Chapter 4

S now stood in front of her full-length mirror and stared at her reflection with dismay.

Her black hair hung loose down to her waist. She'd plaited a length on each side to frame her face in the elven way. Her lips were naturally rose colored and there was color high in her cheeks, due to the heat swarming through her.

And then there was the dress. The neckline that plunged downward toward her navel. The long sleeves. The form fitted bodice. The flared skirt. The silver swirls shimmered with every movement.

She was not the kind of girl who attended fancy balls or festivals looking for romance. She was the kind of girl who snuck out of her bedroom window in the dead of night. She was the kind of girl who spent an evening under the full moon visiting with forest sprites and tiny garden gnomes.

Lifting a hand, she held her right palm flat in front of her and closed her eyes. She imagined a length of vine with tiny pink flowers blooming along it, wrapping around her wrist and climbing its way up the length of her arm to her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, it was there. She smiled.

Then she used the same elemental magic to allow the floral vine to spread from her shoulder, across her bosom to the other side where it wound its way down to her left wrist. The floral vine was the perfect camouflage to hide the daring neckline she so disliked. She opted to leave her pedant on her dressing table for the evening.

A swift knock on her door startled her. Yirrie popped her head in. She started to say something then paused, her mouth forming a round o-shape as she peered at Snow from the doorway.

"What have you done?" she asked.

"Do you like it?" Snow held her arms out and did a slow turn.

"Snow, the vines—"

"Are perfect," she interrupted. The last thing she wanted was for Yirrie to insist she remove them. She plastered on a bright smile.

"But they hide the beauty of the dress." Yirrie pushed the door open wider and stepped in. She reached for Snow, prepared to pluck them away.

Snow batted her hand away and gave her a hard stare. She took a step back out of reach. "I like the vines and the flowers."

Elator popped into the doorway then, a small package in his hands. He peered, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Ah, Snow, you look lovely," he said.

"Elator, the vines are—"

"Perfect." He gave his wife a stern look. She clamped her mouth closed with a snap.

A small victory. Perhaps he had some understanding at how she felt in the revealing gown. Or perhaps he merely wanted to shush his wife's nagging about her appearance. Either way, Snow was grateful and grinned at Elator as he moved past Yirrie. He stepped into the room, holding the box out to her.

"For you," he said.

Snow took it, opened it and gasped when she saw the silver circlet resting on a bed of white satin. The scrollwork was delicate. Elator lifted it and placed it on her head. She turned to look at herself in the mirror and stared with appreciation at the lovely silver band. It dipped to a point on her forehead. For a moment, she belonged. The only difference between her and the others was her rounded ears.

"I love it," she whispered.

"Fit for a princess," he said.

Her heart skipped at that. She realized he was saying it as a thought of affection, but it still sent a shiver through her. He didn't know who she was, nor did she ever want him to know. She cut a glance to the pendant resting on her dressing table. The rose and crown symbol gleamed in the half light.

"Happy Springtide." He kissed her on the cheek, then took Yirrie by the elbow. "Now, come you two. It's time for the festival."

Snow paused a moment longer, giving herself a once over. Satisfied with the vines trailing over her, she smiled. Yirrie picked up a large basket loaded with her freshly baked bread and handed it to Elator. She picked up yet another basket full of her mini vegetable pies. Remnants of her baking frenzy still lingered in the kitchen, leaving it with a heady, earthy scent.

Snow followed them out into the early evening air. Even though winter was giving way to spring, there was still a chill in the air reminding her that though flowers bloomed, the frost could return.

Elves gathered under the twinkling lights of the trees. One of the Elders walked the length of a nearby table lighting every candle as she went. The evening air was redolent with honey beeswax—the scent of the candles—and the scent of fresh cut flowers. Laughter filtered through the village and somewhere in the distance, the sound of a lute followed by the soft lilting voice of an elf in song.

Snow paused at the edge of the table, watching as Elator and Yirrie melded with the growing crowd. Smiles were on their faces as they greeted their neighbors and friends. Yirrie took to placing her mini pies at every place setting until she ran out. Elator placed loaves of her fresh bread on the tables, going down the line until his basket was also empty.

"Hello, Snow."

The voice next to her made her jump and her heart kick into a rapid beat. She pressed her hand against her chest as she looked over to see Ardan standing next to her.

"Apologies. I did not mean to startle you."

"It's all right." She dropped her hand and tried very hard not to look at him.

Ardan was handsome. His pale blue eyes twinkled with starlight. His white hair was cropped in short layers that floated around his head, barely brushing the collar of his pale blue tunic with silver buttons. She didn't want to notice his perfect white pants tucked neatly into his shiny black boots. Nor did she want to notice how close he stood to her or how pleasant he smelled. Like patchouli. Spicy and sweet all rolled into one.

He clasped his hands in front of him and remained next to her in congenial silence. Still, it made her uncomfortable to have him standing so near. She shifted from one foot to the other, scanning the crowd and wondering when it was appropriate to make her escape.

"You look lovely this evening." He sounded unsure.

She cut him a glance. "Do I?"

Color rose in his pale cheeks. "You do."

His gaze wondered over her, pausing on the tiny flowers she'd conjured on the vines. He reached for one on her shoulder, his finger grazing the delicate petals. Her eyes met his, making her stomach flutter. All the surrounding noise dissipated. For a blissful moment it was only her and Ardan. And for that moment, she was lost in the depth of his dreamy eyes.

"Would you care to dance with me later?" he asked.

Oh, dear. She didn't know how to answer that without sounding rude. Yes, she most definitely wanted to dance with him later. But common sense told her to refuse.

"I—"

"There you are!"

The shrill voice rose, breaking into their intimate moment and shattering whatever magic was forming between them. It was his sister, Valda, charging toward them. Her gown was the same blue as his tunic with a high neck collar. She had the same pale blue eyes as he did and the same white hair, though hers was much longer and braided in an elaborate braid that crisscrossed the back of her head and then hung down in one long plait down her back. Disdain crossed her face as she glanced at Snow and then took her brother by the hand.

" Emya is looking for you." Emya was the elvish word for mother.

He gave her a sheepish glance as she led him away. "Bye, Snow."

So much for her dance with Ardan. She sighed. It was the way things were and she was used to it.

She watched as they melted into the crowd, talking and laughing with others their same age. They never invited Snow to join in. Valda glanced her way as she said something to the others, then they laughed. One of the girls hooked her arm with Ardan's. He gave her a surreptitious glance full apology.

The Elders called for them to gather at the tables. It was time to feast. Snow took her place between Elator and Yirrie in the middle. Ardan, his sister, and a few of the others took seats further down on the opposite side. Though they were down the length of the table, Snow still caught his eye every now and then. The girl who had hooked her arm in his sat next to him, scooting close and beaming with a bright smile. At least she had Yirrie and Elator to keep her company.

One of the Elders, a woman by the name of Tasnia, stood at the head of the table, her arms outstretched and palms up as she delivered the Springtide blessing.

"Greetings, friends and fellow kin. You are all welcome here on the first night of our Springtide Festival. Let us break bread together and feast and dance and sing under the glow of the silvery moon. For tonight, we revel in the warmth of the coming days. Huzzah!"

"Huzzah!" everyone said in unison.

The feast began. The elderberry wine flowed. The first course was served—a succulent meat in a cream sauce. Snow tore off a piece of Yirrie's crusty bread and spread it with a healthy dollop of butter. Though she tried not to listen, she attuned her ears to the laughter down the length of the table.

All around her, there was chatter and laughter and a sense of happiness as they looked forward to the coming spring. Though the treetops were too thick to see through, she lifted her gaze skyward hoping to catch a glimpse of the full moon. It had been big and beautiful the night before and she wondered if it was the same for this night.

The second course made its way around. This time a hearty vegetable soup to go with Yirrie's vegetable pies. The lilting sound of a harp drifted on the breeze and moments later, their voices were lifted into an elven blessing that was meant to be sung. Though she understood their elvish language and could speak it just as well, she remained silent. After the third course, there would be music and dancing until the sun broke the horizon. Already she was weary of it all.

Something strange began to happen. The elven voices around her faded into nothing more than a muffled hum. Her senses came alive, attuning to nature around her. Her back stiffened and she straightened as she glanced around the area, but no one else seemed to sense it. In the distance, she heard a faint buzzing sound.

She shot to her feet so suddenly, the dishes on the table rattled. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she peered into the darkness and tried to make sense of what she was hearing.

Annilen's voice suddenly burst into her mind with one word. Snow!

"Snow, what is it?" Yirrie asked.

She didn't answer. She spun from the table, hurrying the length of it to the end. The buzzing grew louder. Her heart rammed hard as she gathered the length of her skirt. At the edge of the trees, she broke into a run. She thought she heard Yirrie calling her name but she ignored her and dove into the darkness of the forest, leaving the light and the laughter behind.

The path she took was the one she had taken to return home that morning. As she leapt over the log, something caught her skirt. She stumbled forward, almost tumbling to the ground but managed to keep her footing. She tugged her skirt free but not without it ripping. She only paused a moment and decided to deal with that—and Yirrie—later.

The sounds of the festival faded as the space expanded behind her. All around her, the forest came alive with a humming that thrummed through her veins. She halted suddenly, her heart beating wildly as she stood there surrounded by trees and nocturnal creatures. Sweat beaded her forehead and dampened the back of her neck. There was an underlying sense of fear vibrating there.

But fear of what?

She slowly turned, narrowing her eyes and peering into the shadows. She saw nothing. But that faint buzzing was still there.

I know you're out there. I am coming for you .

The voice burst through her mind with such a force she stumbled back a step. It was a warning. A cold chill skittered through her. But she didn't have a chance to process what it meant. A frantic flutter of wings erupted near her face.

"Snow!" Annilen said her name on a breath.

"What is it? What's wrong?" She held up her hand so the tiny sprite could land.

"Do you sense the buzzing?"

"Yes," Snow said.

"It's coming…" she whispered.

"What is it?" Snow asked.

Before she could answer, Elator's voice rang out. "Snow?"

"Annilen, what is it?" she demanded.

"Dark magic," she whispered. And then she was gone in a flutter of wings.

"Snow, where are you?" Elator called.

He had followed her. She flushed hot as she glanced down at her torn skirt. The faint buzzing was still in the air. Dark magic, she said. But she didn't sense magic. She forced her feet to turn and head back to the festival, dreading facing Yirrie when she discovered the torn dress. Mostly she dreaded seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

She hadn't made it far into the forest. Elator was standing on the edge, his hands on his hips. And though his face was shadowed, she knew he must have a look of disdain in his face. As she neared, the lights dangling from the treetops gave enough illumination for her to see the worry creasing his features.

"What happened?" he asked as she approached.

She had no explanation. "I thought I sensed something. I—"

His brows drew together in question and concern. He would never understand what she sensed or that she heard a voice in her head threatening to find her. It was a woman's voice. That much she knew. But whose?

"It's nothing." She plastered on a bright smile. "Let's go back to the party."

Then she hooked her arm around his. They started back into the village. The cursory glances and the stares from the others did not escape her notice. As they reached their table, Ardan stared at her while his sister giggled, clearly amused at her disheveled appearance. Yirrie's expression told her everything the woman thought about her in that moment—disappointed with an underlying hint of anger. Snow hoped she would not see the torn skirt until much later.

They rounded the end of the table, heading back to their seats, when that buzzing sound increased. Snow jerked her arm out of Elator's and spun around, looking for that sound. But no one else seemed to hear it. She sucked in a sharp breath, her chest heaving and the vines along her torso shuddering. Somehow, they had managed to remain intact during her race through the forest.

"Snow?" Elator asked.

"Don't you hear it?" she asked, turning to meet his gaze.

"Hear what?" He shook his head.

Yirrie, who had clearly had enough of her nonsense, joined them. "Snow, whatever you're playing at must stop."

"I'm not playing at anything."

The sound was so loud now, she clapped her hands over her ears and stumbled backward away from them both. She had garnered the attention of Tasnia at the head of the table. The woman slowly rose to her feet, a strange expression on her face. She pinned Snow with her fierce gaze.

I am coming for you.

That voice again. She shook her head, continuing to step backward away from the table.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered, though it was difficult for her to hear herself over the buzzing.

Yirrie's face had gone pale. Elator pressed his lips together in a thin line. The girls continued to laugh at her. Ardan remained seated staring at her with pity. That was the thing that bothered her the most—that he pitied her.

Suddenly, the world around her fell away. Everyone around her was frozen in time like a statue. All that remained was the horrible buzzing sound.

She saw it then. The black mist seeped through the trees and spilled into their cozy festival. It came from all directions, blotting out the light, the buzzing now louder than ever.

The black mist formed into a silhouette which was nothing more than an opaque shadowy outline. Snow dropped her hands to her sides, her heart in her throat, as she scurried around the end of the table.

A misty hand reached for her.