Chapter 4: Ice and Fire

“Zane, do you recognize that woman?” Skylar asked, nodding towards a short, curvy auburn-haired fae. She was middle-aged with brown eyes and subtle waves in her hair.

“Yes, she looks like an autumn fae,” Zane said, chuckling.

Skylar groaned. “That’s cute. I know I’ve seen her before.”

“The last time you came to Autumn Forest was fifteen years ago. You were only eight years old. Maybe you just think you recognize her,” Zane offered with a shrug.

“Perhaps,” Skylar muttered. It was more than that. He knew it was. When he’d been in Autumn Forest, it had been to observe Malus’s conquest. He hadn’t been allowed to fight, but he’d been able to watch everything.

He’d seen the Autumn Court perform their sacrificial spell, the flames that scorched them and then banished the snow army from the rest of the kingdoms. Digging through that memory, Skylar was sure he’d seen the short, squat autumn fae woman before.

“I’m going to talk to her,” Skylar said.

“Sky, no!” Zane whisper-shouted, grabbing Skylar’s arm.

Skylar shook him off and stepped out from behind the tree. “Keep searching the surrounding area.”

“Fine! Watch your back. If the Leaf Princess is anywhere around here, you know she’ll be able to smoke you, literally,” Zane warned.

“You really doubt my abilities?” Skylar asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over his shoulder at his friend.

“No, but she’d be about eighteen by now, fully grown into her powers. Need I remind you that fire is in direct opposition with ice,” the general pointed out.

Skylar pursed his lips then frowned. “Cold can still put out a fire.”

“Have you forgotten that her bloodline was powerful enough to cast a barrier across three kingdoms? Sky, that is raw power that no other fae royal line can match,” Zane said, narrowing his eyes.

Skylar sighed. The general was right. “I’ll watch my back. You find the princess.” He waved the general away.

Skylar tapped the butt of his staff against his boots, knocking loose dirt that had caked onto the spikes on the soles, boots that were designed to traverse ice, snow, and rock, not mud, moss, and dirt. He walked towards the older autumn fae, who was crouched down in her garden.

“Excuse me,” he said to get her attention.

“Oh,” the woman said, tensing visibly. She rose to her feet and faced Skylar.

He watched the blood drain from her face, her hands trembling around the trowel she held. Her golden wings fluttered rapidly, buzzing like insect wings. Skylar looked into her brown eyes, imagining her younger. He did recognize her. She’d been at the forest house when Autumn Court sacrificed themselves, a servant to the former queen.

“I know you,” Skylar said.

“I don’t know you,” the woman said tersely, her eyes narrowing.

“You never saw me, but I saw you. A servant to the Leaf Queen, eighteen years ago,” Skylar stated bluntly.

“So much for small talk, then,” the woman said, smiling dryly. She tossed the trowel aside.

“I’m not here to make friends,” Skylar pointed out. He tapped his fingers around the circumference of his staff, pointing obviously towards the large, blue ice stone snuggly curled between carved wooden vines.

“Well, then, please come in,” the woman said curtly. She headed inside her home, a hollowed-out tree trunk.

Skylar had heard of the living houses the autumn fae built inside trees, but he had never been in one. He followed the older fae inside. The house was warm and cozy, the scent of fresh baking bread swirling around. Candles were lit around the circular walls and a winding staircase led to the levels above.

The autumn fae hummed as she bustled around the kitchen, leaving Skylar to snoop. He noted that the dining table had two chairs and two place settings. Either she was expecting company, or someone else lived there. The living room had two chairs and one couch, and a fireplace. He wondered how it was possible to burn a fire inside the walls of a living tree. A question for another day.

One of the chairs had a set of knitting needles and a partially completed knitting project across the armchair. The cushion was slightly indented. One of the couch cushions shared a similar indentation, but there were books and scrolls on the closest end table, books that Skylar could not imagine a middle-aged fae enjoying.

He lifted the cover of one of the books, a single name scrawled on the inside cover – Illyra. Skylar let the cover drop and he tapped his finger against it. Someone else lived in the house with this woman, but there were no family portraits on the walls and no personal objects besides the books.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the autumn fae asked, returning with a tray of sweet rolls, fresh pastries, and glasses of fresh fruit juice.

Skylar wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was such an Autumn Forest snack to offer. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“You’re not here to make friends and you’re not here to taste my cooking. What is it you are here for?” she asked pointedly. She set the tray down.

“You know why I’m here,” Skylar said, smirking.

“Then you also know I will never give you what you seek,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Still smirking, Skylar rolled his staff back and forth in his hand. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Skylar blew a frozen breath at the autumn fae. The ice crystals from his breath locked together making a chain.

The older woman gasped and stepped back, but the chain wove around her ankles and anchored her to the floor. Skylar pressed the ice stone on his staff to the fae’s feet, cold powerful enough to freeze her in place.

The autumn fae groaned, her skin turning blue from the cold.

“When the ice in your veins spreads to your lungs, you’ll stop breathing. When it hits your heart, you’ll be nothing but an ice statue,” he threatened.

“Then I will die knowing you’ll never get your answers,” she argued. Her face contorted in pain and she groaned, doubling over.

Skylar growled, raising his staff. The ice spread to her knees and thighs, turning her legs blue, ice crystals frosting her skin. “Tell me where the Leaf Princess is!”

“I won’t,” the woman gasped, her breath coming out a frozen cloud.

“You’re not going to survive much longer,” Skylar warned. “Tell me what I want, and I’ll reverse the effects.”

“Have you forgotten that autumn fae prefer sacrificing themselves to giving in to terrorist demands?” she asked, laughing. Her laugh choked off and she coughed, more puffs of cold air. At this rate, she’d be dead before the ice reached her lungs.

“Terrorist?” Skylar balked, the staff slipping in his hands. He gritted his teeth and pulled the staff up to her abdomen.

The autumn fae coughed, but her breath wasn’t a cloud anymore. The blue veins on her skin receded down her legs. Skylar creased his brow and examined his staff. Magic still pulsed within it.

“What…?”

The ice chain on the older woman’s ankles snapped and melted into a puddle. Even with her elemental powers, a woman of her bloodline wouldn’t have the power to subvert his magic.

“Get away from her!”

Skylar whipped around, his long, white hair a curtain shielding his eyes before it settled around him. Another autumn fae stood in the doorway, her fingers encased in flames, red curls whipped around her in an invisible, heated wind. Her golden eyes narrow with unmistakable purple, leaf marks around them. The Leaf Princess.