Midwinter

And Aba looked at those who remained to suffer under the Stone Queen, and he said, "These are my people, and I am pleased by them. For them I will increase their Gifts, and they shall use those Gifts to glorify me, even though they are prisoners in their own land. And one day they will rise up as a people and the Stone Queen shall be cast out, and that will be my reward to them."

Everything that Aba had promised came to pass. Those who remained, they forgot the name of Aba, though their Gifts were made strong by him, and those who went away were given many hardships, and nothing they built would stand.

And then it was that those two peoples, the Fae of the Seelie Queen Titania and the Fae who called themselves Unseelie, went to war, and there could never be an agreement between them. Mighty magicks were wrought and cast from each land until the air between them split and shifting places sprung from the rift, and this also was the will of Aba. And those lands that contained the shifting places became known as the Contested Lands, for neither side would release claim to them…

Vircest-Ana Aba-e, Book II ("Rauad Faehar"), Canto 1

the city of mab

Along a ridge overlooking a purple mountain range, the floating city of Mab prepared to cut stakes and sail. Far to the south, the Seelie lands were in the grip of Midwinter, but here in the highlands the eternal desert heat baked the earth to a cracked brown, the harsh wind kicking up swirls of dust and bending the scattered trees to brush the ground. Throughout the city, the shouts of water bearers and hunters returned from their labors filled the market tents and the stalls along the outer rim.

From the rigging high above the poised tents of the royal spire, the city's crew called out the ancient magic language of motion amid the steady flapping of the sheets. The sails, multicolored and embroidered with the bright crests of the Unseelie families, unfurled from their masts and climbed the spars, crewmen heaving against the lines of thick brown rope. The wind caught the sails and filled them; they strained against the weight of the city beneath with an anxious groan. Finally, the crewmaster hoisted the pennant of Queen Mab, and from the rigging they called down below to cut the stakes. With a mighty roar, a thousand knives fell to the sound of the chorus "Forever Mab!" and the Queen's city left her earthly moorings and embraced the dusty currents, beginning her slow journey south. On the ground, the nomadic creatures of the desert scattered, leaving the remains of their campfires to be swallowed by the dust.

Outside the city, the sailing tent of Hy Pezho jumped into motion as its moorings grew taut against the city's thrust and began to pull the tent forward. Inside, Hy Pezho barely noticed.

Her name was Moonwind, or so she claimed. Hy Pezho didn't know and didn't care. He removed her clothing with calculated motions, running his fingers over her exquisite skin. She lay back among his pillows, moaning softly, whispering in his ear. His tongue found hers and he lowered himself gently on top of her, tracing the contours of her body with a practiced touch. She helped him out of his tunic and into her, and he groaned with pleasure. In the tent, the perfume of spice incense wafted up from a censer on the low teak table by his pallet. The gauzy drapes wove in and out, drawn by the wind.

The sounds of urgent lovemaking were soon replaced with heavy sighs and Hy Pezho rolled off of Moonwind with a faraway look in his eye.

"What are you thinking?" said Moonwind.

"What am I what?" Hy Pezho was confused. "Oh. What do you care?"

"I was just making conversation." She reached for her robe and shrugged into it, taking an apple from the bowl above the bed. She bit into the apple and the juice ran down her chin.

"I didn't bring you here to make conversation." Hy Pezho turned his back on her and reached for his own clothing.

"It's always fun when it's fun, and then it's always over when it's over, eh?" she laughed. She rolled over onto her stomach. "Here. Have an apple and we'll try again. What do you say?"

"No," said Hy Pezho, distracted. "I've lost the feeling for it."

"You're strange," she said. "I sort of like you."

"Well, don't get too attached." Hy Pezho stood and turned his head toward the door. There was a quiet buzzing sound coming from beyond it. He opened the tent flap, allowing in the afternoon sunlight and, with it, a tiny flying thing that darted into the room and lighted on the fruit bowl. The thing took flight again and buzzed around Moonwind's head, then spotted Hy Pezho and circled him.

"Hy Pezho! Hy Pezho!" the creature whispered.

"I am he," said Hy Pezho. He held out his palm and the message sprite glided into it, tucking its wings behind its back.