Perpetual Winter

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWOShifting

They said the shifters were gone. That the stories of humans taking Bee-form were fanciful myths meant to scare the other clans. They said no one could enter the hives or communicate with a Bee Queen. But I could. I could walk within the hive and stand before the terrifying mandible of Queen Sonora without harm.

The palace staff didn’t believe me. They laughed behind their hands at my vivid imagination and scolded me for my obsession. They thought me unbalanced after my mother’s death.

I’d decided shifting would convince them. If I could take Bee-form in the Outer world, then they would know. But the overheard conversation showed I had run out of time to prove it. The sad fact remained; my mother hadn’t taught me how. Touching the queen in the crook of my arm projected me into the hive but there my skill ended. I couldn’t achieve Bee-form either in the hive or in the luxurious flower gardens of the palace. Mine was a half-life, a hybrid of the in between.

I found myself a secluded place in the rose gardens where I knew the bees loved to forage for nectar. The sun beat down on my honeyed hair and I lay beneath the leafy canopy and closed my eyes. “I won’t go anywhere I don’t wish to,” I whispered, declaring the petulant ultimatum and still believing I might have some control over my own life. Placing my right index finger over the image of the queen on my warm skin, I wished myself elsewhere and held my breath.

The wax floor of the honeycomb jarred my bones as I landed. The heady scent of sugar filled my senses and satiated a deep ache in my soul. Tiredness and contentment shrouded me. Pushing myself upright, I crouched with my spine against a knotted wall and stretched my fingers out before me. The honeycomb grounded me in the hive, sticking to my clothes and holding me in place. Delicate and ethereal, my fingers moved with grace and translucence. The wonder of it both mystified and amazed me, that I could be both here and not here, straddling two worlds like a sylph. In the Outer, my human body twitched and moved against the soft loam. In the hive, my Bee-nature drew companionship from the busy occupants.

The height of the sun left the hive emptier than usual as the bees foraged. I sat for a while and watched the main entrance as lone figures entered to fill the stores with pollen. A fluttering stirred in my breast and I closed my eyes, my lips curving in a smile of relief. “I’m here,” I whispered. “Where are you?”

A soothing flutter gave the reply and I let my muscles relax. I sent my mind to the Outer, receiving a snapshot image of my body lying prone with the appearance of a deep sleep. Sunshine scattered azure highlights over my dress but no one disturbed me. I withdrew the tendrils of thought and recaptured them, drawing them back to me in the gentle thrum of the hive.

Around me hung the scent of hawthorn and shadbush and I inhaled, delighting in the heady rush their nectar gave me. Vibrations through the floor sent a shiver along my body as I absorbed the message. Workers at the entrance communicated the discovery of a new patch of sage on the outskirts of the colony’s territory and a flurry of activity ensued amid the hum of excitement. Watching the constant movement of the hive gave me peace. And I needed peace more than any of the finest commodities available in the Outer. Pollen attached itself to my hair in gaudy daubs of yellow and white dust and I closed my eyes to concentrate on the task in hand. They would travel with me back to the Outer and I would arrive dishevelled and hive stained, but without an explanation fit to satisfy Bliss.

A worker in Bee-form halted before me and I froze, ever wary of attack. Where once I’d moved freely from queen cup to Outer without trouble, I sensed an unwelcome element of change in the air and my visits had become more perilous. The bees’ tolerance of my presence seemed less a guarantee and more a lottery. They appeared on edge and doubt crept into my expeditions like an unwelcome companion.

Without the ability to transform into Bee-body, I visited as a pale outline which hung like a translucent mist. The bees accepted my presence but ignored me. I sensed their Queen’s mood through a tenuous instinct, able to discern her behaviour even in my human form. She had communicated until recently, piping her encouragement and seeming aware of my thoughts and movements. Then something had changed and she’d grown silent.

I’d sensed a strain in our connection before it happened, the gentle flutters in my chest becoming less frequent. Her indifference acted as a drug, driving me to visit more often to find its cause. Her presence seemed barred and the honeyed halls I’d known so well felt foreign and dangerous. A darkness hung across the passage to her chamber and I couldn’t breach it. When during my last visit I’d failed again to sneak into her presence the pointless foray left me feeling more exposed.

The worker bee’s legs swerved towards me as she dodged an approaching foreigner. I sniffed the air and the aroma of another queen’s pheromones reached my nostrils. The visitor staggered on, laden with pockets of nectar and daubs of pollen clinging to the fine hairs of her legs. I tensed, knowing the guards would permit her safe entry only because she carried gifts for the store. Her antennae darted left and right as she moved deeper through the hive. I watched her thorax slump as she realised the danger from her lapse of judgment. Her excitement had sent her to the wrong hive. It seemed doubtful she would leave alive. The colours of her coat showed the blackness of a native bee and once unburdened of her day’s foraging, would mark her as vulnerable and a stranger in another’s colony. I pushed my face against my knees and clamped my hands over my ears. I knew what came next. The worker tapped her back feet, seeking permission from the queen to exercise judgement. I cringed, squeezing my eyes closed against the outcome. They would kill her and toss her body from the entrance.

My mother’s chiding returned, as clear as if she sat beside me on the hive floor. ‘Respect the order of the colony, Estefania Melitto. They are your clan. Above all else, protect them.’

“I’m trying.” I mouthed the words and conjured up Mother’s gentle face as she instructed me. The fingers of my right hand brushed across the black-and-white image of the marching bees on the soft underside of my forearm. They twitched in the hive’s musty air, craving the touch of Mother’s silken fingers on mine. I sought her wisdom. None came. Just the sting of her loss and the denial of understanding. She had abandoned me. Like my father and now my sister.

Impatient, I reached out to my hive twin again. “Where are you, Simile?” I demanded. Petulance laced my tone and I struggled to calm myself. A raised heart rate and heightened temper would make me a target. Leaning forward, I peered along the slick corridor towards the direction she would come. I imagined her slender form and glossy blonde hair, an image of my six-year-old self. Often a boy trailed with her, black haired and shy. His presence infused me with jealousy though his lack of speech made it impossible to find out anything about him. “Hurry Simile!” I hissed. Her vibrations felt half-hearted and lacklustre, reaching me through the hive floor as though sent without enthusiasm. “I’m in danger!” I pleaded. “Something is coming for me.”

“Estefania!” Bliss’ voice echoed in my mind and I knew she searched for me in the Outer. I fought the distraction of her pestering. Holding my breath, I ignored her insistent tone which communicated trouble.

The worker moved on, losing interest in the approaching drama with the native bee and keen to collect from the sage before its usefulness ended. I sighed in frustration, no nearer learning how to shift to Bee-form than in the other times. I needed access to the queen’s chamber, but the sense of foreboding prevented me from moving.

My hive twin answered with more strength and I imagined her rising from the comb floor and seeking me. A permanent resident of the hive, she safeguarded the better half of my nature. Somehow severed during the grief process, she formed a carbon copy of my childish innocence at the point in time where Mother died. I disliked the person I’d become without her on the Outer but seemed unable to redress the balance.

I tugged on our connection and felt her fluttered reply. Then pain infused my cheek, accompanied by the muffled sound of a slap. My consciousness crashed into my human body on the Outer without grace. I gasped. The hive disappeared and sunlight made my eyes water. “No!” I shouted as my head shook from the blow. “By the grace of Sonora, leave me alone! I need to see my simile!”

My nurse stood over me in the Outer, wobbling breasts and myriad chins belying her calm expression. My fingers clutched at the soil beneath them, tearing up clods as I rose to a sitting position. She jabbed a finger into my face. “Never speak that name again! There is danger in it,” she snarled. “Imaginary beehives are for children.” She prodded my budding breasts through the fabric of my dress and the corset creaked. “You’re finished with childhood. Get up, Estefania Melitto! Behave as a princessa of your clan.”

“It’s not imaginary. And you slapped me!” Horror and indignation seeped through my voice as I rubbed a palm across the hot patch on my cheek. “You can’t slap me, Bliss. I’ll tell my father.”

She snorted and a familiar wariness entered her expression. “Do it, Estefania. He’s at war again and won’t answer you. No one else wants to look after such an ungrateful child. Get up.” Hauling me by my arm to a standing position, she brushed soil from my dress. Fluffing the fabric as though preparing a bride for a wedding, she grunted in dissatisfaction. “I give up trying to make a lady of you.”

“I don’t wish to be a lady,” I grumbled, shucking her grip from my wrist and adopting a well-practiced pout. “The hive fascinates me. Did you know the queen bends an entire colony to her will without shouting?” I rubbed my cheek. “Or slapping.”

“Ridiculous child!” Bliss raged. “You must stay away from it.”

I shook my head and pollen bounced in my curls, the tiny specks the only evidence of my visit. My chin rose in defiance. “Stay away from what? You say it doesn’t exist. One day I’ll take my Bee-form and ask Queen Sonora why she ordered my mother killed.”

“Stop!” Bliss rounded on me and her eyes goggled in her head. If she intended to frighten me, she succeeded. I took a cautious step back and then another. “You will not go to the hive again,” she ordered, each word enunciated for effect. “It’s in your imagination and forbidden, Estefania. You are not a Bee and never will be. The Melitto clan haven’t taken Bee-form for generations. Your childhood is over. Today!” Her voice faltered and I detected sadness in the determined set of her jaw. “Over.”

The usual protests failed me and I ran to catch her up, the soft grass bending underfoot. Domed roof tops rose through the trees as the palace shimmered before us. “You don’t understand.” My voice held a characteristic wail. “My hive twin grows weaker. She didn’t come to me though I still sense her here.” My fingers tapped my bodice. “It feels wrong. I need her. She holds all the best parts of me.”

Bliss sighed and maintained her fast pace. “Stop, Estefania! This talk of splitting yourself in half is a fancy for magicians. Perhaps reunite with her and become a better person. I’m tired of disciplining the bad half.”

The steps into the palace garden rose to meet us and she pressed an embroidered slipper to the bottom stair.

“Who’s coming for me?” I caught her sleeve and saw a strange emotion crash through her expression in the seconds before she masked it. Alarm kept the sharp breath in my chest. “I order you to tell me.”

Her face screwed into a look of dismissal and she shook her head. “I can’t help you anymore, Estefania. Your fancies must end, child.”

I swallowed and scented weakness. “Please, tell me. The guard doesn’t need to know.”

Her eyes flashed and panic bubbled up to accompany the alarm. My fingers clawed at her sleeve, balling it into my fist and collecting more. Her expression shuttered and I knew she wouldn’t tell me. My hand dropped the wrinkled sleeve and I took a step back, my eyes narrowing. “You won’t help me?”

Bliss’ shoulders slumped. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I have my orders.”

“So, you’re abandoning me too?” My teeth chattered in my head, setting up a clamour which confused my thoughts. My mind churned with possibilities, none of them preferable to this. “My bodyguard just returned from another furlough. You think I don’t notice him coming and going, but I do. His replacement is tardy and inefficient.” My lips drew into a pout. “The one with the scarred face is impossible to lose. I find this one too easy to fool.”

Bliss put her hands on her rippling waist and glared at me. “Yes, Estefania, I’ve noticed. Which is why I’m searching for you yet again!” She reached for me and seized my upper arm. I shucked her off and stood my ground. “And yes, he’s returned.”

“You can’t let them take me. Zinnia and I will appeal to Father and prevent it.” I licked my lips seeing the resistance in her eyes. Tears pricked behind my eyelids and a familiar sense of loss washed over me as a cold wave. The stunning backdrop of the island and its sumptuous palace seemed to pale against my fear. “Am I going home to Melitto? Tell me, what is my homeland like?” My mind contained no images of it, exile my only memory.

“Don’t quiz me like you do the simple palace boys!” Bliss snapped. “I can tell you nothing.”

Disappointment and powerlessness made a heady concoction. “Zinnia will prevent it,” I stuttered, though my chest hitched. Bliss pushed out her bottom lip and sighed, drawing my face into the cushion of her chest. She said nothing and I dried my eyes on her apron and let her pat my back and play the role of a mother.

“Can I visit with Zinnia?” My face creased in confusion and my tearful gaze drifted out to sea. “Does she know you’re sending me away? Please, Bliss, don’t send me away. I’ll go to the hive less often, I promise. Just say you’ll stay with me?” A sense of doom settled on my shoulders. “Let’s find Zinnia together. I haven’t seen her new quarters. She’ll stop all this.” Eagerness for distraction made me shake my nurse’s wrist.

Bliss gulped and I followed her gaze. She looked beyond the rugged cliffs and blinked against the sun’s heat. We saw it at the same time and held a collective breath. The dot I’d mistaken for a bird on the horizon only moments before, had changed. “It’s time,” she whispered, her wide face paling to a white mask.

“For what?” I demanded. “What is that?” The huge battleship maintained a direct course towards the island, taut black sails soaring overhead.

Bliss swallowed. “For your marriage,” she whispered. “The Men of Forlornn have come for you.”