Night Vision

As we approached the throne, my guards fell to the side, as did Grieve, and then Wrath swept in to stand by Lainule’s side, his jet hair sparkling with frost now. I gazed up at my father, willing him to be young again, willing him to stay and guide me, but even as I wished, I knew it was simply that—a wish, a dream, and not a possibility.



Drummers beat out a tattoo as Lainule motioned for me to come forward. I approached, alone and feeling like the weight of the world was hovering over my head, a silver sword held by a thread of ice and snow.



And then it was a blur…



“Do you, Cicely Tuuli Waters, accept the burden of this crown…”



“Do you accept responsibility for the lives of your people…”



“Do you bind yourself to the Court of Snow and Ice…”



“Do you give pledge by your life, your soul, your heartstone, to protect and defend the realm of Winter…”



“Do you leave past allegiances behind and cleave only to your responsibility as Queen of Winter…”



“Do you pledge to lead the Court of Snow and Ice in honor, courage, in both light and in darkness…”



The questions went on and on, and to each I murmured an affirmation, losing myself in the cadence of the ceremony. The lights flickered their cool light, and I had only eyes for Lainule and Wrath. I had been born for this moment, been led back to New Forest, been thrown into the fray against Myst, and she was still out there, waiting for me, hating me for taking the throne she could not have for her own.



And then…the last question came.



“Will you wear the crown, in joy? And will you wear this crown even when it weighs so very heavy upon your brow that you wish you were no more of this world?” Lainule lifted up a silver circlet like the one I’d been wearing, only more elaborate. Entwining silver vines coiled around each other, creating a delicate yet sturdy diadem. They met at a point in the center to wrap around a glowing black onyx cabochon. Below the gem, a clear, single diamond sparkled.



“I do so swear.” I gazed into her eyes, my stomach flipping as she raised the circlet and lowered it around my head. The hairstyle Druise had given me allowed her to slip the ends behind my ears, and the crown settled onto my head with a shudder.



“Then, all who witness, hear and know this: Cicely Waters has taken the burden of this Court upon her shoulders and will now and forever be the Queen of Winter, the Queen of Ice and Snow. Let all who behold her fear and tremble. Let no one question her authority. Hail the Queen of Winter! Hail the new Faerie Queen of the Eldburry Barrow!”



And I stood there, amid the cheering and bowing that came from the crowds, wearing my beautiful dress and my sparkling crown, and my heart soaked up the frost that laid waste to the land, and my soul reveled under the rule of the longest night of the year.



Chapter 10



When the ceremony was finished, Lainule whispered to me that it would be a good idea if, for my first announcement, I declared Grieve to be my Consort and King-Elect. It was expected that I make some sort of speech, and so I stepped up to the throne. Hesitating, I turned to my father, and he nodded for me to sit.



Inhaling sharply, I looked around the Court. Everyone fell silent, waiting for me. Slowly, deliberately, I lowered myself to the throne, and a soft rustle of air rolled through the throne room as everyone exhaled.



“My first order of business is to declare Grieve my Consort and King-Elect. We are to be married, and he will rule at my side.” I wasn’t sure of how to phrase it, but by the appreciative murmurs, I apparently did just fine.



Wrath and Lainule knelt before me and I stared at them, feeling entirely disconcerted. After a moment’s fluster, I hurriedly motioned to them.



“Please, stand.”



They stood, again, silent, and I realized they were waiting for me to give them permission to speak.



“What do you want? I mean…what is it?” As I stammered over the words, my face began to flush and I tried to hide my embarrassment. I was so not ready for this.



But Lainule gave me a gentle smile and whispered something, and I could hear her on the slipstream telling me to be calm, to take it slow and everything would be all right. I inhaled a long, deep breath and let it out slowly, calming myself.



“Your Highness, we must return to the Marburry Barrow to see to Summer’s coronation. If you wish to attend, your guard and advisor shall escort you. If you would give us leave to go…” Again, a gentle prompting.



This time I got it. “Of course, you may go. And trust me, I’ll be there with bells on.”



She laughed, lightly, and the rest of the Court laughed with her. I decided right then and there that they’d have to get used to a less-than-regal approach to the crown.



As they began to leave the room, I realized I had to dismiss everyone else. In a moderate panic, I looked around for guidance. Grieve was too far away to be of any help, but Strict was standing there, right by my side. He must have seen the indecision running rampant on my face because he leaned close to me.



“Your Highness, just tell me to dismiss the Court. We’ve had so little time to prepare that everyone will forgive you a few breaches of formality.” He looked about ready to pat my hand but then pulled away.



I cleared my throat, grateful to him. “Strict, you may dismiss the Court.”



“As you desire, Your Highness.” He bowed, then turned to the man standing next to him. “Announce the dismissal.”



His companion picked up what looked like a trumpet. I steeled myself for some raucous sound, but the notes that floated out of it were sublime, like a series of wind chimes that reverberated through the room.



A moment later, when the talking had died down, he called out in a loud voice that ricocheted through the room, “Court is dismissed. You may go.”



And the crowd began to disperse, though some of them gave me a backward glance, as if they wanted to stay and meet me or hear me say something. I turned to Strict.



“If these were normal times, there would be a celebration, wouldn’t there?”



He nodded. “Yes, Your Highness, but these are not normal times, and as long as Myst is looming out there, we have to be cautious. We’ve given leave for small parties but have promised the people that when Myst is overthrown, both the Summer and Winter Courts will celebrate for a week.”



“Myst…yes.” As I looked around, I realized that this had been where Tabera had died. She’d died here, her blood soaking into the floors. I wondered if she was watching, from wherever the Cambyra spirits went when they died. Or had she gone on, long past caring?



Sobered, a little giddy, and oddly feeling anticlimactic, I motioned to Grieve. “We need to go to Marburry Barrow. I have to see Rhiannon take the throne.”



“Yes, but you cannot wear your coronation dress, now that you are Queen. It wouldn’t be proper. The only reason she wore hers is that the coronations are happening so close together. She did not intend to upstage you.”



“She didn’t upstage me, and frankly, as lovely as this dress is, I’d rather be in something easier to move in.” I reached up to take off the crown, but Grieve stayed my hand.



“From now on, at all times when you are out of your chambers, you must wear the crown, just as you did the Queen-Elect circlet. Even when you go into New Forest, and yes—I know you will still be doing so. I’ve given up expecting you to fully conform to our ways. I don’t think that’s even possible.” His eyes glimmered, though, and he laughed.



“I miss us-time. We haven’t had much time together the past few days. I miss spending time with the gang. Honestly, I’m scared, my love.”



“Save that talk for our private chamber,” he cautioned. “Come, let’s get you into something more comfortable, and then we will go watch Rhiannon take her place at the helm of Summer.”



Half an hour later, thanks to Druise and Grieve, I was in yet another dress, this one easy and comfortable to move in. It swept the floor, yes, but it was deep indigo blue and sparkled with beaded crystals. It had long sleeves and a deep V-neck, and it snugged in at the waist with a silver belt, then flowed easily down around my feet. I kept the silver boots—they were cute, and when would I have a chance to wear something that impractical again? And of course, I didn’t touch the makeup or crown. I gave Druise leave to head out for the Marburry Barrow ahead of time.



Grieve was dressed in black trousers and a shirt matching the color of my dress. It set off the platinum of his hair, and I leaned into his arms as he pulled me to him.



“Are you happy, my love?” His voice shook, just a little, and I realized he was terribly afraid I’d regret my choice.



I wasn’t sure how to answer. “The learning curve scares the hell out of me. And so does Myst. I’m dreading the next few months—except for our wedding. But…I’ll get used to it, and I’ll learn to love it. I just…so many changes in such a short time. It’s overwhelming.”



“Then be overwhelmed in my arms, my love.” And he kissed me, long and deep, and I noticed his scent had shifted. The bonfires and apples had vanished, and now he smelled like frost and crisp, northern nights. Like spruce and pine, and bayberry and cinnamon.



I snuggled into his embrace, not wanting to go anywhere, see anyone. But Rhiannon was waiting and I would be there, supporting her all the way.



Check and Fearless were waiting for us, and they bundled us into a sledge pulled by a team of white horses with silver bridles. We went sailing across the snow toward the portal. Once there, another ten guards were waiting to escort us through. On the other side, we began to run, although they held themselves back to keep pace with me, and we danced over the snow, feet barely touching the drifts. I reveled in the feel, though I had a sudden urge to turn into my owl-self and fly there, but I knew that would throw the guards into a tailspin and so decided to restrain myself.



Now that I could change form even in my clothing, I envisioned a lot more trips up yonder. Especially on days when the Court got to me, and I had the feeling there would be plenty of those.



Ulean, are you with us?



Yes, I am with you. It was a beautiful coronation. Congratulations, Cicely. I’m glad that you made it through.



You were with Lainule when she took the throne, weren’t you?



Yes, I was. And I will be with you as long as you need me. When you have a daughter, if she takes the throne, I will eventually guide and help her.



A daughter. Children. The concept had entered my mind, especially when Grieve and I were together, but now it hit me that I would be expected to have an heir to the throne. And if I didn’t give birth to a daughter, perhaps Grieve would have to do what my father had done. That thought hit me in the gut. I pushed it away, not wanting to think about it right now.



I’d better think about that some other time.



As you wish. Be cautious in these woods—there are dangers about, Cicely. You would do well to tell your guards.



I started to turn to Check, but as I did, a low growling filled the air as shadows moved out of the forest to attack us. What the hell? I couldn’t see who our attackers were at first, but then the snow cleared for a moment. We were facing a group of Shadow Hunters.



Damn! I’d left my dagger at home. I looked around wildly for a weapon, but Grieve shoved me behind him, where Check and three of the other guards surrounded me, dragging me away from the fray. Frantic to help, I tried to make them let me go, but they held firm as the remaining six guards and Grieve moved to attack.



“I can call the winds—I can summon—” I’d barely managed to get the words out when one of our guards went down.



“We’re closer to Marburry than Eldburry! Get the Queen and King-Elect out of danger!” Fearless glanced over his shoulder at us. The Vampiric Fae attacking him began to loosen his jaw and was quickly shifting form.



“Watch out! Behind you!” My scream cut through the air as the Shadow Hunter launched himself at the guard. They went down in a scuffle, blood flying.



I managed to break away from the guards and through the haze of swirling snow, I whispered, “Gale Force.”



As the wind swirled around me, catching me up, I reveled in the power, but when I felt myself slipping, I forced myself to focus solely on the Shadow Hunters, aiming directly for them. I fought the seductive siren song of the wind, and when Ulean blew around me, I reached out to her for help.



I need to control this thing. I need to use it rather than be used. What do I do, Ulean? How do I rein it in?



She whistled by, buoyed up by the swirl of air. Focus on the core of the storm. Can you see it? Look for it, it will be a sparkling note—a brilliant chord in the middle of the symphony.



I looked. When I was caught up by the thrall of the winds, I could see into their realm, and now I looked this way and that, and then—I saw it. A white-hot core, a light so bright I could barely look away once I’d seen it. The heart of the storm. The heart of the wind.



I see it! What now?



Do not dive into it—no matter how much it calls to you, resist. Instead, reach out, touch it, and demand it obey you. Tell it what you want it to do.



I hesitantly obeyed, and when my fingers met the light, a shiver raced through me, like a lover’s seduction, and I wanted nothing more than to give myself over to it. But I remembered what Ulean had said, and instead I steeled myself against the call.



Obey me. Follow my command.



The wind did not respond. I tried again, forcing as much strength and control as I could into my words as they filtered through the slipstream. After a moment, the wind began to bend, and the light responded.



I pointed to the Shadow Hunters. Attack them and only them.



And the storm responded, barreling down on the group, driving them back. The Shadow Hunter attacking Fearless let go and began to back up, but the storm still caught him in its grasp, tossing him into the air like a light breeze might catch up an autumn leaf. The Vampiric Fae retreated into the woods, and I retracted the winds, willing them to calm, and ran over to Fearless, dropping to my knees by his side. He was limp and bleeding against the snow.