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The Winter Queen refused to show any emotion. “Put the dagger down, Shasta,” she said. Her face was still, as expressionless as the surface of a pond.
“I mean it, Mother!” muttered Shasta, through clenched teeth. Rodney and Kian had sprung up, standing – tensed with terror – beside her.
“Shasta!” Rodney cried, but she would no longer look at him.
I took a deep breath. My mother had always told me that the most important thing to do with a hysterical person was to keep them calm and comfortable. I took a small step forward. “It's okay,” I said. “It's okay, Shasta. Don't panic. We'll figure this out – I promise. Put down the dagger. I know how you feel.”
“You!” Shasta brandished the knife at me. “Have no idea how I feel!” Tears were dropping onto the floor-tiles, now, as she placed the knife once more against her throat. “Take one step closer and I'll do it, I swear!” She pressed deeper, and a single droplet of silver blood appeared at her neck. I stopped short, taking a look around me. Rodney and Kian were both frozen in horror; the Queen stood immobile, impassive. She hadn't even flinched. Was that the sort of mother that Shasta had grown up with?”
“If this is your way of getting what you want,” the Queen said, “like a spoiled human child throwing a tantrum, then you are mistaken. I certainly don't wish to indulge you.”
Desperation flitted across Shasta's eyes. She was crazed, like a wild animal that had been caged, beating itself against the walls of her prison, trying to find a way out, some way out. “Rodney!” she choked out.
“Shasta!”
“If I can't be with you...then I don' want to go on...”
“No!” As she had raised the dagger, ready to plunge it into her own breast, Rodney had rushed towards her, covering her body with his, throwing himself between her and the fatal blow.
“Rodney!” Shasta screamed. “Rodney!”
She stepped away, her hands silver-stained and clapped over her mouth. Rodney lay at her feet, the knife deep within his chest.
“I didn't mean...I didn't mean to...” Shasta crumpled to the floor, her screams echoing in all our ears.
“Shasta...” Blood was pouring from Rodney's wound, trickling from his mouth. His eyes were glazing over, disbelief still written plainly across his gaze.
“Hurry!” I shouted, to nobody in particular. “Somebody – get a doctor!”
“The wound is deep” - in a matter of moments the Winter Queen had glided across the room, and she stood now at Rodney's side.
“I didn't mean...” Shasta was choking out words. “Help! Somebody help him!”
“Get a doctor!” I cried.
“There are no doctors, you fool!” Shasta was screaming at me. “Fairies don't have doctors! We heal...we heal ourselves.”
Rodney didn't look like he was about to heal himself anytime soon.
“Then do something!” I couldn't help shouting back. The sounds of Shasta's cries were still ringing in my ears, mingled with Rodney's soft groans and Kian's attempts at binding the wound.
“We can't!” Shasta wailed, clutching Rodney in her arms. “Not when he's so far gone...” She held him even more tightly, covering his face with kisses. “Only you can!”
“Me?” I stopped short. If the powerful Winter Queen herself could only stand there, her face stone-still, then what could I be expected to do?
“This is a life force you are restoring,” said the Queen softly. “It is a very significant matter. But our magic – it is Winter magic. It would have no effect on a Summer Knight such as Rodney. We are bound by our old ways, you see.” I thought I could detect a grim smile at the edge of her mouth. “We have no choice but to cede you the floor.”
“I don't know how to heal!” I shouted back, but even as I spoke I felt that this wasn't true. I felt a golden warmth deep within myself, close to my heart, a warmth I had not felt before, but which felt nevertheless familiar, right. It was the power of the Summer Queen, my birthright, my heritage – the power to heal the fairies of my land.
“Hurry!” Shasta said again, her knuckles white with tension as she clutched at Rodney's hand. Silver was pouring from the wound, pouring out of Kian's shirt, which he had torn and tied to stop the damage, trickling from Rodney’s mouth. Rodney looked up at me, his fading eyes full of hope. I was his last chance – Shasta's last chance. I had the opportunity to save him.
I swallowed hard. This wouldn't be easy. I'd never used magic to heal anyone before; I had no idea if it would work or not.
“You can do it, Breena,” said Kian softly. “Concentrate. Summon the healing magic.”
I saw them all staring at me – all their eyes on me – and I looked down. They all expected me to be able to fix this situation, to make it all better, to save Rodney's life and Shasta's sanity. And what if I couldn't do it?
No, I wouldn't think of that yet. I couldn't imagine letting them down.
I took a step forward, placing my palms outwards. “Like this?” I said.
The Winter Queen nodded. “Lay your hands on him.”
I kneeled at Rodney's side. “It's going to be okay, Rodney,” I said, unconsciously of myself. “You're going to be fine. I promise.”
The promise of a Summer Queen who didn't even know how to work her magic!
Slowly I pressed my palms to Rodney's wound, seeing my hands grow wet and sticky with silver blood. Please, I whispered, to the golden force I could feel throbbing inside me. Please work. The warmth grew larger within my chest; my lungs expanded with a honeyed heat. I tried to focus on things of summer – warm, fresh bread baking, memories of California, where my mother and I had gone when I was a child, the beach with piping hot sand and cool California breezes, the taste of salt on my tongue.
The force grew larger, and then it vanished.
No! I closed my eyes and tried again, concentrating once more. My eyelids grew hot; my body grew hot; I thought once more of fertility and growth, of life, of my people – the ones I had sworn to save when I took the crown. I thought of the orange gardens at the Summer Court, the smell of sweet bergamot, the miles and miles of wheat fields in my country, which fed my people and kept them strong, the fruit trees ripe and dripping with nectar, the animals – babies at first, then strong and proud adults – growing and thriving in my land, the endless dynamic force of consumption and rebirth – the grain giving its life for the deer, the deer giving its life for the hunter, at once destroyed and eternal, as the life force in the tiniest seed expanded and grew, until my people were fed, my people were well, and all of life thrived in my beloved kingdom.
My eyes shot open, and I could see golden sparks emanating from my fingers. A mist of healing soft amber flames shot out of my fingers in swirls.
Here goes, I thought, and pressed the fingers to Rodney's wound.
He screamed, and for a moment I thought something had gone wrong; for a moment my heart leaped with fear. But then I saw the jagged edges of his wound moving, flowing into each other, the skin growing over the damage like the sea covering the sandy shore. The silver was vanishing, turning into a healthy gold, a gold that merged into his skin – as tanned and strong as he had ever been. I could feel the life force within me emanate from my fingertips, my vibrancy, my vitality, all sapping even as the connection with Rodney grew stronger, as his strength gave color to his cheeks and life to his eyes. He wasn't just alive, he was thriving, consuming the life force itself, the ancient magic that somehow I possessed and had yet given away.
With a final, overwhelming, push I was thrust away from Rodney, falling into a series of bruises on the cold metal floor. Rodney was sitting up, looking at himself with wonder, with awe. He looked not only as if he had been healed, but also as if he had been revitalized– younger, more handsome, stronger than before. His eyes were brighter, his hair fuller and shining with sparkling copper lights.
I, for my part, could not move. Whatever life force had been given to Rodney had come directly out of me. My skin felt cold and clammy; my hair had gone limp; I could feel my cheeks go pasty and pale. I barely had the strength to sit up.
“Breena.” Kian rushed to my side, propping me up as Shasta began kissing Rodney's hands.
“I'm sorry,” she was whispering. “Rodney, I'm so, so sorry.
“Shh,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “We'll talk about it later.”
Even the Queen, standing in the center of the room, seemed relieved, although she would not show it. But I could see the relief in her eyes, the happiness she felt at her daughter's own joy – a joy that had seemed impossible only seconds before.
“Thank you, Breena,” she said, and in her voice there was pride as well as gratitude. “You have done my daughter a service.” She immediately resumed her former posture. “I am sorry to have put you in such a position – and to have embarrassed you in such a way.”
“No embarrassment at all,” I said. I would have curtseyed, but my legs were still feeling too week. “For nothing happened. Nothing at all! At least – nothing anyone would ever hear about from me.”
“Your discretion is valiant, Summer Queen,” said the Winter Queen. “It will serve us well in the peace talks.”
My heart leaped a little. Peace talks. Despite the intensity of what just happened with Shasta and Rodney, I was grateful the result had sealed the Winter Queen’s promise about the peace treaty. “That's my only goal,” I said, turning one last, longing look at Kian. “That's all I care about.” Suddenly, I felt even weaker and more exhausted than before. Pain overwhelmed me, and I couldn't help doubling over, weighed down by my grief. If giving up Kian would bring peace, then this pain would be worth it.
“Are you all right?” The Queen shot me a look of concern.
“Fine!” I lied, although tears had begun misting my eyes. “It's just the spell – that's all! Just the spell.” I looked down at the floor, afraid that they could all see right through me, knowing my pain, my love, my desire.
“Then we're sorted,” said the Queen. “On the morrow, you will return home to your kingdom, and Kian will stay in his, and together we will stride forward with the peace process.”
“As you wish, your Majesty,” I whispered. But my heart felt as cold as the parapets of the Winter Palace.