Page 26 of Wings of Starlight

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—and refrained from reminding him again that she was not yet queen. She found herself hungry for more details of how exactly things worked in Winter, if only to shake off this…flutteriness. “Was there a Warden of the Winter Woods who trained you?”

He shook his head. “He left behind his notes. That’s all I had.”

“Oh.” Clarion could not imagine how difficult it would be to have to cobble things together from what someone else had left behind—and to do it entirely alone. The Seasonal Ministers in the warm seasons were the same: one faded before another arrived, the two never overlapping. But the queen served as a guiding light and a steady rock, there to help a new arrival to their feet. Here was yet another way they’d left Winter to fend for itself. Guilt sat heavy in her stomach.

Milori, clearly sensing the dark turn of her thoughts, offered her a small smile. “They were very thorough notes, rest assured.”

That startled a laugh out of her. The mental image of a newly arrived Milori, harried and riffling through a centuries-old tome to find the answers, had cut through her gloom like the abruptness of a summer rain.

“Well,” she said, “I hope they were well organized.”

“By topic,” he replied solemnly.

“Good.” Clarion hesitated, suddenly reluctant to leave. “Well, I shouldn’t linger. My guard will be beside herself if I don’t return by full dark.”

He glanced up. “You should hurry, then.”

Indeed, she should. The moon had shimmered into view overhead, a thin waxing crescent, like an eye cracking open. “I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Take care, Clarion.”

The sound of her name sent warmth flooding through her. But it was short-lived. When she blinked, he had gone again. He’d left behind only a swirl of snow glittering in the scant moonlight.

Come morning, Clarion found Artemis settled in the branches just outside her balcony. The Pixie Dust Tree, evidently possessed by some spark of impish whimsy, had grown a veritable orchard in miniature above her. Neverberries in every shade hung enticingly from its boughs, perfuming the air with a subtle sweetness. Artemis, either completely unaware or pretending not to notice, had apparently decided to occupy herself with whittling. Her thin blade winked in the morning sunlight as she worked. Watching her filled Clarion with renewed fondness.

Few were so dependable.

Last night, Clarion had shut her balcony doors behind her just as full darkness settled like heavy snowfall over Pixie Hollow. The moment the lock clicked behind her, she caught the streak of a fairy’s glow in the corner of her eye. Artemis, slipping out of the tree, as if finally able to rest.

“Well?” Artemis asked now without looking up. “Did you find your Warden of the Winter Woods?”

Clarion did not appreciate the way her traitorous stomach flipped at her choice of words. Milori was certainly nothers. It wasn’t as though Clarion had snuck out for some sort of tryst. “I did.”

At last, Artemis glanced up at her. There was an unmistakable glimmer of hope in her eyes. “And did he have the information you wanted?”

“Not exactly. He has an idea of where to find it, though.” Clarion rested her elbows on the banister and frowned as she propped her chin up on her fists. Now, there was just the small matter of breaking the news of what exactlyfinding itwould entail. She’d just barely convinced Artemis to let hervisitthe border. Conscripting her into a plan to cross it…Well, she would ease into that. “On that note, there is someplace I’d like to go today.”

“Is that so?” Artemis looked so dismayed, Clarion couldn’t help laughing. It was rare to get such an open display of emotion from her.

“Nowhere dangerous, I promise. This time, Iwouldlike to go to Tinker’s Nook. I need to ask Petra a favor.”

Artemis perked up at that but quickly arranged her face into neutrality. “A favor?”

Best to get it over with, she supposed. “I’m hoping she can make something that will allow me to cross into Winter.”

Artemis nearly dropped her knife. She fumbled with it for a moment before fixing Clarion with a look of pure and utter disbelief. “What?”

“For a very short time!” Clarion added hastily. “I need to read a book for him.”

“Read a…?” Artemis trailed off and pinched the bridge of her nose. When her arm fell limply back to her side, it revealed an expression that suggested she’d decided it best not to ask too many questions. When she spoke again, she made a noble effort to sound diplomatic. “Your Highness, are yousurethat is a good idea? I trust your judgment of character, of course, but that is a very dangerous trip to undertake.”

“I know—and I know I’m asking for a lot. But I don’t see any other way forward.”

With a resigned sigh, Artemis pocketed both her whittling knife and her misshapen little sculpture. “Shall we pay the tinker a visit?”

Clarion, nearly boneless with relief, slumped against the banister. “Yes. Thank you.”

Together, they left for Tinker’s Nook, soaring far above the trees. From this vantage point, Pixie Hollow was a quilted sprawl of verdant green and glittering blue. The air was aglow with ribbons of pixie dust as fairies whizzed by. The distant sounds of their laughter reached her from this height, and her chest constricted with sudden emotion. Something so precious needed to be protected.