Wolf Magic Page 8

  “What?”

  “Fey magic?” Alistair’s smile twisted slightly. “I mean – there are rumors that Wolves were once Fey – that they have some magic within them…”

  “I don’t know,” I said, wanting to change the subject before he started asking questions about a Wolfstone. “Maybe it was just an enchanted pool. Or maybe…I don’t know…I wanted to see her so badly that…”

  “A telepathic connection?” Alistair confirmed my secret hope. “That’s – pretty big.”

  “Yeah, you can tell me about it.”

  “I know you and Breena are friends – but telepathy doesn’t happen between ‘just friends’. It happens when a connection is really – really strong.”

  “Like with you and Rose?”

  Alistair turned crimson. “Love-magic,” he said. “It’s terribly complicated.”

  “And terribly human,” I added.

  Alistair nodded. “How can the most human thing of all end up being the most powerful magic of all?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe there’s magic even the Fey don’t understand.”

  As if roused by my speech, the Wolfstone began to heat up in my pocket.

  Perhaps there is magic even the Fey don’t understand.

  Chapter 13

  I quickly put my hands in front of my pocket, flushing. The last thing I wanted was for Alistair or any of the other Frost Fire Knights to get wind of the fact that I had the Wolfstone. Knowing what I knew about its dangers, let alone its powers, I knew that the fewer people that knew about the Wolfstone and what it could do, the better. And as much as I trusted Alistair, part of me couldn’t help wondering – how would the Fey feel about the Wolves getting their magic back? Would they accept us as brothers or be threatened by our newfound powers?

  I tried to wave away my distrust. I was being silly, I told myself; Alistair was like a brother to me; I could trust him. But deep down I felt a strange sense of worry. I wasn’t like him – or like Jeremy – or like Kian. I didn’t possess any magical powers beyond my ability to transform. And who knows what loyalties would be revealed, what prejudices would be made plain, if the secret of the Wolfstone got out? I looked at Alistair’s wide, trusting face, his bright eyes beaming at me with friendly affection, and I felt half-ashamed of my suspicions. But with something as important as the Wolfstone, I couldn’t take any risks. I hadn’t even told Josephine, my own cousin, about the Wolfstone; I wasn’t about to start blabbing about its magic all over Feyland.

  “Come on,” said Alistair, “I don’t know about you, but my stomach’s been grumbling for hours.”

  As if in response, my own belly began to growl, and I became newly conscious of my own hunger.

  Cary held up his bow. “How about I go track down some game fowl?” he said. “You two can start building the fire. We’re not going to get back to the Summer Lands or Winter Lands tonight, in any case, so we might as well camp here, near a water source.”

  Barnaby nodded. “I’ll set up the tent,” he said, going off with Pan to prepare our lodgings for the evening.

  Alistair and I knelt by the fire and began to rub together flint stones, creating a spark.

  “Here,” Alistair said. “Let me do that.” He pointed his fingertips at the collection of twigs and branches we’d put together and an orange light burst into flames.

  “I could have done that, you know?” I said, unable to resist a slight sullenness. “The non-magical way.” I made a spark with two stones, for emphasis.

  “Right…” Alistair looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry – I didn’t think.”

  “It’s fine,” I said quickly. Too quickly. My face turned red and I looked down. Don’t be so sensitive, Logan, I tried to tell myself. He’s just trying to help. But it was just another reminder of what he could do and I could not, of the magic that he possessed and that I never would. I tried to ignore the subtle sense of shame that crept in as I watched the fire burn and as I leaned into its warmth. Yet something else the fairies can do which I cannot do. Yet another thing that divides us.

  Luckily, Cary was able to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. “How time flies,” he neighed as he approached with some fresh meat slung over his back. “It seems like only yesterday that we were fighting off the Dark Hordes!”

  “Dark Hordes?” Alistair laughed. “It seems like yesterday we were fighting the Pixies. And allies or not – I still don’t trust them. But the time has gone so swiftly. So much has changed in Feyland. Growing up, I thought Summer and Winter would be at war forever – or at least, until one defeated the other…”

  “But now there are new dangers,” interjected Cary. “It’s not like everything’s fixed. The Dark Hordes may be gone, but even with the sun restored there’s plenty of work to be done.”

  Alistair nodded. “Especially in the Winter Kingdom. Crops were never as plentiful as they were in the Summer lands, but even so they were always able to support themselves. Not any longer. Winter will be dependent on Summer’s mercy this season, I guarantee it.”

  “And will they take kindly to that?” asked Cary.

  “The fairies are allied now,” said Alistair, shrugging. “Feyland is united. They have no choice. One day, things will be better for Feyland – Summer and Winter will both be fertile. But for now, necessity will hasten the reunification, I think.”

  “So we can pay attention to more pressing matters,” Cary replied. “Like those nasty Minotaurs – no offense, Barnaby.”

  “None taken,” Barnaby said. “I know we don’t exactly have a sparkling record when it comes to violence. But I like to think the younger generation of Minotaurs is far more willing to behave peacefully than our parents. Many of us are half-breeds, after all – we’ve been exposed to a different way of life.”

  “Idealistic,” said Cary. “You don’t see too many centaurs embracing change…”

  “But even so,” Alistair shot in. “The Minotaurs are a threat. Good thing we heard Logan’s call.”

  I smiled weakly. “I wasn’t so sure you’d come,” I admitted.

  “What are you talking about?” Cary shot me a look of mock horror. “You didn’t trust us? You’re our brother, our sworn ally. We trust you just as you trust us! We’d never leave you to fight without us!’

  “We don’t want you to get all the glory!” Alistair laughed. “We want our share of the action, too!”

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at Alistair’s droll expression.

  “So,” said Jeremy, joining us. “Where were you headed, anyway, Logan?”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond – after all, I wasn’t even sure myself where I was going. I was following the call of the Wolfstone – going wherever it took me. Wherever my legs went of their own accord. In search of Three Sisters who might not even be real. A folly, to be sure!

  “I, uh,” I began, faltering. “I just needed to get away, that’s all.”

  “Away?” Jeremy leaned in. “But who were you trying to get away from?”

  “Not us?” Pan looked at me.

  “No – from the Wolves.” I said. “There’s something I have to do for them. I’m not quite sure what it is.”

  Alistair laughed. “Typical Feyland,” he said. “Everyone’s always on one quest or another.”

  “It doesn’t sound stupid, then?” I asked

  Alistair shook his head. “It sounds brave,” he said.

  “Believe me,” I admitted. “I’d bring you along if I could. Even having you all here with me now…I feel so enormously lucky. I’m among friends, after all. Friends I can rely on. Friends who have shown me such extraordinary courage and such great loyalty – I thank you, but moreover, my entire Wolf Clan thanks you. You risked your lives to fight on behalf of your rivals, the Wolves.”

  “Of course we did!” said Jeremy hotly.

  “And now you risked your lives fighting against the one woman who wished to harm Queen Breena the most – Clariss.”

  “It’s part of our oath as knight
s,” said Barnaby. “To protect Feyland, to protect the Queen and King of Feyland, regardless of where we’re from. And to protect our own knights. So you see, you’re not special or anything.” Barnaby grinned.

  I tried to stay gruff, formal, businesslike as a knight should be. But emotion crept into my voice nonetheless.

  Part of me wondered if I should just stay cool, exhibit no emotion. After all, Josephine and the other Wolves seemed to think that the fairies looked down on us, that they thought of us as inferior. Was that how Alistair and Jeremy looked at me, I wondered? Because they were full Fey and I was not? I’d never really thought about it before, but since being entrusted with the Wolfstone, my perceptions of the social fabric of Feyland had begun to change. But as I looked into the trusting eyes of the Frost Fire Knights, I knew that our bond – the bond of sworn brotherhood – was stronger than any blood ties.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said at last. “Because you have risked your life in coming to help the Wolf Fey, I feel at last that I can trust you. Before my grandfather died, he made me promise him that I would restore the full magic of the fey to the Wolf Fey. The Wolf Fey have lost their magic, and many have lost their Fey ways. Some, like my father, even married humans, embracing their mortality. They celebrated being unlike the Fey – who looked down on humans, looked down on love. But I believe we Wolves can have it both ways – have the benefits of mortality and the benefits of magic. That’s why I believe it’s my job to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps, to restore the magic of the fey for my Wolves. That is what I’m doing on this quest.” I fell silent, gauging the others’ reactions. I didn’t want to spill the beans about the Wolfstone, but I felt a sense of kinship with the others who sat around the campfire. If I trusted them, if I allowed myself to open up to them, would I be able to feel comfortable at last?

  “Well,” said Jeremy, after a pause. “Then I think that this is a quest worth going after.”

  “Hear hear!” Pan and Barnaby chimed in, raising their glasses of whiskey.

  “A noble quest indeed,” Alistair considered. “But just how are you going to go about doing such a thing?” He raised an eyebrow.

  My words were calm and sure. “Somehow I’m confident that whatever magic, whatever force, whatever power has led me to this point…it will lead me to where I need to be.”

  “So you trust in blind faith?” Jeremy looked a bit dubious.

  “You could say that,” I said. No, as tempting as it was, I could never let Alistair know about the Wolfstone – it was too precious for that. Connell, the first Red Wolf, the first lupine Fey, had kept it a secret for centuries, if not millennia. Now it was my turn to do the same thing. “But you must admit that in Feyland, all things are possible. Especially when they involve magic. Breena has shown this to be true over and over again. Who would have guessed that a sixteen-year-old girl from Oregon would become Empress of Feyland? And Rose – your Rose – has proven that a seemingly inexperienced apprentice alchemist in a palace can become a powerful Enchantress.”

  Alistair turned pink with pleasure at the mention of Rose’s name. “Yes, who would have thought it?” He looked down, embarrassed at how crimson his cheeks had gotten. “But I’ve always had confidence in her.” He looked back up at me and patted my shoulder. “Breena and Rose,” he mused aloud. “Two young maidens who are now the two most powerful and magical beings in Feyland. Nobody could have imagined such a thing.”

  “Nobody except for us,” I whispered back.

  “We who have always believed in them…” Alistair said, before stifling a yawn. “Wolf Prince, it’s been a long journey, and I’m tired after that grueling battle. I think we all need some sleep.”

  “Agreed!” the others chimed in.

  “Me too,” I conceded the point. “I’m physically shattered. The journey ahead may require much of our strength, so let’s get as much rest as we can.”

  Chapter 14

  No sooner had my head hit the soft patch of mossy grass that I had decided to use for a pillow than I began to drift off once more into the stultifying sweetness of slumber. I hadn’t realized quite how tired I was until all my muscles began to ache at once, stinging in sync as sleep caressed my body as lovingly as a woman’s hands. I breathed heavily, groaning softly as my nostrils began to flare with the beginning of a snore. The pain in my limbs began to ease as images flashed through my head – the first hint of dreams coming to collect me, coming to take me into that world of memories and visions that had for so long been the only escape I had from the monotony of wakefulness, from the monotony of missing her. And yet, as I entered that black realm of sleep, I could have sworn I heard a sound – a loud sound that all but ruptured my eardrums. It was the sound of glass shattering, but somehow it seemed louder – as if the sound had been magnified a hundredfold, rumbling as if it were the sea itself that were quaking.

  “No! Blast!” A feminine voice rang out across my ears, and then the volume of the scene returned to normal – just in time for me to make out the source of that familiar sound. A high-pitched, melodious voice, even in the midst of consternation. “I can’t believe I’ve done it again…”

  I started running towards the source of the voice. As I looked around me, I began to recognize my surroundings. The bright orange friezes on the wall, the deep crimson marble columns that held up the ceilings, the warm and earthy glow coming in from the window and casting sparkling shadows on the floor – we were definitely in the Summer Palace. It even smelled like home – that curiously spicy blend of cinnamon and orange that characterized the Summer lands, and which even now brought Breena’s image into relief in my mind’s eye.

  But it was not Breena whom I saw before me now. The figure that crouched on the floor, desperately trying to pick up fragments of scattered glass without pricking her fingers, was gloriously beautiful to be sure – a less biased man than I would argue that she rivaled Breena when it came to looks. Her long auburn locks cascaded in glimmering waves down her back, revealing streaks of gold and fiery red along with the normal coppery auburn that made up most of her hair’s arresting color. Her eyes were of a constantly changing hue – they looked green in one light, grey in another, and hazel in a third light still. Whatever their color, they possessed a very particular expression – one striking in its simplicity – a practical and no-nonsense brand of intelligence that gave her a mesmerizing kind of power, a steely strength, which could not help but floor me.

  Was this the same Rose I had once known, the Rose I had mentally dismissed as nothing but a younger sister for so much of the time I knew her? She was Rodney’s kid sister, the baby of the group, a child…

  But the woman I saw before me was no child. Rose was every inch a woman now – beautiful, alluring, and yet still strangely self-possessed with that same calm that had always characterized her when she was younger. Evidently while her looks had developed, her inner core had remained the same.

  “That’s the third time this week! By the hand of the Alchemist…”

  “Rose?” I couldn’t contain my surprise, but as soon as I had spoken, I clapped a hand over my mouth. I didn’t want her to see me.

  After all, what was I doing here? Surely if anyone would be meeting Rose in his dreams, it would be Alistair? He’d just told me about it – that the two of them had been linked through telepathy. So what was I doing here in his stead? That wasn’t possible – couldn’t be possible. Rose and I were friends, but we certainly weren’t in love – nothing like that! As beautiful as she was, Rose was off-limits in so many ways. She was Alistair’s true love, the sister of my friend Rodney.

  And she wasn’t Breena.

  “Alistair?” Rose looked up as I took a swift step behind the curtain, into the shadows, so that she wouldn’t see me. “Alistair, is that you?” She looked confused. “What are you doing here?”

  And then I heard it – as strongly and as loudly as I had heard Breena’s thoughts I heard the voice of Rose in my ears. Was that…Logan? I
felt my own face blush crimson as a shy flush spread across her cheeks, too. You silly girl – why must you torment yourself like this? Always thinking of him! No - it couldn’t be…what would he be doing here, anyway? Stupid Rose – you’ve got to stop dwelling on him!

  On…me? My mouth flew open. I stood aghast, flabbergasted. Did Rose have a crush on me?

  He loves Breena, Rose – and nobody else. He’ll never love you; you might as well resign yourself to it now, before anyone else gets drawn into that tragic love triangle. You’ve seen how everyone involved has suffered so terribly – must you force yourself to suffer, too? You must be strong. No matter how much you want him.

  No matter how much his eyes make you go weak in the knees.

  My own eyes had opened wide at this revelation. Rose – in love with me? The thought had never occurred to me – I’d never thought that anyone, least of all another Fey, would be interested in me. With the Wolves it was different. I was Royalty, for starts, and furthermore Wolves were awfully liberated when it came to matters of the flesh – willing and often eager to make love to whomever they found attractive without expecting it to lead to more than pleasant memories of a summer night.

  But Rose – in love with me?

  I didn’t have time to dwell on this unexpected revelation, however. Another voice – gruff and heavy – was calling Rose’s name.

  “Rose, dear?” It was the voice of Breena’s father, Frank Flametail, the Summer King. “Did you get that potion yet?” He lumbered into view. Even though his flame-colored beard was tinged with grey, the Summer King still possessed a distinctively regal bearing. He was every inch the king, and Rose bowed low upon his approach.

  “I’m so sorry, your Highness,” she said. “Not yet.”

  “Well, we’ll want to hurry it up, then, won’t we?” Frank raised a ginger eyebrow at her. “We need to be able to double our crop yield, if not triple it, if we expect to feed all of Winter on top of our own people.” He sighed heavily. “People are dying every day in the Winter lands, and although things are better here we certainly don’t have a surplus we can give away. We’ll have to resort to magical means of agriculture – or I don’t know what will happen.”