Yasmine Galenorn - Crimson Veil

Cicely, there is danger close by. A looming shadow. I believe Myst is on the rise again. Ulean swept past me, swirling snow in the gust of her wake.

It was only a matter of time. We knew she was regrouping. I’ve been hoping she would hold off until Rhiannon and I are more settled in our positions—that it would take her more time to re-strengthen her forces, but I don’t think we have that leeway. I’m afraid we’ll be fighting sooner than we’d hoped.

Shivering, I pulled my cloak tightly around my shoulders. The owl feathers used to make the cape had been gathered one by one, gifted by my Uwilahsidhe brethren. I was half magic-born, and half Uwilahsidhe—a branch of the Cambyra Sidhe. We were the owl shifters. I’d only discovered the latter half of my heritage less than six weeks before. The cloak had been a wedding gift from my people.

We will do as we must. If we fail, Myst will extend her reach. She will take control of this realm and drive the eternal winter into the world to blanket the land with ice and snow. She will loose the ravenous appetites of her Shadow Hunters on anyone who stands in her way. We cannot let her win, Cicely, or everyone—the magic-born and the Weres and the yummanii—they will all be so much prey for the Vampiric Fae. Even the true vampires, Lannan and Regina’s people, will fall to her fury if we don’t stop her.

I reached out, trying to sense the danger she’d mentioned. It was like stretching a new muscle—one that wasn’t in body but within my spirit. Focusing, I sent out feelers, probing the landscape, creeping like vines through the slipstream. There , I could sense an arctic fox, and over there —the hare it was stalking. A ways beyond and I felt the chill of a group of Ice Elementals passing through, their focus so distant and alien that I couldn’t have deciphered their intent if anybody paid me to. But the creatures were my subjects, they were aligned to me, and so I simply touched their energy before I passed on.

Beyond the Ice Elementals, I came to a treeline, and the dark sentinels of the woodlands whispered rumors in my ears. There were creatures in the woods—creatures who did not belong here, even though they, too, were born of winter and hearkened to the dark months of the year.

I softly began to move forward, my attention drawn by a familiar presence in a stand of snow-covered bushes nearby. As I approached the Wilding Fae—I knew who she was—Check and Fearless flanked my sides.

Ulean laughed. Your friend. You have won the hearts of the Wilding Fae, and that is a double-edged blessing.

The Wilding Fae were dangerous, a breed unto themselves. Ancient even by the standards of the Cambyra Fae, they were feral, belonging to themselves, aligned with no one. But they had chosen to live in the realm of Snow and Ice when I took the throne. Bargaining with them could prove dangerous, but once they’d accepted my rule, they knew better than to try to trip me up with their deals. A good thing, too, considering my lack of bargaining skills.

I paused by the juniper bush. As I stood there, waiting, a figure stepped out from behind the laden branches. She was dressed in a ragtag patchwork of a dress that swept the ground. Her hair was matted into clumps, draping to cover her shoulders. A withered roadwork of lines crossed and crisscrossed her face. Gaunt, her limbs were long and lean, her fingers jointed and gnarled with what one might think of as age. But to be honest, I had no clue of her age. The Snow Hag might be old as the world for all I knew.

She flashed me a cunning snaggletooth smile—one of her teeth curving up from her upper jaw to rest against her bottom lip. She did not kneel, but neither did I expect her to. The Wilding Fae, while they might now live in my realm, were still to be feared and respected.

“A queen might be listening for danger but looking in the wrong direction.” She cocked her head.

I stared at her. Apparently we were dispensing with the niceties today. Usually there was a set format—a pattern with the Wilding Fae, that held sway even when discussing nearby dangers.

“It would be helpful if a certain Snow Hag could guide a Queen—who is, in fact, seeking the source of danger on the wind.”

I didn’t have the full rhythm down, but Chatter—my cousin’s husband and the new King of Summer—had been drilling us. He was adept at bargaining with the Wilding Fae, and right now, I wished he could be here to help me. But I had to learn at some point.

“There is a learning curve and a queen might be making good progress, however, she might also be tripping over her words. If a certain Wilding Fae were less scrupulous, there might be trouble brewing, but luck will out. Though, sometimes, luck has nothing to do with it and desire, everything. And there is desire to see the new rule continue.”

She gave me a wide smile and laughed, and once again, I could feel her power, down to my very bones. They were a crafty, cunning lot, the Wilding Fae, and were dangerous enemies to have.

I thought over what she had said and tried to pinpoint my mistake, but right now the thought of danger lurking in my land preoccupied me and I was having a hard time concentrating.

After a moment’s silence, the Snow Hag broke a small branch off the tree. “Looking into the distance often leaves a queen ignoring what is directly below her nose. Danger can be alluring and beautiful, and seemingly, the best of friends. Danger might also throw a cunning glance, speak a misplaced word, and usually, such hints will be visible if one chances to look for them.”

That didn’t sound good. “A spy? You’re saying that I have a spy in my midst?” When she remained silent, I rephrased it as best as I could. “One might think, by your comment, that a queen might have a spy in her court, as eyes and ears of Myst.”

And with that, the Snow Hag cackled. “One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice is growing into her throne and learning to listen and understand the Wilding Fae. One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice is on the right trail.” And with that, she vanished back into the bushes.

Hell. The last thing I needed was one of Myst’s people hiding in my court. And the Snow Hag had said the danger was right under my nose. I glanced back. Check and Fearless were standing back, as they knew to do, and I didn’t think they’d heard me. This information meant I couldn’t trust anyone, and while Check had been nothing but attentive, and Fearless now seemed more than willing to protect me, when I thought about it, I really didn’t know them. I’d have to talk privately with Grieve, my husband, when I returned home.

As I made my way back to the guards, a sudden shift in the wind alerted me as Ulean slipped in.

Cicely, move. Fly. Get out of reach!

Without hesitation—Ulean, I could trust with my life—I closed my eyes and, arms shrinking as they spread into wings, body shifting, I was aloft and on the wing in my barred owl shape. Until recently, I’d had to remove my clothing in order to transform but again, one of the perks of becoming a Fae Queen.

As I spiraled up into the chill evening air, I looked down to see something racing out of a nearby bush—and then, a shimmer and another figure appeared out of thin air. Shadow Hunters! And they had gotten in via some way other than the entrance to the realm. As I watched, Check and Fearless engaged them.

I wanted to be down there, fighting, but I was the queen and I wasn’t allowed to fight my own battles. At least, not unless there was no other option. It felt more and more that my life had been shoved into a box, even as it had broadened out in so many other ways. I chaffed at the restrictions even though I understood the reasoning for them.