Chapter Nine

Wisdom of the West

There was a gift in my room, but Hans had to escort me back there first. I got lost in the maze of glass houses and couldn't find it. So Hans led me back to what I recognized as my glass house. I could tell it was mine because there was an almond sapling growing near the front door in a pale blue porcelain flower pot painted with little, white sheep.

I glanced at Hans, who made the whuffing sound that meant he was laughing at me. Ignoring him, I opened the door and went inside.

Something leaning against the bed caught my eye. Walking over to it, I picked it up gingerly and looked it over. It was a walking stick. And what was really odd - and what made it odder still was the fact that I thought it was odd to begin with - the staff was not made of glass, but almond wood stained nearly black. There were images etched into it, the grooves of the pictures stained bright silver so that they shone. The etchings seemed almost... patchwork, like a quilt burned into wood. Each little square held a different picture: a tower, a silver plum, a broom, three tear drops, a key... more than a hundred images, all told.

I didn't know what to make of it, but it certainly was beautiful.

At the top was a four-pointed star, with strange markings at each point. When I took it outside to show Wulf, he told me what it was.

"That's a compass rose," he told me. "It shows the four directions. These are letters," the boy added, pointing at each. "That's N, for north. S, for south. W for west and E for east."

Surprised, I studied the marks, memorizing them. N. North. S. South. W. West. E. East. I looked up at the black haired boy beside me, my heart in my mouth. I knew four letters. I didn't know how many letters there actually were, but I knew four of them. Me, a shepherd's daughter - I could read four letters. It probably didn't seem like much to Wulf, who could read already, but it meant the world to me.

"Well, I'm packed," he added after the silence had stretched between us forever. He shifted uncomfortably. "Are you ready?"

"I never unpacked anything. And these aren't the clothes I fell asleep in, so I'm guessing they're clean." I indicated the red shirt and brown trousers. The only thing familiar about the outfit I wore was the brown vest with the roses, the thin iron chain around my neck, and my boots, which now fit since I no longer wore the splint on my ankle. Patting the big rucksack next to me, I added, "The Queen put Scarlet's bundles in this pack, so it'll be easier to carry."

Scarlet's red cloak was folded up neatly on top of our little cloth bundles in the rucksack.

"Great," Wulf said. "Well, we should probably sleep. If the West Wind is anything like the East Wind, we won't be able to sleep while riding her tonight."

"Yeah, probably not."

This was how I found myself, after a week of sleep, dozing on a bed made of glass, waiting for my time to ride on the back of the West Wind.

* * *

The Glass Queen escorted Hans and me, with Wulf loping beside us, back to the Garden of the Golden Lilies. Still rubbing the sleep from our eyes, with the black wolf yawning hugely, we stumbled along the moon-white path of glass until we reached a lake. It wasn't a very big lake. In fact it was only just big enough to be a lake at all, instead of a pond. The water was clear as glass, with nary a ripple, and floating on the surface were green crystal lily pads with golden flowers blooming in their centers. Each tiny golden petal gave off faint amber light, barely brighter than a glowworm in the night darkness.

In the tall, glittering grass on the far side of the lake, four white swans slept with their heads under their wings. Around their necks were bronze chains.

Beyond them, sleeping on a bench made of copper glass, was the West Wind.

Her copper hair spilled around her bare shoulders, which were the color of red earth at dawn. From her neck to her ankles, she was dressed all in purple - purple tunic, red-violet vest, and purple trousers with flared at the hip but cinched tight at the ankle. I had never seen such clothes. And on her feet - such little feet! - were a pair of copper shoes with pointed toes.

The Glass Queen nudged me, and I hastily pulled out the little bag of coffee as somewhere in the distance, wind chimes began to dance and the Winter Star appeared in the night sky.

We watched with nary a sound between us as the West Wind sat up slowly without opening her eyes, stretching her thin arms high over her head. I could hear her draw in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Finally, she opened her eyes and I met her liquid gold gaze.

Hastily, I dropped my eyes.

"And who are these, Queen Ilean de Glass, that you have brought to me before I have even had a chance to dance this night?"

With my lowered gaze, I saw the Queen's dark blue skirts studded with glass beads sweep over the grass as she took a few steps forward. Then, with a laugh in her voice, the Glass Queen replied, "My apologies, West, but I knew that given a choice between dancing or coffee, you would choose the coffee, a treat I can rarely afford to offer you."

At this, I heard the West Wind's swift intake of breath. The mention of coffee had attracted her interest. Without looking up, I held out the bag to her.

It wasn't that I was afraid of her golden eyes, the same color as Queen Ilean's hair and Gaspard's fur. But you see, if felt like they seemed to burn me. Not in a painful way, but still, it felt strange to meet her gaze. It was as if she could see into my heart, a feat I could not even manage on my own. I couldn't explain why this bothered me, but it did.

Two tiny, golden slippers appeared in my line of sight. Two slippers which curled up at the tips, ending in little, bronze bells. A slender, dark brown hand reached up and touched my face. I felt my chin being forced up.

Trying not to flinch, I looked into the West Wind's eyes.

For several long minutes, there was silence. My chest hurt. Was I breathing? I wasn't sure. Part of me didn't want to draw in the same air as this being. She was nothing like East, who was funny and sweet-natured. This woman, this Faery creature, was staring at me with such intensity I could feel the blood rushing into my cheeks. But try as I might, nothing I did could get my eyes to look away from hers for even a single moment. I was well and truly mesmerized.

"This one will go far," the Wind said softly. Her voice was like the tinkling of bells and the swishing of soft fabrics. "She has a destiny, though nothing as great as the maiden yet to come. She is the last of the Five before that maiden appears, a proud calling. Her name is Marzipan, and it suits her. Beauty, subtlety, strength, sweetness, wonder. Girl, you are stronger than you think and wiser than you know. If it is in your power to break the curses on the men in your heart, you will find a way. There will be blood, and there will be ice, but this is not necessarily bad and could in fact be good, so do not fear it.

"I can see that you need to travel, and wind-back is the fastest way. In exchange for the beans you offer, I will carry you to my sister, for she is the only one who can go so far as the Vryst Mountain Range. It does not abide in my lands."

"Thank you," I managed to choke out, though the words seemed to scorch my throat. Her eyes held me fast.

Then, mercifully, she looked away, releasing me.

"You, boy. Come here."

Hans came forward, and the West Wind trapped his gaze this time. Sympathy welled up for my friend. Looking at her was very uncomfortable.

My brain tried to make sense of the things she'd said, but they were jumbled up and confused by my nervousness and her nearness. One thing, however, struck me like a closed fist - the thing about my name. Beauty, subtlety, strength, sweetness, and wonder. Scarlet had said those exact words to me. What did that mean?

"Power runs in your blood, but it burns in your sister's veins," the Faery creature said to Hans. "Danger has come upon you more than once already. There are three wooden houses in the Mandias Forest, and two of them you know. Shy of the green door but bitten by the red, a witch's meal you shall not be but a wolf... perhaps forever. If your sister's magic and the child at your side cannot break this curse, no power in the world can do so. But nothing will stop the girl you hold in your heart - not chains of love or chains of magic. Be grateful."

"Four spells war within you, wolf," the Wind said then, looking at the black beast at my side. He cocked his head, eyes bright, and I knew he understood her. "The fourth is hidden even from you. But I sense the love in your heart for the caster, even though you don't remember her, and this magic will not harm you. It seeks to protect you in any way it can. I don't know who laid it, but they knew what they were about. This spell... it seems familiar to me, the scent of the magic... chocolate and sugar and cream... metal and oil... but my memory is not what it used to be. I'm old, and I have forgotten more things than the oldest mortal ever knew.

"Now," and she took the bag of coffee finally. "We go."

I had enough time to take hold of the leather cord around Wulf's neck with one hand before the West Wind grabbed Hans and I and we were snatched up by a whirlwind, blackness closing around us like a fist until I was lost to the world.