Page 89 of Wings of Starlight

Shooting her a grateful look, Artemis carefully lowered herself back into the rocking chair. She stretched out her leg, mindful not to jostle it. “The pain is manageable, and soon, they won’t have to stop me from escaping anymore.”

“No escaping,” Clarion chided. “That is an order, by the way. You need to heal.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Artemis smiled faintly. “If you’ll approve an exception, the healers have cleared me to go to your coronation. A queen should not be without her guard.”

“I do approve, of course.” Clarion frowned. “But I think you’ve more than earned a different post. After I’m crowned, I’m happy to reassign you to—”

“With all due respect,” Artemis interjected, “I am happy with my post. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep it.”

“You want to stay on my guard?” Clarion asked incredulously. “I thought you wanted to return to patrolling.”

“I did.” Misinterpreting her disbelief as resistance, Artemis hastened to add: “Of course, if you feel I would be better suited elsewhere…”

“It’s not that,” Clarion replied. She had been fully prepared to let Artemis go, but she couldn’t deny that, deep down, she’d hoped for this. After so many years together, she hardly knew what she would do without Artemis. “I’m only curious what brought on this sudden change of heart.”

“I used to believe that serving as your guard was my atonement. Perhaps even a punishment.” Artemis’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “That regaining my position was the only way I could make a difference in Pixie Hollow. Over the past few days, I’ve come to doubt that my intentions were so pure. Since my reassignment, I’ve felt there was something I needed to prove.”

“There is nothing you need to prove, Artemis,” Clarion said gently. “I’ve always believed you are among the noblest of fairies in Pixie Hollow.”

“I am glad you think so.” Artemis tapped her staff against the ground pensively. “If I went back, I would have to quash that part of myself you say you admire. For many years, I’ve tried to do so. But seeing what you did…”

She trailed off, clearly searching for the right words. Clarion warmed under the reverent intensity of her gaze.

“I believe in you,” Artemis said. “Your strength. Your kindness. Your vision. Protecting someone like you is a worthy use of my talent.”

Oh, Clarion would get maudlin if she kept this up. Teasingly, she asked, “Are you saying you would miss me?”

“I’m saying I don’t trust anyone else to be your guard,” Artemis countered. Clarion took pleasure in the fact she didn’tdenyher accusation. “With your temperament, it’s a more difficult job than one might expect. Even I have not been performing to my own standards recently.”

Artemis eyed her. Although she would never say it aloud, Clarion read her meaning plainly:You look terrible.

Clarion couldn’t help laughing. There was no arguing with that. Both of them were certainly worse for wear after the events of the last few days.

“Well,” she said, “I’d gladly have you. I’d miss you, too, you know.”

“Good,” Artemis said gruffly. “This injury will not keep me from serving you.”

“I have no doubts.” Clarion beamed at her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on everyone inside.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Artemis bowed her head. She hesitated, as though uncertain of her next words. At last, she said, “The last I checked, the tinker hadn’t awakened. When she does…”

Clarion squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as she walked past. “You’ll be the first to know.”

Artemis’s soft “thank you” followed her into the clinic.

The air was redolent with the familiar smell of healing herbs: chamomile, marshmallow root, nettle. As the door clicked shut behind her, it occurred to her that she could hear voices—and laughter—spilling into the atrium. Clarion did not think she had ever heard it so loud in here. For the first time in weeks, the mood was almost…joyful. Buoyed by the energy, she hurried past the curtain of hanging succulents that cordoned off the sickroom.

It waspacked.

Clarion could not help her delighted astonishment. Fairies had piled in with flower arrangements and pots of soup and, of course, the latest gossip. The fairies who had awoken had veritable crowds around their beds. Some chattered and laughed, ready to resume their normal lives. Others wept. Others held their friends close as they emerged from their tormented dreams.

All of them were completely surrounded by love.

So absorbed were they in their reunions, no one noticed her in the doorway—no one but Elvina, who hovered at the back of the room alongside a healer. The queen gave her a gentle smile before jerking her chin toward a cot in the corner.

She’s over there,she seemed to say.

Clarion wasted no time in rushing to where Petra lay in her cot. Her red hair was splayed out neatly against the pillow, the curls glossy and perfect as they never were in her day-to-day life. Someone had clearly combed it out and twisted it into ringlets. Tidiness really didn’t suit Petra. Clarion smiled, overcome by the affection that welled up within her.