Wolf Magic Page 12
It was at the conclusion of one of these expeditions that I was resting for a few nights in the Summer palace in order to regain my strength for the upcoming trip, which would take me to California – we had to vary our destinations to avoid attracting attention or suspicion.
I was about to go to bed when I heard a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called, expecting it to be one of the servants. But instead, in strode the Fairy King, regal and imperious, with his long reddish-brown hair tied back in a ponytail.
“I apologize for dropping in on you like this,” said the King, “but I had to see you alone, without any of the others. And given that you’re always flanked by women at the Great Hall whenever you dine…”
I blushed and murmured something about them just being friendly.
“In any case, Prince, I have something to show you. Come with me.”
I couldn’t refuse him. I followed him down one corridor and up another, into rooms that were hidden behind other rooms, wandering for what felt like miles into the maze of the palace. We were nowhere I recognized; every turning brought new surprises. At last the King unlocked a door with a shimmering, ruby-encrusted key, and led me into a tiny room.
I coughed as I choked on the dust and cobwebs. Evidently this room hadn’t seen daylight for decades, if not centuries. The king snapped his fingers and two balls of fire appeared atop two torches, glimmering brightly and illuminating the room. A suit of armor stood in one corner; across from it, a wolf pelt was nailed into the wall.
“What is this?” I asked, feeling unsettled by the sight of a pelt.
“Son,” the Summer King said. “This…is your heritage. As it is mine. As it is Breena’s.” At the mention of her name the Wolfstone, which I kept in my pocket at all times, began to shine brightly, burning a sultry warmth into the side of my thigh.
“As the current Summer King, it is my job to preserve and protect the traditions of Summer. As my heir and my daughter, Breena has to do these things, too. But many years ago, long before your time, long even before my own, when the very first Summer king was a mere boy who did not know that he was destined to become the first king of a Feyland that would soon be divided, when this boy was but a youthful adventurer – he found himself trapped in a dragon’s cave, being prepared to be that dragon’s supper.
“But just as the dragon was about to consume him whole, a pack of wolves arrived and attacked the dragon, killing him and saving the boy after a battle that saw much bloodshed, and much death. Overcome with gratitude at being saved by the wolves, who had protected him although he was not of their blood, that boy swore loyalty and fealty to the Wolves forever more. As the boy grew into a man, he remained friends with the Wolves, living in their camps, eating their food, breaking bread with them. Over time, the boy became the most courageous leader in Feyland – encouraged by the loyalty and bravery of the wolves. And, when circumstances divided Feyland into Kingdoms, Hamish – for that was the boy’s name – became the first King of Summer as we know it today. The Wolves and the Summer Kingdom have always preserved this friendship, this bond, throughout their lives. That fur pelt you see up there, and that armor besides it, serves as a testament to the bond that the Wolves and the Summer kings shared.
“Now, when Redleaf took over the Summer Kingdom, she severed that bond, fostering feelings of ill will between the Wolves and Fey, but I am pleased to see that Breena – through her friendship with you – has restored it. I speak of friendship, of course, but I cannot deny that for a time it was much more – Breena is the first female blood heir in centuries, and her attachments therefore have far more import for the future of Feyland than any other woman.”
I looked down, embarrassed.
“Fear not, Logan,” the Summer King continued. “Breena is, after all, easy to love. But to have her friendship, her loyalty, her trust – no man can ever merit all these things, and so he who receives them is luckier than any man might reasonably believe himself to be.”
“Is that why I’m bonded to her?” I couldn’t help asking. “This ancient friendship between Summer and the Wolves?”
“In part,” began the King. But then he conceded “I think there is more to it than that, I must confess.”
“But she chose Kian.” I couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Even though I know this, I can’t help loving her.”
The Summer King patted my shoulders with a kindly smile. “I know, Wolf. And someday I hope for everybody’s sake that you will find that you are able to move on, to find someone who loves you as much – or even more – than you love Breena, whom you can love in turn. There are many here in Feyland who have their eyes upon you, Logan. You just need to broaden your horizons.”
As I nodded at the Summer King, I felt a curious feeling flooding through me. A feeling I had never experienced before. Relief – yes, but something more. The feeling that maybe my pain might be able to end one day. It was as if the Summer King had given me permission to break my own mental bond with Breena – to cast off the shackles of this ancient friendship that had linked me and Breena, but confused me into thinking maybe we were meant to be something more.
I felt a weight come off my shoulders – the weight I had shouldered ever since I’d met her. That need to protect her, to guard her, to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her.
No, it was Breena’s job to guard herself – to take care of herself. And Kian’s to love her. But not mine. Our time together was coming to an end – and while I’d always care for her, for the first time in years I saw the light of a potential future without her.
And I could look into that future with hope.
Epilogue
The Summer King turned to me, his eyes closed. He inhaled deeply, as if he were breathing in some long-forgotten scent. The Wolfstone glimmered in my pocket, growing hotter and hotter, and then I heard the voice of the Summer King echoing within my ears as Breena had done. For my connection wasn’t just with Breena anymore – but with all her kin and kind. With all of the summer court.
We too shared this bond.
In my mind’s eye I saw what Frank Flametail saw – I saw the first wolves, the generations upon generations of friendship that bonded my kind to the Summer Kings. I saw the early kings of Summer – all with that distinctive chestnut-red hair, riding through the forests, Wolves at their side – loyal companions, best friends, closest allies.
I saw my Grandfather – feeling a pang as I recognized him – riding next to Flametail, and recognized that they had what Breena and I had. A close bond, a deep friendship.
But that was all.
“Logan,” the Summer King’s voice boomed magnificently. “I know who you are.” A figure appeared next to him. Proud – beautiful – alluring – yet noble. A figure I recognized. It was Connell, the Red Wolf.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?” the King continued blithely, apparently unaware of our new guest.
“You are the Red Wolf,” Connell said, his voice solemn, his eyes grave.
“You are the Red Wolf,” the Summer King echoed his words without hearing him. “It was revealed before, but many do not know, or cannot understand, the significance of that, son. It means you are the Keeper of the Wolfstone. You have the magic of the Wolves within you, Logan.”
I couldn’t deny it. Not to the Summer King. Not to Breena’s father. I held out my hand, the Wolfstone gleaming bright upon my palm. I wasn’t afraid – not any longer. I could trust him. The Wolfstone wanted me to reveal it, at last.
“But the three sisters…” I began.
Connell cut me off. “They will unlock the power of the Wolfstone,” Connell said.
“I’ve had my theories on that,” said the Summer King. “I’ve been wondering when it would come up, ever since I figured out your identity as the Red Wolf. With the Red Wolf comes the Wolfstone, and with that comes change. I can only guess it is time for the Wolves to regain their magic. And the Summer Kingdom will welcome this change w
ith open arms and wings spread wide. After all, before becoming Wolves, the Fey who were your ancestors were from Summer initially.”
My mouth fell open. “So there’s a possibility I too am from Summer.”
“Not just a possibility,” said the King, grinning. “In fact, a certainty. The line of your Grandfather is direct from Summer nobility.”
Suddenly a thought came into my mind, unbidden – a thought that became surer the brighter the Wolfstone glowed.
“Breena…” I began. “She’s one of the Sisters, isn’t she? That’s why I keep getting her thoughts, her images. But what about Rose? Why do I have this connection with her?”
Connell answered me. “That is yet to be seen, Wolf. Since you have kept the stone safe, and the time of its unlocking is near – know this, and know this well. You will no longer need to marry a Fey woman to restore the magic back to the Wolf Fey. The unlocking of the Wolfstone will be enough henceforth to fulfill that resolve.”
At his words, I saw a new spirit before me. The image of my grandfather, standing behind Connell, nodding at me as his eyes crinkled with pride and love. “Logan, our champion. You have made me so very proud with all that you have done.”
“But Grandfather1” I faltered. “I haven’t restored the Wolf Fey magic yet. And all my efforts to get Breena only brought her closer to Kian. I didn’t do what you asked. I never married a Fey.”
“But you won the hearts of the people,” my grandfather said. “You united the Wolf Fey as never before. You won the respect of the Summer Fey – and now they see Wolves as true equals, true brothers, our sisters and brothers and comrades. There will no longer be any distinction between Wolf and Fey – all Fey are equal. All Fey are one.”
As they spoke, their power spilled into me. Their pride, their trust, flowed through me. It was my turn to shine – to be a champion. Just as Breena had a role to play in Feyland, just as Kian had one – so too did I have a mission. So too did I have a destiny.
It was my turn, now.
“So?” I looked up at the Summer King. “What next?”
The Summer King smiled. “The Sisters have begun to reach out to you,” he said. “It is only a matter of time.”
Logan, Breena, and Kian’s journeys continue in:
the Frost Series
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Enchanted Frost (Frost #8)
******
Prologue
Kian
If anyone had been looking down at me, from the peaks and heights of the Atlas Mountains that divided life from death, divided Feyland from the mysterious Fields, I know what they would have seen. A young man, his face ravaged by grief, the pale Fairy skin flushing with rage, with sorrow, with pain. A man who had lost everything.
I know what they would say. The same thing villagers and passersby had been whispering for days, now, as I wandered – aimlessly, lonely, trying to outrun the fear and pain that buzzed like mosquitoes in my ears. I could hear nothing; I could not think. All I could do was run. Away from the pain of losing her. Away from the voices and the whispers that had dogged my steps. “There goes Prince Kian. Jilted his fiancée, don’t you know? They were so in love – I knew such things never end well! His mother would never have stood for such passion, such weakness. And she’s proved right in the end. The Winter heir has lost everything because his heart ran too hot with the blood of desire.”
It was true, after all. Love had led me to this place. Love had led me into Breena’s arms, her lightly golden skin, into the crevice at her neck that always smelled like jasmine and bergamot, where I would lay my head. Led me to her lips that tasted of sweet and tart berries. Let me to her long chestnut hair which I so loved to curl about my fingertips. Love had made me weak for her – and for a while it had made me strong, too. Together, Breena and I had determined that we would reunite Feyland – and we had! We had ended the war. We had brought Winter and Summer back together. We had fought off the Dark Hordes, the Pixies, banshees – all manner of creatures that once populated the pages of my family’s bestiary. We had restored the Twin Suns of Feyland; we had restored food to the larder of every peasant and farmer in both halves of Feyland.
And still it was not enough.
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Table of Contents
Copyright
A Note from the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
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