Page 24 of Wings of Starlight

Maybe she could imagine a reckless version of Artemis, after all. She was not the sort of fairy who could let others risk their lives—especially not if she could take on the risk herself.

“No harm will befall me,” Clarion said softly. “I swear, I would never do anything intentionally to jeopardize your position.”

Artemis raked a hand through her hair and blew out a long sigh. “If you truly believe this is the better path forward, then I trust you.”

I trust you.How long she’d yearned to hear those words. She could hardly believe them, now that she had.

“I do,” Clarion said hastily, if only to keep the emotion out of her voice.

Artemis already looked as though she regretted it. “Go, then. If Her Majesty comes looking for you, I will give your excuses.”

Clarion grabbed her free hand and squeezed. “Thank you.”

Artemis stared down at their hands with an oddly flustered expression. Then, she extricated herself and rearranged her features back into a mask of professionalism. “Just be back before full dark.”

With only a few minutes until sunset, Clarion waited on the bridge that spanned Winter and Spring. She sat on the damp moss that carpeted the root, letting her feet dangle over the water. Her reflection stared up at her, haloed by the soft aura of her wings in the gloaming. Here, despite the danger the night promised, she felt almost at peace. With the quiet burbling of the river below her and the steady snowfall on the other side of the border, it was—

“You came.”

Clarion gasped, nearly toppling into the water.

When she recovered, she looked up to find Milori standing a few feet away from her. When had he gotten there? It was as though he’d appeared out of the snow itself. She opened her mouth to speak, but something about the soft surprise on his face stole away her words. She did not know if it offended her or endeared him to her. Then again, she supposed she’d given him no reason to expect her.

It occurred to her a moment too late that she was half-sprawled on the ground, staring slack-jawed up at him. It did not help matters that he looked almostprettyin the evening light. Snowflakes had gathered on his eyelashes and sparkled against his white hair so that he seemed to be gilded with frost. Clarion sincerely hoped the heat rising in her neck did not reach her face. To be caught so undignified…it would not do.

With a flutter of her wings, Clarion straightened to her full height and hovered off the ground. Primly, she dusted the grass off her skirts. “I did,” she said. Then, more gently: “It took longer than I thought it would. I had to find out how to make it here again.”

“Of course,” he said. “You did mention your obligations the last time we spoke.”

That wry edge returned to his voice. Clarion very much resented the implication. Whatever notions he had of Pixie Hollow’s royalty, she reallywasquite busy. “It hasn’t been easy. I’ve been kept under lock and key, and our new curfew complicates things.”

His expression softened with concern. “A curfew?”

“Yes. We were attacked.” It felt too insufficient of an explanation for what had happened. The memory of it made her stomach curdle with dread—and guilt. If only she’d been able to stop it. “Eleven fairies have fallen into some sort of slumber. Our healers are working on reviving them, but…”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded as though he meant it. Worse, he sounded as though he believed it was his fault. “A number of winter fairies have met the same fate. We haven’t been able to develop an antidote, either.”

A terrible somberness fell over him, and Clarion had to fight back the impulse to…what, exactly? She had no comfort to offer him. But if nothing else, she could understand him. There was little worse, she thought, than being helpless when others depended on you.

Clarion smiled ruefully. “Do you still think I can help you?”

“I do.” He hesitated. “I just didn’t think you would come back. Why did you?”

“Because I want to hear your plan.” She crossed her arms to ward off the chill that emanated from the border—and from the news she had to share. “Since no one knows how to destroy the monsters, Elvina intends to trap them in Winter. She’s going to sever the bridges that bind Winter to the other seasons. You’ll still have your supply of pixie dust, but…”

Milori went as pale as the snowbanks. It felt less isolating, she thought, to see someone react with the same horror she felt. A hundred emotions and thoughts passed over his face, but in the end, all he said was “You disagree with her?”

“Of course I do. I saw the monster myself.” When she closed her eyes, she could still see the Nightmare, like an afterimage seared into her mind. She might not have been plunged into sleep, but it still tormented her dreams. “I won’t leave you to deal with them alone. I wasn’t strong enough to protect anyone, but when my magic struck it…I don’t know what happened, exactly. It seemed almost afraid. Elvina forbade me from getting involved, but I refuse to let her go through with this if I’m capable of destroying them.”

“No one in Winter has been able to drive them back,” he said, almost wonderingly. “You really could be the key.”

The key.He would not say that if he knew just how little she’d mastered of governing-talent magic.

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced away. “The only other thing I can offer is that they’re called Nightmares. Elvina at least told me that much. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “I know what they are.”

Your predecessor has not been forthcoming with you,he’d told her.