Shadow Frost (Shadow Frost Trilogy Book 1)

by Coco Ma

  “Either way,” Asterin said, “Lux could beat both your sorry asses without breaking a sweat.” She beamed at her Iphovien stallion, a gift from her distant cousin, Duchess Rowena of Galanz. He responded with a merry whinny. Although all the royal steeds were bred beyond the highest standards for both speed and endurance, far more superior than the average horse, Iphoviens were the fastest breed in the world. Said to have once pulled the legendary chariot of the Goddess of Wind, Lady Reyva, they could travel unimaginable distances with little rest, so long as their riders managed to stay upright in the saddle. Asterin just hoped the others could keep up.

  Quinlan’s brow crinkled. “Lux? As in light? What kind of name is that for a black horse?”

  Asterin opened her mouth to answer when Rose trudged into the stables, her auburn hair pinned into a severe bun worthy of General Garringsford, a bow and quiver slung across her back. Fletcher, Asterin remembered. The Queen of Eradore gave them a little wave. “So, where are we off to first?”

  “The town of Aldville.” In addition to a map to Harry’s house, Garringsford had given her directions to the inn where they would stay, but Asterin knew the way to the river town well. “We can make it by nightfall. We’ll have to take it slow while we’re still in the city, but once we’re in the countryside, we’ll ride fast and hard.”

  “We’re ready when you are,” Eadric called from the other end of the stables with his massive horse, Grey, at hand. Powerfully built, the dappled thoroughbred huffed and pawed at the ground with impatience. Luna and her snow-white mare waited behind him, the girl looking as lovely as the sunrise itself in her fur-lined cloak and riding gear.

  The six of them led their horses out of the stables and onto the pathway before mounting. Asterin took a deep breath of the cool morning air and swung into the saddle with practiced ease, Amoux sheathed at her waist and her affinity stones clinking in her pack. She had switched out her old firestone for the one Garringsford had given her, but the others had shattered beyond repair. She rested her hand on Lux’s silky neck. “Onward, then.”

  They set off at a quick trot. Even the gardeners had yet to awaken, leaving the palace grounds empty and quiet as they passed the guardhouse. Magnolias and wisterias lined the path, branches almost entwining. Just up ahead, great rhododendrons boasted their magenta clusters, leaves and petals drooping with sparkling morning dewdrops as the sun began its ascent.

  The warbling lament of a lonesome bird and the hollow clip-clop of hooves against stone filled the silence as they continued on. At last, they arrived at the Wall, slowing as they approached the gates—a great mess of iron metalwork and interlocking steel gears and pistons that Asterin didn’t even pretend to understand, designed to open from the interior only. Sentries, positioned every fifty feet along the Wall’s interior, eyed their approach, though many more patrolled the ramparts from above. Six guarded the entrance. They saluted as Eadric shouted a command, and the enormous gates groaned open.

  “Your Royal Highness,” one of the guards said with a bow as Lux picked his way past. He was a very attractive young man, with smiling blue eyes and copper curls. “Safe travels.”

  Asterin tipped her chin in acknowledgment. “Carlsby.”

  As Orion rode by, he leaned down out of his saddle and whispered. “I’ll see you when I return.”

  Luna stifled a high-pitched giggle, and Asterin wondered what was so funny.

  “Y-yes, sir,” said Carlsby. Asterin glanced back to see Orion throw him a wink. The poor boy blushed pink from the tips of his ears to his neck.

  Then the gates clanged shut.

  Luna wrapped the reins tighter in her grip as they wound down the well-worn mountain road, marveling at the view as the city spread out beneath them. The early pink-and-orange sun rays cast an almost liquefied glow over the gabled roofs of Axaris, the beginning sputters of smoke from ruddy terracotta chimney pots drifting toward the lightening sky in curls of white. When Luna looked back, only the pastel turrets of the royal palace were visible over the lip of the Wall.

  A decade had flown by since she had arrived at the palace from the Oprehvean orphanage she had called home, alone and traumatized from a childhood she couldn’t quite remember. For her own safety, she had never left—not even once.

  “We’re passing the wards now,” Eadric warned from ahead.

  Luna shuddered involuntarily as she felt the swell of magic rush through her body, something she’d always longed to feel, coating her veins in an electrifying heat powerful enough to incinerate all of them from the inside out. Elemental sigils illuminated in streaks of all colors pulsated overhead, arcing above them and spreading into a rippling tunnel of light. As they passed, the sigils flickered like torch flames, winking in and out of sight only to unfold again farther away, never allowing their party to escape out of their range.

  Only when they crossed the last ward did Luna have the chance to catch her breath. You’re almost ready to pass out and you haven’t even left the city yet, she scolded herself, shooting furtive glances at the others, but they seemed unaffected by the wards. Was it because her magic was weaker than theirs?

  “Are you all right?” Asterin asked quietly, loud enough for only Luna to hear.

  “Yes, but that power …” Even her muscles quivered from fatigue.

  “The guards opened a passage for us,” said Asterin. “We only felt a tiny fraction of the wards’ true power.”

  Luna shivered. “Almighty Immortals.” How many ways could those wards kill a person?

  “John works with the squad that maintains the wards sometimes,” Orion said, overhearing them. “It’s hard work.”

  Asterin frowned. “John?”

  “Carlsby,” Orion said.

  “Since when have you known guards on a first-name basis?”

  “Hm?” The Royal Guardian blinked, and then chuckled. “Oh, no, he and I go way back.”

  They continued down the mountain in silence. Luna watched as Asterin leaned forward and whispered into Lux’s ears. The horse snorted and kicked into a gallop, easily overtaking the rest of the group. A startled Eadric shouted uselessly at her, spurring Grey and giving chase. Asterin let out a whoop as her Iphovien steed flew down the mountainside, girl and stallion blending into a single entity—hair, mane, cloak, and tail billowing behind them in a river of ebony.

  Quinlan let out a low whistle.

  “She’s crazy,” muttered Orion fondly.

  Luna caught something inexplicable in the Eradorian’s eyes as he stared after her and said, “A beautiful kind of crazy.”

  Quinlan inhaled the scent of deep-fried food as they passed through the main market square, stomach already grumbling. He’d missed breakfast. They moved in tight formation as quickly as they could, trying their best to avoid the stares of onlookers.

  The only weapons Quinlan carried were his three Ignatian daggers—one sheathed at his hip, one strapped to his forearm underneath the sleeve of his tunic, and one at his thigh. The omnistone was tucked safely in his chest pocket.

  After about two kilometers, the organized rows of market stalls began to thin, and the shouts of merchants and vendors flitted away into the wind like dust. Carriages clattered by, swerving aside to let their group pass when the road grew too narrow. They crossed beneath a beautiful marble archway marking the south residential sector, and Quinlan found himself admiring the architecture, the simple ornamentation of the sloping roofs and windows. In the distance, the mansions of the rich and noble rose above the grassy hillcrests of the west sector.

  The houses, too, eventually began to thin, giving way to vast fields. They drove their horses faster, galloping past caravans and travelers on foot heading for Axaris. The capital sat comfortably in the middle of the kingdom, with the Ljre River and the sprawling Aswiyre Forest slashing across the land like battle scars. They would have to ride around the southern half of the forest to rea
ch Corinthe—a two days’ journey from Axaris, which was why they would have to spend the night in Aldville, halfway between Axaris and their destination.

  A little after noon, a snaking expanse of green-blue water opened up before them, sparkling beneath the high sun. The Ljre River. They galloped alongside it, racing the white wisps of cloud above. Quinlan’s eyes watered from the cold of the wind.

  Only stopping every few hours to water the horses and to eat a quick meal, they managed to arrive in Aldville ahead of schedule, right as the sun began to set. Asterin guided all of them to a pleasant inn just on the edge of the town.

  “The Rainbow Salmon,” Rose read aloud, eyeing the leaping stone fish guarding the courtyard entrance.

  “I know it’s not a palace, Your Majesty,” Asterin said, “but it’ll have to do.”

  Rose grinned. “If the beds are any softer than the bunks in the barracks, it’ll be heaven.”

  Asterin laughed at that and they rode into the modest courtyard, where the innkeeper and a handful of other staff greeted them with discrete bows, offering to carry their packs and handle the horses.

  Quinlan dismounted and rubbed the soreness from his lower back with a groan. He felt something nudge his hand and looked over to find Rose tucking a small tin of salve into his hand with a wink.

  He smiled, twisting the lid off and coating his fingers in salve. “Thanks,” he called after her as she passed her reins to a stable hand and followed Eadric and Luna into the inn.

  Asterin sauntered over, stretching her arms toward the sky and revealing a tantalizing sliver of midriff. “What’s that?” Her face wrinkled as she peered into the tin. “Lard?”

  Quinlan laughed at her expression and waved his fingers under her nose. “No. It’s some leftover cooling salve Rose made for me after I started training with you. My tailbone has never been quite the same.” He shed his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head to rub salve into his muscles, closing his eyes with a sigh as the refreshing evening breeze licked up against his exposed chest. He heard a squeak and cracked one eye open to cast a sidelong glance at Asterin. “What now?”

  A furious blush had risen to her cheeks. “You … you can’t just take off your shirt like that,” she stammered.

  “Why? Does it bother you?” he teased, nothing short of delighted.

  “Yes! No! I don’t care. I’ve seen shirtless men before anyway.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  She scoffed at him and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, still flustered. “Of course.”

  “She’s seen me shirtless!” Orion yelled on his way into the inn, hands cupped around his mouth. A stable hand guiding Quinlan’s horse toward the stables stifled a laugh, and it seemed that even the horse itself snorted quietly in amusement.

  Momentarily taken aback, Quinlan’s eyes flickered between Guardian and charge. He shifted his feet. “So, you two …uh … ever, you know?”

  Asterin folded her arms across her chest. “Orion and me?” A nonchalant shrug. “Maybe. Who knows?”

  “Tell me,” Quinlan insisted.

  “Why are you being so nosy all of a sudden, Quinnie?”

  “Come on, tell me.” He prodded her in the side. In a flash, her hand latched around his wrist and an arm locked around his waist. Her foot planted between his legs and before he knew what was happening, the world was spinning out of control, his bare chest braced against her back and his feet lifting clear off the ground—

  His back slammed into the earth, knocking the air straight from his lungs.

  Quinlan wheezed. “What in—what in hell was that?”

  Asterin crouched beside him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face with a gentleness that sent shivers down his spine. “I thought you asked me to remind you to never get on the wrong end of my sword.” Her head cocked. “Did you and your older brother never wrestle?”

  “Taeron is more the bookish type,” Quinlan managed, still struggling to inhale properly.

  Asterin leaned back slightly. “I learned that move from Orion. Firsthand, of course.” The light of the setting sun caught in her eyes like green embers. Her mouth curved into a dangerous smile. “That was a warning. Next time you poke me—” she bent forward again so he could hear her whisper. “I break your wrists.”

  He disguised the hitch of his breath with a cough, blood singing. Try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from that smile. She was so close—close enough that if he were to just tilt his face up the slightest fraction, he might be able to—

  Asterin’s eyes narrowed.

  His face burned. “Right. So … you and Orion?”

  She regarded him, and then pinched his cheek. Hard. “Why are you so determined to find out?”

  “Just curious.”

  Asterin rolled her eyes, unimpressed, and then straightened, dusting herself off. She shot him a final smirk and sashayed away, providing him with a rather fetching—and very deliberate, he was sure—view of her backside as she disappeared into the inn.

  Which left him to pick himself up from the dirt.

  Later that evening, after a hot bath and a hearty dinner, they all headed upstairs to the second floor and said their goodnights before splitting off into pairs. Quinlan trudged after Rose into their shared room, complete with a well-loved chaise, wardrobe, and two beds indeed softer than their Elite bunks. While she busied herself with changing, he stared out the window overlooking the courtyard and the road beyond, enveloped by a clear, deep night, before drawing the curtains shut.

  In his sleep, he dreamed of an endless cold, chasing him through the darkness. It wasn’t one of those dreams where his legs felt too heavy to run or his feet were rooted to the spot. In this one, no matter how fast he ran, the thing behind him just ran faster. Slowly but surely, it caught up to him, looming overhead in a wave of shadow. When he looked up at it, his heart thundering in his throat, two yellow eyes and a wide mouth full of fangs gleamed back at him.

  And right before that mouth yawned open to swallow him whole, he could have sworn the darkness grinned.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Asterin woke with a start. Beside her, Luna slumbered on, her peaceful expression bathed in a soft, pulsing glow. With a frown, Asterin turned her head to the window, but it was still the dead of night—all was dark save for the stars.

  Turning the other way, she realized that her bedside table was the source of the glow. Not the table itself—but the affinity stones she had laid out in a neat line before going to sleep. She reached for her icestone, only to recoil when it burned her fingers. Cautiously, she hovered her fingers over the other stones, frowning when all of them radiated the same heat. She sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Her bare feet tingled against the chill of the floor and her arms prickled with gooseflesh as she eyed the stones warily.

  The door burst open. In one fluid motion, Asterin grabbed Amoux from where it lay propped up against the bedpost. She had the blade raised and ready to strike in the half second it took Quinlan to barge in, his daggers flashing and indigo flames dancing at his shoulders.

  He shoved her against the wall, muffling her scream of surprise with his hand. “Quiet.”

  She bit his thumb to force him to release her and hissed, “What is with you and breaking into my room?”

  Ignoring her completely, his eyes went instead to the bedside table. It had begun to smoke beneath the stones. “This is bad,” he said, flinging open the wardrobe and thrusting some clothes at her. “Get dressed.” He pulled something out of his pocket and pressed it into her palm—the omnistone. “And use this, not your usual stones.” His gaze met hers. “You might need it.”

  “Wait—”

  Luna groaned from the bed and rubbed her eyes. They settled onto Quinlan and widened to full moons. “Qu-Quinlan?”

  “Pack your things,” he said. “No
w.”

  Rose appeared at the doorway as Luna scrambled out of bed, her quiver slung over her shoulder and a ball of greenish light hovering above her head. She wore a strange bodysuit made from layers of blue scales that rippled turquoise in the ball’s glow. “Any sign?”

  Quinlan simply jerked his chin at Asterin’s affinity stones. “Stay with them,” he told his cousin. “I’ll shield the window and seal the door. On no account do you let anyone—or anything—in. Understood?”

  Asterin looked up halfway through lacing her boots. “Not even you?”

  “Not even me.” Quinlan raised his palms to the window and closed his eyes. “Skjyolde.”

  Light bled into the window in glittering rivulets, swarming thicker and thicker until the glass flared a blinding indigo. A wave of suffocating heat swept over the room, withering the frilled curtains. When Quinlan stepped back, the light had faded, the window seemingly untouched—but Asterin could sense a new energy, feel the trace of the powerful magic left behind like vibrations through the air.

  Quinlan bolted to the entrance. “Be ready!” he warned before slamming the door behind him. Gold lines laced with red blazed between the door’s crevices, crisscrossing over the surface until fiery light encased it entirely. Then that light, too, faded.

  Something suddenly clicked in the back of Asterin’s mind. “He … he didn’t use an affinity stone.”

  “He doesn’t need one,” said Rose.

  “How is that even possible?” Luna asked, pulling off her nightgown and digging through the wardrobe for trousers.

  “Well, you would have to be pretty damn powerful to start with,” said Rose. “But what no one really understands is that affinity stones aren’t actually the source of our magic. Magic flows within our bodies just as blood does, though for weaker wielders, using magic without a stone is more like walking with one leg.”

  Asterin shivered. “Quinlan said that something was coming. Could it …” Her pulse quickened. “Could it be the demon?”