CHAPTER 9

All I could do was listen as inhuman screams filled the living room beyond the closed door. The noise was terrible. A symphony of horror and dread which made my skin crawl. My conscience screamed for me to help Althea, but Erix guarded the door, stopping anyone or anything from entering as much as he kept me from leaving.

Amongst the sounds, I tried to locate Althea, but it proved impossible over the thudding, crashing and smashing that occurred within the room.

"We have to help her," I stuttered, finding it hard to speak over the turmoil of pressure in my chest.

Erix was as silent as a statue and equally unmoving, showing no signs of racing forward to help with whatever was happening between Althea and the gryvern.

When he finally replied, it didn't help the burning desire to ignore the command and run back for Althea. "The only thing that needs help is the monster stupid enough to attack. Althea will be fine. It would be a far graver mistake to underestimate her. And she gave me my command, one I take seriously."

A small, gargled shout of terror burst from me as something heavy thudded into the doors. Even Erix flinched, lifting the steady sword higher before him as though the doors would soon be ripped free from their hinges.

My heart thundered in my chest, ribs hardly able to contain it. Discomfort was my friend, a building of pressure that clawed itself up my throat, ready to burst free across the room.

It was Erix who startled next when a long blade sliced through the wooden door like a knife through melted butter. He stepped back, waving for me to keep away as a spreading of obsidian blood dripped from the blade's tip. The silver of the steel seemed to repel the gore, for it hardly left a smudge, only staining the white wood of the door where it dribbled into a puddle onto the floor.

He looked at me with his eyes full of confidence. "What did I tell you?"

There wasn't any more screeching or screaming. And it was clear that the gryvern pinned between the door and the blade was dead. Or dying – like a butterfly pinned to a corkboard.

The door swung wide, exposing Althea, who looked unharmed and unbothered, only a strand of red hair covered her gaze, which she blew away with one great huff. A splatter of dark gore was plastered over her tunic and skirt, but it didn't belong to her.

"The rest of the gryvern are retreating," she explained, breathless. I hardly took notice of her as I stared at the creature before me. It was, in fact, dying, but the blade that had pierced through its skinless neck kept it from making much noise. Thick, oily black blood popped and bubbled from the wound. Grey-leathered wings hung limp at its side, its unnaturally long fingers and thin bent legs spasmed like a fish out of water.

And the stench that reached me almost had me doubling over with my hands on my knees. It was rotten, the sweet and sickly smell of death, as if the creature before me represented it, even without the sword piercing its neck.

Holding a hand to my nose, I struggled to breathe, eyes watering and pain clenching my stomach.

This… this thing would fill my nightmares for a long while, that I was confident about. Not only because of the dark blood or grotesque figure, but because there was something so honestly… human about the creature. Looking at the gryvern, ignoring the wings and horns, it could've been someone I knew. With features familiar, round ears and the shadows of a nose, mouth and hollowed spaces for eyes. It was just stretched and long and wrong. So very wrong.

"Robin, are you okay?" Erix stood before me and the dying creature, blocking my view.

What kind of question was that?

"No," I barked, blinking rapidly to rid the image from my mind. Commotion before the living room told me those fey warriors who'd been missing had suddenly entered, assessing the damage.

"Where were you?" Erix demanded, his fury laced in his tone.

"There was another attack in the north wing," one of the guard's replied, fumbling nervously over his words. "Our order is to protect Lady Kelsey–"

Erix didn't let them finish. Fury radiated from every pour. He stood rigid, an air of danger lingering in the pinch of his mouth, and the furrow of his brow. "I want guards stationed alongside Robin at all times."

"But sir–"

"At – all – times."

My chest warmed at the way Erix spoke for me. Part of me wanted to say I'd deal with this alone, but there was something oddly comforting in having a stranger looking out for me. And then I saw why. Because I finally got a good look at the damage, and it was bad . The window was now a gaping hole of stone and shattered glass, leading out to Aurelia. Dustings of gold leaves fell like snow beyond it, dancing in the light wind that now filled the room.

"Erix, take it easy," Althea added, her hesitant stare speaking a thousand words. Like the guards, she was frightened of him. Or of what he could do.

There was something terrifying about the silent stillness of Erix's demeanour. I might not have known him well, but that didn't stop me from reaching out and laying a hand on his arm. "I'm fine – everything is fine."

"But you might not have been," Erix replied, eyes flicking to me as he slowly broke out of whatever rage-induced trance he'd found himself in.

"Look at me," I found myself saying, which was stupid, because all Erix was doing was looking at me. "I'm safe."

"It won't happen again," he replied, voice low and calm. "I can assure you."

"Would one of you care to explain what exactly has happened?" I asked no one in particular. Althea broke away from a hushed conversation with a fey warrior. "They were here for me… Erix said as much, but why? If this is the type of danger that dwells on this side of the Wychwood border…"

"Then what?" she asked, gaze narrowing. "You would have returned to your father and the mundane, normal, likely boring life you have left behind? You do not understand what you have exposed, using your abilities in front of so many. The gryvern would have come for you either here or back in whatever dwelling you found yourself in. At least with us, you have come away in one piece. I do not imagine the outcome would have been the same if you were not so protected." Althea spoke with furious speed, hardly stopping for a breath. "So, I think what you meant to say was thank you . Thank you for saving my arse and damaging a very expensive room!"

Defence bubbled within me, but there was something about her demeanour that had me thinking carefully about my reply.

"Thank you," I started, highly aware that it was not what I wanted to say, but it was what I needed to say. "But you must understand that I've got no idea what's going on here. Any of this. I'm thanking you for saving my life for reasons unbeknownst to me. But that makes giving thanks slightly difficult."

Althea paused, lips pursing as she regarded me from the ground up. "I was certainly hoping we would have had more time before news of your return spread, but it would seem that was wishful thinking." Her expression melted into something softer, but I was not fooled, for I still caught the sharp edges she hid – powerful and regal edges for someone with clear authority. "The gryvern are like bloodhounds, fixated on a target and not satisfied until their target is eliminated. You, Robin, you are why they came. Likely why they will return shortly to attempt to kill you again. And again, until their appetite is sated."

"Why?" I muttered, aware of how still the creature had grown behind me. The gargling and spluttering had ceased, and its body stiffened as true death took hold of it. "Please, help me understand what I'm facing."

Althea drank me in, the sadness creeping back into her green-brown eyes.

"Everyone out," Althea commanded to the room, authority rippling from her in powerful waves. Those two words were all that was required for the many fey to leave, Erix included, who paused as though wishing the command was not for him. Althea simply signalled with a gaze that he was not required, and he left with a bowed head. "Erix, see that fresh food and water is brought to us."

"I'm not hungry." I mean, how could I possibly be? But one sharp look from Althea and it was clear that ‘being hungry' wasn't an option.

"I suggest you have a drink or eat something whilst we discuss, well, you. But it would seem the uninvited guests have ruined the options."

I followed her stare to the table that was smashed into pieces. Among the rubble, I made out the mounds of cakes and pastries, but they were covered in glass and debris.

It took a moment for the room to empty. This time I knew the guards wouldn't leave the corridor again, not for fear of Erix's wrath. Once the door was closed, Althea settled her eyes on me and that sadness had only intensified.

"What do you know of your mother?" Althea asked, breaking the silence of the ruined room.

"Not a lot," I replied, pulling a face at her reference. "Sorry, it's odd hearing someone actually refer to her as my mother."

"If there is another title you would prefer I used..."

I couldn't ignore the cold expression that clung to her beautiful, deadly face. It was as though she fought hard not to express it, but her eyes gave view to the emotion that swirled deep within her.

"Mother is fine," I said with a pathetic smile.

Althea waved her hand, encouraging me to actually answer her question.

"Truthfully, I hardly remember her. What I can, only comes in pieces," I admitted, knowing it was the first time I'd said such aloud before, to anyone beyond Father, at least. "I know she is fey, and that was the reason she never came back for me. My father once told me that there was a time she stayed with us, but I was only a baby. By the time she left, I wouldn't have had the ability to remember her."

Althea winced. "Do you even remember her name? Where she came from? Did you not care to ask?"

Infuriation as a result of her accusations riled through me, urging that closed box in my chest to jiggle slightly. I wanted to snap at her again. "Of course I asked."

I didn't want or care to explain it further, and Althea could sense that as she moved the conversation onto a different path.

"I only ever met her once." Althea looked to an unimportant place on the wall, not at me. "Your mother, I mean. I was young, and it was many years ago, but her face, your face, is one I could never forget. Even if you didn't reveal your magic, my people would be fools to ignore how closely you resemble her. Dark hair and equally black eyes – the physical traits of an Icethorn. When I was younger, I never could understand how they glowed both black and blue, as though her eyes did not care to choose a single colour."

My heart swelled at her comments, so much so that I almost raised a hand and touched my own face in disbelief at what she said. But dread crept up my neck like the scratching of a clawed hand; the feeling was so real I thought, for a moment, that the gryvern had come back to life and reached to touch me.

"When you speak about my mother, it's in the past tense."

I hoped she'd tell me she'd been wrong to use certain words.

She didn't.

"Robin, I am so sorry." Althea's eyes filled with tears, and my chest cracked wide before she spoke further. "It was not intended to tell you this. Not like this… but it is clear you know little of the fey's history." There was a great and terrible pause as I waited for my dreaded fear to be made a reality. "Your mother was killed years ago, alongside her husband and children, and it has been long believed that the Icethorn Court would never be reclaimed by the royal bloodline… Until you."

I wasn't unfamiliar with grief. It was a feeling that troubled me when I was old enough to name the pain. It was a horrible, twisting sensation my heart felt when I saw other children with their mothers. It always found a way to internally devour me. Even over the years, when I glanced at the bracelet she'd left for me, I'd contemplated ripping it off, throwing it far into the belly of a lake or fire, anything to break the ties to the woman who'd left me. Left us. I grieved her, the idea of her. But even in that feeling, there was hope buried beneath it.

Having grief towards the living was only the tip of a blade in my heart. Knowing that she was dead felt as though that blade had finally been buried to the hilt within me.

The cracking in my chest turned into a deep, dark split that carved across the lid of building pressure. The box didn't simply open. It was ripped in two by the revelation exposed between us.

Magic exploded beyond me. An intense chill filled the air. It whipped at my skin, snatching tears from my cheeks.

Althea was speaking, repeating two words over and over. But I couldn't hear her, or make sense of what she said from the movement of her lips. A storm of power filled my head and threatened to smash my skull beneath the unwanted pressure. Ice crept from beneath my feet, oozing from me and spreading across the floor. Even the air seemed to harden around me, thickening in clouds of mist that whirled across the room.

I thought the gryvern had ruined the room, but I would tear it apart brick by brick.

I clamped my eyes shut, squeezing them so tight as I willed the image of my mother to fill my mind.

A flash of dark black hair. The melody of her soft, calming voice. Her featureless face, one I'd wished to put together like the pieces of a puzzle. Now those pieces would never be reachable. Just when I had believed there was a chance to see her, even if she didn't wish to see me, it was taken away like a toy from a child.

The worst feeling of all was the small, relentless possibility that she'd never come for me because she'd been dead all along. Not because she didn't want to see me, but because the choice was taken from her. And that didn't only create more sadness. No. It fuelled a storm of desperate anger which materialised in a power around me.

Winter. Pure, destructive winter devoured the room.

It coated the walls in jagged spears of ice, causing icicles with deadly points to drip from the ceiling. I'd lost track of Althea but cared little as the storm of grief took hold of me. In truth, there wasn't much room for thinking – only feeling.

And I felt it all.

Years of buried emotions exploded from me in power that was strange to me. A power that seemed to be endless now that it was completely out of its box. A power that I never believed possible. I didn't control it – it controlled me. And I would never be able to put away again.

A sudden flare of light and heat ahead of me pulsed to life. I flinched as I saw the flicker among the shadows of the storm that rushed between me and where Althea had stood.

Another flash and I felt heat singe my skin. It warmed the flesh of my arms, jaw and chest. It was close now, a rose of orange and ruby that danced between two delicate hands.

Althea stepped forward against the wind, skin paled and hair whipping in strong gusts. She lowered her head against the waves of power, body leaning forward as she fought to be closer. And that rose – the bud of warmth and light – pulsed between her hands.

Fire .

"Robin, you have to – calm – down." Althea struggled, her cheeks and nose a horrible red, a coating of ice spreading across her eyebrows. "If you do not, you will hurt a lot of people."

It was as though I listened from a dark cavern at the back of my mind. Her voice was an echo as I watched her fight against the force that rolled from my very being. But it never let up.

She spread her hands wider, encouraging the fire between them to grow and spread in an orb that floated above her palm. The heat was… welcome. It soothed my skin and mind.

"I understand your pain." She winced, forcing more of herself into the fire she commanded. But her power, unlike mine, seemed limited. I couldn't explain the feeling, but I'd never been more sure of something. It was as though I could see the leash that connected her to it. Whereas my power, this part of me, was without a leash and collar.

It was free.

"I understand, but you must calm yourself. Breathe, focus on breathing, and it will get better. Lighter."

Anger quickly melted into panic, a barrelling realisation that I had no control, and that was a feeling I didn't like.

The change in my own emotions only seemed to fuel the power to grow stronger. Althea's voice lost all its soft, calm tones as she commanded me this time. "Stop now." The glow of fire between her hands darkened, and it conjured shadows to dance across the lower part of her face. It made her cheekbones stand out like horns, and her eyes morphed into dark pits like that of the gryvern. "Or I will stop you myself, and I really don't want to hurt you, Robin. Trust me."

I focused on her eyes and tried to do as she said. Breathing deep, in and out, I focused on calling in the power to the barren, broken box in my chest where I tried to put it back. In my mind, I imagined it like threads, glowing silver as I tugged them back and stuffed them into the box.

Time seemed to go on as I focused, urged by the intensifying heat of Althea and her commanding power. I'd pinched my eyes closed, unsure if it was working, until her voice became clearer and the warmth of her flame stronger.

"Good… keep breathing, and you will be alright," she sang. Although she was close to me in age, as she spoke, I felt as though she was an older sister; at least, that was what I imagined this supporting aura felt like.

When I opened my eyes, I was confident that control was back in my grasp. Cold wind no longer ripped wildly through the room. My breath didn't fog with each hulking exhale. And I felt warmer, not entirely, but enough for the panic to subside.

Furniture had been blown against the outer walls of the room. The elaborate wallpaper was hidden beneath a layer of ice, the floor coated in frost and snow.

"I didn't mean to–" I started but was silenced by Althea as she threw her arms around me. For a moment, I expected to feel the burn of fire, but that had extinguished alongside my own power. Instead, her arms tightened, holding me close as her scent of sun-warmed cedar and roasted nuts over a crackling bonfire enveloped me.

"Do not apologise," she whispered, her hold strong. It felt silly to stand here with my arms by my side but equally wrong to return the hug. "It has been a long day and one full of answers I realise you never expected to uncover." She pulled back, holding me at arm's reach as she studied me intently. "I think we should find you a new room and allow you to get some rest. Burn-out can be terrible to a fey's body. And I can't promise that tomorrow will not be an equally tumultuous day."

My heart beat in my throat, the symphony broken and fleeting.

"I never got to see her…" I murmured, almost admiring the destruction I had caused around me. It should have unnerved me, this strange power, but it was likely the only thing that felt right to me. "I'd allowed myself to forget it was ever a possibility, and now I feel like a fool for daring to wish it was."

"Never be afraid to wish, Robin," Althea said, expression hard but stare gentle. "Because many people in Wychwood also gave up wishing for Icethorn's return. But like both edges of a blade, one always seems more terrible than the other. I understand what I have told you seems like the sharper side, but to the people out in that city and beyond, you mean a lot more."

Erix forced his way into the room, ruining the moment as the door cracked over the ice-hardened floor and slammed into the wall. A few icicles broke from the ceiling and fell onto the ground, shattering into countless shards of diamond upon impact.

"I was gone for a few minutes–" He drank in the scene before him, settling his silver eyes on the pain written over my face. Sympathy flashed over him, lasting but a second. "Lady Kelsey will not be pleased to see that you have chosen to redecorate her room."

I still hadn't met this Lady Kelsey, not knowing her beyond being the owner of the manor. Truthfully, I didn't really care about what I'd done to the room. I cared that my mother was dead, and I'd never meet her.

And the underlying knowledge that someone had murdered her.

"The room was already fucked, Erix." Althea stood close to my side, warmth flooding from her very being. "My aunt will hardly mind. It gives her something to gossip about at court, and more reason to spend court's money to redecorate. She'll thank Robin, if anything."

"That she will," Erix said, studying the damage around him. I wondered if Althea noticed his smirk of approval as his eyes found me. He didn't ask me if I was alright, because the question would clearly be wasted. Instead, he settled his entire attention on me, lips parting as he added a final statement. "I have a feeling you are going to be a handful, little bird."