She moved quickly, peeling back layer after layer until the baby was almost naked. Linden wailed piteously as the wind swirled around her, and it was all Knife could do not to rush out from her hiding place at once-but she forced herself to remain still, and wait.
The Queen reached out, laying one white hand upon Linden’s brow and the other upon her belly. She remained there unmoving, head bent, while the child writhed and sobbed upon the cold ground. Knife’s indignation flamed up again, and she was just about to step forward when she saw the Queen’s hands begin to glow, magic fanning outward from her fingers and rippling like moonlit water. It swirled about the baby, enfolding her in a chrysalis of light, and as Linden’s cries melted into happy gurgles, Knife sat back on her heels. A spell of blessing, perhaps, or protection. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be doing the child any harm All at once Amaryllis clenched her hands. The magical cocoon pulsed, and Linden began to scream.
Knife could bear it no longer. She burst out of her hiding place and plunged across the lawn, knocking the Queen aside and snatching Linden up in her arms. For an instant she felt a wrenching pain deep in her belly, but she did not even have time to gasp before it stopped. The bubble of light burst, and Linden’s shrieks turned to sobs as Knife cradled her close and wrapped the cloak around her.
“Stop it!” she shouted at Amaryllis, too angry and frightened for courtesy. “You’re hurting her!”
“I must finish the spell!” The Queen struggled to her feet, hands outstretched. “Quickly, give her back to me, before-”
Knife held the baby closer and took a step back. “Leave her alone!”
“Foolish girl,” said Amaryllis between her teeth, “you have no idea-” Then she stopped, staring at something over Knife’s shoulder.
Knife turned to see a fox slip out from the shadows and pad across the lawn toward them, tongue lolling with hunger. Her mouth went dry.
“Why didn’t you scent it?” demanded the Queen.
“Because we were upwind,” said Knife shortly, never taking her eyes off the fox. “How do you think it scented us?”
“Can we outrun it?”
“Are you joking?”
Amaryllis whipped off her cloak and flung it on the ground. Wings spread, she leaped into the air-and a gust of wind caught her, tossed her like a dry leaf, and flung her down again.
“The air currents are wild out here,” Knife shouted to her. “It’s no use-even if we could stay aloft, we’d never get anywhere against this wind!”
The fox stepped closer, steam threading from its mouth. Knife backed away, stripping off her own cloak as she went and bundling Linden up in it. “Take her!” she said, thrusting her at Amaryllis, who had struggled to her feet. “Get back to the Oak!”
The Queen reached out and took the child, but it was only to lay her down upon the frosty ground again. “Not without you,” she said.
“Take her!” roared Knife. She waved her arms, willing the fox to focus its attention on her, to ignore Amaryllis and the child. “Get away while you have the chance!”
“And what will you do?” retorted the Queen. “Die?”
Knife drew her dagger. The fox lunged; she ducked away from its snapping jaws. “Not if I can help it,” she panted. “But I don’t have time to argue, Amaryllis-just go!”
“I have seen too many of my people die,” said the Queen grimly. “Knife, stand aside.”
Knife scarcely heard her, intent on the circling fox. The icy wind bit through her tunic, needling into her skin; already her muscles felt stiff, and she knew she could not dodge the vixen long. But if she could distract it for another few seconds…
“I said, stand aside!” thundered Amaryllis, and an invisible hand plucked Knife off her feet, tossing her back across the lawn. Then the Queen’s wings burst into shimmering light as she raised both hands, palms outward, and directed a beam of blinding radiance at the fox.
It yelped and leaped backward, head tossing and paws scrabbling at the snow. “Begone!” commanded the Queen in a ringing voice, and the fox turned tail and dashed away.
Still glowing, Amaryllis stood erect until the fox squirmed through the hedge and vanished in the darkness beyond. Then she turned toward Knife, her face drained of color, and collapsed.
Knife stumbled across the lawn and dropped to her knees. She rubbed Linden’s face until the baby whined in protest; then she tucked her into the crook of one arm and reached for Amaryllis with the other. “Your Majesty,” she pleaded, “wake up!” But the Queen did not stir.
Gritting her teeth, Knife hefted Amaryllis by the waist and began dragging her toward the hedge. But her legs were made of stone, and even breathing was an effort. A curious warmth enfolded her, tempting her to lie down; the ground looked so soft, so welcoming…
Panting silver clouds into the air, Knife lurched across the lawn, muscles screaming as she hauled her double burden. Her breeches were stiff with ice, and she could no longer feel her hands. She plunged forward another step, and another, until her foot kicked something warm and she fell, nearly crushing Linden beneath her. Struggling to her feet again, she turned to see Amaryllis lying on the ground; she had dropped the Queen without realizing it. Wearily she bent, slung Amaryllis’s arm about her shoulders, and hauled her a few more steps into the tangled shadow of the hedge.
As she stooped into the secret tunnel, Knife began to shout for help. Shuffling along, feeling Linden and Amaryllis grow heavier with every step, she called out until her throat was hoarse, but no one answered. She had almost given up hope when she saw light glimmer at the other end of the tunnel, and a stocky figure hurried toward her with lantern in hand.
“Thorn,” rasped Knife. “Take Linden, quickly. And the Queen-” Then her knees buckled, the floor rushed up to meet her, and she knew no more.
Fourteen
“Knife, oh, Knife, wake up, please-”
Her eyes cracked open to see a white blob that gradually resolved itself into Wink’s face. “Oh, merciful Gardener,” the other faery breathed, “drink this,” and she tipped something into Knife’s mouth.
Knife spluttered but forced herself to swallow. “What does Valerian put in that stuff?” she gasped as the medicine seared its way down her throat. “Pine needles and fish oil?”
“Probably,” said Wink, wavering between laughter and tears. “Oh, Knife, I’m so glad you’re all right. For a little while, I thought-”
“Linden,” said Knife, struggling to sit up. “Where is she? And the Queen?”
“Sleeping. Both of them. Valerian says they’ll be fine-Knife, do lie down, you’re making me nervous.”
Reluctantly Knife lay back as Wink plumped her pillow and pulled the blankets up about her shoulders. “You do know you aren’t my Mother anymore?” she said.
She had meant it as a joke, but Wink’s face fell. “No one ever asked me if I was ready to stop being your Mother,” she said. “I just woke up, and they’d taken you away from me, and there was nothing I could do about it. So…no.” She lifted her head, eyes brimming. “No, I don’t know that. I don’t think I ever will.”
Knife felt as though a tree branch had clubbed her in the stomach. “I didn’t know,” she said lamely.
“Oh, I don’t blame you,” sniffled Wink. “You were only a child. You probably thought they were punishing you.”
This was true, but Knife had also assumed that Wink had been glad to see her go. She had never imagined that Wink had actually missed her-why would she, when Knife had never given her anything but trouble?
“Anyway,” Wink went on, taking out a handkerchief and blowing her nose, “none of that matters now. What I want to know is what you and Linden and the Queen were doing out there in the first place.”
“I’m not sure,” said Knife slowly. “The Queen took Linden into the moonlight and started casting some kind of spell. I managed to stop her, but-”
Wink’s mouth fell open. “You stopped the Queen?”
