“A pity,” he said solemnly. “It will not be easy for you to rescue her, even if you do manage to get to the hunting lodge. Even if she is still there, the Winter Prince has all the resources of his land at his disposal. And it would reflect ill on Wolves if a Wolf were to be seen as rescuing her...”

  “I know the stories,” I said. “What the Winter Prince's kiss means to a mortal like Breena. It might drive her mad – or worse! How can I risk that happening...?”

  Alistair shook his head. “I don't think he means to do anything like that with her,” he said. “Listen, I've got a friend back in the Summer Palace, a girl called Rose.” He paused for moment, flushing with his memories of her. “She was also training to be an alchemist with me. She sends me letters sometimes – tells me what's going on. And she told me that the most scandalous things are going on at the Summer Court. Everyone knows that the Winter Princess, Shasta, has been captured by the Summer Court, and that she's being held hostage there for the time being. The Winter Court is frantic at her loss – they'll do anything to get her back. Although Rose hints that Shasta doesn't seem to mind being captive too terribly – they're treating her right, it seems, but obviously the Winter Court doesn't see it that way.”

  “And you think Shasta has something to do with Breena?” I thought hard. “Pan said something about a hostage, but I don't trust a word he said...”

  “The Winter Prince has been charged with the task of finding a valuable hostage to exchange for the Princess Shasta. The Queen sent him to kidnap a valuable member of the Summer Court family in order to get some leverage against Summer. From what I've heard of the Winter Prince, he is no seducer. The Summer King had that reputation, but the Winter Prince cares nothing for women. He cares for nothing except duty and honor – he would never risk his family's reputation, nor would he besmirch his own, by wasting time trying to kidnap a human woman to seduce her – even a woman as beautiful as you say this Breena is.” The Duke furrowed his brow. “Whatever the Winter Prince wants with your Breena, it has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with politics.”

  “Then you think Breena is somehow valuable to the Summer Court? That makes no sense! What would the Summer Court want with a random human girl....?” But I stopped short. Was Breena really that random? She'd had dreams of Feyland her whole life; she'd painted portraits of the land so powerful and beautiful that they'd created a portal between the two worlds. Whatever Breena was or wasn't, she certainly wasn't just any human.

  “Whatever she is,” said the Duke, “Breena is important enough to the Summer Court for Winter to kidnap her. And that makes her important to Winter, too. You're lucky you came to me. Autumn fairies are vassals to Summer, but we are less involved in their politics. Had you asked for any such favors in the Summer Court, you would have likely found yourself thrown into a dungeon. But I can help you. It is a risk – I will grant you that – but I do owe your family a favor. I cannot risk being seen flying you to the pass myself. But if Alistair takes you, few will take much notice. I am a well-known figure in these parts – Alistair is still young. If anyone asks, you and he are going to administer healing potions to afflicted villagers in the region – those whom war has made sick or injured. We can offer you transport, but nothing more. It is a great risk, you understand.”

  “I understand,” I said. “You've been so kind to me already, given me so much. I'm sure my grandfather would be grateful to you as well...”

  We both grew silent at the mention of that man.

  “A great warrior,” said the Duke, “and a great friend. A toast – to one of the finest Wolves Feyland ever knew.”

  “A toast!” Alistair and I repeated, and raised our goblets, touching them together with a clinking of the glass.

  After lunch had finished, I bid farewell to the Duke.

  “I hope you find what you're looking for,” said the Duke. “This girl sounds very special to you. We Fey do not love – it is frowned upon among our people. But the Wolves, I know, have no such taboos. They are like humans in that way, loving whom and when they please. And often, I hear, when they do not please, for love does not listen to liking. I am happy for you. I hope you find her safe.”

  “I hope so too,” I said, shaking his hand.

  And then Alistair and I were off, flying together across the Feyland plains. It would only have been a journey of three or four hours for a normal fairy, but Alistair was carrying quite a heavy load in my person, and so our journey back to the Winter lands took nearly six hours. I was nervous as I watched the twin suns of Feyland begin to set; my heart began to beat faster. Every second that passed, I knew, was a second that Breena was in the Winter Prince's clutches. At least, if she was a hostage, she would be safe, I thought – Kian wouldn't dare harm her if it meant risking Shasta's safety. But that didn't make me rest too much easier. Even if Kian knew he wasn't going to hurt Breena, that didn't mean he'd shared this with Breena – for all I knew Breena could be terrified right now, waiting to die with every moment that passed. The thought of Breena alone with Kian, lost in her terror and despair, made me sick.

  How dare he, I thought angrily. How dare this Prince Kian come in and ruin everything, steal the woman I loved and drag her into this place where she clearly did not belong? How dare he come into our world – into the life I guarded so carefully, I so carefully tried to separate from my other life in Feyland – and ruin everything?

  It was her sixteenth birthday, I ruminated bitterly. And I was going to tell her I loved her. I was finally going to admit to Breena how I felt about her. And now it was all ruined – my chance gone forever. Even if Breena and I managed to survive this and get back to the Land Beyond the Crystal River, things would never be the same again. I'd have to explain to Breena why I lied to her for all of these years, why I kept my Feyland life a secret. And whatever made Breena so special to Winter and Summer alike – I highly doubted that if she was as important as the Duke had made it seem, they would let us live in the mortal world in peace. If Winter didn't capture her, Summer would certainly do so.

  “Something on your mind?” Alistair asked me, gripping my chest tighter as we flew. “You're thinking about her, aren't you?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “It's obvious that you really care about her.”

  “She's my best friend.”

  “Is she more than that?” Alistair asked.

  I sighed. “Yes – I mean, she is to me.”

  “Does she know how you feel?”

  I shook my head. “I was going to tell her,” I said. “And then...all this happened.” I laughed bitterly. “Bad timing.”

  “I had someone once,” Alistair sighed. “We were just kids. I was sixteen – she was thirteen. My friend at the Summer Palace. Rose. I cared about her – a lot. But with everything going on in Feyland – now is not the time to risk falling in love. Especially not in Autumn Springs. This place is traditional when it comes to falling in love – we think of it as something humans do – or Wolves. Sorry,” he added as an afterthought.

  “No worries,” I said.

  “You know, I'm an alchemist, right?”

  “Right?”

  “And we study quite a bit – we have to learn all about legends and magic and the history of Feyland and all the different stories about the old days. Sometimes we read two or three books in a given day.”

  “Right?” I repeated, not sure where Alistair was going with all of this.

  “And I've read a lot about werewolves. I mean, I may never have met one until you, but I know a lot of old Fey legends. You used to be Fey, too, isn't that true?”

  “Nobody knows the origin of werewolves,” I said. But as I spoke, I remembered my dream, and flushed slightly.

  We had by now arrived at the mountain pass, and the landscape had turned once more from autumn leaves to crunchy snow. We began our descent slowly, Alistair's great wings flapping in the air.

  “You used to be Fey like us, with magical abilities and flight. I believed that. But something happened to make you give up your immortality. One day you'll want to get it back – you and the rest of your kind. To get back your full magic powers. To do that, you'll need to find the source of your immortality.”

  We landed in the snow, close to the Pink Mountain.

  “The source of my immortality? Where's that?”

  “The legends don't say.” Alistair shrugged. “I guess that's for you to figure out.” He took my hand and shook it. “Good luck, Logan. I hope you find your girl.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don't dare take you any farther, lest anyone sees me. But I wish you well.”

  “You too, friend.”

  We embraced like brothers and then Alistair flew off, wary of being seen with a Wolf in a war zone. I transformed once more into my lupine form and then headed on forward toward the path. Alistair had managed to give me better directions than the slurring, untrustworthy Pan had done, and this time I was sure where to find Kian's hunting lodge.

  But would Breena still be there when I arrived?

  Chapter 6

  I ran faster and faster as the sun began to set in the sky. Alistair had managed to take me most of the way, saving me at least two days off my travels, but I was still worried. By now Breena had spent four days alone with the Prince Kian, and although I was glad at least that he was probably not looking to harm her, I didn't rest too much easier. The Winter Kingdom was a cold and bitter place – it was known for its austere codes of conduct and its love of duty and honor above all else. I doubted such people would be particularly welcoming to a scared, sixteen-year-old mortal girl. As bad as it was to be a Wolf in Feyland, being a human was that much worse. At least we had some form of abilities – but humans had none, and the very few that made it across the Crystal River, to make things worse, tended to be concubines seduced by powerful fairy noblemen, and hence all humans in Feyland had a reputation for being, if not somebody's mistress, then at least somebody of questionable morals, good only for a quick roll in the hay. I shuddered. I would hate for anyone to think of Breena that way – although I imagined if someone like Pan tried to insult her, she'd let him know exactly what she thought of him.

  Breena was a strong girl, I told myself. No matter how new and strange and forbidding Feyland seemed to her, no matter how anyone – let alone those blasted Winter fairies – treated her, she would keep her wits about her. She wouldn't let herself give in to despair and terror. She'd stay strong.

  That is, if she hadn't tried to escape already. My heart sank at the prospect. With Kian, at least, as much as I hated to admit it, she was (it appeared) in no immediate physical danger. But who was to say that Breena knew that – or that she believed it? And if Breena managed to be successful in escaping from Prince Kian, that meant that she was alone in Feyland. And Feyland's dangers – a serious enough problem for an experienced Wolf like me – were even more of a problem for a girl like Breena, completely untutored in fairy ways.

  But was she untutored? My mind flashed back to what the Duke had said about the Summer Kingdom wanting Breena? She couldn't just be an ordinary human – there was no way that the Summer Court would be interested in humans. After all, everyone knew that the Summer Queen Redleaf hated humans, that she despised all mortals ever since her husband, the Summer King, had taken a mortal concubine for his lover for many years, since there was a child born of that union...

  …a girl.

  The thought hit me and my eyes opened wide. Could it be? Was Breena that girl? As far as anyone in Feyland knew, the Summer King's former lover had returned beyond the Crystal River – she was in hiding as the war raged here and Feyland, keeping the heir to the Summer throne safe amongst humans. Meanwhile, Redleaf the Queen was trying harder and harder to conceive a child of her own, knowing that any child she bore would take precedence over Breena for the title of Crown Prince or Princess of the Summer Court. But from what I'd heard of the King and Queen's relationship, it would be a long time before Redleaf even had the opportunity to conceive a child.

  Which meant that Breena, if Breena was the child of the concubine and King Flametail, otherwise known as Foxflame as a human, was the heir to the Summer throne and the Summer Crown. Could that be why Kian wanted to kidnap her – to trade her to Redleaf and Flametail in exchange for the release of his own sister Shasta?

  No, that was ridiculous, I told myself. This was Breena we were talking about – sweet, smart, eccentric, but utterly human Breena. My best friend. Surely if she was a fairy princess, I would know about it!

  And yet she didn't know about me. I sighed. I'd managed to keep the fact that I was a werewolf from her for almost sixteen years; she could just as easily have kept the fact that she was of Fey stock a secret from me. I was hurt – however irrationally – by Breena's lack of disclosure.

  But if Breena was trying to keep her fairy life a secret, she wouldn't have shown me those pictures of Feyland and asked me about them – she would have certainly tried to hide the portraits from me, lest I suspect her secret identity. Instead, she had painted hundreds of pictures, filling her room with canvases, sighing to me as she painted: “It feels so real, Logan. I recognize these places – but from where? Do you know them?”

  The only thing that made sense, therefore, was for Breena to not have known what she was. And if Breena really was the Summer Princess, and didn't even know it, then she was in more danger than I thought.

  The pieces of the puzzle started to come together in my head. It all made sense now. Breena being the Summer Princess would explain everything – her painting abilities, her memories of Feyland, Delano's attempted abduction, Kian, everything...

  I remembered Breena's mother, Raine Malloy. She had seemed so nice, so normal. Could she have once been the lover of one of the most powerful fey in Feyland?

  I was interrupted in my thoughts by a low, harsh growl, followed by a loud bark. I stopped, pricking back my ears. I let out a friendly howl, letting any Wolves in the area know that I came in peace, and that I wasn't interested in any trouble.

  Unfortunately, it appeared that the other wolves didn't feel quite the same way. Two dark-furred beasts came snapping out of the trees, leaping onto me. Their muzzles snapped; their teeth were bared. Four yellow eyes stared out at me menacingly from two familiar heads.

  Jacob, I thought, baring my teeth. Paris.

  My traitorous cousin, Jacob and his friend Paris had once been my boyhood friends. As a child I had played with them, grown up alongside them. We had spent many trips between Oregon and Feyland together, shuttling back and forth between the mortal world and the fairy one. When I was younger, I had imagined that the three of us would stay lifelong friends.

  But then came that terrible day, a day the memory of which even now filled me with rage. As I snapped back at Paris and Jacob, baring my teeth and clawing at their soft fur, I remembered the last time I had saw them. The day they decided to mutiny under the treacherous wolf Balthazar. The day they decided they could no longer live under the kind, but moderate, leadership of my grandfather. The day they decided they would rather throw in their lot with warmongering, battle-hungry fiends like Balthazar rather than do their duty to our clan.

  The day they killed Grandfather, the Wolf King.

  The pain was still fresh. Only weeks had passed since I had watched the life drain out of the man I loved more than anything in the world; I had woken up many nights since then in a cold sweat, hagridden by nightmares of that moment, of watching him die. And in all those nights, I had dreamed of what I would do when I finally met them again. When I finally had the opportunity for revenge.

  Jacob and Paris stepped back, taking human form. A sign they wanted to talk, to halt the hostilities.

  As much as my body ached for revenge – as much as I wanted to sink my teeth into their chests – I too stepped back and transformed. Grandfather wouldn't want me to behave dishonorably, I knew – and to avenge his death by treachery would be worse than not avenging it at all.

  “What do you want, Jacob?” I snarled. “Paris?”

  “Listen, we don't want more trouble. Just get out of here and we'll pretend we never saw you.” Jacob was avoiding my gaze. I could tell that he was ashamed of what he had done – he couldn't even look me in the eye.

  “What are you doing here? Are you guarding Prince Kian's lodge, by any chance?”

  “Just get out of here, Logan,” Paris muttered. “We don't want anything to do with you.”

  I almost laughed with shock. “Don't want anything to do with me?” I cried. “How can you not want anything to do with me – when you've done so much already? You've slaughtered my grandfather, a man who cared for you, who watched out for you...”

  “We did what had to be done,” said Jacob nervously, but it was clear he didn't believe what he was saying.

  “You could have prevented it,” I shouted. “You could have stood up to Balthazar...”

  “He's a very powerful man...there’s discord amongst the wolves.”

  “You could have done the right thing. But you didn't.”

  “Listen, Logan,” Paris took a threatening step forward. “There's two of us and one of you. And we don't want to have to kill you too. So why don't you run while you still can?”

  “Not a chance,” I said, my heart pounding. “You killed our grandfather. The debt has not yet been settled. Until I've defeated you both, I will not rest...”

  “Then prepare to die!” Paris snapped, transforming once more into his wolf form. Jacob too transformed, albeit after a moment of hesitation.

  And then they pounced on me.

  I snarled with pain as I felt Paris's teeth sink into my flesh. At first they seemed to have the advantage – two of them against one of me – and I wondered how I would ever manage to defeat them. Fur was flying everywhere; I kept sinking my teeth into lupine flesh, not even knowing where I was, not knowing which of them I was biting. Anger seeped into me – an anger that had boiled into a blinding hot rage. How dare these wolves look me in the face after killing Grandfather; how dare they live without shame?