Wings of Starlight

by Allison Saft

For those who see the world as it could be: brighter and full of magic

It is said that if you soar past the second star on the right and go straight on till morning, you will reach it, too: the Queendom of Pixie Hollow.

A simple problem with a simple solution.

That familiar ache of loneliness unfurled through her like a collapsing star.

“To be a good queen—” “Is to be as cold and remote as the star from which you were born,” Clarion finished for her.

It was part of governing-talent magic, she’d learned: an ability to command a crowd’s attention.

Gathering her nerve, she took flight toward Spring Valley—to the border where Spring met Winter.

This was it: the monster.

It hardly mattered to her, because he knew who she was. He knew who she was, and he hadn’t flinched away from her or demurred or panicked.

“I do. Just tell me when—and where.” “Would here and now work?”

“Dangerous or not, evenings are the only time that’s truly mine.”

Your predecessor has not been forthcoming.

“I promise I have no ulterior motives, secrets, or terrible news.” Petra did not look convinced.

What must it be like, she wondered, to be so certain of your path? What must it be like to share it?

I will be waiting here, at sunset, every night for a week.

“Pixie Hollow is only as strong as its queen.” What good is a queen if she’s forbidden to do a single thing? Better than a dead one.

“You disagree with her?” “Of course I do. I saw the monster myself.”

“What do you suggest, then?” Without hesitation, he replied, “You’ll need to come to Winter with me.”

“What do you mean?” “No one keeps track of you?” she prompted. Heat spread across her cheeks as she realized what exactly she’d said. “I mean…no one minds that you come to haunt the border of Spring like a ghost?”

No one is above me in station but you.” No one but you.

“I need you to help me cross into the Winter Woods.” “Gah!”

“Then you’ve underestimated me.” “A mistake I won’t make again.”

“You haven’t run into any trouble? You mentioned obligations.” “Right.” She sighed glumly. “Those.”

She and Milori could never be anything resembling friends. But here in the twilight, the space between them as good as a solid wall, nothing felt wholly real.

That troublesome thought resurfaced, unbidden: Beautiful. And dangerous, she reminded herself.

“Even you?” “Even me,” he replied, with a somberness that surprised Clarion. She heard clearly what he’d left unspoken: once upon a time.

“What do you want to know?” Everything.

“And you?” Surprise softened his features. “I don’t know if there’s a name for what I am.” “Surely there is.”

The shape of his pain matched her own. Milori was just as lonely as she was.

I’ve always wanted things I shouldn’t. Never had that felt truer.

“What?” she demanded. “Nothing at all.” His eyes glittered, and her treasonous heart fluttered at the sight of his smile. “Do you need help?” “No, sir.” She tried her best not to sound offended. “I do not need your help.” “Perhaps a pull is the better word?”

Stubbornly chivalrous, she noted.

“Clarion!” For a moment, she lay there, staring dazedly up at the sky. “I’m alive.” “That’s good.” Milori’s face soon eclipsed her view. “And you’re all right?” “I think so.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” “Ah,” he said. “There you are.”

“How can you say that? You’ve only just met me.” As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he said, “Because you were made for this. I feel it, when I look at you. Perhaps it’s your magic. Perhaps it’s you. Whatever it is, you have an aura about you. You command respect, yes, but more than that, you inspire hope. It is the first time I have felt it in a very long time.”

I think you’re capable of far more than you know. Maybe dream-talent magic lives on in you.

“I would never joke about owls,” he said solemnly. “Then you’re mad.”

Her first thought was not control but protect

“She’s incredible,” Clarion said softly. Milori brightened. Even Noctua seemed to preen.

“Milori is a very talented ice-skater, you know. I’m sure he’d teach you.” Clarion beamed. “I would love that.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ll wait for you.”

There was something terribly vulnerable on his face. Loneliness.

“The Warden of the Winter Woods? You met the Warden of the Winter Woods?”

“You’re sneaking out to see a boy

“I won’t do it. I can’t watch you come home like this again. I’m a tinker, not a healer. I can patch up your coat, but not you

“Like summer, this brief moment before you ascend the throne is fleeting. Think of it, then, as a time to be awake to what you want—and who you want to become.”

Think of it as a time to be awake to what you want—and who you want to become.

He was gazing at her like she was something to marvel at. His expression went soft and unguarded when he noticed her staring back at him, as though he hadn’t expected to be caught but did not mind it overmuch.

Clarion leaned fully into Winter and kissed him.

“Shall I let the Nightmares destroy their homes? Pick them off one by one? This is not pragmatism, Elvina. This is monstrous. I will not do it.” Elvina stared at her with open shock.