Menduarthis smiled. Roakh looked from his queen to Menduarthis, and his scowl deepened.
"Menduarthis is a liar and conniver," said Kunin Gatar. "And many troublesome things besides. But in this, I think he is telling the truth."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Hweilan said.
The queen looked to Menduarthis, and again Hweilan was struck by the girlish expression on a being of such power. She'd never had an older sister, but if she had, one who perhaps liked to torment her younger siblings, she would have very much expected to see a look on her face like the queen had now.
"She really doesn't know?" said the queen.
"So it would seem, my queen," said Menduarthis.
"What is this?" said Hweilan, looking back to Menduarthis.
"Yes!" said Roakh, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "What-?"
"Oh, flutter off," said Menduarthis.
Roakh stood to his full height, which was still well below that of Menduarthis, and shouted, "I demand to know what-!"
"Be silent, crow," said the queen, barely more than a whisper.
Roakh snapped his mouth shut and glared at Hweilan.
"Hweilan," said the queen, and Hweilan turned to look at her. "Child of Damarans and Vil Adanrath. And what else, I wonder?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." It was true.
The queen stood from her throne, and the seat crumpled to frost behind her. She walked to Hweilan, and it was all Hweilan could do to keep from backing away.
"Let's have a look, shall we?" said the queen.
There was a hiss in the air around her, and before Hweilan could move she found herself encased in ice, much like Lendri, only her hands and head free. She could not move, and she could feel the cold swiftly seeping through her heavy clothes.
Kunin Gatar took Hweilan's right hand in both of her own, and very gently opened her fingers. Hweilan was too shocked to resist.
"What is this?" said the queen, studying the scar.
"Curious, isn't it?" said Menduarthis.
"What does it mean?" the queen asked.
"I don't know," Menduarthis said, and at the same time, Hweilan said "Death."
The queen looked up, and Hweilan felt the Presence in her mind flex its claws. "What?"
"S-so Lendri told me," said Hweilan. "K-A-N. The runes are Dethek. But Lendri says it is a word of the Vil Adanrath for 'death.'"
"Hm," said Menduarthis. "Curiouser and curiouser. You are a mystery, little flower."
Hweilan felt a sharp pain in her palm. She gasped and looked down. A thin shard of ice pierced the middle of her palm. The queen held the other end, and even as she watched, the ice turned red with blood.
The queen pulled it out and held the red icicle in front of Hweilan's eyes. "We shall see."
Kunin Gatar closed her eyes, her lips parted, just slightly, and slid the frozen blood into her mouth. She leaned her head back and swallowed. A slight, almost ecstatic tremor passed through her, and the queen sighed, long and low.
"Oh, Menduarthis," she said, "you are a liar." The queen lowered her head and looked Hweilan in the eye. "But not today."
The ice holding Hweilan disappeared, and she fell at the queen's feet.
She heard the queen say, "Menduarthis, what is the word mortals use?"
"See?" Menduarthis laughed softly. "In her blood. Something… other."
The threads of Hweilan's emotions had been pulled as far they would stretch, and finally they snapped. She sat on her knees in the chamber of the fey queen and broke into an uncontrolled laughter until her gut ached and tears made it halfway down her cheeks before freezing solid.
When she was able to gain control of herself at last, she looked up. The queen was sitting upon her throne, looking down on her with an amused expression. Menduarthis was still circling her like a cat considering what to do with a mouse.
"You're mad," she told him.
"You wouldn't be the first to say so," he said. "But even a madman can tell you which way the wind blows."
"What game is this?" said Hweilan. "You capture me and drag me off to this godsforsaken wasteland, and now-"
"Now you find out you're one of us," said Menduarthis. He stopped his pacing, stood before her, and gave an exaggerated bow worthy of a drunken bard. He spared a glance to Roakh and the queen. "A mortal nature? Yes. But also… something else. Something magical."
"I'm not like you," she said.
Menduarthis laughed and said, "Well, there's like and there's like. I was born eladrin, as was Our Lady Queen. But we have… improved ourselves, yes?"
Kunin Gatar smiled.
"Your parents were your parents," Menduarthis continued. "I'm not suggesting otherwise. But your father's father? Your mother's father? Or your grandmother's grandfather's grandmother? Who knows? The blood runs thin in you, perhaps, but it runs true. Someone from… well, somewhere else planted a seed in your family garden. You're Damaran, to be sure. If you say you're kin to Lendri there… well, I have no reason to doubt you. But make no mistake. You're something else too. Something… more."
"I don't believe you!"
"Believe what you like." Menduarthis rolled his eyes. "Believe Toril is flat and dragons lurk past the edges of the map. Believe a lie, but it won't stop the world from turning. And it won't stop you from being a god walking over ants."
"Shall we find out, Menduarthis?" Kunin Gatar rose from her throne and walked past him. She had a most eager look in her eyes. Hweilan had once seen that same look in the eyes of two Nar boys after they'd pulled the wings off a grasshopper and headed for the nearest anthill.
Menduarthis scowled. "Find out…?"
"Find out whose seed went into whose garden."
Menduarthis blinked twice, very quickly. It was the first time Hweilan could remember seeing him shaken. "Wh-why?" he said, and gave what even Hweilan could see was a false smile. "We see the flower in bloom before us. Does it matter who planted it?"
"Ah, Menduarthis, you forget. This particular flower may need plucking. It would be wise to make sure we aren't trampling in the wrong garden."
Roakh made a noise that was something between the clearing of his throat and the caw of a raven. "Does this mean you won't be needing me further, my queen?"
Kunin Gatar kept her eyes fixed on Hweilan as she answered, "No one likes a glutton, Roakh. Haven't I already fed you today?"
There was no reply, and Hweilan could not tear her eyes away from the queen to look at Roakh.
"Careful, Ro," Menduarthis called to him. "If she is Vil Adanrath, she might eat you."
The queen stepped in front of Hweilan and looked down on her. Had she grown taller? It seemed Kunin Gatar placed a finger under Hweilan's chin and pulled her gaze up so that she stared right into the queen's eyes. Hweilan could feel the sharp nail pressing into her skin. So cold.
"Let's see what we can see."
Hweilan could not break her gaze from the queen. Close up, she thought herself a fool for believing there was any blue in those eyes at all. They were two orbs of white, cold and pitiless as winter. They grew in Hweilan's mind, and she fell into them.
The Presence in her mind was no longer the tiger lurking in the grass. The tiger had pounced and was devouring her, raking through her mind, taking great bites out of her, swallowing, tearing, then digging deeper, digesting every morsel. But then the Presence came to a deep part of Hweilan's mind, a tiny spark. And where the queen was cold incarnate, this spark burned hot. When the Presence bit down, something bit back.
Kunin Gatar gasped and fell back as if struck. She and Hweilan hit the floor at the same time. Menduarthis simply stood there with his mouth hanging open.
The queen rose first. Hweilan lay on the black floor, watching, but unable to move. She felt like a wineskin that had been filled to the point of bursting, then emptied completely.
Kunin Gatar pushed herself to her feet and swayed a moment. Hweilan saw something strange. The queen had been the very image of cold, all whiteness like frost, broken only by cool shades of blue, gray, and black. But no more. A trickle of red ran out one side of the queen's nose. Blood.