Shadow Frost (Shadow Frost Trilogy Book 1)

by Coco Ma

  Beside her, Quinlan summoned his fire, but his arm lurched downward at the last moment and charred the tables and chairs instead of Priscilla. Waves of heat rippled over them. Beads of sweat rolled down Quinlan’s jaw as he struggled to extinguish the flames before they could cause Asterin and him any harm.

  Priscilla laughed, cruel and cold. “Naive little fools.” With a flick of her wrist, Quinlan’s eyes rolled back into his skull.

  Asterin cried out, barely catching him as he crumpled. He convulsed against her, and Asterin felt that wriggling again—a little coil of darkness burrowing into her mind, spreading faster than hellfire.

  And then her greatest fears and her worst nightmares rushed from the deepest, darkest recesses of her soul and became real.

  The room around her crumbled to ash, the floor caving inward. She fell with it, crashing down, tumbling in a heap atop the remains of the palace. The charred mess of what had once been the Wall piled around her, and below—oh, almighty Immortals—below, her city was unrecognizable, nothing but a ruin of smoking cinders. She could hear the chanting of spirits, of angry ghosts, a chorus of spine-chilling whispers.

  The rubble shifted at her feet.

  She stifled a scream as three corpses clawed their way out into the open and crawled toward her.

  Her father. Frail and white as the first snow of winter. His milky, clouded eyes fixated on her, as if to say, “This is your fault,” even though it never could have been.

  Luna. Sweet Luna. Her before face, kind and open, the one Asterin had known—but now … her throat, slit.

  Asterin kicked the third corpse in the face as hard as she could, her eyes turned up to the scarlet sky so that she wouldn’t see its owner, but she still caught a glance of a signature crimson cloak—

  A moan drifted to her through the still, arid air like a lone horn, crescendoing as more voices joined in answering. Dozens upon dozens of corpses clawed up the crest of the mountain toward her. They were all faceless, but she knew they were her people, the people of her kingdom. Asterin backed away as they jerked to their feet, closing in from all sides. She sobbed as Amoux materialized at her hip, bile rising in her throat. With no choice, she drew her sword forth, weighing a thousand tons in her hand.

  “Please,” she begged the dead, falling to her knees. “I can’t.” But they continued to lumber forward, reaching out to her. Asterin buried her face in her hands. Amoux clanged to the ground as she felt their clammy touch on her arms, on her neck—

  And then, just as quickly as it had begun, everything stopped.

  Asterin let out a heaving, broken gasp as that horrible, suffocating sensation faded from her head. Her face itched from the salt of her tears, and the taste of blood was sharp in her mouth—she had chewed her cheek raw. In the midst of her hallucinations, she had ended up near the entrance to the antechamber, leaving Quinlan abandoned and unconscious midway between her and Priscilla.

  Before Asterin stood Luna, palms braced outward to shield them with her own waves of light from the oncoming tide of darkness about to wash over Quinlan.

  “Mother!” Luna shouted, raising her illusionstone high above her head.

  Priscilla gaped. The darkness withered away. “Luna?”

  A great beast soared over Asterin’s head, wings stretching up to the ceiling like sails caught in a ferocious gale. Harry. With Priscilla distracted, the demon torpedoed to the floor, wings tucked close to his body. At the same moment that he clamped his teeth around Quinlan’s collar, he unfurled his wings. Faster than Priscilla could react, Harry hauled Quinlan into the air and swooped toward Asterin, depositing the Eradorian safely at her side.

  Luna gave her mother a frigid smile. “Surprised to see me?”

  Harry landed and prowled in front of them protectively while Asterin checked Quinlan’s pulse. Steady.

  Priscilla stammered in disbelief. “Y-you broke the spell.”

  “Yes,” said Luna. “The spell that took everything from me. My powers, my memories—”

  Priscilla threw her hands in the air. “I was trying to protect you!”

  “From what?”

  “You were a mistake,” Priscilla said, her expression softening. At Luna’s flinch, the woman hastily added, “The greatest mistake I ever made. But you don’t understand—he never wanted a child—he would have killed you if he had found out, so I had to hide you—”

  “Who would have killed me?” demanded Luna. “Other than you, by conjuring a demon and then lying about it? The thirty guards, the slaughtered villagers. You sent us to avenge them, but you just wanted us dead!”

  “I never sent you!” Priscilla shouted. “You were never meant to go!” She pointed at Asterin. “That little bitch was just supposed to take some of her precious Elites. How could I have guessed that she would drag you along with her? She ruined everything!”

  Asterin barely had time to fling up an energy shield as Priscilla sent a blast of darkness at her, propelling her three feet backward and nearly causing her to trip over Quinlan, still out cold on the floor.

  Luna threw herself into the line of fire again, shining brighter than a star as she used her magic to push Priscilla further back. “Don’t worry,” Luna said to Asterin over her shoulder, sparing her a single glance filled with sincerity and burning resolve. “I won’t let her hurt you.”

  At that moment, all Asterin could think about were the many times she had doubted Luna. But with or without powers, Luna had always possessed a goodness in her heart that Asterin had never quite been able to fathom. Despite everyone’s misgivings, Luna had remained brave and loyal.

  With a growl, Harry launched into the air and shot toward Priscilla, forcing her to defend against both his and Luna’s attacks at the same time. Luna gained another foot, pushing the darkness farther and farther away, conquering Priscilla’s magic with her own.

  “Luna,” Asterin choked out.

  “Hush,” Luna cut her off, a smile playing on her lips. “I can handle my mother.” The smile slipped away when Priscilla’s darkness gave Luna a particularly brutal shove.

  “Get out of the way, Luna,” Priscilla hissed, ducking as Harry’s fangs snapped an inch from her neck. “You don’t understand—”

  “What I understand,” said Luna, voice trembling, “is that you want to take away the person who has stood by my side all the years that you did not.”

  “I made you her lady-in-waiting so you could live a life of comfort and luxury!” Priscilla’s face twisted in grotesque frustration. “I gave you anything you could ever desire, and this is how you repay me?” The next time Harry hurtled for Priscilla, she grinned and held up a hand. “Shadow demon! In the power of our blood bond, I order you to kill Asterin Faelenhart.”

  To Asterin’s horror, Harry halted midair and turned his glazed stare upon her. Didn’t he say blood bonds were myths?

  Asterin latched onto Quinlan and began lugging him away from the fight. “Harry,” she shouted, “snap out of it—”

  And then Harry’s barbed tail lashed across Priscilla’s face.

  Priscilla screamed, holding her cheek. “Shadow demon—”

  Harry shifted, human hands wrapping around Priscilla’s throat. “For the last time, it’s Harry.”

  “Enough.” The black veins in Priscilla’s neck bulged. Harry swore and recoiled as spikes erupted from her skin, piercing clean through his palms. A blast of shadow sent him careening into a column, and Asterin’s ears rang at the ominous crack of fractured marble. Harry slid to the floor and Luna gasped, the column teetering above him. Asterin conjured a barrier of ice over his body just as the column gave way with a deafening crash.

  “Why are you doing this?” Luna screamed at Priscilla, voice breaking. “Why are you trying to hurt my friends?”

  But Priscilla’s attention had shifted. For the second time, her shadow magic receded, collecting arou
nd her body in a shield. Her eyes fixed beyond Asterin and Luna, glinting with something akin to wonder. “Jakob?” she said. “You … you came for me?”

  Both Asterin and Luna whirled around to find the King of Ibreseos in the ruined doorway.

  A snarl ripped from Luna’s lips. She assaulted Priscilla’s shield with a fork of blue light. “Answer me!”

  Priscilla struggled to keep her footing. “Jakob, help me!”

  The king moved a fraction forward.

  Luna howled. “Answer me, Mother!”

  King Jakob froze. “Mother?” he echoed.

  Priscilla’s eyes widened. To Luna, she shrieked, “What are you on about, girl?” Her voice raised an octave. “How dare you even suggest such a thing? You disgust me with your nerve!”

  Luna turned to face Jakob. It would have taken a blind idiot to miss the resemblance between her and Priscilla, now that the spell had been lifted.

  “Priscilla,” Jakob rumbled, striding into the room. “Who is the father?”

  The former queen released a tiny whimper.

  “Who is the father?”

  Priscilla’s shoulders slumped with each punctuated syllable. At last, she surrendered.

  “You.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  King Jakob inhaled sharply, stopping just behind Asterin and Luna.

  Luna’s face paled. “What?”

  “You kept this from me,” said the king, expression shuttering.

  “You said you never wanted a child!” Priscilla cried.

  Luna barked a sarcastic laugh. “What a lovely family reunion.” She curtsied to King Jakob. “Father.” And then without warning, she rammed a dozen arcs of light into Priscilla’s shield.

  Stepping away from Quinlan, still unconscious at her feet, Asterin shook off her own surprise and summoned her magic. Together, she and Luna bombarded Priscilla with ice and light, reducing her shield to tatters.

  “Jakob, help!” Priscilla shrieked again.

  The King of Ibreseos stared at her.

  And then he took a step back.

  Priscilla let out an anguished wail of betrayal. “How could you?” she shrilled. “I did anything and everything you asked of me! The reason I came to this damned kingdom in the first place, the reason I even began practicing dark magic—”

  “I never asked you to do any of those things,” Jakob thundered. “You were starving for more power. You were starving for the throne. You couldn’t kill the heiress of your own House, so you stole another one instead. You’ve pushed yourself past the brink, Priscilla, and I will not fall with you. After you killed Elyssa over a misinterpretation—”

  “Elyssa,” Asterin whispered, the name lighting some abyss deep inside of her. “Elyssa,” she repeated, her magic petering out. “I—I know that name.”

  Jakob’s expression softened. “You look exactly as she did, all those years ago.”

  Asterin’s heart stuttered. “You mean …”

  “Yes, child,” he said gruffly. “She was your mother.”

  “And you …” Asterin trailed off. “You knew her?”

  Jakob swallowed. “She was once one of my dearest friends.”

  “And Priscilla killed her.”

  The king’s jaw clenched. He dipped his chin once.

  Without another word, Asterin thrust out her hand and launched a volley of ice spears at Priscilla, their razor tips glimmering with jagged rage. Priscilla screeched and conjured shadows to deflect the attack, but one spear made it past her shield and struck her across the shoulder, leaving a ragged slash.

  With a gasp of pain, Asterin stumbled backward, one hand gripping her own shoulder. No weapon had struck there, nothing at all, and yet bright red droplets streamed through her fingers, splattering on the floor. Where did that come from?

  “Asterin!” Luna cried.

  “Jakob,” Priscilla wailed.

  The king shook his head. “Forgive me, but this is not my fight. I have no business here.” Then he spun on his heel, vanishing through the exit.

  “Luna, do you see how he treats me?” Priscilla panted, staggering toward them. “The person who loves him most? You can say whatever you want about me, but I love you like no one else ever will. I’m your mother. We’re family—”

  “You may be my mother,” Luna whispered in a voice that promised terrifying wrath, “but you will never be my family.”

  Priscilla gaped at the rejection, poison building behind her expression.

  Asterin summoned a second volley of ice, but hands closed around her wrists and she turned to find Quinlan behind her. She hadn’t even noticed him awaken. “Don’t,” he said. His next words came in a messy, inarticulate cascade. “You can’t injure her. Reflective spell. Like the ropes from Harry’s traps. She’s cast it on herself. If you attack her, it will rebound.” His fingers hovered over her shoulder. “You’re bleeding pretty badly. Haelein.”

  “What are we going to do?” Asterin breathed as her wound closed up.

  “Why can’t we just cast reflective spells on ourselves?” asked Luna.

  Asterin shook her head. No one had tutored Luna before, so she wouldn’t know. “It’s only possible to cast such a spell on inanimate objects. That is, unless you use shadow magic.”

  “Luna,” said Quinlan, distracting Priscilla with a swarm of fire arrows, hot enough to redden his skin from her reflective spell, but not burn. “Can you buy us some time with your illusions? We might be able to do Priscilla some damage and heal ourselves at the same time. Even then, there’s no way to get a kill shot unless one of us …”

  “I have an idea,” Luna said. “If it doesn’t work …” She shook her head. “Either way, I’ll handle it.”

  Something in her voice told Asterin exactly what she meant by handle.

  She grasped Luna firmly by the shoulders. “I’ve lost enough already to Priscilla,” Asterin growled, forcing her friend to meet her gaze. “And I sure as hell won’t lose you to her, too.”

  “Always, Asterin,” Luna whispered. “I’ll always stay by your side. You are my family. I will always choose you.”

  Asterin swallowed the thick knot in her throat. “So what’s your idea?”

  Before she could answer, however, Quinlan let out a curse and Asterin looked up just in time to watch a shower of dark arrows rain down upon them. Quinlan shielded them from the worst of it, but one arrow slipped past his defenses, slicing him all the way from his wrist to his elbow.

  Priscilla cackled and conjured a second barrage. Quinlan grimaced, the deep gouge leaking black sludge down his arm.

  Without thinking, Asterin’s fingers brushed over the wound. “Haelein.” She watched his skin mend. Yet to her utter disbelief, it reopened not moments later. “Haelein,” she said again. And again, and again, but to no avail. “Quinlan, I can’t heal it.”

  “What do you mean?” he said, still focused on blocking Priscilla’s arrows.

  Fear surged through her veins at the breathy rasp of his voice, the bluish-gray pallor of his skin. “Quinlan, you have to stop!”

  “I’m fine,” he panted, every inhale growing more laborious.

  Priscilla grinned at them from the other side of Quinlan’s shield, its strength waning with every blow. The woman’s tongue darted over her teeth, as if she could already taste victory.

  Quinlan fell to his knees. Asterin lunged for him. She had no plan, no idea how to help. Perhaps … perhaps, if she could somehow let him borrow her power, let their magic fuse into one …

  Exhaling, she laced her fingers with his, imagining her magic flowing through their connection and into him. Slowly, a current like the one she had felt when they had chased Priscilla hummed through her and fueled the weakening inferno beside her. She willed the shield to become more powerful.

  And to her wondrous awe, it did.


  Only, the arrows kept coming. Asterin felt each blow to the shield like a punch to the gut. How Quinlan had managed on his own for this long was beyond her comprehension.

  The shield wavered, and Asterin looked up just in time to watch an arrow sail through and strike Quinlan, tearing into his abdomen and halfway out his back.

  “No!” Asterin shouted.

  The grip on her hand fell slack and his body sagged to the ground, his eyes slipping shut again.

  The shield flickered out.

  Asterin swore, releasing Quinlan’s fingers and pushing her palms outward with all her might to defend against the unrelenting arrows. Priscilla pummeled her shield without mercy, and Asterin could only manage to throw up small shells of magic to deflect the worst of the storm.

  Her only remaining hope was Luna, crouched at Asterin’s side with her eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

  “Luna,” Asterin gasped. “If you’ve got anything planned—”

  “Give me a moment.”

  Asterin missed an arrow. It landed dangerously close to Quinlan’s unmoving form. Then she missed a second, a third. Her arms might as well have been made of lead. Every muscle burned.

  Her legs gave out and she crashed to the ground. With a grunt, she deflected three arrows aimed for her chest, but a fourth skimmed her face.

  Pain exploded from her cheek, an acidic burn eating through her flesh. Her vision blotted. How did Quinlan endure this agony for so long?

  Another arrow glanced off the surface of Asterin’s shield and ricocheted upward. With a last, feeble crackle, the shield faded.

  Asterin had nothing left to give. She closed her eyes, wondering if her death would be swift, but realized Priscilla would never let her go that easily. She understood what Quinlan had meant back in the forest—that it was never a mercy to be at another’s mercy. It only means you will suffer longer.

  But death did not come.

  Instead, Asterin heard a sob. When she opened her eyes, tears cascaded down Priscilla’s face, her lips moving in a silent, futile plea.

  Asterin turned, trembling from exhaustion.