"You can't escape it, Marissa." His voice was rasping in my ear. "Listen to your dying heart. Can you feel it beating? Slowly, but surely, it will stop like hands on a clock. The darkness will consume you. You can fight, little knight, but you cannot win."
I could feel his reeking breath washing over my face. I clenched my fists, shoving down a whimper.
"Stop." I whispered.
"Count your breaths. How many will it take until they run out entirely?"
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Hurtling closer to the end.
He inhaled. "Oh yes, little knight. I can smell it all over you. The fear. Remember what I told you? Magic can only conquer so much, you know. But not the fear. It lingers in the shadows of your mind, gnawing at your insides with merciless diligence. I can hear it scurrying through your blood."
The mask of iron loomed in front of me like the face of the devil.
"Death, Marissa." His voice dropped lower into a deep rumble. "You fear it, don't you?"
I bit my lip, my body trembling as I shook my head.
"Say it." He hissed.
"Never."
"You're dead already; your soul is being slowly lowered into your coffin as we speak. How does it feel, Marissa, to know that you'll be rotting in your own grave with nothing but maggots to keep you company as your flesh withers and dies?"
His face blinked into pitch black, the gleam of his iron armor swallowed in a hole of darkness.
"Hey!" I cried.
Instead of words, I felt dirt stream into my mouth and nose and choke my throat. I spat it out, desperately trying to scrape it away from me. My nails connected with wood above me, scratching against the surface that confined me in darkness.
I was trapped in the earth.
I screamed, hot whips of panic lashing against my body. My eyes were pressed shut, I couldn't breathe, and I was buried so deep that no one could hear my panicked, muffled sobs. Frantically, I clawed at the inside of my grave. I pleaded for someone, anyone, to save me. I was helpless.
Cold earth caked my face, my arms, my fingers. Odors of rot stifled my senses.
"Are you ready to say it now, Marissa?"
His voice was everywhere.
I gagged and gasped, pounding against the wood that held me caged in my doom.
"Stop!" I cried. "Stop it!"
"Not until you admit it, Marissa." He replied, his voice deep and coaxing.
Then, I felt scuttling against my bare skin. I whimpered as crawling, withering insects coated by body. They covered every inch of me, buzzing into my ears and my nose. The dirt, the desperation, the beetles and maggots all ripped screams of terror out of my lungs.
I screamed and screamed, sobbing where no one would ever hear me. It was torture. It was agony. It was hell.
"I'm afraid!" I cried as more dirt flooded into my mouth. "I'm afraid to die!"
My cries were hoarse and trembling, lies that jolted me awake. I sat up in the snow bank, my chest heaving as my heart galloped in my chest.
The sky above my head was spilling over in a magnificent sunrise, swirling colors that swept over me in a pink dawn. The trees of the Grimwood gently cradled their dying branches in the breeze as snowflakes lightly danced in the air.
I clutched my chest, the rhythm of my cursed heart beating in my ears like a funeral drum. My cheeks were salty with tears, and I wiped away the wet blotches on my face, taking steadying breaths.
It wasn't real. It wasn't real.
"Nightmares?"
My hand whipped to my ice sword sheathed at me side. I turned my head around to see Andrion seated on a fallen log beside me. I relaxed slightly, sagging with relief.
His long, dark hair lifted and fell across his pointed ears as he gave me a sympathetic smile. His transparent, ghostly form flickered in the daylight.
I nodded silently, forcing a smile as I tried to wipe away the sensation of dirt and insects on my skin. I could still feel the legs of beetles creeping up my back.
Andrion rose from the log and seated himself in the snow beside me.
"Eat this." he said, handing me a strip of raw meat and a handful of wild berries.
I thanked him, gratefully biting into the food. As I ate, I listened to the calls of the birds, letting their merry songs calm my roaring pulse. I leaned back in the snow and closed my eyes.
"You know," Andrion murmured, breaking the silence. "Being afraid to die does not make you weak, Marissa."
My eyes snapped open, locking onto the ghost's face. "What?"
He smiled knowingly. "You talk in your sleep. Very loudly, in fact."
I felt my cheeks burn with shame. Andrion chuckled warmly at the sight.
"Do not let your fear embarrass you." He told me. "Yes, it is powerful, but it is also a part of you. Fear can even become your strength when you need it the most."
I looked over at Glen and Diandre who were still peacefully sleeping a few feet away, lightly coated in frost.
"I don't want to lose them." I whispered. "I don't want to lose anyone. My people, my home..." I trailed off, staring at the Grimwood surrounding us. "If I fail, if I can't stop this uprising, everything I know will be destroyed. If the sprites find the Winter Wand before we do, countless people will die." I could feel my body shaking with small tremors that vibrated up and down.
"There's something that I've learned from watching the earth's creatures for decades." Andrion mused. "And I think you may understand. No one leaves this world without a fight. No one wants to let go. And I think that it is that small speck of humanity that drives us into battle. To die if we have to. Oona had taught me that lesson most of all."
His eyes became cloudy and distant as he visited someplace far away from my reach.
"It is true that blood falls in the blind grapple for power." Andrion continued. "But power, Marissa, does not come in the form of objects that you can wield in your hands.It is not a wand. It is not a scepter. It is something that you need to find inside your own person. Some never do. It is that strength inside that will force the fae to overcome the darkness. Your people will not give in as easily as you think. They will fight once they see that their lives will be taken from them if they don't. Everything will be taken from them if they don't. Everyone fights, Marissa. Not because they are warriors, but to preserve what they have. They will live to preserve this until their very last breath."
I stiffened beside Andrion, and the birds above us fell eerily silent.
All this time, I had become obsessed with finding the objects of power, thinking that they were the only thing that stood between salvation and destruction. But maybe Andrion had just proved me wrong.
"Andrion," I said quietly, gazing at the snow beneath us as I nibbled on berries that spurted red juice. "What was it like....to die?"
I became aware that the juice oozing through my fingers looked like blood.
The woodland spirit took a deep breath beside me. His presence filled the air with a bitter cold, but I paid no attention to the frigid aura surrounding us.
"There is no pain in death, Marissa." He replied softly. A small smile surfaced on his lips. "Not if you know the trick to it."
"The trick?" I echoed, confused.
Andrion nodded. "When you die, death shows your entire life to you. You can see the events in motion before your eyes. But it's your choice on which memories you choose to hold on to. You can see every ounce of anger, joy, sadness, and fear that you've ever felt when you were living. But death only lets you keep what means the most to you."
He met my gaze head on, his eyes unwavering.
"Always choose the most strong memories that you can." Andrion told me. "The memories that make you who you are. The beautiful, the tragic. When you possess those, death never truly wins."
I let out a humorless laugh. "Doesn't death always win?"
Andrion smiled. "Not always. When my spirit left my body, I came to a simple crossroad. To my right, I saw the most beautiful meadow blooming with everwhite flowers. There was so much laughter and warmth, I could have sworn that it was heaven."
I could practically smell the vibrant scents of spring and hear the giggling calls of joyful strangers.
"But there was another road." Andrion continued. "To my left, one that was long and cold. It was dark, abandoned, and desolate. I knew in my gut that it would take me back. Back to earth. No one in their right mind would ever choose that path. But I did. And can you guess why?"
I could. But I stayed silent, my words frozen behind my lips.
"I heard her voice. Oona's. Calling to me in the distance." Andrion's smile twitched like a flickering dream. "And that's when I figured it all out. I didn't need that damn heaven. I had already found it long before. She had given it to me. And I needed to seek it out one last time." He tilted his head up at the morning sky. "One last time." He repeated again.
I understood now. I understood why Andrion had left everlasting happiness behind in a cloud of distant smoke. He didn't need it.
The woodland spirit rose from his seat next to me and crossed the clearing. As I watched him move, he didn't seem like a ghost to me at all.
"Time to wake up," Andrion chuckled at Glen and Diandre.
Diandre jerked awake immediately, shivering at the ghost's cold aura that washed over him. Glen, on the other hand, didn't even stir.
I pushed myself to my feet with a snort and strolled to his side. As I drew closer, I noticed that Glen's face was surprisingly peaceful as he slept. All lines of mischief have vanished from his expression. It was look that I had never seen on him before. He looked almost...angelic. Almost.
I drew back my boot, and swung it towards him in a kick at his side. In an instant, Glen's hand snapped out and closed around my shoe before the kick even made contact. I had no time to react. The next thing I knew, Glen skillfully flipped me off balance and I crashed into the snow beside him in a heap of limbs.
"Dammit!" I swore, wiping strands of my hair out of my mouth.
I lay there, flat on my back as my lungs attempted to regain the wind that had been knocked out of them. I turned my head and found that Glen's face filled my entire vision.
"What was that for?" I wheezed to him.
His eyes blinked open, stunning and green as always.
"I wanted you to be the first thing that I woke up to." Glen grinned.
"You really need to work on your pick up lines, flower boy." I replied, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow.
The truth: My heart was hammering in my chest like a stampede.
Glen laughed, shaking snowflakes out of his auburn hair as he winked at me. "I can do better, partner."
"I doubt that."
Diandre's steely voice jerked my eyes up to him. He crossed his arms over his chest above us, protectively glowering down at Glen.
For a moment, the gesture reminded me of when Diandre and I were kids. When we first entered Winter Academy, we watched out for each other. We were a team. Always. And with that bond came a surge of over-protective feelings that would consume us in getting in more than a few sparring fights in the hallways.
Diandre reached down and swung me out of the snow, his hand strong and firm in mine.
Everything about Diandre was familiar; his smile, the scent he carried of firewood, even the way his eyes crinkled at the corners with laughter.
But Glen was like a whirlwind of complicated mystery. He was the daring unknown with his flashing smile and green eyes with bright light inside them that overshadowed the dark of his secrets.
Those two couldn't have been more different.
Andrion appeared beside us as Glen yawned and stood up.
"We should begin our journey," the woodland spirit suggested. "Mab's wolves retreated back to the palace a few hours ago. The bridge should be unguarded."
I nodded in agreement, picking up my fading bag and slinging it over my shoulder. The weapons inside it collided and clanked with muffled scraping noises.
"But first," Andrion added, sizing the three of us up and down. "You'll need disguises. In those human clothes you'll stand out like beacons to the creatures of the woods."
Diandre and Glen glanced down at their jeans.
"I suppose the ghost has a point," Glen sighed, snatching up The Summer Scepter. "It's time for a make-over."
Diandre and I shared a look of dread at Glen's devilish smirk.
"I'm honestly terrified that we're entrusting the prince with our outfits." He murmured to me.
"No kidding." I replied.
The tip of The Summer Scepter pulsed a vivid gold, and Glen shot a beam of light directly at Diandre. The force of the blow engulfed him in shining glitter, and I could only stand there in a dumbstruck silence.
"Bibbity, bobbity boo." Glen snorted, flourishing the scepter in his hands.
Once the sparkling particles cleared from the air, Diandre was wearing a dark huntsman's jacket, riding pants, and leather boots. A bow and a quiver of arrows were also strapped over his shoulder, sleek and unused. Diandre's jaw dropped as he admired his new clothes and weapon.
"You've got taste, your highness." He smiled at Glen.
Glen shrugged, his wings buzzing over his shoulders. "Personally, I envisioned a nice ball gown being more your style, but the enchantment didn't come in your size." He made a face of disappointment. "Pity."
Diandre rolled his eyes, striding towards Andrion who was keeping watch at the edge of the clearing.
"I should have known." He mumbled as he walked away.
Glen then turned to me. "It looks like you're next, partner." He leaned against the scepter, deep in thought. "I wonder what would look nice on you." After some consideration, I watched waves of devilish smugness surface on his face. "You know, all the guys at the Academies wondered what you'd look like in a bikini."
I tried to keep my cheeks from flaming as I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest.
"You try, you die." I snapped.
Glen laughed, unaffected by my death threat.
"I wouldn't mind having that be the last thing I'd ever see."
"I hate you."
The Summer Scepter ignited once more.
"I know," Glen smiled. "And that's what makes you like me so much."
Surges of glittering gold smashed against me, and I gasped as I was consumed in it. It seemed to swirl all around me, so bright that my eyes had to squint against the light. I felt the clothes on my body change and mold against my skin, melting and stretching until I felt them become fine silk that rustled and whispered into my ears.
I blinked as the light around me faded, staring down in awe at my beautiful blue skirt that swished above my knees. It was cut short, exposing my leather riding pants underneath. Daggers were strapped to my legs, gleaming and deadly as I fingered the fine material of my white blouse. A traveling cloak tickled my wings and danced in the wind.
It was perfect.
I gaped at Glen. "How did you know this was my favorite color?"
I ran the smooth material of the blue skirt through my fingers. Everything about this outfit felt as if it had been crafted for me; it fit my form to perfection.
Glen smiled, and I looked up to notice that he was now wearing hunter's robes that surrounded him in a billowing canopy of green.
"The blue matches your eyes." He responded, tucking his hands in his pockets.
"Are you finished yet?" Diandre called out. "If we don't hurry I think that Andrion's going to get himself killed. Again."
I chuckled, and Glen and I trailed behind Andrion and Diandre as we ventured deeper into The Grimwood and the morning light.
-----------------
It didn't take long for us the reach the troll bridge.
I could sense that we had arrived when the unshakable feeling of paranoia and blind fear lodged itself in my throat.
The screaming. I could still hear the screaming.
The snow was no longer darkened with blood, but glimmered brightly underneath our feet as we trudged towards the chasm. All of us had fallen silent.
Glen's face was filled with mild curiosity as he craned his neck towards the infinite, black drop below us. Diandre didn't speak, but I could see the years of regret and turmoil flashing behind his gray eyes.
Andrion looked grim as he gazed at our surroundings. I think that he could feel the memories of battle and bloodshed as well. It weighed heavy in the frosty silence.
I couldn't bring myself to go near the edge of the chasm. There was no sign that there had once been a bridge over that chasm, a bridge that snapped and plummeted in the dead of night. I froze a few steps away, the sound of cries and weapons still ringing in my memory. My feet didn't move.
"This was it." I whispered, staring down at the snowflakes collected beneath me.
Glen spun around from the edge of the dark void.
"Are you alright, partner?" He asked, his voice tinged with concern. There was something else different about how he spoke. His words were soft, as if they knew what horrors had occurred in this very place.
"My father," I replied. "This was where I watched..." I furiously ran the back of my hand along my eyes before finishing. "...This is where I watched him die."
Diandre stiffened a few feet away, and Andrion's face hardened gravely.
Glen's shoulder brushed against mine as he gazed down at the snow with me.
"Your father should be proud." He told me gently. "He should be proud to have had a daughter like you."
My smile wavered on my lips.
"Thank you." I replied. "I think he would have liked to meet you, Glen."
"What's not to like?" Glen joked.
I let out a hoarse laugh, and he smiled with something close to triumph.
"I never really had a father." He said, his face distant as he continued to watch the snow. "King Oberon died when I was too young to remember what he looked like." Glen looked saddened for a moment, but his expression was replaced with fondness. "My mother tells me that he was a great ruler. Ambitious, but got into a hell of a lot of trouble."
I couldn't help but snort at this.
Glen chuckled. "I wish I could have known him." All at once, his eyes darkened. "But one night there was an assassin that got into the main tower. They killed King Oberon in cold blood as he slept."
I vaguely remembered the horrible event; the entire kingdom was in mourning from the crushing loss of the king.
"My mother tried to catch the assassin, but they disappeared that night without a trace." Glen continued. "No one knew who it even was."
I could tell by the way his back was straightened, the way his head was bent against the wind, that Glen knew what the desire for vengeance tasted like. It was bitter, metallic, and consuming.
A feeling that burdened me always.
I opened my mouth to comfort him, but was interrupted by Andrion.
"It's time," the woodland spirit said, drifting over to us. "I cannot journey with you into the chasm, but I will be waiting when you return."
I nodded determinedly, summoning every ounce of strength I had. I walked forward until my toes dangled over the edge of the darkness. Far below me, somewhere, were the remains of my mother and brother. Mab's guards could never find their bodies for the funeral.
I sucked in a breath.
But my family was long gone now. Nothing I do can bring them back.
"I wish you the best of luck," Andrion called as Glen, Diandre and I stood together above the abyss. "And remember this: do not lose yourselves."
My heart raced and smashed against my ribs as
Diandre's hand tightened reassuringly on my shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"To save the world?" I replied. "Definitely."
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