Page 24 of Winter Queen
As much as that makes me uncomfortable, I might need this in the future. I know there will be battles. I won’t stay in the Palace and watch others be killed; I’ll be out there, fighting with my Guardians, getting revenge for all Angus and the Morrigan have done to me and my family.
“How large can lightning be?” I ask Thor, thinking of how effective this would have been back at the Calanais Standing Stones. “How big of an area can it cover?”
“That solely depends on your magic and how much energy you want to throw into it. Lightning is powerful, but it also uses up a lot of your energy. I’d suggest keeping it as a last resort, because if you use a large amount of it, you’ll be weak after.”
“Let’s imagine you were fighting a demon army.” Thor raises an eyebrow but says nothing. “How many demons could you kill in one go?”
He thinks for a moment. “I think my record is about two hundred. You, with your power… maybe half of that. But as I said, be careful with it. Lightning has a mind of its own, and sometimes it takes more than it gives.”
I nod. I’m well aware of that.
“Will you be fighting with us?” I ask him.
His expression changes and he gives me a tiny bow.
“Of course. I stand with Queen Beira, and now, with you. My soldiers are ready to assist whenever you need them. So are those of my brother. We’ve always stood with the Winter Realm and we will not stop now.”
Warmth runs through me as I take in his words. I kind of want to hug him, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. He still isn’t wearing a shirt, and Frost is watching. I don’t want him to think that I fancy the God of Thunder. I mean, he’s pretty, yes, but I have my Guardians. They’re enough.
First though, I need to get one of them back on my side. Mission: Crispin is about to begin.
I stretch out a hand. “Thank you for the lesson, it’s been very enlightening.”
Thor roars with laughter.
Chapter Eight
Crispin isn’t in his room, nor in my mother’s, nor in the hospital wing.
I follow the bond that connects me to him, using it like a compass. It leads me upwards, high up one of the towers. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this one.
The magic stairs transport me to the top faster than I could ever run up the steps. It also has the advantage that I’m not out of breath at all when I reach the top floor.
A curious sight awaits me. It looks like someone took a garden pavilion and transported it on top of a tower. Delicate columns are holding up a circular roof which is protecting a simple iron-wrought bench from the elements. Who had the idea of putting a bench on a tower? I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets blown away by the next storm.
“Sit with me,” a quiet voice says. Crispin. He’s not on the bench and it takes me a moment to spot him. He’s leaning against one of the pillars, his legs dangling down the side of the tower. One wrong move and he’d be falling. Is he feeling that depressed? No, he has wings, he’d just fly away. Still… I’m worried about him.
Carefully, I take a seat next to him, staying a bit further away from the edge.
“How are you?” I ask gently, but he doesn’t respond. I’m tempted to reach out and put an arm around his shoulders, but I resist the temptation.
This is so awkward. It took me a long time to get Crispin to open up, and now it seems all that was for nothing. He’s pulled up all his barriers again, and it’s my fault.
I almost killed him.
I told him to write down what happened to him when he was a prisoner of the Morrigan. I made him go through that all again.
I didn’t listen to him when he told me to stay away from Blaze’s sparklies.
I made him open his heart to me, and then I crushed it.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I know I’m saying that far too late, but I’m really, really sorry.”
He doesn’t reply. I fold my hands, pressing my fingernails into my palms. That pain is only an echo of what’s going on in my chest though. Crispin’s silence is slicing through my heart, cutting me into little pieces. And I deserve it. I did the same to him.
“I hope you ignored what I told you to do back when… when the messenger came…”
“No,” he says quietly, almost inaudible. “I wrote it all down and gave it to Tamara. It was necessary, you were right.”
