Enchanted Frost (Frost Series #8) (A YA Romantic Fantasy Adventure) (5 page)

          I
shook my head.

          “It’s
an old Wolf story, one I’ve never told you before. Back in the old days – long
ago, before Summer and Winter were even divided – there was a fairy called
Connell. And he was of the family that eventually came to rule the Summer
Court, although there was no division at that time. And he was forced to fight
a great, pitched battle against a dread nemesis...a battle he was sure that he
would never win.”

          I
smiled bitterly. “It seems that we get quite a lot of those in Feyland,” I
said, unable to hold back a dark laugh.

          “Well,
he knew that it was now or never – that he had to defeat this enemy, or else
the extinction of his entire race, all his people, was at stake. And so he did
the unthinkable. He consulted a witch, Panthea, one of the most powerful and
most dangerous witches in Feyland....”

          “I’m
confused,” I admitted. “What does all this have to do with us?”

          “Listen!”
Logan’s voice was hoarse. “He promised the witch he’d do anything, whatever it
took, in order to be able to defeat the enemy. And the witch told him she’d
give him the power to do it: but at a price. He had to sacrifice his magic. And
so she transformed him into a Wolf...”

          I
gasped as I began to understand the story.

          “Then
you mean...”

          “Connell,”
he said. “The Red Wolf. The first Wolf. My ancestor. He was once a Fey – we
were once Fey like you, only we had our magic stolen from us by this
enchantress. But it’s come
back
, Breena.”

          “Come
back?” This was ridiculous! I’d never heard of Wolves having magic before – and
here was Logan, standing before me, telling me that the Wolves now had magic
just like ours.

          “Yes,
come back,” said Logan. He held out his hand. “Look!”

          I
gasped at what I saw. Small sparks – green, the color of emeralds – were appearing
around his fingers, their glow warm and oddly, alluringly, beautiful.

          “But
how?” I turned to him. “This witch...”

          “Oh,
Breena.” Logan looked pained. “There’s so much I want to tell you – so much
that I know I will have to explain to you with time. But right now I need you
to trust me. There’s something going on, something that I’m involved with. I’m
responsible for bringing the magic back to the Wolves. I know that now – it’s
my destiny. It was always my destiny.”

          “Then...”

          “I
have magic,” Logan said. “Just like you. Maybe not just...” He blushed. “I’m
still learning how to use it. But I’ve been able to levitate things, alone in
my room. I don’t dare use it for fighting – I don’t want to expose the secret
of the Wolf magic to anyone I’m not 100% sure I can trust. These are dangerous
times, after all.” He furrowed his brow. “For the Wolves as much for anyone
else,” he added darkly.

          “But
what do you mean?” I asked him. “After all, isn’t this a good thing for the
Wolves? You should be celebrating.”

          “I’m
not,” said Logan. His face had grown hard and stern. “We Wolves aren’t used to
this power. Unlike you Fey we have no laws about it, no means of controlling
it. We aren’t taught from birth how to harness our skills. Instead, we’re
getting untold power head-on. And things are happening. Things that only magic
can explain. Earthquakes, for example. Volcanos erupting. People who don’t even
know each other getting into brawls that leave only scorched earth behind. I’m
worried for my people, Breena. I’m worried that this magic is coming on too
strong...”

          “What’s
it like?” I couldn’t resist asking. “Having magic, I mean. After all this
time?”

          Logan
leaned back, inhaling deeply. “Amazing...” he said. “Heady, overwhelming,
wonderful. Sweet – bitter – dangerous. Like strong wine. You feel this amazing
rush.
..”

          I
smiled. I remembered that rush all too well. That excitement I’d experienced
when I’d learned to  use my magic properly for the first time. When I was with
Kian...

         
O,
Kian...
Even now he came unbidden into my thoughts, his beautiful form
shattering my thoughts like a hammer. The smile vanished from my face; my
cheeks turned pale as I reeled from the suddenness of the pain.

          “What
is it?” Logan took a step towards me. “Are you all right, Breena?”

          “I’m
okay,” I said, looking away. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. I’d hurt him
enough – why stoke the fires of his jealousy even more than I already had. “I’m
just having a bit of a headache.”

          “That’s
why I came to see you, Breena,” Logan returned to the matter at hand. “Partly
to help you – of course. As a friend. As somebody who loves  you – and always
will. But also as one of your loyal subjects, who needs your help, and who
needs it badly. I need your guidance to help keep the Wolves in check – guidance
from those with more experience than I have when it comes to harnessing the
powers magic can bring.”

          “I’m
not the person you should be asking,” I said. “I know my own magic well – but I
don’t have nearly the experience that someone like Rose or Alistair does.”

          I
saw Logan blush at the mention of Rose’s name, and felt a combination of
gladness and bitterness at that fact. I knew Logan had been dreaming about Rose
for a while – that she had caught his eye, as much as he hated to admit it. He,
certainly, had caught hers. She was head over heels for Logan. And poor
Alistair, Rose’s first love, didn’t have a clue.

         
What
a mess,
I couldn’t help but thinking. Alistair loves Rose who loves Logan
who loves me who loves Kian.
And none of us are any happier for it.
Perhaps
the Fey wisdom was right, I thought, trying to hold myself together, to stop
the heartbreak from spilling out. Perhaps being in love wasn’t all it was
cracked up to be. Sure, there were exceptions. My mother and father, for
example. They seemed awfully happy. But they’d gone through a lot of pain and
suffering – both their own, and that they had caused in others – to get where
they were today. An adulterous liaison that nearly destroyed a nation – was
this the best model of a happy relationship I had? Or Shasta and Rodney – a love
that had resulted in Shasta’s summoning the Dark Hordes?

          “We
have to talk to the others,” said Logan. “You’re right.”

          I
took his hand. “Alistair and Rose are both here in the Summer Palace,” I said.
“They’ve been working on a solution to the harvest problem. They’re getting
close – awfully close. With any luck, you won’t have to go on so many trips to
the Land Beyond the Crystal River.”

          “That’s
a mixed blessing,” said Logan, grinning. “I was getting awfully used to
spending my afternoons eating a cheeseburger and surfing the Internet. I even
got to catch up on TV!”

          “TV…”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Funny, isn’t it? Most of the people we know here
have no idea what a TV is. And I guess it’s pretty frivolous, us missing stuff
like that when there’s a war on – or was.”

          “I
don’t think it’s that frivolous,” said Logan, turning to me. “It’s the life we
knew, after all. Don’t you miss it?”

          “I…I
don’t know,” I admitted. “Sometimes. I don’t miss my family, at least. Now that
my mother and father are both in Feyland, I don’t have to miss them. But I do
miss the little things. Microwaves. Heating. How
easy
everything was,
compared to here. I mean, I remember when I was worried about Clariss making
fun of me at lunchtime, not about her turning into a giant serpent and eating
people.”

          “What
do you think the people at our high school would have said – if they knew she
could do that?”

          I
laughed. “I’m not sure I would have been that surprised,” I said. “She always
was a slippery one.”

          “Do
you miss
them
?”

          “Sometimes.
I miss things not mattering so much. I can’t make mistakes anymore. Not like in
the old days. If I screw up, people die. Or my heart gets broken forever…” I
swallowed. “I miss being able to be a kid.”

          “I
guess we’ll never be kids again, huh?” Logan looked away.

          “Guess
so.”

          We
found Alistair and Rose in the laboratory, hunched over potions. Their
foreheads were close – they were almost touching. When they noticed our
presence, Alistair jumped back, an embarrassed blush spreading over his face.

          “Oh,
uh, Queen Breena!” Alistair stuttered. “Sir Logan! We were just…”

          Rose
too had turned crimson, staring at Logan with such palpable longing that I felt
uncomfortable. Alistair, however, seemed completely oblivious to the effect
Logan had on his love.

          “We
were just finishing the potion,” explained Rose matter-of-a-factly.

          “I’ve
got something to tell you,” I said. “Or Logan does, actually. Something you
should hear.”

          When
Logan had finished his story and recounted the tale of the Red Wolf to us,
Alistair and Rose sat stock-still, in shock.

          “So…you’re
a Fey, now.” Rose looked fascinated. “With magic and everything?”

          “I
am,” said Logan. “Or at least – I seem to be.” A few more green sparks appeared
at his fingertips. “But it remains to be seen what that means for me – or for
Feyland.”

          Rose
smiled shyly. “We’ve got our work cut out for us then,” she said. “Trying to
figure out what to do with all these Wolves.”

          Logan
turned grave. “They are my people,” he said. “I want to protect them. To help
them learn to use their gifts wisely.”

          “Well,
nothing’s ever boring in Feyland, is it?” Alistair laughed.

          It
was good to laugh again, to spend time with friends. It helped me forget about
the pain that had incapacitated me for so long.

          But
of course, I knew, I could never really forget. But for now, I supposed, this
was close enough.

          “There
is much to do,” I said. “So let’s get started.”

Chapter 6

Breena

T
hat night I
slept fitfully. My sweat stained the bedclothes. I rolled around, tangling
myself in the silk sheets. I screamed – my voice echoing off the ceiling. I
screamed and screamed and screamed again, writhing, as the images seeped into
my brain. It wasn't the normal dream. The normal dream – the normal pain – was
one I had almost gotten used to by now. I would dream of Kian as he was on his
quest in the distant lands where I could not reach him, dream of his beautiful
face clouded by anger, the love I recognized in his eyes gone forever. I would
dream that I rushed to his side, my face streaked with tears, begging him to
forgive me, to take me back, to allow us to be again what we once were.

          “We
will never be again what we once were,” he said, and turned away.

          The
pain set me on fire. The agony made me convulse. I could have stood fury in his
eyes; I could have stood hatred. But what I couldn't stand was the calm,
collected, manner in which he spoke those words. A manner that showed no love,
no regret. It was polite, even disinterested. And that was what filled me with
such loneliness – the knowledge that Kian, whom I loved, whom I cared for, who
meant everything to me, no longer
cared
enough even to hate me.

          “Please,
Kian, give me another chance.” The words I repeated night after night, in
exceeding pain, begging his dream-self to take me back. “I don't love Logan the
way I love you – I never did. I cared for him as a friend, nothing more. I let
my fear of commitment get in the way of what I needed, deep down – committing
to you. One hundred percent. Totally, completely. We belong to one another, you
and I, Kian. We belong to each other, body and soul. We can't just forget that,
ignore that. We can't just pretend that isn't true. I miss you so much...”

          “I'm
sorry, Breena.” His kindness was worse than his cruelty. “I'm so sorry I cannot
give you what you need. But I'm afraid I just don't love you any longer. I
loved you so hard, and so long, for such a long time. I gave you chances after
chances, tried to ignore your betrayal, tried to ignore my own heartbreak. And
one day, I suppose, I just got pushed too far. One day I realized that I was
done with this pain, with this longing. That I was no longer interested in
spending my time chasing after a woman who couldn't even give me the dignity of
telling
me she didn't love me the way I loved her. A woman who promised
me eternity and couldn't even give me today.”

          Normally,
that was the dream that woke me up, that made me sit up straight, screaming,
covered in sweat. The first night after Logan's return, he'd rushed to my bedside
in terror upon hearing that scream, convinced I was being murdered.