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  But two decades of servitude had resigned Briska to her fate. Amani was dead and gone, and Maram was surely happy with her devoted lover. Briska's ex-husband surely had plenty of other wives and concubines and perhaps even a new queen to keep him amused. Anyone who knew her had surely forgotten her by now. Except Kun, who never failed to bring another assignment, a new couple to match. Briska had given up any hope of freedom, for the more successful she was, the more couples Kun gave her.

  Nevertheless, she thanked Kun again before the woman disappeared from the mirror, and Briska returned to the delicate task of transforming a warming friendship into something more. If only the girl would forget the incident with the man's brother…

  Thirty-Six

  "Another!" Amani slurred, waving his hand aimlessly. He couldn't recall how many of these potent jugs of wine he'd drunk, but as long as he could still think, he would drink. For wine was harder and harder to get in his homeland, with that new religion that said you shouldn't drink the stuff.

  "How much more do you think you'll need, friend?" the innkeeper asked. He spread his arms. "The taproom is closed, and everyone else has gone to bed. I will go soon, too, and I would advise you to do the same."

  "There is only one bed I want, and it belongs to the queen in her snowy citadel," Amani announced. "But I will never find her, so I must drink to forget. More wine!"

  The innkeeper sighed. "Her bed is cold as ice, my friend, and best forgotten." He set a second cup on the table, then filled first Amani's and then its companion. He lifted his cup in a toast. "To forgetting."

  Amani raised his cup in salute, then downed the contents, ready to bring oblivion.

  Thirty-Seven

  Briska didn't take her eyes off the pair. She'd matched enough couples to know this was the crucial night. She was no seer, so she didn't know the precise moment, but they were both humming with so much…potential for love, something important would happen tonight, and she would ensure it was the right something.

  She watched them eat without even a twinge of hunger, unable to remember how long it had been since she'd last eaten. Years, maybe.

  He asked the girl to dance, then stood up with her, to Briska's surprise. Oh, commoners sometimes danced with the opposite sex, but nobility like this pair were not unlike her people – the ladies danced together, and the men just watched.

  Ah, it surprised Zuleika, too – but it made her smile, so that was all right. And it gave the pair an excuse to link hands, which certainly helped. The room raged with lust – the townspeople might be invisible to anyone else, but Briska saw them clearly. The musicians caught the mood and changed the tune, so that the dancers broke from their long chain into pairs.

  Vardan's spirits soared as he took the enchantress in his arms. He needed no help from Briska at all, for his feelings for Zuleika had proceeded far beyond lust.

  But nothing more could happen in this crowded room. Vardan was the ruler of these people, and while he was certain of his own feelings, he was unsure of hers. A ruler would not want to lose face before his people.

  Briska blinked. No, it wasn't about losing face at all. He cared what his people thought about her, if she rejected him. How strange. A ruler loved by his people.

  So the push must come from Zuleika, not Vardan.

  Zuleika's tongue darted out, moistening her lips, and it gave Briska an idea.

  She concentrated, intensifying the girl's thirst just as one of the servants brought a tray of drinks into the hall. There. She had the pair close to the door, and if they chatted for long enough, one of them would…yes!

  Vardan took her hand and led her out.

  Briska leaned forward, so her nose almost touched the glass, as she watched them go to…a library? A peculiar place for a tryst, but there was no accounting for some people's taste.

  Sure enough, this pair were soon distracted by a hand mirror, their lust fading fast.

  Not if Briska had any say in the matter, she resolved grimly, hitting them both with a seduction spell. "Resist that, I dare you," she muttered.

  She gave them ten seconds, but it only took them six before they kissed. Briska knew her job well. She allowed herself a silent victory cheer.

  A scream pierced the silence, so loud it shook an icicle free from the ceiling to crash into the floor behind Briska.

  Briska cursed. What had she done this time?

  Had Zuleika heard her? Seen her? Somehow known Briska was there?

  All colour drained from Briska's face. If she knew this was Briska's second mistake…if she could pin the blame for Thorn on her…

  Briska watched with mounting dread as she saw Zuleika flee from the other brother, knowing her flight would end in her casting a portal to take her far away. Far from Beacon Isle, but to where?

  Here. Where Briska was no match for the powerful young enchantress.

  Briska fell to her knees. She was doomed. The enchantress would destroy her, and rightly so.

  Briska's eyes fell on the lamp. Kun's mysterious gift.

  She could scarcely conjure a spark any more, so it took some time with the tinder box before a trembling flame sat atop the lamp wick.

  Briska breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe, for no magic could touch her here, and the girl's portal would never reach this eyrie.

  Thirty-Eight

  "Sleeping on tables is not a wise thing to do. What was Kai thinking? My fool of a husband should have offered you a bed," a woman grumbled, far too loud for Amani's liking.

  He lifted his head from his distinctly uncomfortable pillow, glad for the dimness of the taproom. "I was not sleeping. I was merely resting my pounding head for a moment," Amani announced. He reached into his pocket, plucked out a coin and tossed it on the table. "For some quiet while I rest it a little more."

  She laughed. "You'll get no quiet here. Last night's blizzard has blown itself out, and as soon as the old men of the village have nagged their sons into shovelling a path, they will be gossiping about whatever war they fought in that everyone else has forgotten, it was so long ago."

  "I need to find the queen. In her icy castle…and her icy bed." So much for forgetting. He hadn't drunk enough, after all. "No. What I need is more wine."

  "What you need is breakfast and some water, for you are not right in the head. The Snow Queen has been dead these fifteen years and more."

  Amani shook his head. "No, that can't be possible. She lives, I am certain of it." Maram wouldn't have lied. Not to him. Djinn couldn't die.

  The innkeeper's wife folded her arms across her chest. "I stabbed the bitch myself. She kidnapped Kai, and nearly killed him."

  Briska? Kidnap some innkeeper? Why?

  But Amani knew the answer. He'd been a slave himself, forced to obey every stupid order he was given. She'd done it because someone had ordered her to.

  "Even if she'd somehow survived being stabbed in the heart, she'd still need to eat. And no one's seen her come down from her mountain since the day she kidnapped Kai," the woman said firmly. "She's dead and she deserved it."

  Punishing a slave for her master's crimes? Despicable. If this woman had truly tried to kill Briska, then Briska deserved justice. But first he had to find her.

  "Which mountain? Where?" he demanded.

  She narrowed her eyes. "You're a bigger fool than my husband, if you plan to go up there in winter. You'll die for certain, for no one will venture up the mountain until the snow melts in spring."

  Amani seized her shoulders. "Tell me, and I will let you live." He should not be offering this woman her life, not when it was already forfeit for her attempt to murder Briska. Then again, he was no king or lawmaker, and meting out justice was not his job.

  She thrust out a hand and pointed. "Step through the door and you'll see it. Look for the frozen waterfall, and it's perched on the crags above it. Impossible to reach, even in summer, unless you have a witch to help you. If you go up there, the shepherds will bring your body back for burial come spring." Tears formed i
n her eyes. "If she had not taken Kai, I would not have gone up there. As it was…we almost didn't make it back. My family would have mourned us both. If you go up there, think of the family who will come here searching for you. Who will die on the mountain for you?"

  Amani released her. "No one will die for me. I have no family left. She is all the family I ever wanted, and…" He blinked, forcing back what could only be tears. He would not cry in front of this strange, violent woman. "I must go after her, for she is all I have left."

  "Wait until spring. Maybe I could show you the path I took…"

  Amani shook his head. "She has waited long enough. So have I." He rounded the table and headed for the door.

  Without even a backward glance toward the innkeeper's wife, Amani headed out into the snow. His breath froze in his throat, but he strode on, not even pausing as he conjured one layer of fur and then another over his winter clothes. When he reached the outskirts of the village and could be certain there was no one watching, he cast a portal to take him to the top of the glittering waterfall. Mere ice and stone would not keep him from Briska. Not now he was so close.

  Thirty-Nine

  Amani landed in snow, tumbling head over heels in a headlong flight he could not seem to stop until he hit something that knocked the breath from his lungs. If the snow hadn't been so deep, the fall would have killed him. As it was…he winced as he felt what had to be one, maybe even two cracked ribs.

  He rose painfully to his feet, scanning the snow for something, anything. His portal, or the icy spires he'd glimpsed from the valley, but he saw neither. In a world of moonlit white beneath a still dark predawn sky, at least there was sound. His boots crunched through the snow, as the wind whistled off the rocks. And there was a dull roaring sound, just at the edge of hearing.

  The waterfall!

  Just like the floodwaters filling the river outside his castle, only vertical instead of horizontal.

  He followed the sound of water, wishing with all his might that it would lead him to Briska. If he didn't find her here, he didn't know what he'd do. Where else he could search. How did you find one woman in a whole world of people? A woman who couldn’t be found by magical means…

  Amani's head spun, as though he'd run too fast, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath. The aftereffects of wine had never made him feel like this before.

  And cold! Where had his furs gone? And his shirt? He must have lost them in the snow somewhere. At least his ribs hurt less in the cold. There was that, he told himself, as he trudged on, wrapping his arms around himself in a fruitless attempt to keep warm. He tried to conjure a cloak, a blanket, anything to keep him warm, but whatever had stolen his breath had stolen his magic, too.

  What in all that was holy could do such a thing? If it was Kun, he would kill her. No magic necessary. He'd wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until she stopped breathing. Nothing would get between him and Briska ever again.

  Amani blinked. Was that…glass? He dragged his numb feet up to the wall and pressed his hand to it. No, not glass. Ice, stealing his remaining body heat as he tried and failed to pull his palm from the wall. Then he managed to get his other hand stuck, and Amani knew he was in trouble.

  His whole body was numb. Death would come to claim him soon. At least he would meet his fate standing, for he could not lie down in the snow with both hands stuck to a wall.

  He waited for the memories to come, the last thing he would ever see, to distract him as he passed into the next world.

  As if on command, the best came first. Briska walked into view, as perfect as the first time he'd seen her. A marble statue come to life.

  Yet this wasn't a memory. It couldn't be. For there it was.

  Nestled in her hands was a lamp. His lamp.

  Forty

  Briska stared at the flickering flame, wondering if something so tiny could truly protect her from the enchantress. She didn't dare look in the mirror again, just in case the girl saw her.

  It took her a long moment to remember all of Kun's instructions about the lamp. Not only did she need to light it, but it had a limited range – in order to stop anyone from entering the palace, the lamp needed to be near the gates.

  Her heart froze in her chest. What if her forgetfulness had allowed someone to enter the palace already? Even now, the girl could be inside, creeping up on her.

  Briska cradled the lamp in her hands, holding it close to her chest as she took it to the entrance hall. She hunched her shoulders over it, hating the feeling that she was being watched.

  She set the lamp in the middle of the entrance hall, where it looked as out of place as a child's discarded shoe.

  While she'd been distracted, the sky had begun to lighten, building up to dawn, and now she could see the valley spread out before her, through the thin, transparent walls. A view she rarely looked at any more, for what was there to look at when everything was covered with snow? Even the waterfall was frozen.

  She fancied she heard someone say her name, but a quick glance at the gates told her there was no one out there.

  In here, then, she thought with a shiver. Briska edged closer to the lamp, until her boots almost touched it. She turned slowly in a circle, scanning the room with all her normal senses. Even if the enchantress was invisible, she still had to breathe.

  Twice she circled, and still she did not find the girl. But there were marks on the wall, marring her view of the waterfall. Briska stepped closer to investigate.

  Why, they looked like handprints, two of them, and a thin trail of blood frozen to the wall leading down. Quite macabre, really. If the girl thought to frighten her…

  Briska held her hand up to the print. No woman had made these. A large man, maybe, or a bear might have. But white bears did not climb so high, away from the sea and their source of sustenance.

  Whoever had left them wouldn't have survived long up here. But she would have to go outside and clean them off, or stare at them every time she looked to the waterfall.

  She opened the gates and stepped out, careful to keep to the path that now lay buried under a layer of ice and snow. One wrong step would bury her for good – or at least until Kun came looking for her.

  Snow had piled up beneath the handprints, perfectly placed for her to stand on so she could reach the marks. Ugh, the blood was worse than she'd thought, smeared down the wall in two wide, pink streaks. Briska set one boot on the drift, testing her footing before putting all her weight on it.

  The drift groaned, not unlike a bear.

  Briska backed away, darting a glance behind her to make sure the gate wasn't too far away. Once she rounded the corner of the palace, she'd run. Before the bear could rise.

  It groaned again, and flung out a paw. No, not a paw. A bloody hand, tinted blue. It was a man in the snowdrift, and if she didn't do something, he'd be a dead man.

  Taking a deep breath, Briska forced herself back the way she'd come. She thrust her gloved hands into the snow and grasped the man's shoulder. Brushing away the snow, she found his head, and used all her strength to roll him over, so she could see his face. If it was Vardan, she'd have no choice but to save him. But if it was that fool boy from the village, back again…

  With a mighty heave and a groan of her own, Briska managed to turn the man face-up. His eyes drifted open and the dreamiest smile lit his face. "My queen," he croaked. "Finally, I have found you."

  Briska's heart stopped. She couldn't even draw breath. It couldn't be. He couldn't be. The Sultan had executed him more than twenty years ago, and she'd looked for him in the mirror every day since. Yet he didn't appear to have aged a day since she last saw him.

  "Amani?"

  But his eyes had closed again, and his face was turning as blue as his fingers. She had to get him inside, and warm. She hadn't found him after all this time just to lose him again to a bit of snow.

  Briska hooked her arms under his armpits and began to haul him home.

  Forty-One

  Bris
ka managed to get Amani onto the bed once occupied by that young fool, Kai, but she had no idea how to help him. She needed to warm him, or send him into an enchanted sleep like Kai until she could heal him, but her magic refused to cooperate. No matter what spell she tried, she couldn't conjure so much as a spark.

  She would have to do things the mundane way, she guessed.

  Briska bundled up every blanket and item of clothing she had, and tucked them around Amani, hoping to preserve what body warmth he still had. Next, she headed outside to find the woodpile, buried under the snow. She couldn't remember the last time she'd built a fire, so she had to dig deep before she found the topmost logs.

  She carried them inside, then went back for more, until she had a healthy pyre piled up in the fire pit. She lit it from the lamp, but the tinder caught too slowly, smoking sulkily instead of blazing into eager life. Swearing, Briska opened the lamp and tipped the oil onto the wood. Then the fire caught, licking at kindling and logs alike as it greedily drank the oil.

  Briska dropped the lamp on the floor, for it was useless now.

  What else did ordinary people use to heal someone who'd come this close to freezing?

  A fire, warm clothes and blankets, and conserving their body heat. Or sharing it.

  Briska slipped out of her clothes, then slid into bed beside Amani. His skin was cold to the touch – even colder than hers! – but she rubbed against him, trying to share what little warmth she had. A good lust spell would come in really handy right now. Not that she needed it. Just touching him again was enough to kindle her desire. It had been more than twenty years since she'd last touched him, but she remembered every line, every ridge of muscle, like it was yesterday.

  She covered his face with kisses, then bit her lip to cast a lust spell. Knowing it would not work, but wishing with all her might to feel his hands on her body one last time.

  She kissed and caressed him, her own skin afire at the contact with the man she loved. Against her belly, she felt part of him stirring, though the rest of his body did not. Her fingers strayed lower, stroking him harder until she could bear it no longer.