De St Croix laid his wife down on their bed and tucked the bedclothes around her with tender attention. She looked at him weakly, her face pale despite her natural warm brown skin tone, her once springy curls limp against the pillows. He smiled at her, hiding his concerns. His skin pinched as it pulled at the scar that ran across his cheek, so new it was still red and angry. He stroked her hair back from her face.

“It is good to be ‘ome.” He said warmly.

“It is.” She raised herself up slightly. “Belle?”

“Here, Countess.” Freya carried in the tiny baby who had her mother’s eyes and her father’s hair. “Would you care to nurse her?”

Giselle reached out and took the bundle that was more blanket than baby and peered down at her newborn face. “She’s so beautiful.” Her arms began to shake and she looked up at the Count with a little fear in her eyes. He immediately scooped Belle out of her arms and allowed her to lie back down.

“Rest my love. Belle is well and strong. After a good night’s sleep you will be able to ‘old ‘er to your ‘eart’s content.”

She smiled and closed her eyes, almost instantly falling asleep. De St Croix laid Belle into her cradle that, for the time being, would stay in her parent’s bedchamber. He looked up at Freya who was checking Giselle’s temperature.

“Something is not right, is it?” Freya pursed her lips, and avoided answering. De St Croix swallowed. “She has always recovered so well after giving birth.”

“It was not without its complications.” Freya said gently. “She is not as young as she was with the others. It was a premature birth brought on by trauma, she has had to travel to get home…I think, I hope, that with rest and in the comfort of her own home, she will recover.”

De St Croix swallowed and looked down at Giselle as her chest rose and fell with shallow moments, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. “Please…” He whispered.

“There is nothing you can do here and you will only become more distraught.” Freya escorted him to the door. “If anything changes I will contact you immediately.”

De St Croix nodded and, after a nervous glance in Giselle’s direction, left the room. He shut the door quietly, feeling his resolve waver after having been strong for so long. Damn it…he could use a drink. The walls of the chateau were thick so he had been unaware of the clatter going on in the main hall, and indeed in most of his home, until leaving the bedchamber. Needing distraction rather than being curious, he walked to where the corridor opened up to the main staircase and looked down into the main hall. The remnants of the army that had gone up against the Snow Queen filled the large expanse of hall. Fires were roaring in the hearths of the fireplaces down the sides of the hall and the men and women that gathered there slumped on stretchers or sat around in groups, exhausted beyond imagining.

They were victorious. But in the aftermath of such destruction and death, joy was hardly forthcoming.

So many lives lost…it was hard to believe that it was all worth it.

But spirits would rise in time. When the last day of winter finally ebbed and spring and summer unleashed themselves in their fullness without the shackles the Snow Queen had bound them with, they would be able to enjoy the freedom they had earned and bury their dead in fresh, unfrozen earth. Even General Shankara had accepted the Count’s invitation to stay at the chateau with what remained of his men so that, when they had had a chance to heal, the weather would be more pleasant to travel in.

Dominique’s half interested gaze landed on a group of three men talking in the centre of the room. There was Frederik, with both of his arms in slings after ruining his left during the battle because his right had already been injured. There was Sir Philip, his household knight, who now walked with a limp and whose face that had once sparkled with youth despite his age, looked tired and well beyond his years. And then there was a fair haired man who was doing most of the talking in a demanding tone. Sir Philip and Frederik continued to shake their heads at him and Philip tried to calm him down with his hand on his shoulder but it was shrugged away.

Frederik shook his head and as he did so, spied De St Croix on the landing. The man they were arguing with turned and saw him, his gaze darkening. He immediately turned and jogged towards him. De St Croix turned on his heel and started to walk away.

“Count. We need to talk.”

De St Croix sighed and looked up. “Not now Evander.” He walked away. Prince Evander, who was more widely known as Sir Janus, followed him closely down one of the many corridors in the chateau. As they walked swiftly they dodged many servants and soldiers, all hurrying to do what they could for the wounded and the weary.

“You have been avoiding me for days! I want answers!”

“I do not care for your tone. And I ‘ave no answers to give you.”

“Is that the way of a count? To lie?” Evander grabbed his sleeve. “Hey! Talk to me!”

The Count turned and glared at him. “I do not ‘ave time to talk with you. I ‘ave the aftermath of a war to orchestrate and an entire chateau of wounded soldiers to care for.”

“Then talk fast.”

“I cannot tell you what you want to know.”

“Cannot or will not?” Evander demanded. “All I want to know is one thing. Where is she?”

“That information is not available to you.” De St Croix pushed past him, heading towards the back stairs.

“You moved her. While I was sleeping you moved her.”

“With good reason. We could not risk those with a grudge acting out their own vengeance.”

“You think I want to kill her?”

De St Croix turned and eyed him sharply. “It would be a cold ‘earted man who would not want revenge after watching the woman ‘e loved, perish.” He pushed opened a door and, despite his attempt to shut it on Evander, the prince pushed his way past into a long room set in a lower level of the chateau. In this cold, grey room, were a number of tables and on two of them were bodies covered in sheets. Most of those who had fought in the great war had been buried on the battlefield. The Snow Queen’s beasts, those that had fallen, had disintegrated with the new dawn. Even the remains of Halley’s father, who had been slain by the Snow Queen herself, had faded into nothing. The grieving giant had stayed long enough to erect an upright boulder to mark the place her father had fallen and then begged leave to return to her clan. She needed to be strong in her father’s place and ensure that the giants did not decide to retaliate against the humans.

So, when the light of a new day broke across the ground, the bodies that remained scattered on the battlefield were human. Because of the dragon’s fire and the Queen’s snow, the ground was willing to be dug into and accepted the brave warriors into its cool embrace. The field was littered with crosses hastily constructed as each new grave was dug. But there were those who had fallen that had been brought back to the chateau to be given a hero’s funeral.

Krista and Abigail, along with a number of other female warriors, stood around the broken body of Maja. She had fallen in battle as she suspected she would yet her sacrifice had undoubtedly saved dozens of lives in the initial charge, let alone in the battle in total. Her daughters and fellow warriors did not weep loudly. They stood in silent vigil over their leader, tears trickling unreservedly down their faces.

On another slab was the body of Jerome. Though he was completely covered in a sheet he was easily picked out for a red rose had been placed on his chest.

De St Croix swallowed down the lump in his throat. When Evander went to speak he held up his hand sharply and walked over to where Maja lay. Evander waited impatiently at the doorway and watched as the Count spoke quietly with the werewolf warriors. Even in his agitated state he knew better than to barge in on what was clearly a sensitive moment. He hadn’t known Maja well, having met her at the council of war six weeks ago…

…had it really only been that long?

Evander felt as long he had lived a lifetime in those short weeks and his hand reached up to take hold of the small vial that hung around his neck, tied to a leather cord. The motion was so familiar that he couldn’t help but smile sadly at the irony of it.

He had started out so bitter and hostile, angry at everyone and everything and wearing his mask of Sir Janus so that no one knew how much he hurt on the inside. Then he had been exposed as a fraud and sent on an impossible quest…to fall in love with the woman that had carved out his heart all those years ago. And yet, as it was with many fairy tales, he had done exactly that. Moved by her plight, her sad and lonely story, Evander had let go of his hate to discover that the love which he thought had soured was bubbling up again like a mountain spring.

He felt he could do anything…if only she were with him.

And then…he’d killed her.

Evander closed his eyes, pain stabbing him hard in the chest. He didn’t even try to forget that terrible moment when he had loosed the arrow and sent it flying through the air to embed itself into the dragon’s chest…into her heart. It was before him when he was asleep and when he was awake. The image taunted him continually, accusing him of murdering his one true love. And he allowed himself to suffer for it, over and over again for he was entirely…utterly…guilty.

The Count finished speaking with Maja’s sisters and daughters and moved back over to the doorway. Evander immediately fell into step beside him.

Before he could speak the Count said, “No.”

“I do not want to do her any harm.”

De St Croix snorted, a most unseemly noise for a man dressed in a deep red velvet coat with gold braid and a fine silk white shirt peeking out from the collar and his sleeves.

“I don’t.” Evander argued. “It is possible she may hold the answers I seek.”

De St Croix stopped on the stair and closed his eyes. Evander stopped and prayed under his breath.

“I know I am going to regret this...” De St Croix pressed his fingers to his forehead and then looked at Evander. “What answers?”

“To where Jé Kinah is.”

The Count’s gaze was sympathetic but firm. “Jé Kinah is dead. We all saw her die.”

“Maybe.” Evander sprinted after the rapidly departing Count. “Are there not greater things in this world than just what we see with our eyes? You of all people should know that.” De St Croix stopped and looked at him. “I swear on my life I mean her no harm. If you could just tell me where she is being imprisoned…”

“‘ere.”

Evander jerked. “What?”

De St Croix grabbed his sleeve and dragged him into an alcove, out of hearing. “The Snow Queen, or what is left of ‘er, is in this very chateau.”

Evander blinked. “You cannot be serious!”

“Long ago, when the chateau of De St Croix was first built, ze original count and ‘is descendents were entrusted with dispensing justice on the lands under their rule. Over time that responsibility ‘as fallen entirely to the King. But the dungeon and cells still exist,” De St Croix shrugged, “even if they do tend to flood now and then.”

Evander gasped. “She’s here.”

“Lower your tone,” the Count ordered, “or do you ‘onestly think there isn’t a single man or woman in this chateau that wouldn’t want to murder ‘er with their own ‘ands in revenge for this damn awful war?”

Evander ran his hand through his hair and tried not to think about how dirty and matted it was. “I…assumed she would be taken to any number of dungeons throughout the many lands she violated. I never thought she would be interned here.”

“I am waiting for a decision in regards to ‘er transfer.” De St Croix admitted. “Until then she is both my responsibility and under my protection.” He patted his pocket. “I ‘ave the only key and I will do what I must to keep ‘er safe.”

Evander swallowed. “I need to speak with her.” De St Croix rolled his eyes. “Just for a minute.”

“I thought as much.” De St Croix pointed down a back staircase. “Take the first right and the second left. There will be a guard at the doorway. Tell ‘im the Beast sent you.”

“The Beast?”

“Do you want to talk with ‘er or not?” Evander nodded. De St Croix, sensing the interview was at an end, began to move away. He stopped and turned. “The guards ‘ave orders to kill anyone who attempts to ‘arm ‘er. After all you ‘ave been through…I would ‘ate to add your body to the other two downstairs.”

Evander paused for a moment then practically turned and sprinted to the stairs, following the directions just as he had been told. The guard, though surprised at his request for admittance, allowed him through when he gave the password. De St Croix was not lying about the dungeon not being used anymore. They were dark and dank and smelt of mould. There were several torches but they burned weakly and the walls, half covered with moss and trickles of water, reflected an eerie glow.

The cells were in disrepair and many of the heavy doors were hanging off at an angle, held up by one hinge bolt only at times. But one cell had been recently refitted with a brand new door. And a tiny window at eye height allowed one to see in…and one to see out.

Evander peered in, heart hammering. If there hadn’t been so much at stake he could have approached the Queen with much the same disregard as he had for almost everyone else. But what she was about to say would either kill hope or fan it into a flame.

“Well…if it isn’t Sir Janus…dragon slayer.”

She was standing at the back of the cell, her once lovely white gown smudged with dark green and brown. Her bare feet were bound in shackles, the chains linked to thick rings on the walls. Her luscious dark brown curly locks were wild and her eyes glinted dangerously in the dark. She stepped into the tiny shaft of light from the window and eyed him with a terrible grin on her face.

“Or should I say, elf slayer.”

Evander could barely swallow down the lump in his throat. “You know who I am.”

“You are the hero of the war of ice and snow! Yours is the name I heard chanted over and over and over…” She huffed. “I wonder…did you enjoy their praise…Sir Janus?”

Evander held back his flinch of anger and guilt. “I know who you are, Meredith.”

She gave a mocking curtsey then stood up. “Somebody’s been talking…” She said in a sing song voice.

“Merry.”

Her face rippled with anger before she covered it up quickly. “What did you think of my little hall of mirrors? I did so enjoy putting that deadly game together. Imagine…the brave knight fighting his way to save the princess…only to discover she’s actually the dragon he has to kill. Quite the dilemma.”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Oh! Well then!” She smiled excessively eagerly at him as she sat on a lump of stone. “Please, ask away. I am only here to help.”

Evander’s throat closed over but he managed to squeak out, “Is Jé Kinah alive?”

The former Queen pursed her lips and looked upwards, deep in mocking contemplation. “Now that is a question…a very good question. A very good…important…I’d even go so far as to say crucial question…”

“Just answer the question damn it!” Evander roared, his thin nerves snapping.

She looked as though she was enjoying every minute of his agony as she stood up and walked over to the bars, chains clinking around her feet as her shackles only let her get within two feet of the door.

“Do not fret so, Sir Knight. I have every intention of answering your question.” She smiled and Evander wanted to wring her neck. “The truth is…I cannot live if she dies. So your beloved elf cum demon dragon is alive…”

Evander’s heart nearly tore through his chest and he grabbed the bars of the window. “Where?”

Her face cracked into a grin and she laughed heartily as if he had asked her if she was enjoying her stay. “The first question is free. The rest…they are going to cost you.”

She breathed on the bars and Evander yanked his hands back and watched as the window became a tiny frosted pane of glass. He closed his eyes and pressed his fist against his chest.

“She is alive.” He whispered. “I knew it.”

The De St Croix Chateau was rather more than a simple chalet in the mountains. It was built between two slopes with a river running in front of it and mountains behind it. A stone bridge was the primary means of entering the chateau while there were several discreet exits, some of which were only known to the De St Croix family. There was a generous courtyard in front of its large front doors, its girth watched over by three dozen windows, some four stories high above the ground. The chateau had nearly the same amount of basements, one of which was the dungeon where the Snow Queen waited for judgment. At the back of the chateau was the main courtyard where a series of overlapping staircases led down into the gardens, which were terribly barren after years of winter, fountains and hidden gazebos and secluded nooks. Far at the back of the gardens was a large, barren expanse. Those who knew the lands well would have been hard pressed to recognise a mountain lake, frozen over for years and coated in thick snow. It was this lake that fed the river which disappeared beneath the eastern slope and then emerged to pour out in front of the chateau.

Everything was built out of cream stone although the ledges and the gargoyles that watched over their domain had become gray. The roof was tiled with slate blue/grey tiles. No doubt it had once been primitive thatch but that had long since been replaced with the costly tiles. The chateau even had its own bell tower which could be reached by a series of narrow staircases up through the tower itself or by two roof hatches that allowed a person to walk along a three foot wide ridge around the entire roof.

It was a beautiful, unusual chateau and had Evander had the time or the inclination, perhaps he could have appreciated it. But he was on a mission. He had to speak with De St Croix…if only the damn chateau wasn’t so large and full of people.

Every soldier he asked shrugged wearily or, worse, congratulated him on his slaying of the dragon while every servant seemed to point him back the way he had just come from. At long last he discovered that the Count was in his study. His personal, not for public visitation, study. Apparently it was appropriate for a favourite of the King to have two studies. After banging loudly on the closed door with his fist several times, he abandoned protocol and simply stormed in.

De St Croix seemed to wear his title with ease and familiarity while others, like Prince Niccolo and even his wife Maria, resented theirs. So when he discovered Niccolo and De St Croix in the study looking a little stunned at him barging his way into the room, it was like seeing two sides of a coin. De St Croix’s velvet coat and gold trim and even his polished boots with the slight heel were worn with pride but without conceit, or else Evander wouldn’t have been able to stand him. Niccolo, on the other hand, wore his clothes as though they were draped over a drying rack. He didn’t care for a silk cravat or to have his boots polished and that which he did wear, was with an element of disdain.

In stark contrast, Sir Philip was also in the room and wore practical clothing, a leather vest over a white shirt with a loose collar. His boots were thick and well worn and there was always a knife tucked into them. There was an air of efficiency about him and confidence that came with age and experience however, in this moment, there seemed to be a fight between fear and curiosity in his hazel eyes.

On the desk was a decanter of amber liquid and a half filled glass.

“Prince Evander!” Niccolo blurted. “You are here?”

“Where else would I be?” Evander demanded.

“Where indeed?” De St Croix looked at Niccolo pointedly while Sir Philip kept quiet and still, watching the exchange carefully. “What can we do for you Prince and Knight?”

Evander strode up to the desk and leaned on it. “I was right. Jé Kinah lives.”

“Yes…”

“You are not going to argue the point?” Evander watched as De St Croix stood up, his tall, broad frame against the enormous window where moonlight shone through. His view was that of the courtyard and the snow sparkled on the trees and the landscape. If they hadn’t been sick to death of the winter adornment, it would have been quite pretty.

“Let us say, for argument’s sake, that I believe you.” The Count turned. “What of it?”

“Meredith, the Snow Queen, knows where she is.”

“She does.” Niccolo tapped his fingers on the desk.

“Yes, she does.” Evander snapped. “I know you are going to move her but before you do, I must be given some leeway to question her.”

“You already have. She told you what you needed to know.”

“She told me Jé Kinah lives. But not where she is or how I am to find her.”

Niccolo sighed. “What are her terms?”

Evander hesitated. “She said only the first answer was free.”

“I would wager that the cost of the rest of the answers might have something to do with clemency? Leniency? Heaven forbid, freedom!”

“What if she does ask for leniency in her sentence?” Evander argued. “You cannot execute her for every life she has taken. She only has one to give. Why not have some good come out of her capture?”

Niccolo looked at De St Croix. “I knew it was a mistake to have her here. She should have been taken somewhere else. This is not going to end well De St Croix.”

“But it is going to end.” He looked down at his hand at a strange silver packet in his large palm. His fingers closed around it and he shut his eyes. “I ‘ave received word from the ‘eads of the countries ‘o committed themselves to this war. ‘er day of judgment is at ‘and.”

Evander felt his heart twist. “Then tell me where she is to be taken and I will plead my case with them. Surely they will have the sense to realise that in all the lives she has ruined, she has the power to save a life.”

De St Croix turned and eyed Evander. “You ‘ave made your case and I reject it.” Evander paled as the Count took up his walking cane. “The task of judgment falls to me and the council of war leaders in this very chateau. All countries are represented and their ambassadors are to ‘ear ‘er case and make their decision.”

As the Count began to walk to the door Evander dashed into his path. “You have the authority to grant her leniency and save Jé Kinah.” De St Croix paused and swallowed, conflict on his sharp, bold features. Evander could see his resolve weakening. Suddenly there was a clatter behind the door to the left of the fireplace. Evander looked at the Count and Niccolo, their faces stricken with fear. “What is going on here?” He demanded and yanked the door open. He was greeted with a man’s broad back and a woman, her hands clutching at him, hidden by his frame, gave a horrified gasp. They were pressed into shelves, having hidden themselves in a cupboard. “What the…”

“Passions are running ‘igh at the moment.” De St Croix moved forward and pressed the door closed. He seemed to have regained some composure and Evander wondered if the interruption had just cost him his plea.

“Count…please…have mercy…”

De St Croix frowned and Niccolo exclaimed, “You cannot seriously be considering his request! It is all a trick. An illusion. All that we have been told, the chance of any of it being true…”

“Prince Niccolo, please summon the rest of the council to the war room so that we can put this claim to rest.” The Count said in a dark tone. Niccolo straightened up, his mouth flattening into a hard line. “Now.” Niccolo glared at Evander and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. “Sir Philip.”

“Yes Count.”

“The security of my ‘ome and all those in it are in your ‘ands.”

“I will check on all guard posts immediately.” Sir Philip gave a slight bow and left in a much quieter manner than Niccolo.

Evander licked his lips, knowing that they were alone. “Then you understand me, De St Croix. You are on my side.”

“I am nothing of the sort,” his face contorted into a grimace and he swallowed, “but there is more at stake ‘ere than you know. You may question the Snow Queen further but she will receive no clemency for ‘er crimes. She will pay the price for ‘er actions.”

Evander jerked with a sharp intake of breath. “She will be executed and all hope of saving Jé Kinah will die with her.”

The Count closed his eyes. “‘ope never dies. It just…changes…It is up to us to recognise its new form.” He slipped around the stunned man and opened the door. “I am not against you Evander…but my wife is dying and I ‘ave little thought for anything else.”

Evander grabbed his arm, crushing the velvet beneath his fingers. “Jé Kinah nearly died so that you could have your own happily ever after. I cannot believe you would be so heartless as to turn your back on her now.”

The Count went to say something then clamped his mouth shut, wrenched his arm free and walked away leaving Evander standing in the empty room. His body was surging with outrage and he slammed the door as hard as he could then beat at it with his fists. With each strike his energy grew less but his desperation grew. In the end he scrunched his hands so tight his short nails bit into his palms and he yelled as though pushing a great weight.

Finally he staggered backwards and pressed his palm to his forehead, his head so hot it felt as though it would explode. In desperation he stormed to the Count’s desk, scooped up the glass of liquor and drained it. It burned his throat and sucked the air out of his lungs but he went back for a second glass before throwing it into the fire. It was only then that he stuck his hands in his pockets and allowed his shoulders to slump.

His fingertips stroked something cold and hard in his pocket. He drew the object out and opened up his hand. A single key lay on his palm. It was a wrought iron key with a diamond shaped crest. He stared at it, dumbfounded, until revelation dawned and he began to shake. He stuffed the key deep into his pocket and sprinted to the door, down the corridor and several flights of stairs to the dungeon.

“I knew you’d come back.”

“Hardly a clever deduction.”

“Naughty, naughty Sir Janus. You should not insult the one who knows how to find your love.” The Snow Queen, or Meredith as Evander was beginning to recognize her as, leaned against the wall and smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Flatter me a little.”

Evander bristled. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am.” She looked around her cell. “I have become accustomed to…shall we say, finer quarters than this and I am in need of a little pampering.”

“If this cell isn’t to your liking I am sure I can have you moved to one that is a foot under water.”

Meredith sighed dramatically. “You really are stuck on her, aren’t you? Goodness knows why. I bet if she were in this cell you could think of something romantic to say.” She straightened up and the corner of her mouth curled. “That’s a good game. Pretend I’m her.”

“What?”

“Pretend I am Jé Kinah and say something…romantic to me.”

Evander’s fingers tightened on the bars. “Listen witch, I do not have time for this. Jé Kinah needs me. Now!”

Meredith shook her head and sighed. “I am not feeling loved Janus. I may waste away in this cell…and take my knowledge with me.” She leapt up, going from heartbroken to childlike in the blink of an eye. “I tell you what I will do. I will hide behind the door and you pretend I’m her.” She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled. “Go on. For your love.”

Evander swallowed and resisted the urge to beat at the door. Meredith ducked from sight and all he could hear was dripping somewhere nearby and light thudding from above where the masses were gathered. He felt the key in his pocket and knew he could open the door, pin her to the wall and drag out what he needed to know…but he wasn’t sure how far her power had receded. It was possible she could kill him and escape.

So he had little choice but to play her game.

“Jé Kinah…” His voice broke and he licked his lips and tried again. “Jé…I’m…sorry…I never really understood what it was you were afraid of. I thought it must have been exaggerated, that you had made a mountain out of a...this is foolishness!” When Meredith didn’t reply Evander closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the stone. He couldn’t let his pride get in the way of rescuing her. He willed Jé Kinah’s face to come before him and reached out in his imagination to take her hand. “I loved you from the very first bewildering, naïve day we met. In the beginning it was an infatuation and I day dreamed about you more often than I thought about where I was going or what I was going to do. You were my motivation and I was completely certain that if I only lived a life that you would approve of…that if I became a man that you would fall in love with…that fate would have no choice but to allow us to meet once more.

No matter how many matches my father made for me, I could not help but compare each one to you. In the end my father disowned me and yet I felt no sorrow. All I could think of was that I had remained true to you. That night you descended into the ball, like a dream, I was sure that fate had spoken and that we would be together from that moment on. But I wasn’t the man you needed. The moment an obstacle was in my path I faltered. I didn’t pursue you like you needed. I failed you. I will not fail you now. I love you and I will find you and set you free.”

Evander rubbed the errant tears from his face, his heart tight in his chest. He felt a cold breeze on his face and looked up, the moisture on his face turning to ice as Meredith gazed out at him through the window.

“You really do love her…”

Evander swallowed. “What do you want of me? Whatever it is, I will give it. Just help me find her.”

Meredith’s blue eyes deepened in colour. “Set me free and you shall find her with my help. And, unlike some, my word is unbreakable.”

Evander faltered. “But…judgment…”

“Yes, well, I’d love to be around to be executed…but death never looked very good on me.” Meredith tossed her tangled dark curls. “That is my price, Janus. A life for a life.”

The colour drained out of his face and Evander realised she had made him show his entire hand. He had nothing to bluff with now, no hidden card, no joker to play. Meredith knew how much he loved Jé Kinah and was going to use that to gain her freedom.

“I would go to prison. I could be executed.”

“All in the name of love. What could be more romantic?”

Evander felt his hand reaching for the key but clenched his fingers into a fist and gritted his teeth together. “No.” He choked out, stepping back. “No. You will pay for your crimes.”

Meredith gave him a knowing smile. “Then you don’t really love her, do you?”

And no matter what Evander did, he couldn’t get those words out of his head.

Because he was a war hero he had been given his own chambers in the chateau. It was a generously sized room which looked more appropriate for a prince to stay in. A four poster bed was in one corner, the covers poorly arranged so that they half drooped on the floor as though the servant had more important places to be rather than making things straight. A fire was already crackling in the hearth and on the mantelpiece was an old urn, a bottle of liquor and two glasses. There was also a coat of peculiar make draped over one of the two chairs set in front of the fireplace, but Evander was in no mood to find out who’s it was. Instead, once inside, he barred the door, sank into a chair in front of the fire and put his head in his hands.

“Then you don’t really love her, do you?”

“Jé Kinah…” Evander whispered. “What do I do?” He rubbed his face, feeling a hundred years old, stretched thin and grey. “What would you do?” He asked the empty chair facing his. Unable to stand the silence but unable to bear the noise of company, Evander took up the bottle of liquor and drank several glasses in rapid succession. By the time he got to the halfway mark he was numb, his eyes stinging and his fingers tingling. He was slumped in the chair, the bottle dangling from his fingers.

It made a dull thud when it hit the thick carpet but he barely flinched, his eyes becoming slits as he stared at the chair opposite him.

“Then you don’t really love her, do you?”

“What would you do?” He slurred, feeling darkness roll over him like the tide, heavy and impossible to fight.

What would I do? He looked up and saw Jé Kinah sitting in the chair. She was so lovely, in pale greens and soft browns, her hair scooped back from her face, her pointed ears in plain view. Her hands sat primly in her lap and her eyes gazed at him without judgment for his sorry, sodden state.

“What would you do?” Evander mumbled.

Ask yourself this, Evander, what was I like in life?

“I don’t unnerstann…”

Jé Kinah slid off her chair to kneel in front of him, her skin like porcelain and her eyes as soft as morning dew. Did I share my burdens? Was I open, honest or transparent? Did I ask for help?

Evander shook his head sloppily. “Not onne.” He slurred.

She touched the skin beneath his loosened tunic ties, her fingers caressing the cold vial.

I would not come for me. I made my mistakes and I paid for them. She stood up and Evander reached out clumsily to try and take her hands but she backed away towards the fire. Every decision has its consequences…and those consequences reach further into the future than we know.

“Jé Kinah…” Evander was jolted out of drunken slumber as Jé Kinah stepped into the flames. “The fire!”

Do I not deserve to burn? She asked and though the flames flicked her slender form, she didn’t cry out or beg for help.

“Jé Kinah!” Evander plunged his hands towards the flames as she disappeared. His fingers were bitten by the heat and he yanked himself backwards, avoiding being burnt by a narrow margin. His chest was thumping hard and his brow was dotted with sweat as he stared into the fireplace. “Jé Kinah…” He stood up, his head swimming. He put a hand out on the back of the chair to steady himself and with the other he dove into his pocket, his fingers curling around the key.

“Then you don’t really love her, do you?”

“I’m sorry Jé Kinah.” He whispered then looked back at the flames. “This is not about what you would do. It is about what I would do. I failed you before. I will not do so again.”

In the bitter cold hours before dawn, when the light was bluest and the air was still, the Snow Queen sat primly on her block of stone, her skin so white she could have been a marble statue except that her breast rose and fell with every shallow breath, She had combed her fingers relentlessly through her hair until it was as smooth as it would ever be, curling over her shoulders in stark contrast to her pale figure. She was serene, picturesque…a strange sight in such a dank, foul place.

When the quiet world she existed in was filled with the sound of a body slumping against the ground, she didn’t budge. Nor did she move when she heard footsteps, heavy with guilt and overriding determination, on the stairs coming down towards her. Only when she heard the key in the lock of her cell did she move…and only then her mouth which curled into a smile.

“I knew you would come.” She said and her voice sent chills up his spine. Her eyes opened and for a moment they blazed with blue fire before diming down to look at him, amusement spreading across her features.

“I could hardly do otherwise.” He replied as he undid her shackles then, from the door, he threw clothes into the cell. “Dress. We do not have much time.”

She did so even though she was not cold in the slightest. She put the hood up and tucked her tell tale locks inside its dark embrace, her face shadowed and still smiling. “Do I meet with your approval sir knight?”

He barely looked at her. “Turn around.”

She did, knowing exactly what was coming. As he bound her hands in rope and she noted his cleverness. Had they been metal, she could have focused energy to make them so cold that they snapped. Rope was actually a great deal harder for her to get out of. She felt his presence, warm against her back. “I hope you remember to tell Jé Kinah how much you like binding women.”

He spun her around and she was unsurprised to see hate score across his face. “Move and if you aren’t silent I will gag you.”

She smiled and walked out of the cell, knowing that freedom was within her grasp. The knight kept a hand on her bonds. He gave her a push when she stopped half way up. “I said move.”

“There is a dwarf with an axe in my way.” She said matter-of-factly and the knight stepped beside her.

“Marjellan.” The dwarf glared at them both. Or it could have been curiosity…or surprise…it was hard to tell with all that shaggy hair and his battle scarred features.

“I went to your chambers to see…if it was true…or even possible…” His grim gaze, which few could mimic if not a dwarf, bored into her rescuer. “What are you doing Evander?”

Meredith paused. She had thought his name was Janus. That’s what the humans who were alive with enough breath left in their bodies had shouted at the end of the war. Perhaps he had chosen a different name to go into battle as. Perhaps he was a dishonoured knight. She wondered, fleetingly, what he could have done in order to warrant changing his name. Whatever his reasoning, there was more to him than she initially suspected.

“Get out of my way Marjellan.” Janus ordered, drawing out his sword.

“Not likely.” He responded, brandishing his axe. “Not until you tell me what is happening here.”

“Jé Kinah is alive. She knows where she is.”

Meredith bristled at being called ‘she’. She had a name. She was a queen and as such she would not be forgotten or dismissed, whatever her power might have been diminished to. “Without me he’ll never find her.”

“Shut up witch.” Marjellan snapped at her then looked at Janus. “You realise what you’re doing? Setting a dangerous individual free after almost a decade of fighting.”

“I know.”

“Condemning yourself as a traitor.”

“I know.”

“Becoming a fugitive?”

“I know!” Janus barked and heard his voice bounce off the walls. He gritted his teeth and swallowed. “I know Marjellan. Believe me I know.”

The dwarf’s face was lined with hardness and Meredith began to doubt whether Janus had the will power to cut down an obvious friend to secure their freedom. And then, unexpectedly, the dwarf’s features softened and he pulled his axe upright.

“Is she worth it?”

“Was Snow White?” Janus asked quietly.

The dwarf nodded and stepped aside. Evander put his hand on his shoulder and nodded. The dwarf glared at Meredith as she scurried by, not trusting that he wouldn’t lash out. In the corridors beyond the dungeon and basement of the chateau, all was quiet and still. Every footstep echoed alarmingly as they made their way with painstaking slowness towards the front gate.

“This is taking forever.” Meredith hissed. Janus snarled quietly at her and she rolled her eyes as he peered down a corridor to make sure it was empty.

“I would not go that way if I were you Prince Evander.”

They spun around and saw a figure leaning in the shadows. She pushed herself off the wall and walked towards them with a slight limp as though her feet were hurting her. Her robust auburn hair fell over her shoulders and as she came close Meredith could have sworn she could smell the ocean and hear waves crashing upon a distant shore.

“Xanthe.” Janus/Evander greeted. Meredith raised her eyebrows. She knew that name. It was the precious little mermaid that had attempted to change who she was. Xanthe came close and looked at Janus/Evander with such large, limpid eyes that Meredith wondered if there was a woman, other than herself, that wasn’t in love with the rugged knight with two names...who was apparently a prince. Oh...a disowned prince! That would make a name change perfectly understandable. Outrunning his reputation...

“I had…to see…for myself…” Xanthe whispered.

“See what?” Janus/Evander asked in a confused voice.

Xanthe tore her eyes away from the knight and reached for Meredith. She slipped back the hood and looked hard at the face of the Snow Queen. Meredith didn’t shy away from scrutiny as the once mermaid seemed to be looking for something in her face that she struggled to see.

“I know what this looks like…” Janus/Evander blurted.

“I of all people know that things are not always what they seem.” Xanthe said unexpectedly. Meredith raised her eyebrows and put her hood back up as Xanthe stepped back. “A contingent of guards is waiting for you at the front gates and Maja’s sisters are patrolling the perimeter. You will be easily captured.” She turned and walked away. “Follow me.”

Meredith looked at Janus/Evander. “Do we trust her?”

“You don’t,” Janus/Evander glared at her, “but I do.” He grabbed her bonds and shoved. “Move.”

Xanthe led them back the way they had come but turned off before the dungeon entrance and headed to the morgue. The air was frigid inside and Meredith felt its bite like a lovely embrace. Laying on two slabs were canvas bags and from their shape, there were bodies inside. “Hurry. We do not have much time.” She pointed to the bags. “You must climb inside and I will lace the bag up on the outside.”

Meredith recoiled. “There are dead bodies in those bags.”

“Dead bodies you are responsible for.” Xanthe replied coldly.

Meredith folded her arms. “I will not. Take the body out.”

“Then the werewolf hunters will smell that you are not meant to be in the bag and tear you apart with their bare hands.” Xanthe looked at Janus/Evander. “I know this will work.”

“How do you know?” Janus/Evander asked.

Xanthe went to say something then closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. “Because it cannot do otherwise. Please. Hurry.”

Meredith gave a grimace and peeled back the canvas top layer to expose the torn body of a werewolf warrior woman beneath. The cold had been mostly successful in keeping the rot and stench away but nothing could stop it entirely. She hopped onto the table and slid her legs into the bag, feeling a crawling sensation of going to bed. She looked over at Xanthe and Janus/Evander.

Xanthe laced up the bag that had him inside, keeping his face exposed. She kissed his unshaven cheek. “Save her Evander. I know you will.”

He nodded and she finished lacing him up. Xanthe turned and began to work on Meredith’s bag. “I could run for it.” Meredith remarked.

“I know you will not.”

“Really?” Meredith felt a keen desire to prove the little mermaid wrong but she was already half pinned in the bag. “How are we going to get out of this?”

“Hush. Not a word.” Xanthe said firmly and tied the bag up over Meredith’s head. She shut the door of the morgue with a clang and then there was silence.

From there it was a horrible wait in the dark with pinpricks of light through the lace holes. Meredith went from angry to disgusted and then fear tried to creep in. She was close to ripping the bag apart and making a run for it when the door opened and the sound of footsteps entered the room.

“…burying at this ‘our? Is the Count out of ‘is mind?”

“That mightn’t be far from the truth. The servants are saying ‘is wife is dying. Probably won’t see the new dawn.”

One of the men swore and Meredith felt her feet being grabbed. She fought back the urge to kick out at them in indignation as she was hoisted into the air.

“Damn bodies are heavy.”

“And they stink.”

“Show some respect for the dead!” This was a new voice and it resonated with age and wisdom. “Those that you carry have done more for us than you know.”

“Yes Sir Philip.”

“Now follow me.”

Meredith swayed between the men carrying her and the dead women in her bag. She felt sick and repulsed by what was happening to her but, for the most part, the plan seemed to be working. On and on they were carried with no real idea of where they were going.

“Sir, if I may ask, ‘ow are we going to bury them? The ground is ‘ard as ice.”

“We are not burying them. They are being taken to the furnace to be cremated.”

Meredith’s body jolted at this news.

“Keep your end steady will you?” The man at her head barked to the man at her feet.

“Enough talk.”

Soon enough they had reached the furnace room which was hot. There was the sound of logs being thrown into fires and she could hear the blazes crackle. Meredith felt her feet pressed on something and then her whole body shuddered as she was pushed across a hard surface. Something pressed against her and she knew Janus/Evander was right next to her.

“Sir, this furnace isn’t lit.”

“No. It is set aside for this purpose only. Now go. Maja’s sisters and daughters are to be summoned at once.”

“Yes sir.”

There was a long moment of quiet before something pressed against the bags they were in.

“At the back of the furnace is a secret door. The passage behind it is long and empties out somewhere in the hills. Jack is waiting with horses there. Do you understand?”

Meredith nodded in case Janus/Evander didn’t but then she heard him say in a muffled voice, “Thank you.”

“God speed Prince Evander.”

“Sir Philip? Why are you speaking to a furnace?”

“I was saying a few words in respect of a passed hero, Jerome.” There was a clang and the furnace door slammed shut. Meredith could feel panic surging over her again as the words outside were muffled but the threat of being burned alive grew ever closer. She could hear rustling and banging and when her bag was suddenly ripped apart she opened her mouth to scream. A sweaty, sooty hand clamped down over her mouth, silencing her scream. Evander’s shadowed face appeared in front of hers and he jerked his head towards the back of the furnace. In the dullness of their tiny iron prison, Meredith could see a latch at the back. Evander wriggled forward and gripped it, tugging hard.

Things began to get hotter and Meredith knew the coals beneath the furnace had been stoked. It would only be a matter of minutes before the heat in their personal oven cooked them alive.

“Hurry up.” She hissed. Evander sent her a furious glare and she clamped her lips shut as he changed methods and pushed. The door gave way with a groan and he pushed her so that she landed in a most undignified manner for a queen on the cold stone passage beyond. Evander nearly fell on top of her and closed the door shut. Their breathing echoed in the empty, pitch black tunnel.

“Were you trying to get us killed?” She snapped. Before she knew it two big hands grabbed her and she felt a gag wrap around her head. He then grabbed her bonds and pushed her forwards. The passage was narrow and as black as could be. Numerous times she bumped her elbows and at one point the passage height almost halved and they were reduced to shuffling through on their hands and knees.

Their long, dark slog ended when they felt a curve in the passage and suddenly there wasn’t just black in their tunnel anymore. There was pale light coming through an iron grate that had been pried open. The passage end was almost entirely engulfed in blackberry brambles which had somehow lived despite the permanent winter. Their stranglehold on the passage end meant they were scratched and mightily dishevelled by the time they tore their way free. They stood in a clearing, tall pine trees clustered around them, their branches laden with snow. The moon was on its final descent. Dawn was not far away.

Meredith looked around impatiently. She look at Evander and gave him a, “what now,” glare. He opened his mouth to say something impertinent no doubt when a lanky figure entered the clearly leading two horses. The animals were tackled and ready to go, bobbing their heads in excitement. The figure put his finger to his lips and pointed down the slope, shaking his head. Evander nodded and clapped the red haired, ruddy youth on the shoulder.

Meredith clambered up onto her horse after giving the young man who held it a sharp look from which he flinched away. She hated being this helpless and didn’t want everyone thinking they could simply walk all over her and order her steps. Evander took the reins of her horse in his hand and she rolled her eyes at him then clung on for dear life as he dug his heels into his horse’s flank and they began riding away into the forest that was heavily laden with snow.

Meredith felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle and she twisted to look at the chateau. It was stark in the strange, cold light and every detail was pristine and clear. She could almost see the cracks in the stonework and the individual tiles on the roof. She could definitely make out two figures standing on the main balcony that stretched wide out the back and overlooked the courtyard. They wore hoods and the empty dark where their faces should be was facing them, watching them flee. She swallowed, waiting for them to call out the alarm. But all they did was stand there and watch them go.

And then they disappeared into the forest. The chateau vanished from view and she knew she was safe from their prying eyes.

The figures on the balcony watched the small dots disappear into the line of trees, knowing that they were safe from any patrols that might be keeping an eye out for any renegade beasts that could have followed the humans to the chateau. They stood side by side and the one on the left, almost a full head taller than the figure on the right breathed out.

“It is done.”

“Are they safe?” Said a voice behind them and a boot crunched into the snow. The tall stranger turned and looked at Sir Philip whose countenance was clear and his stride firm.

“They are.”

Philip nodded and blinked several times. “I wish I knew for certain that trusting you was the right thing.”

“Do you doubt your own eyes?”

“I doubt everything now.” Sir Philip shook his head. “She should have been tried, judged and executed within these walls.”

“It is possible that could still happen.”

Philip shook his head. “Before that happens, the meeting is ready to continue.”

“Then we must not keep fate waiting.”

Meredith held on to the mane of her horse as Evander led the way into the wilderness, not once asking if she was comfortable or warm…or if she had fallen and was being dragged by the horse through the snow. But he gave her no such courtesy despite being both a prince and a knight. She glared at the back of his head which was obscured by his hood, avoiding low branches or sometimes pushing one aside that she would have to duck to avoid it. The gag in her mouth tasted like soot and horse and she chomped at the edges of it, imagining that she was chewing on his arms.

When they stopped near a low ridge she reached out and buried her fingers into the snow as Evander looked down into the open valley. Dawn had broken and anything travelling would be clearly seen. Meredith closed her eyes and concentrated hard. She hadn’t had to do that in many years in order to bend the power she was imbued with to her will. At least there was some small amount left and it certainly helped to have a snow source for her to create a blade cupped in her hands. As the blade grew in size, the snow she touched reduced and disappeared.

It was painstaking business cutting her bonds with both hands tied and she nicked herself many times before they finally fell away. She rubbed her wrists and pulled the gag out of her mouth. It was tempting to fling the dagger at her less than courteous rescuer but she knew she hadn’t the strength, or the resources, to survive in the world alone…at least…not yet.

She yanked the reins from his hand and he turned in shock, seeing her unfettered and kicking her horse into a gallop. “Catch me if you can!” She cried as she thundered past him.

The slope they were on fell away quite steeply and she leaned backwards and gave the horse its head. When it reached flatter ground she pulled herself upright and cried out in glee. The horse lengthened its stride and suddenly she was flying across the snowy plain, the icy cold air whistling past her in glorious abandon, her hair streaming out behind her.

She was free!

Less than twelve hours ago the outlook on life was decidedly grim. But now, suddenly and wonderfully, she was free!

Not even her monumental defeat at the height of battle could dampen her delight.

She was free!

As she raced along the snow she heard the sound of hooves close behind and getting closer with every beat. She looked over her shoulder and saw the grimly determined face of Evander bearing down on her, having picked the superior horse when he’d plonked her on hers.

But nothing spurred Meredith on like a challenge and she laughed at his pursuit, dug her heels in to her horse and whipped through the air and across the plain, slowing only when she approached the line of trees on the far side. Breathless and buzzing with energy she pulled back a little on the reins. She didn’t have time to turn to see where Evander was because his hand caught her shoulder, threw her down off the horse and into the snow on her back. She looked up, winded and in shock as he leapt down off his horse and lowered his sword at her.

“Don’t you ever try that again!” He bellowed, the tip a hair’s breadth from her neck.

She smiled despite her panting. “What good is a run if no one is chasing you?” She asked as if all was completely innocent. “Lighten up a little Evander or Janus or whoever you are. I wasn’t running from you.”

“Looked like it to me.”

“Please…” She held out her hand and waited for him to take it…which he never did. He stepped back and allowed her to clamber to her feet. “Chivalry is dead it seems.” She flicked her hair back and felt the soft, comforting touch of snow shaking free from her dark tendrils. Evander held out rope and she sighed dramatically. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I’ll decide that thank you.” He was rough binding her hands.

“That hurts.” Meredith muttered trying to yank away.

“It’s meant to.”

“Does Jé Kinah know you have a cruel streak in you?” She smirked when she saw his hardened expression flinch. “Oh I see…a recent development then?”

“All I want to hear out of you is how I can find Jé Kinah. If you keep talking nonsense I will gag you again…with my sock.” He lifted her up with ease for she was light and set her on her horse with a touch more decorum than he’d done before. He took care to take up her reins and wrapped them around his wrist. “Now, where is Jé Kinah?”

Meredith looked at him incredulously. “How should I know?”

Evander’s eyes became as wide as saucers and he stared at her in shock. She stared back at him as though his question was the stupidest she’d ever heard. “What?”

“I don’t know where she is.”

Evander grimaced. “You told me you knew she was alive and that you also knew where she was. Was it all a lie to gain your freedom?”

Meredith seemed affronted by his question. “I do not lie.” She retorted smartly then jumped as he drew out his sword and held it up so that the point was against her chest, hovering over her heart.

“If we ride fast I can return you to the chateau where I will personally rally for your immediate beheading.” He muttered, looking back over his shoulder in the vague direction of the chateau. He could see dirty, smoky clouds above the tree line and wondered if a violent, angry hoard was chasing them down.

“Even though you’d likely join me at the block?” She was stunned by his grim expression.

“I would ask for nothing less.”

Meredith rolled her eyes at his melodramatic tone. “You really are Prince Charming and the Knight in shining armour, aren’t you? All the pretentious, self righteous do good-ing in the world rolled up and stuffed into one person.” She shook her head. “Do not sacrifice your life unless you absolutely have to.”

He glowered at her. “Do I have to?”

“I said she was alive. Of that there is no doubt. I am alive so too must she be.” Meredith tossed her curls imperiously. “I cannot live without her. As to where she is, I never said I knew. I said I would help you find her.”

“Which is an empty promise in itself…unless you know something.” Evander said darkly.

“I know how to find her. But in order to do that, we have a long way to travel.”

“In which direction.”

“East.”

“How far?”

“Farther than you’ve ever gone before.” Meredith saw the question in his eyes. “The Far East.”

“And what, pray tell, is in the Far East that will help us find Jé Kinah?”

Meredith leaned towards him with a smile on her face. “We need to find a lamp.”

Many leagues later…

Evander tilted his head and felt his muscles twist and something cracked. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Despite the fact that they’d been on the run for six weeks, he still found there were days where his body just didn’t cope with the constant riding. He allowed himself a dark smile. Perhaps he was getting old. Perhaps the events of the last three months had aged him more than he realised. He had found his love, nearly killed his love, become a traitor and was now a fugitive with a woman whose need for domination had brought war to almost every country they crossed. Despite the fact that they were crossing countries he had only heard rumours about and certainly never visited, he hadn’t let up on their exhausting pace. Maja’s sisters and daughters could overtake them if they figured out which way they had gone. The thought of their furious faces bearing down on them only spurred on his resolve to travel faster and longer.

Perhaps he would be enjoying the journey…if his travel companion wasn’t such a pain in the…

“…as for your sock, it stinks like mould. And not the good mossy kind but the, you have an infection and your foot is going to fall off, kind. Do not be putting that disgusting thing back in my mouth.”

Evander rubbed his calloused hand down his face and sighed deeply. It had been tempting to gag her mouth, bind her limbs and strap her to the saddle like a sack of potatoes. But the strangeness of their appearance would have invoked attention that he didn’t want. So, apart from binding her hands which he knew she could cut her way out of if she had access to snow or ice, she rode with him as an equal, her horse tethered to his in case she felt like streaking away at a wild gallop again.

But he was beginning to wonder if the gag might be necessary.

“Goodness knows what kinds of germs I might have caught off that thing. And, may I add, you need the sock at night. When we find Jé Kinah I am going to tell her in explicit detail that you snore. And not a nice soothing, put you to sleep, kind of snore. But a, it would wake the dead, snore. There are pigs in this world that could learn a thing or two from you. It was like some kind of snorting, horrible beast…” Then she proceeded to impersonate his snoring which went on for several minutes as she seemed to enjoy making the noises.

“Oh for temporary deafness.” Evander prayed quietly. He then jumped out of his skin when he heard her squeal and spun around to see her pointing. “What is it?”

“A snow fox! A beautiful, glossy, white snow fox! It was just there!”

Evander felt his already taut nerves fray just that little bit more and he gritted his teeth together and faced forwards, sure she was talking endlessly, mindlessly just to get a reaction out of him. It seemed there was no end to her babbling. Where Jé Kinah was quiet, introspective and even needed him to draw her out, Meredith was outgoing, vibrant and altogether loud. She had a question or opinion on everything and made a running commentary on their journey so far.

“Snow animals are the most beautiful. A regular old fox? Red and brown? Boring. A bear, black and brown...tedious. A polar bear, white and beautiful and savage. A regular old horse?” She sneered. “Too much colour. An Eroin…glorious!”

“Pity your hair is so dark.” Evander couldn’t help but say.

Meredith went quiet for a moment. “The one thing I didn’t think to change.” She sighed. “No matter how much snow I coated it with, it was still dark brown. Where we are going their hair is truly black with this incredible blue shine. You might want to think about letting your hair grow long. You will be all the more popular with long, fair hair. The women will not be able to keep their hands off you.”

“Then I will shave my head.” Evander vowed with grim satisfaction.

Meredith moaned loudly. “You are so dramatic! What is the harm in a little teasing?”

Evander twisted in his saddle and glared at her. “You or me?”

Meredith shrugged. “Both.” She laughed when he turned back to face the front. “You know I thought Jé Kinah was the one who took herself too seriously. Even she would have a hard time keeping up with the dark rain cloud you keep around your head.”

“Then we are a perfect match.”

Meredith made a snorting noise which was remarkably unladylike and expressed herself perfectly. “When are we stopping? I’m hungry.”

The good thing about the route they were going was that there were small villages dotted along the way. Evander had been clever and made sure his purse was full of gold, silver and a good scattering of copper. They usually rode until they came to a village and were able to barter for room and food. Despite the oddness of their ‘relationship’ most people were willing to overlook that when their pockets were a little heavier.

Several times they been forced to camp outside and Meredith had not let Evander forget that she hated every second of it. Since then he had endeavoured to find them accommodation if at all possible. It was not worth her consternation to do otherwise. So, as the sun began to go down Evander urged his and Meredith’s horses, at a faster pace. He had seen a village in the distance from a hillside and wanted to reach it before dark. It was a rambling village, mostly built from stone but with a scattering of wood and thatch buildings. The tavern was easy enough to find and, after a brief language barrier problem, Evander was able to indicate they wanted food and a room to stay.

The trouble with travelling the way they were, he was getting farther and farther from the lands he knew and the languages he had learnt. Still, money talked and with some simple hand gestures, with sound effects provided by Meredith, they were able to make do. The tavern was bustling with heat and activity. It seemed people preferred to be there than in their own homes, using the tavern’s own firewood to keep the chill at bay.

Despite the fact that they were now in Spring, the cold persisted. There was still snow on the ground but some of it had begun to melt and now and then Evander spied fresh green buds clinging to barren tree branches. His soul yearned for warmer weather.

“I am not sure what this was when it was alive.” Meredith remarked, carving into his thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He looked up, annoyed at his interrupted reverie. Meredith was eyeing her meal with a great deal of scepticism. It didn’t taste all that bad to Evander but then he was used to war rations. He poked at the chunks of meat swimming in gravy with pieces of carrot and other assorted vegetables. “Some kind of animal…maybe. Could have been a person. It is chewy. Perhaps that’s how they deal with their elderly in this country. Put them in their stew.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“I never said I didn’t like it. I am just not sure it should be eaten.”

Evander stabbed a piece of meat with the rudimentary carved fork and looked at it, his stomach churning. He refused to allow Meredith the pleasure of knowing she had unnerved him and bit into it, chewing with faked enthusiasm.

Meredith speared a piece of hers and studied it. “You know Jé Kinah ate people, don’t you?” Evander’s gagging and coughing was so loud that several people nearby looked at him in alarm. He managed to swallow his mouthful, though his eyes watered to do so and the lump never seemed to go all the way down. Meredith looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“Really? While I’m eating?”

“Just a thought.” Meredith dropped the meat back in her stew and pushed it away. “But she did. Lots of people. Lots of men. I hear there are spiders that do much the same thing. After mating the female eats the male.”

“She didn’t mate with anyone.” He said sharply.

“But she did eat them. Knights, princes…anyone foolish enough to follow the scent of a damsel in distress.” Meredith looked around the room. A chant had started. It seemed some musicians were reluctant to start playing their instruments and needed encouragement. “I wonder what they tasted like…”

Evander sighed. There was no way he was touching his food now. He opted for his warm ale which wasn’t nearly potent enough to numb his ears from her words.

“It was the dragon that ate them.” He said coldly, resenting that she had managed to get under his skin.

“Are you sure it was always the dragon?”

Evander gave her a withering look and went to drain his ale. Suddenly an image flashed before his eyes, of Jé Kinah with blood around her mouth, having somehow killed a man despite being defenceless… His ale drooped down and landed on the table as a cold shiver washed over him. He felt sick.

“It wasn’t her fault.” He swallowed. “The dragon buried itself deep in her.”

“It didn’t get there without her permission.” Meredith pointed out then smiled, brightly. “Music!”

The musicians, coaxed from their meals and ales, had gathered together and struck up a happy, folksy melody. Tables and chairs were shoved back so that there was room for dancing and a circle of obliging patrons linked arms and began to dance around and around, clapping and twirling, stamping their feet in time to the music. An angular man eyed Meredith, who was clapping merrily and held out his hand.

“No.” Evander muttered.

“I am free. You are not.” She laughed, took the stranger’s hand and was immediately folded into the dancing fray. She didn’t know the steps and it was clear she was making most of it up as she went along. Evander ground his teeth together and shovelled down the food with grim determination. He used the ale to wash everything down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Meredith was never far from his gaze. He didn’t trust her statement of helping him find Jé Kinah. He suspected that, given the opportunity, she would bolt for freedom.

Her wild and carefree dancing garnered much laughter and clapping from the peasants in the tavern. She looked over at him, her cheeks flushed and her dark hair springing from the loop she had tied it in. She spun towards him and held out her hand. Evander just shook his head, even when she fluttered her eyelashes and, after a moment, she went back to dancing.

It irritated him that, scant weeks from mounting a full scale assault on many countries that he travelled through and loved, this foolish young woman was dancing like she hadn’t a care in the world. He burned angrily in her direction, wishing she would feel the responsibility of her actions and accept the consequences of them. But she didn’t spare him another glance in her revelry. In the end Evander had to wait until one of her wild, dancing turns brought her within arm’s reach and he whipped out his hand, grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. She half fell against him, her eyes shining with exertion and her lips parted, rosy red and moist.

“My dear sir,” she said coyly, her voice dripping with not so subtle meaning, “all you had to do was ask…” Evander turned her so that her arm was twisted behind her back and marched her through the tavern to their room. He shoved her inside and barred the door behind them. Meredith huffed at him, exasperated. “You really should lighten your mood. A little dancing is good for the soul. And the people here are very amicable and lively.”

“I wonder how pleasant they would be if they knew you had brought war to their doorstep and would have covered their lovely village in a mountain of snow?” Evander snapped angrily.

“Please…I am no different to any other tyrant that has tried to conquer the earth.”

“So they should welcome them in to their tavern without hostility?” Evander shook his head. “You watched people die!”

“People always die. It is the way of things. I also watched my own soldiers die.”

“With a perverse pleasure no doubt.”

“They died for me. I was their queen.”

“You said tyrant before.” Evander remarked. “How can you treat life so carelessly?”

“I do as was done to me. If you want someone to blame, look no further than your self-righteous elf lover. Her kind believed that they were above humans and Jé Kinah was no different.”

“You may have been a part of each other but you don’t know her at all.” Evander’s rage ignited.

“I know what her back looks like as she walks away from her own flesh and blood!” Meredith’s eyes glittered with tears, but whether they were born of anger or sorrow, Evander couldn’t tell. “Are you ignorant of that sight...or perhaps you know it all too well?”

The breath was sucked out of Evander’s lungs, images of Jé Kinah walking away from him coming in unwelcomed yet damning waves. He couldn’t answer her. He didn’t have the breath to respond to her accusation...or the energy to deny the all too possible truth.

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. The room was thick with atmosphere, to the point of suffocation. Evander couldn’t shake off the mood as easily as Meredith who shrugged and turned away. “I do hope the bed is more comfortable than the last place we stayed.” She looked at him. “I wish to bathe. I am tired of smelling like horse.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, attempting to hold his own against her constant mind game onslaught. “I am tired of you smelling like it too but you are not going to bathe.” Evander pulled out his bedroll and, after making sure the window was impossible for Meredith to escape out of, settled down to sleep by the doorway. He pulled his heavy boots off and they hit the ground with a thunk. They didn’t have clothes in which to sleep, simply shedding their outer layers so that they were a little more comfortable. Evander lay down on his bedroll, using his bundled up coat as a pillow. His eyes landed on Meredith who removed her coat and vest, leaving her in her tunic and tights. She peeled back the covers carefully, checking for the mice and vermin that she swore was in every filthy tavern they stopped in and yet never found.

Evander had insisted she take the bed in their room. He was, after all, a Prince and a Knight and at the very least he should be chivalrous, even to a repulsive wretch like she. The other reason was if he slept by the door, she couldn’t escape. He was thinking, staring off into the distance when he heard Meredith chuckle and blinked, seeing her smug face looking at him. He had been gazing in her direction without realising it.

“Do you like what you see?” She asked, her dark curls resting on her shoulders, framing her face so that her lovely features were all he could see. “You don’t have to sleep there you know. You could take the bed.”

Evander knew what she was implying but decided feigning ignorance would be safer. “And make you sleep on the floor? I think not.”

“Oh no. I meant you could sleep in the bed with me. It is not very big…but we could share.” She smiled fetchingly at him.

“And cause Jé Kinah to doubt me?”

“It is not as if you’d be betraying her. After all, we were one person once. But if you really are so concerned…I promise I’d never tell…”

Evander’s nerves snapped and he sat up, glaring at her. “Do you even hear what comes out of your mouth? Have you any idea the filth that you profess?” He shook his hands by his head. “I mean, look at you! You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and yet every time you speak, it is like you cover yourself in manure. You disgust me.” He lay back down and rolled over, keeping his back to her. He shut his eyes tight and felt his hands clench. He was so angry that he didn’t go to sleep for ages and knew that tomorrow was going to be a long day.

It was a long day…but it was a surprisingly quiet one.

Evander had been sure that Meredith would have crowed her victory over him all day, delighted that she had triggered a reaction in him. But she was very quiet and at first he enjoyed the peace…until it began to unnerve him. He kept looking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there, certain that only her absence would keep him from hearing her constant flow of chatter. And yet she was still there, still on the horse, hands bound and looking ahead with a vague expression on her face. She saw his every glance and he would turn away, burning in embarrassment, sure she was going to mock him or start talking.

But she never did.

It was early afternoon that he realised he couldn’t take the silence anymore. He pulled on the reins to bring her mount up beside his and glared at her.

“I give up. Talk!”

She looked at him in surprise and turned away. “I have nothing to say.”

“Of course you do. You always have something to say. You are never quiet.” Evander couldn’t believe he was starting to feel a touch guilty at his harsh words the night before.

Meredith said nothing for a while and Evander faced forwards again, giving up.

“Am I beautiful?”

Evander made a sound that was a mix between a huff and a snort. He looked at Meredith, expecting to see her coy, flirtatious eyes on him, daring him to agree or disagree. But she was staring ahead of them as they rode through the countryside.

“I am sure you have been told as much many times before. You do not need to hear it from me.”

Meredith frowned. “I was called beautiful by the soldiers in my army often. Goblins, trolls…werewolves…but I was always a little sceptical that they saw beauty in their own image. Did that make me scaly, slobbery…hairy?” She looked at Evander and he saw, for the first time ever, a truly sincere question in her eyes. He was so astounded by this fact that he couldn’t think to answer her. “Also they were my minions, at my mercy. Even if they weren’t comparing me to their own kind…was it all just flattery?”

“You had a maze made of ice mirrors.” Evander blurted. “You never looked at yourself?”

Meredith shrugged. “What do I know? My father called my mother beautiful. She was fair and, well…an elf. I didn’t really look like her…” She looked at him. “No one ever called me beautiful that did not have an ulterior motive. You hate me and you said I am beautiful. What do I trust?”

Evander was speechless and couldn’t think of what to reply. He mulled over it for a long while, their travelling returning to the tense silence of before.

That night they had little choice in their accommodations. There was no village along their route for them to stay in so Evander found a sheltered hollow for them to wait out the night. The snow had begun to soften and turn the ground into mud. There was no point in trying to light a fire so, as the half moon rose above their heads, easily seen through the mostly barren branches around them, they simply made do. Meredith regained some of her usual tenacity and complained about the rough accommodations but without her usual vigour. Evander couldn’t trust her to stay at the campsite while he hunted so they had some meagre rations from his satchel. He made a mental note to replenish their stores as it was very possible villages would become few and far between as they continued east.

He watched Meredith nibble at the stale bread and felt another pang of guilt. It was irrational, hopelessly stupid of him to feel anything but anger and hate towards this woman and yet he couldn’t shake a sense of sadness as he saw a glimmer of her true self betrayed by his harsh words.

“This makes the stew we ate last night almost edible.” He joked lamely and she nodded, looking around.

“I hate sleeping out in the open.” She remarked. “Animal sounds…trees…hard, lumpy ground…”

“The cold night air…”

“No. The cold never bothered me. I like the cold.” Meredith said softly. “After everyone left me…the cold was all I had left…and it was like a blanket.”

Evander put down his meal with very little regret and leaned against the tree, studying her. “I’ve never heard anyone talk about the cold like a blanket before.” Meredith wasn’t bothered by the remark. “How did you…become…the way you became?” He scrunched his face and waved his hand. “That…that came out wrong.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” Meredith looked at him. “The long version or the short version?”

“I’m a little tired.”

“Short it is!” Meredith sat up. “There was a human man and there was a she-elf. They had a baby girl and then the man was discovered to have a wife and family elsewhere. The sorrow killed the she-elf and then a demon offered power beyond imagining to the girl as long as she agreed to rip herself in two. The elf girl went on to be a creature of death and destruction, killing her own father within hours of her empowerment while the discarded human girl crawled back to her empty home, gathered what she could and ran away.” Evander was stunned at how matter of factually Meredith told the story. Jé Kinah told it with weight, sorrow and guilt. Meredith told it like it was someone else’s. “And she ran and ran and ran…to the far east and tried to lose herself in a culture that felt like it belonged to another world.” Meredith looked up. “The end.”

Evander paused. “That’s it?”

“What more do you want?”

“How did you come about your power? Did you make a deal with something or someone?”

“Ha!” Meredith laughed. “I was offered nothing and what I gained, I scraped and bartered and worked for every inch of it…unlike some.” Meredith looked at Evander, her chin held high in the manner of a queen, her eyes glinting with blue fire. Despite her light tone, every time Meredith spoke of Jé Kinah, even if she was only alluded to, there was a brittleness to her voice that betrayed the anger she had stuffed deep within and hoped to bury. After all their time together it was possible, however inconceivable, that he was beginning to understand more of what she didn’t say.

“I’m sorry I brought it up. That memory must be painful.”

Meredith shook her head, her curls rippling with the motion. “No.” She said. “It was at the time but I put it behind me.” Evander immediately heard his own heart in her words. How often had he told himself that after Jé Kinah had cruelly and nearly forcibly ditched him the day after the ball? He knew that Meredith, despite her words and tone, was deceiving no one but herself. Meredith saw his gaze and raised her eyebrows. “You look surprised.”

“To hear someone speak so…openly about such a tragedy…” He brushed aside the remark, knowing that to point out her obsession with her past would only meet with denial.

“I am honest. I do not lie,” Meredith paused for effect, “unlike some…”

“You keep saying that.” Evander shot, feeling his ire rise. “Pray tell, who are you speaking about?”

“You know who.”

“Jé Kinah never lied.” He retorted.

“Sure she did.”

“No she did not. At least not about anything important.” Evander glared at Meredith when she snorted with laughter. “If she did it was to protect me, to protect others.”

“From herself no doubt.”

“Of course!”

“Oh how noble and self sacrificing of her!” Meredith laughed.

Evander’s blood boiled over and he stood up, Meredith following suit but he still towered over her slight frame. “How can you treat her with such disrespect? How can you laugh at the sacrifices she made? She despised her mistakes and did everything she could to correct them.”

“And I suppose she told you everything so that you could make a fair and honest judgment of her?”

Evander felt his breath catch in his throat. Meredith glowered at him, daring him to lie. Evander didn’t dare. They would both know it if he did. “If I had asked her, she would have said.”

“Really? Truly? Are you so blind that you honestly believe that? My ‘other half’ may not have lied but there is a difference between telling a lie and omitting the truth. I am, at the very least, honest and that it a far greater virtue.”

“Yes but you do not know truth!” Evander exploded at her. “You can be as honest as you please but until you know truth, you are just a clanging symbol that no one wants to listen to. How can you possibly think that anyone wants to listen to that? You know nothing about the truth of beauty, the way who you are and what you say and do affects how you appear. You don’t know the truth about the sanctity of life, the importance of love and the weight of your own poor decisions. You may be honest that you don’t care, well maybe you should! Maybe you should give a damn!”

“You know, you’re right!” Meredith gasped. “Maybe I should give a damn. In fact, maybe I should travel around the countryside wearing guilt like a boulder on my shoulders and damning myself with every step. In fact, why don’t I be damned!”

“Why don’t you?!” Evander roared. “I should have left you to rot in that cell! I should have found another way!”

“Ha!” Meredith snapped at him. “You knew there was no other way.” Evander’s hands balled into fists and Meredith eyed him sharply, sensing his breaking point was coming. “I am Jé Kinah’s only hope. You cannot do this without me.”

“No.” Evander hissed between his gritted teeth, his jaw so tight it felt like it would snap. “I am her hope. You have done nothing but damn everyone and everything that touches you. Now turn around.” Meredith did so and he bound her hands so tight he was sure it hurt but he beyond caring. He forced her to sit down at the base of a tree and tethered her to it. “Please enjoy your accommodations. If there is anything I can do, do not hesitate to ask.” Then he gagged her with a sock, slumped onto his bedroll and turned his back on her.

He scrunched himself into a ball, fuming that he had been suckered in by her big eyes and sad story. She was a witch, an unfeeling, selfish, uncaring witch! How he could have mustered even a drop of compassion for her was beyond his comprehension now. His anger ate into his soul most of the way through the night and it was only when exhaustion finally overcame his fury that he slept…

…and when he woke up, Meredith was gone.