Chapter Nineteen
At first no one realized what we were doing, but once Holt took me in his arms, people started to turn away from their conversations and their enjoyment of the grounds to watch us dance. I thought I would be self-conscious having all those eyes on me, and I might have been if it hadn't been for Holt's tight hold on my hand and his arm around my waist, steadying me and guiding me through the steps.
As we danced, other couples joined in. At one point even Carley and Nick took a turn. Holt and I just kept dancing. Even after it was completely dark and the lights had come on, casting a warm glow over all of us, we kept dancing. I briefly wondered where his family was, where anyone else was, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that moment of pure happiness.
Finally, after another song ended, Holt and I stopped. There were lots of people dancing in the back courtyard now and everyone spun past in a whirl of bodies.
"Would you like a drink?" Holt asked me, still smiling.
I nodded. I knew my face was flushed.
Then, as I followed him to the table where drinks were being served, I saw Leslie. Her face was as white as snow; her lips formed one thin line. I had never in my life seen anyone look so angry.
In that one moment the evening turned from brightness to dread. I looked around for Samuel, hoping to spot him and point out what his "cousin" looked like, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Holt and I found Carley and Nick sitting together on a bench, sharing some food. I sat down on a nearby bench while Nick went to get us waters.
Eyeing me, Carley said, "Well, I guess you've made your choice."
I had just been reaching for one of the chocolate-covered strawberries on her plate, but this made me pause mid-move. "What?"
"You didn't see Samuel earlier?" Carley asked, her voice accusatory.
"No, when?"
"While you and Holt were dancing. He came in and watched the two of you for a few minutes," she said.
"When did he leave?"
"When his mother came in. If it's possible, she looked even angrier than his Leslie over there," she said. So Carley had noticed Leslie's wild-eyed look. And Mrs. Cheshire had come. That wasn't good.
"Don't get me wrong," said Carley. "I'm all for love and stuff, but I think they're mad."
I felt my heart sink. I knew she was right.
I didn't have much time to think about it, though, because just as Carley finished speaking, the Roths' French doors, which faced the garden, exploded. The noise and splitting of glass caused everyone at the party to cry out. I ducked down low, covering my head, hoping to avoid any of the flying debris.
All around me I could hear coughing and panicked questions. I dared to look and see what had happened, then wished I hadn't. I couldn't believe my eyes. Standing in the doorway, her red coat framed by the damage she had just done, was the Winter Queen.
Looking at her now, I was sure that there was no part of Mrs. Cheshire left there. Her hair was blacker than midnight and her marks gleamed out into the darkness, framed by the palest skin.
She took a step forward, then another step. Trailing behind her were the women of her court. Lydia was one of them, and when she started to come into the back garden Leslie came out of the house and moved to join her.
When the Winter Queen saw me, her roving eyes stopped. I gasped as she raised her hand, pointing toward me. Everyone in the garden had scattered. Even Carley and Nick were no longer sitting on the bench, but hiding behind a large potted plant. The Cheshire girls behind the Winter Queen had fanned out, giving her wings on either side. Every one of them looked just as nasty as their queen. I could see the garden around me withering and dying from the cold.
I choked. I could feel myself turning icy, so cold I couldn't move. I imagined that on the outside I looked like an oversized ice cube. I was entranced in her stare and encased in ice. I tried to take a breath, to fill my lungs with air, but they wouldn't move. I struggled wildly, like I knew they did in the movies, but it felt like my brain wasn't connected to my body, and my limbs did not move on command.
Even as I tried to fight, the edges of my vision started to grow black and my mind started to feel heavy. Without air I wasn't going to stay conscious much longer, and with the Winter Queen's cold eyes on me I had very little chance of fighting off unconsciousness or even staying alive.
With my last ounce of clarity I glared back at her. Instead of feeling hate radiate off her the way I had become used to, I was surprised to feel a profound sadness. She was sad that she had to destroy a potential wife for her son, but it had to be done. This mess of a situation where I was supposed to be with him, but he didn't really want me, and I wanted someone else entirely, had to end. And as far as she was concerned, the only way he could move on from it was if I were dead.
The other option, that Holt got me and my power instead, was just too horrible for her to contemplate. And she would stop at nothing until she'd gotten what she wanted, what she knew had to happen.
Suddenly, all the awful stuff of the last few days seemed irrelevant compared to this. The Cheshire girls threatening me now made sense, as did Mrs. Cheshire's fight with Mrs. Roth, and Mrs. Roth's insistence that Holt take me home yesterday. Mrs. Roth had known this was coming.
She had known that Mrs. Cheshire wanted me dead.
I vaguely registered that all of the other guests had faded into the background. Most had fled. I tried one last time to breathe, and when I couldn't, when the blackness became too much, I simply fell sideways, knowing that I was too cold, like an icicle, and that I would shatter onto the bench like a million tiny crystals.
If only I'd gotten to kiss Holt first.
"Stop, stop right now," a familiar voice cried, but I couldn't see who it was. I couldn't think anymore. I slid into darkness.
Then, just before I lost consciousness entirely, I felt something snap inside me. A black anger coupled with a red-hot rage ran through me. I gasped for breath. The anger and rage were being forced out of me. Whatever had its hold on me was being forced away and I took in one painful breath, then another, and another. Gratefully I took great gulps of air. I had never thought it could taste so good.
Finally, I was able to open my eyes, but once again I wished I hadn't. The once-stunning garden of the Roths had now become a crumpled, dead battleground.
The flowers were withered and black, as if a fire had raged and burned them all away. I felt like weeping. All that beauty and life had been destroyed. I looked for the source of whatever had saved me, and to my shock, there was Logan leaning over me.
"Don't get any hero worship ideas about me," he said drily. "Holt attacked the Winter Queen and tried to make her stop hurting you. He just sent me to see if you were alright, since he's a little busy."
I tried to say something, but my throat was dry. Logan handed me a cup of water, and after I'd gulped it down I said, "Where are they?"
Logan's frown deepened. "In the house."
I staggered to my feet. Logan had to grab hold of my arm to keep me from falling.
I pushed my way into the kitchen. The table and chairs showed signs of frost, as did all of the plants, if they weren't already completely dead. I was about to head into the living room when a voice behind me said, "Well, well, still can't listen, I suppose?"
Lydia lounged on the counter, her elbow resting on the smooth tile. She smiled at me. Now that I wasn't being suffocated I could see that she had dressed for the party in something sparkling - black, of course.
I knew very well that I was no match for Lydia. She was more powerful, so I just had to hope I was smarter. Without thinking I grabbed a heavy pot from the stove and heaved it at her. I wasn't even close to hitting her (blame my dad for never making me play softball) but she was forced to duck anyway.
I gave a triumphant whoop, then took the small opening I had while she was distracted by the clattering kitchenware and I rushed past her into the entryway.
I expected to find them al
l there, the Winter Queen, Leslie, the other Cheshires, and the Roths, but the hall was empty. The pressure I had felt a moment ago was still in front of me.
Suddenly I knew where they must be: in the front garden. The Roths must have forced the Winter Queen out of the house and into the garden where her powers might be weaker.
Without hesitating I pushed the front door open, ready for my last confrontation with the Winter Queen.
As soon as I stepped through the door and onto the patio, chaos enveloped me. I could see the Summer Queen locked in battle with the Winter Queen. Susan, Casey, and Holt were squared off with Leslie and two black-haired men I didn't recognize, but who could only be Cheshires. There was no sign of Samuel.
"Stop," I screamed, cupping my dirty hands around my mouth for emphasis. No one stopped. No one even acted like they had heard me.
I felt an almost physical stab to my chest as I realized that everything in the front garden was dead. Even the grass looked brown, brittle, and battered, as if we'd just gone a month without rain, which I can tell you wasn't true.
An overwhelming grief filled me at the sight of all that death.
But I had no time to mourn.
The Summer Queen was sending a steady stream of gold-tinted power at the Winter Queen, who deflected it with her own silver shield. But just as I walked toward them, Mrs. Roth stumbled and the Winter Queen had her chance.
Without thinking, I flung myself forward. If I'd asked anyone, they would have told me I was insane for stepping into the middle of a Fairy magic battle when I had none of my own. Luckily, I was never very good at bowing to other people's opinions, and on this occasion I dove in head first.
Dimly, I heard a familiar male voice screaming for me to stop. I ignored it.
Instead of jumping in front of the stream of magic headed toward Mrs. Roth, I slammed into the Winter Queen. Her magical shield had apparently been there only to stop magic, not to deflect some crazy teenager flinging her body through the air. She was knocked over by the impact, and I felt like my entire body had run smack into a mountain of ice.
I heard the Winter Queen give a cry of shock and felt her trying to disentangle her hands from beneath my body. "Shouldn't you be frozen?" I thought I heard her hiss. I fought hard to keep her pinned, harder than I'd ever fought for anything before in my life. I knew that if she managed to get her hands free, I'd be dead.
With every ounce of strength I had, I squirmed to keep her under me and immobile.
But she was too fast.
With lightning speed her right hand shot up, hitting me square in the temple. She wasn't trying to hit me, though, just touch me. As soon as her skin met mine, my world descended into darkness.
The last thing I heard was someone calling my name . . .
I woke up on my back. I felt like someone was smothering me with a blanket, and I gasped for air. I shoved out, trying to remove whatever was keeping me from breathing, but my hands met only solid, cold walls. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I turned my head from side to side, rubbing it into the dirt on either side of me, but nothing worked. Soon, without air or hope, I sank back into oblivion.
When I woke up the next time I felt better. I no longer felt stifled; instead, a warm breeze played over my face and body. I knew my clothes were no longer on me, which would have concerned me if I hadn't also been aware that a thin sheet had been laid over me. I tried not to smile, but knew that I was anyway.
All around me was the sweet smell of flowers.
I rolled from side to side and lifted my arms up experimentally, meeting no resistance to my movements. I opened my eyes.
I was in a white room. Everywhere I looked there were flowers. Sitting nervously next to my bed was a person, his head bent down so that all I saw was a mass of blond hair.
"Morning," I said, though I had no idea what time it actually was.
His head shot up and he reached for one of my hands. I noticed in a sort of detached way that there was a thin bandage on it and wondered what other parts of me were damaged.
"Thank god. Are you alright?" he asked, his bright green eyes soft and kind.
"I'm fine," I said. "Really." Actually I felt very odd. Sort of light, like I couldn't actually feel anything.
"Good," he said, nodding. "I was worried."
"Why do I feel funny?" I asked.
"Medicine," he replied. "You got a blow to the head, and you hit the ground pretty hard when you tackled the Winter Queen."
For some reason that sounded perfectly normal to me right now. Must be the medicine, I thought.
"You have a black eye," I said. He did indeed, but otherwise he looked fine, which was a relief.
"Lydia punched me," said Holt ruefully.
"You got hit by a girl?" I squeaked. "Awesome."
"Hey," said Holt, laughing. "Not awesome. She hits hard."
Suddenly everything came flooding back to me and I realized that Lydia was part of the Winter Court and I didn't want her hitting Holt.
"She's a terrible person," I said sagely.
"Yeah, well, you need your sleep," he said. "Rest."
"I don't want to rest," I said. "I want to know what happened."
Holt shook his head. "Thanks to you and your tackle of the Winter Queen, everyone is fine. A few bruises here and there, and my mom is completely drained, but everyone will be okay."
"Where's the Winter Queen?" I asked. I was more than a little disappointed that no one had kicked Lydia or Leslie's ass.
"Samuel made her leave," said Holt quietly.
I gasped. "Where is Samuel?"
"Gone," said Holt. "He left with his mother. Someone had to escort her away to make sure she actually went."
I took a deep breath. So Samuel was gone. I guess it made sense. He hadn't wanted any of this to happen in the first place, he had simply wanted Holt to leave me alone, and except for some weird twist of fate he probably would have. Even then I wondered if I'd ever see any face on Samuel besides a cold glare.
But at that moment I didn't care. Particularly because his mother, the Winter Queen, was also gone, and I was here with Holt, who had a black eye.
I sighed. "Okay," I said. I was getting very tired. "Good story."
Holt laughed quietly. "I'll leave you to your rest."
But I wouldn't let go of his hand. He tugged a couple of times on it, but I wasn't giving up. Gently, instead of leaving, he lay down beside me. Carefully he wrapped one arm around me and I turned my head into him. He smelled great, his usual mint and mix of flowers.
"Now I can sleep," I said into his chest. "Now I'm happy." I didn't know how long it would last for, but at that moment I couldn't have cared less.