convenient.”

“Helen…” Eliot stepped in, throat bobbing again. “I tried to get back to you. Even before the intersects were open. I couldn’t stand the way I felt…”

My bitter thoughts slowed. “What do you mean you tried to get back to me…?”

“In the dead world.” He hugged his arms to himself. “I was trying to find a way across. I know it was a spinbug idea, but I had to see you.”

“Did you?” I stepped in too, my hands falling at my sides. “Did you find a way to get through? Did you learn how to make a door?”

Eliot blinked. “I found a thing or three of it. It’s not a merry quest, but by that reaction I can’t imagine you would care about the scotchy sacrifices it would take.”

I clamped my mouth shut.

Eliot took me in with a long look before sighing and dragging in another step. There was barely an inch left between us and I watched his bright blue gaze sink to gray. “If you take me back, I’ll tell you all I know of it. We can figure out how to make one together.”

I glanced off, finger tapping against my leg.

“How do I prove to you that I’m on your side?” He dragged a hand down his cheek, leaving a red mark. “Tell me what to do, Helen, and I’ll do it. Ragnashuck, do you want me to hand myself over to the Patrol to face their judgement? Do you want me to be your spy these next quarters and bring you details of Nightflesh’s plans?” He looked back and forth between my widening eyes. “I’ll do it,” he promised.

I blinked in surprise. “There isn’t anything I want you to do…” I caught myself as a thought filled my head; one I shouldn’t have even considered. But once it was there, I couldn’t get it back out again.

“You thought of something, didn’t you? Tell me.” Eliot stepped in, and I realized his jacket was missing a pearl button. He still smelled of lilacs and roses, like the scent was branded into his skin.

“Eliot Gray,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t get a chance like this again. I looked into his sapphire eyes. “I want you to steal the Queen of the Pines’s crown.”

 

 

Hot cider was passed to us as we descended the spiral staircase. The main level of Timber Castle buzzed as elves prepared for the Gingerbread Feast. The miniature houses they carried made me look twice; spiral candies, deep chocolate squares, sugar-coated caramels, and peppermint flakes sprinkled the cookie-sheet artwork.

I held Eliot’s arm as we came out to the snowy landscape of glowing lanterns illuminating the branches above. A massive table stretched deep into the woods, hosting log pedestals for the gingerbread houses to sit upon, along with platters of chocolate bark and assorted candies.

Eliot was stone-faced the whole walk, and I hoped he would keep it together long enough for me to find Kaley. I sipped my cider, but my eyes never stopped moving, searching faces.

The Queen of the Pines appeared to the thundering roar of a dozen drums, and I felt Eliot flinch. His eyes fastened themselves to her as she draped herself across her wooden throne. The ice sprouts of her crown glistened beneath the lanterns, and I wavered when the steeples of candles burst to life with flames.

“Isn’t she worried about her hair catching fire?”

“Not likely. The crown is magic. I imagine that’s why you want it?” Eliot’s gaze flickered to me.

I didn’t grace his question with an answer.

The scent of pumpkin pudding washed over us as we sat, and I peered down the table at the city of geometric gingerbread houses, the piles of sugar-coated candy, and the bowls of multicoloured gourds. Bronze cutlery glimmered beneath the fairy lights; seven different pieces at each place setting. I picked up a fork and studied the antique spirals in the metal. For people who would rather smash drums than play any song with a melody, it was surprising they chose to work such artistry into their cutlery.

“Helen.” The sound of my sister’s voice slammed into my chest and my gaze fired up from the fork.

Kaley was in a suit of wooden armour.

“Thank goodness!” I wanted to leap over the table.

“Actually, you can thank me.” Lucas was smiling beside her, dressed the same and looking another half-inch taller than the last time I’d seen him, with a full head of wispy hair.

Zane approached the table too, Lucas’s hand guiding him by the shoulder. They were on the opposite side of the table as Eliot and I. Lucas glanced at the empty chair beside me and muttered something into Zane’s ear.

“Sit down,” Eliot instructed them. Most of the feast’s guests had already taken their seats.

“I’ll walk around,” Zane decided, turning to feel his way down the table, knocking a guest’s cider into the snow. Heads down the line turned in our direction; people leaned to see what the commotion was.

“Just sit down, Cohen,” Eliot snapped. Zane’s tight-lipped face flickered back in our general direction.

“It’s fine, Zane,” I said to spare him having to poke his way around the whole gathering just to sit with me. Zane reluctantly hobbled back and lowered into a seat across from us.

I thought that was the end of it, but something brushed my leg and I shrieked, springing to my feet and nearly careening backward. Lucas crawled out from underneath the dining table and climbed to his feet on our side, patting forest brush off his knees.

“Ragnashuck, Leutenski.” Eliot placed a hand over his pink face while guests murmured and pointed.

Lucas grinned and dragged the spare seat a little closer to mine. “Nice and cozy,” he said. I shrank back into my own chair beneath the watchful eyes of the Greens. Lucas flung his arm across my backrest.

“Is everyone merry now?” Eliot glared at where Lucas’s fingers brushed his shoulder.

From across the table, Zane smirked with satisfaction. “Quite merry,” he said.

My sister cast me a small smile. “Look.” She raised an arm to show me the dark-wood pauldron at her shoulder. “I feel like I could take on a snowsquatch in this.”

“You look awesome.” I leaned in to ask her more questions—

“They took our weapons,” Zane said as he carefully accepted a glass of cider from an elf. I closed my mouth, shooting Zane a look he couldn’t see. Zane took a sip of the cider and made a sour face. “Needs more sugar.”

“I like it.” Lucas reached for a glass from a passing tray. “It reminds me of the apple juice we’d make at the garden house with Mikal. Cold and crisp.”

Beside me, Eliot shifted in his chair.

“No, it’s nothing like it. I had Mikal’s apple juice a time or three and it tasted a good measure sweeter than this rubbish.” Zane turned his cup upside down and dumped the rest of his cider into the snow. I flinched as guests down the table scowled.

“That’s because we added blue wasp nectar, you syrup-sipper.” Lucas tilted back his glass and swallowed the rest in one long, dramatic gulp. Eliot gripped his hands until his knuckles turned white. “And as for the matter of weapons,” Lucas slammed his glass down on the tabletop and released a horrid belch, “perhaps we ought to take a lesson from the dwarves.” He lifted a bronze fork and turned it in the moonlight.

“Frostbitten thief,” Eliot muttered through his hands which he’d placed back over his face.

“That I am,” Lucas agreed, and slid the fork into his pocket along with three knives, two spoons, a triangle server utensil, and an oversized meat fork.

“You look ridiculous,” Eliot grumbled.

Lucas patted the misshapen angles of his coat. “You won’t be nattering about it when I save your scotcher with a spoon.”

I laughed. “Well, if I need a fork for something, I know who to…” A chilly wind swept through the forest, leaving a frosty taste on my tongue. It brushed along my neck and shoulders, like spiders rushing across my skin.

I caught the Queen of the Pines watching me. I thought she was somehow summoning me with an icy gale. But looking into her eyes, I realized it wasn’t her trying to get my attention.

I searched the table as the air dipped colder. My Revelation Orb became a hot flame beneath my clothes. Frost formed on my fingertips, and I pulled my hands into fists. The table chatter continued, but a blanket of darkness swept in like a wave, suffocating the lanterns and fairy lights, blotting out the candles.

Somewhere in the black haze I could hear Kaley asking me if I was alright. The place where she’d been at the table had turned into a hollow black hole, and I gasped, fumbling for a butter knife and tripping out of my seat.

I could see the edges of dim trees and elves serving food. Laughter from the feast echoed, the animals in the forest growled and sang. But everyone I’d been with had become gaps of darkness.

“Don’t you see, Trite? Don’t you see that I can take them from you?”

I felt a scream pulsing in my throat; that beastly strand of coaxing echoed with the cries of fallen saints.

I spun, eyes darting from shadow to shadow in the forest, smoke and torment burning my lungs. The wind picked up, and I was sure I would get sucked away into the abyss the sky had become.

“Where are you?” I called to Nightflesh.

“Helen! You have to fight it!” Kaley’s voice was beside me now. Everything spun and I swatted through the blackness to find her. Her hand grabbed my shoulder and instantly, my legs lost their feeling.

I was sprawled on the ground in a fitful sleep a second later. The last thing I heard was Eliot shouting, “My wife is ill! I demand assistance!”