Her promise was the only reason I followed Chandi down an unknown path into the breathing forest. At least, that was what I told myself as the chilly gray woods reached for me in the gloom, bare branches grasping the hem of my mantle.
“Ignore them.” She scowled at the trees, who were suddenly and suspiciously motionless. “We’re almost there.”
I wasn’t sure wheretherewas until we stopped in front of a trio of ancient bone-armed ash trees. They lifted infinite hands toward the brittle sky, icicles hanging like diamonds from their branches. Nature had carved a large burl into the center of the largest ash. Chandi ducked in, waving me beside her. The pale gray wood arched into darkness above us, and I placed a shivering palm against the core of the old tree. I swore it touched me back.
Chandi pulled me back out into the forest.
Except we weren’t where we’d been a moment ago. The sky glowed, the moon trapped behind layers of clouds. The forest here was spruce and fir, ruffled layers of deep green wearing gowns of pale silver. The snow-draped trees had all been decorated with small charms—ruby berries that looked succulent enough to taste, leaves hammered from shining gold, baubles of sparkling sapphire, tiny silver bells. A path lined with braziers wound silky between the trees, and in the distance the music of revelry wove between laughter and singing. Soft flakes of snow drifted down, hissing on the torches. Lanterns floated gently between the greenery. No—they were not lanterns at all, but tiny beings. Diamond-bright limbs, faces like starshine.
I ogled.
“Sheeries,” Chandi told me, following my gaze. “They love this kind of party, the little show-offs.”
One of the sheeries took offense at this and blew a haze of crystalline ice shards into Chandi’s face.
“Sensitive too.” She brushed snow out of her eyes. “Tell me what you want to wear.”
“Hmm?” My attention was lost down the path, beyond the line of trees, where I saw golden firelight. Smelled woodsmoke and pine sap and spiced wine. Heard achingly familiar music. But when I hummed the melody below my breath, it came out atonal.
When I turned back to Chandi, she was holding out a few of the blood-tipped starflowers. Reality thundered down. “No, I—I can’t.”
“Not dressed like that, no.”
“Not dressed likeanything.”
“If you like.” Chandi raised an eyebrow. “Although some Folk will certainly stare.”
“No, I mean—” I took a step back. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Why not?” Chandi raised her other eyebrow. “He’s already here, you know.”
My heart became a fist hammering against my ribs. I didn’t know whichheshe meant. I wasn’t sure whom Iwantedher to mean. “Hewho?”
“The human boy who keeps tromping around in the woods, following us to our revels. With the frilly hair and the beady eyes and the stupid, pretty mouth.” Chandi’s words reminded me, blindingly, of Corra. “I assume you know him?”
“He’s nearly twenty-three.” Amusement and affront braided through me. “And a prince. I don’t think he’s a boy anymore.”
“I don’t care how old he is.” Chandi scoffed. “They’re all boys until proven otherwise. Especially princes.”
That, I couldn’t argue with.
“So?” Chandi gestured at my worn fighting leathers. “What do you want to wear?”
I gave my head a helpless shake. “You decide.”
“That is the correct answer.” She tucked a few of the starflowers into my braids. “Close your eyes.”
I obeyed stiffly. For a long moment, there was nothing but the kiss of snow against my face. Then—a subtle shift, as if all my clothes had become softer and heavier. I didn’t wait for Chandi’s permission to open my eyes.
The gown she’d bewitched me into was a thick blue velvet, falling in layers of midnight luster. I put my hands to my waist—a narrow bodice rose to a wide neckline edged in pale fur. A breeze touched my exposed collarbones and the tops of my breasts, and I shivered. I rubbed my hands up my arms, which were encased in tight sleeves. Swaths of dark gossamer glittering with tiny crystals fell away from the elbows and trailed from my shoulders, dragging like the night sky behind me.
My eyes were wide. “It’sbeautiful. How—”
Chandi had undergone her own transformation—a gown like liquid gold encased her, pouring itself along every one of her magnificent curves. A golden mask covered half her face, making her amber eyes glow. I lifted my hands to my own face—a velvety mask reached from the tops of my cheekbones to my hairline, obscuring my features. I was glad for it. Chandi tossed her hair, which fell in glossy black curls down her back.
“Balance.” She twined her arm through my elbow and dragged me down the fire-fretted path toward the light and heat and music.
I thought she was warning me about the impractical shoes she’d shoved my feet into, which were exceedingly difficult to walk in. But she was answering my question.
