Midwinter

"Hear me, Lord Silverdun," the Queen whispered in his ear. "In your lifetime, the magic will go out of the world, and the one who did this to you will be the cause of it. When that time comes, We will no longer be fit to rule. You must be prepared for that day, for I will call on you by name. This is for your ears alone."

The Queen gently stroked Silverdun's face with her fingertips. As she touched him, the lines of his face stretched and rearranged themselves. When she moved her hands away, he was nearer to the old Silverdun, recognizable at least, and no longer misshapen. But he was not the same.

"I've restored your face as much as I'm able," said the Queen. "Some of the changes wreaked upon you are more than skin deep, and not all of them were caused by the one who cast that spell upon you. Wear this, your third and final face, with pride. It suits you."

"Your majesty," said Silverdun, bowing.

"What boon will you take, Lord?"

"Only that I be allowed leave to help restore the Temple Aba-e in Sylvan."

"You go with my blessing," said the Queen. "The followers of Aba are no enemies of Ours, any more than the north wind is at war with the south wind. Sometimes they meet and cause a storm, but neither despises the other for what it is."

"You are most gracious, Majesty."

"Enough," said the Queen. She nodded to the Chamberlain. "Take these away and find them suitable quarters in the guest wing. Have a meal prepared for the high court and the lambs slain. Leave Mauritane here with Us."

Silverdun, Satterly, and Raieve filed out of the throne room following the Chamberlain.

The Queen returned to her throne and knelt before it, taking the hand of Geracy's daughter. Together they rose and approached the center of the throne room.

"As my honored servant," the Queen said to Mauritane, "We offer you the only gift We have that is worth what you have given Us. Our secret."

Mauritane did not understand.

"You risked everything to bring this young woman to Us, and you never asked the reason."

"It is not necessary for me to know the reason," said Mauritane.

Again, the Queen smiled. "Your loyalty borders on faith, Mauritane. Listen, and We will tell you a story."

The Queen led Elice down to the floor of the throne room and they sat opposite each other, the Queen on the left, Elice on the right. They locked eyes, and the Queen reached up and took the crown from her head, placing it gently on Elice's unlined brow.

"When I was a girl," she said, switching to the first person, "I was innocent and brave. I was one of the most powerful of those who dwelt here during the time of the Great Reshaping. I could bend the entire world to my will if I so desired. I wanted only what was best for the Faerie Kingdom, and in my innocence I believed that I could provide it. I tricked the son of Aba into becoming my husband. There he sits." She cast a tender glance at Auberon, still staring blankly into the distance. "If he remains in that body, I do not know. I removed the power of speech from him so long ago."

She returned her eyes to Elice. The air around the two of them seemed to shift and move, as though they sat in a desert mirage. "All of the magic that went into the Great Reshaping was locked into the forms it created. I realized too late that this magic was irretrievable and that there was no more to replace it when it was gone. There were some who would have used up all of the magic in this world and made it a place without miracles and wonder. I believed that was wrong. I wanted the Faerie lands as I knew them, so I gathered my strength and I struck the magic of change from my people. I wrestled the power to destroy my kingdom from their grasp. I was devoted, you understand, to securing the future of my land."

The air continued to shimmer. Mauritane thought he could see the shapes of the two women begin to shift around them.

"After a hundred years had passed, the Seelie lands were mine. Mab was the only one powerful enough to stand against me, and either I or Aba removed her from my sight. She went north to make a place in her own image, and I remained in mine. But all was not well here. In my singleness of purpose, owning the land as I did, the warmth began to flow from it. The birds stopped singing, and the hot winds ceased to blow from the west. The land of summer's twilight began to grow cold, and snow began to fall, blowing down from the northern wastes. The River Ebe froze in its course."

Mauritane blinked, trying to follow what was going on before him. The light in the room had gone funny, and his eyes were playing tricks on him.