I had already committed the spell to memory, so I wasted no time in beginning the incantation. I worked my way through the words, the familiar Fae syllables falling easily from my tongue.As I neared the end, the snow started to glow—a small circle at first around me, then spreading like frozen lava as I sent tendrils of magic across the island.
It didn’t take long, however, before I could feel the power of my spell beginning to wane. I was spreading it too thin: the island was simply too big for me to enchant alone. I couldn’t touch every corner of the Isle without additional help. I wasn’t powerful enough, at least not yet, to enchant an entireislandworth of snow, even with the help of my ancestors’ magic.
When I looked up, the glow of the snow faded as I stopped the incantation. Ranger Z was nowhere to be seen. I glanced curiously at Silas.
“Patrol,” he said, then gestured at the snow. “It looked like it was working. Is something wrong?”
“I can’t reach the whole island. I know, by nature of being Fae Queen, that I am intrinsically connected to these lands. But I’m not connected to the snow blanketing it in the same way, so it’s different. I can’t reach so much surface area while also releasingso muchpower. It’s spreading me too thin. The spell isn’t strong enough to do what it needs to do.”
“What about tapping into the power of your ancestors?”
“I’m already doing that. But it’s not about how much power is flowing through me, really; it’s my ability to handle it, control it, and manage it over such a large area of land. I’m the blocker here, not my ancestors, and they can’t help me with that piece.”
“Could you heal The Isle in pieces?” Silas’s voice was urgent but gentle. “Heal a quarter at a time, then move to a different location? Spread it out a bit?”
“Maybe, but it might take too long. I don’t know that we have time to be jumping around, especially if the other areas are already under heavier attack.”
As I looked down at the pages of my textbook again, silently begging the words to give me a reasonable answer, I felta sudden lurch from deep within my chest. My body jolted forward, like I’d been in a rough fender bender I hadn’t seen coming.
I couldn’t catch my breath, feeling like I was under some sort of attack. But when I looked up, there was no attack whatsoever. The air around me was deadly quiet, perfectly still. All looked peaceful, except the feeling inside me was like war.
“What is it?” Silas was at my side in a second. “What happened?”
“An attack.” I could feel the truth of it in my chest; my entire heart felt constricted and taut. “Somewhere else. Something big.”
As I closed my eyes and took stock of my body, the sensation in my core, I realized what had happened. That little jar of marbles in my chest that symbolized the pieces of every person in my court, had been rattled. As if someone had taken the jar and given it a good shake, and when all had settled, some of the beautifully colored marbles had disappeared. Flickered out, vanished entirely, not simply grayed over like those who had evacuated and were outside the bounds of my court. We had lost people.
A wave of anger and sorrow washed through me. I gasped, “People are dying. I can feel it.”
Silas didn’t look surprised, though his hand stroked an encouraging trail down my back. It wasn’t surprising on a technical level that there were casualties; we were up against a mighty foe who would take no prisoners. It had only been a matter of time.
“The islanders need more from me,” I said. “I wish there was a way for me to give them some of my power, so they can put it to use.”
“It’s your power,” Silas said. “Maybe it’s yours to give.”
“That’s it,” I breathed. “Maybe Icanshare it.”
“What do you mean?” Silas asked. “It’s taken you weeks to get even a basic grasp of your powers, and you are the Fae Queen. How could a civilian without any trace of Fae blood handle even an ounce of your power?”
“Maybe it’s not about wielding the power, but simply carrying it with them. Everyone on this island is connected. Everyone still on The Isle has chosen loyalty to the court, or they wouldn’t be here. My limiting resource right now is that I can’t reach the whole island. But if I channel my power through the islanders, sharing my strength with them, maybe in return I’ll have better reach—a give and take.”
Silas licked his lips, tilted his head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
But I was already convinced this was the way forward. I could see it now, clearly, how to implement the next phase of my plan. Maybe this was what I’d needed to figure out all along, what my mother had been referencing when she explained I would know how to place the wards in due time, and then and only then, it would feel as natural as breathing.
I viewed it like planting a garden. Right now, all the seeds were concentrated within me. But if I gave seeds of magic to every person on the island, and each individual scattered them on their own terms, then our wildflower meadow would grow and bloom to the farthest corners of The Isle. Maybe my job as queen wasn’t as much to protect the islanders as I’d thought; maybe it was to trust them, and to return the loyalty they’d entrusted to me.
This time, when I closed my eyes, I focused on the jar of colorful marbles in my chest. Instead of trying to shield them, I empowered them. I sent out the same tendrils of magic I’d used to spin air and water and earth, but this time, I threaded them through each person who had pledged loyalty to me.
I could feel it starting to work immediately. The flow of power, a give and take like a river that ran both ways. I felt buoyant and light and powerful, and I hoped the islanders were experiencing the same thing.
Of course, the others wouldn’t suddenly be able to isolate water particles or feel the hum of the ley lines. That wasn’t the kind of magic I was gifting them. I was gifting them the sense of belonging and trust, bits of power that only I possessed that wouldn’t change them, but would enhance each person’s uniqueness in their own way.
Each islander would become a truly integral part of the fabric holding this place together. A rainbow quilt comprised of vibrant colors and unique skills and individual strengths and full stories, all stitched together by Fae Queen magic. A tapestry that might fray around the edges in the face of adversity, but would not be destroyed.
“You’ve done it,” Silas said when I opened my eyes. “I can feel it.”
“Yes,” I said simply.
