Page 49 of To Ride the Wind

“It makes all the difference!” the queen growled. “Are you trying to ruin everything?”

For a moment the two stared at each other, both of their chests heaving and their eyes blazing. Distantly Gwen felt curious. Why had her mother kept the condition of the court a secret from Gwen and Gwen’s inclusion in the enchantment a secret from everyone else? The two guards who had found her in the garden must have been genuinely worried for her, thinking she was an ordinary girl about to be confronted with something horrifying.

But sharper than the curiosity was the anger, laced with the inevitable fear that underlined every interaction with her mother. Despite her shaking knees, Gwen wasn’t going to back down. Not this time.

The queen’s brows drew closer, her eyes narrowing. “So you have discovered the truth at last, pathetic girl. I suppose you had to know eventually. But I will not allow you to ruin plans that have been years in the making.”

She grabbed Gwen’s wrist, holding it tightly enough that Gwen cried out in pain. The queen didn’t loosen her grip.

Dragging Gwen behind her, she strode out into the corridor. Gwen struggled to free her arm, but despite her efforts, she was pulled along in her mother’s wake.

When they began climbing the winding stairs of the west tower, Gwen considered throwing herself down them, pulling her mother with her. Surely the queen would have to release her hold then.

But Gwen was as likely to be injured in the attempt as her mother. She would have little chance to escape with two broken legs.

She kept struggling, though. It might be futile, but now that she had unstoppered the dam, she couldn’t suppress the years of bottled anger and resentment that were flowing out.

It made no difference. Her mother maintained an iron grip, proving herself stronger than she appeared. Only when she had opened a door at the top of the tower did she finally let go, and only then so she could throw Gwen into the room beyond.

Gwen flew forward, losing her balance and landing hard enough on the stone floor to bruise. She scrambled to her feet, wincing, but her mother stood in the middle of the doorway, barring the exit.

Tears sprang to Gwen’s eyes. “Why, Mother? Can you really not tell me why?”

“What a fool I was to think you had finally matured into the tool you need to become.” The queen regarded her with disgust. “How the court and kingdom can put their hope in you, I’ll never understand.”

“H…hope? What do you mean?” The queen’s unexpected words drove back Gwen’s impending tears, a strange echo of those spoken by the girl from the city.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” the queen snapped. “If it hadn’t been for that fool boy, I would never have felt the need to—”

“Fool boy?” Gwen surged forward, grasping at her mother’s shoulder. “You mean Easton? What did you do to him?”

“Far less than he deserved!” The queen thrust Gwen backward again, sending her to the floor in a second heavy fall.

But Gwen barely felt the pain. She stared up at her mother. “So he’s alive then?”

“As I said, better than he deserved! But I couldn’t risk killing the son of a courtier. Not after everything went wrong.”

Her eyes snapped and burned, pouring the load of her own anger and frustration onto Gwen. “But how was I supposed to know the object worked in such a way? It was supposed to bind my people to me—ensure their loyalty. How could it turn us into bears and bind us to the mountains instead?”

Gwen slowly stood, giving a shaky laugh. “So it was a mistake, then? The high and mighty Queen Celandine made a mistake, and now you must spend your nights as a bear?” She laughed again, a stronger, colder sound. But her mother was finally talking, giving her answers, and she had to goad her into continuing.

“Silence!” her mother cried. “It may have been a miscalculation at the time, but I can turn any situation to my advantage. Haven’t I used it to keep the population quiet? I even found us a way through the mountains—I bought us a future!”

“But it was still a mistake,” Gwen said softly. “And every night you’re reminded of it. But why did you have to involve me?”

The queen gave her a satisfied look. “That was a master stroke, and I came up with it on the spot. Obviously I couldn’t confess I’d made a mistake. I needed to assure my people the enchantment wasn’t permanent, but since I had no idea how to reverse it, I needed to give myself time. And thankfully you were safely out of sight.”

Gwen sucked in a breath at this description of her torturous imprisonment.

The queen smiled in response. “A humorous fantasy, is it not? But hope is as powerful a tool as fear. A careful wielder of both can hold more power than you can imagine.”

“You’ve been using me to control the court all this time?” Gwen stared at her mother. It was far beyond what she had imagined.

“I’m only surprised they swallowed the notion of a virtuous princess so easily,” the queen said with a mocking smile. “A girl so pure, the enchantment couldn’t touch her. One who must be protected at all costs because only she could save her people.” She chuckled. “But it does sound like something the godmothers would contrive, does it not?”

“But you haven’t found out how to reverse it,” Gwen said slowly. “It’s been ten years, and we’re all still trapped. How can the people still look to me with hope?”

The queen’s smile turned hard. “Who said I didn’t know how to reverse it? A prince is the answer, of course.”

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