Page 23 of Wings of Starlight

Absently, Clarion noted that the Pixie Dust Tree had sprouted a single Neverberry just above the scout’s head, as though offering her hospitality while she kept her lonely watch. Every now and again, it took notice of its inhabitants and their moods. Once, after a particularly difficult day, the branches just outside her window had blossomed riotously with golden butterfly magnolias.

“Your Highness,” Artemis said by way of greeting, her voice as coolly deferential as ever.

Clarion rested her elbows on the balcony railing, doing her very best to appear casual. It occurred to her that she so rarely did such a thing—what a concept, appearingcasual—and had little idea what to do with her hands or face.

“I have a free afternoon,” she said. “I was hoping to go out.”

Artemis eyed her warily. “Where do you want to go?”

“The border of Spring and Winter?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced. She’d meant to sound confident, but it came out as more of a question.

Artemis grimaced. “I don’t think Her Majesty would like that very much.”

“No, I don’t think she would.”

Artemis seemed relieved. “Then we’re agreed.”

“If,” Clarion added brightly, “she knew that I went.”

Artemis straightened up, now catching on to Clarion’s game. She laid her sword across her lap and turned to her with a look on her face that could only be described as incredulous. “You want me to lie to Her Majesty for you.”

Well, that was much easier to broach than she’d expected. “If you want to put it like that…yes.”

“Surely—” As if on cue, the branch of the tree bearing the fruit drooped onto Artemis’s shoulder. Bewildered, she plucked it and stared down at it. “What is this?”

Clarion bit down on a smile. “A bribe, I think. Did it work?”

Artemis did not look impressed, nor did she dignify their antics with a reply. “Surely there’s somewhere else you might like to go.” After a moment, with a touch of hopefulness in her voice, she added: “Perhaps Tinker’s Nook?”

Clarion met her gaze with all the conviction burning bright within her. “Nowhere else would suit me better than the border.”

Artemis, clearly sensing that Clarion would not be moved with good sense, sighed deeply. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Of course.”

Artemis stood and, with a flutter of her wings, came to land gracefully on the banister. The leaves cast dappled shadows over her face. “Your Highness, my orders are to keep yousafe. Given the circumstances—and frankly, knowing you—the border is the very last place I should allow you to go.”

Clarion had expected that answer. Artemis, after all, was the most duty-bound fairy she knew—and far more devoted to her than Clarion deserved. As much as it frustrated her, it touched her. Artemis would not be so strict if she didn’t care. “I wouldn’t insist if it weren’t important. Trust me.”

Artemis hesitated. Whatever she saw in Clarion’s expression must have softened her, because she sat so that they were nearly eye level again. She took a bite of the fruit and chewed thoughtfully. “What’s at the border that you want to see so badly?”

“The Warden of the Winter Woods.”

Shock flickered in Artemis’s eyes, as subtle a change as shadows passing over the moon. Warily, she asked, “Why would you want to meet with them?”

“I think he knows how to defeat the Nightmares.” Clarion frowned. “Cutting Winter off from the rest of Pixie Hollow isn’t an option. If I can save more fairies, then I have to try.”

Artemis looked more conflicted than Clarion had ever seen her. With unmistakable fondness, she said, “You always have been so stubborn.”

Hope sparked within her. “Then you’ll let me go?”

“I shouldn’t—for your own good. I am no stranger to what happens when someone leads with their heart over their head.” Artemis smiled ruefully, as if lost in some reverie. “Queen Elvina and Commander Nightshade gave me a second chance by appointing me the royal guard. If any harm befell you, I don’t know what it would cost me.”

It surprised Clarion, both Artemis’s vulnerability and her confession. Artemis had been such a steady presence, it shocked her to realize that she’d had a life before Clarion even arrived. There were things about her she did not know—and might never know. “I can’t imagine you ever leading with your heart.”

“That was a long time ago,” said Artemis.

When she looked up at Clarion again, her stoic façade was back in place. But just for a moment, Clarion had truly seen her. It all but confirmed what Clarion had long suspected. Artemis had not chosen this: the cosseted life of a queen-in-training’s personal guard. How many times had Clarion caught her staring longingly after patrols? How many times had she caught her whittling her already-sharp blade for a battle that would never come? Indeed, the mostaliveClarion had ever seen her was when she shoved her out of the way of that beast.