Shadow Frost (Shadow Frost Trilogy Book 1)

by Coco Ma

  Luna remained silent.

  “Do you have any idea how difficult making that decision was for me?” Asterin exclaimed, overwhelmed by the tumult of emotions. “To hold the lives of the people that I love most of all in this damn world in my hands and be forced to choose between them?”

  “No, I don’t, but—”

  “Well, what do you want me to tell you, Luna?” Asterin erupted. The tray tilted and the cups slid off, shattering on the floor, spilling tea onto her boots and soaking the rug. “What would you like me to say? That I regret protecting him? Because I don’t! I will never regret saving him.” She clenched her eyes shut. She wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on that feeling of absolute helplessness.

  That was a dark, bottomless hole, and she refused to fall in.

  Asterin took a breath, forcing herself to meet Luna’s eyes. “I will always regret not being powerful enough to protect both of you—”

  “Orion,” Luna interrupted. His name sent another wave of fresh grief rolling over Asterin. “I have to—I have to know, Asterin. Tell me—if it had been between me and Orion, who would you have chosen?”

  Asterin stopped short, stunned.

  The silence that followed was the most agonizing she had ever experienced, because they both knew that she was stalling.

  “I—” She swallowed, averting her gaze. “Luna …”

  And that was answer enough.

  Luna’s mask cracked for the briefest second, revealing the despair beneath. Asterin felt as though her heart had been cleaved in half.

  “I understand,” Luna said.

  “How can you do this to me?” Asterin demanded, hurt. “You know I love you!” She scrabbled for words, voice rising in desperation. “If—if it had been between me and Eadric, who would you have chosen?”

  “Always you, Asterin,” Luna responded without the slightest of hesitations. Her voice broke on her next words, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. “I will always choose you.”

  “She took my family,” Asterin whispered hoarsely. “She killed my parents.”

  “And she took me from my family, too,” Luna said. “Somehow. I don’t even remember how, but I’m going to find them, wherever they are.”

  Asterin stared at her. “What?”

  “I had a brother and a sister and a mother that I couldn’t call mine, but they still called me their own.”

  “You mentioned names during the battle,” said Asterin, racking her brain. “Maman and Nathan … and …”

  Luna looked away. “Clara.”

  “Do you miss them? Since—since you remembered?”

  “Every second,” she murmured.

  “Please, Luna,” said Asterin. What am I going to do without you? “Stay. Please stay. I’ll have a hundred galleries display your beautiful sculptures—”

  “Asterin,” Luna hissed, her demeanor changing so suddenly that Asterin flinched. “It’s not about the damned gallery. I am going to Ibresis, whether you allow it or not. But I hoped that my departure wouldn’t ruin what is left of … us. Obviously, I was wrong.” Luna shook her head. “Wrong about so many things. I need some time away from … here. From Axaria.”

  “You need some time away from me,” Asterin translated.

  “Yes, Immortals help me. Yes, I do. I have my things packed already.” Luna turned and walked to the door, hand resting on the knob. “You made your choice, and now I’m making mine.”

  “You’re leaving … forever?” Asterin croaked.

  There was a lengthy pause. “No,” Luna sighed at last. “I don’t think so.”

  “Write to me,” Asterin begged. “Write to me when you’re ready to come home.”

  “Home,” her best friend whispered, opening the door. “I don’t even know what that means anymore.” She snapped the door shut, rattling the ink bottles on Asterin’s desk.

  And as Asterin slid to the floor, alone in the silence, her family falling to pieces right before eyes, everything in her life on the verge of collapse like a glass tower she had not known was quite so fragile, she wished—not for the first time—that Priscilla’s shadow arrow had been aimed for her heart instead.

  Just days after Luna departed, Asterin found herself standing with Rose and Harry on the outskirts of the Wall.

  “Thank you for everything, Asterin,” Rose said, the late evening breeze ruffling the locks of auburn that managed to escape the hood of her cloak.

  Jack and Laurel emerged from the gardens beyond the gate, levitating Quinlan—bundled to a flat wooden plank—between them.

  Rose turned to Harry. “Again, I cannot express in words how grateful I am that Quinlan no longer needs to risk a long trip across the ocean. Without you … the journey would have taken ages.”

  Harry tipped his head. “It is my honor.”

  “The first thing I will do when he awakens,” Rose told Asterin, “is yell at him. The second will be to write a letter to you.” The Eradorian shot her a wry smile. “The yelling may take a while.”

  The thundering of hooves announced Eadric’s arrival. He pulled up beside the gate and swung out of the saddle, leaving Grey to paw and huff at the road.

  Captain Covington had seen better days. Exhaustion lined his features, and it looked as if he hadn’t run a comb through his hair—or even slept, for that matter—since Luna had left. He had volunteered to carry out Garringsford’s responsibilities and obligations as temporary General of Axaria until a worthy replacement was found, and on top of that, he had demanded to personally oversee background rechecks for every guard in the palace, plus recruit new guards to replace the ones they had lost in the battle.

  “Leaving so soon?” asked Eadric.

  “Yes, but I’m glad you caught us, Captain,” said Rose.

  He bowed his head. “As am I, Your Majesty.”

  Rose raised an eyebrow. “Why, Captain, I thought we were well past those sorts of formalities.”

  That drew a chuckle out of him. “You’re the one calling me captain.”

  “Well, I’m the Queen of Eradore,” she shot back, though there was no fire behind her words. “I can do whatever I please.”

  Eadric sighed, but his mouth twitched into a tired smile. “Undoubtedly, Your Majesty.” He coughed. “I mean … Rose.” At her smile, he seemed to summon up the courage to ask, “That fellow with the knives who fought beside you during the ball … was that Kane?”

  Rose’s mouth thinned, but she nodded. “He disappeared as soon as I left the ballroom to find all of you. Only the Immortals know what he’s up to now. He mentioned something about a neighboring kingdom, though, so you probably don’t have to worry about him.”

  Grey whinnied and Eadric shifted. “Well, I’m afraid that I must be off.” To Rose, he said, “I pray for your safe journey and Quinlan’s restoration to full health.” He gave them all a final brisk nod before striding toward Grey, posture as stiff and rigid as a wind-up toy.

  “Eadric,” Rose called at the last moment, just as he mounted Grey and wheeled him around.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Visit us soon.”

  He looked taken aback. “Should you wish it—”

  “I do.”

  Eadric’s hands tightened on the reins, his gaze glinting onyx in the moonlight. “I will, Rose.”

  They watched him round a corner and disappear behind the hedges.

  When all was silent once more, Rose spoke. “He’s not so good with goodbyes, is he?”

  Asterin held her arms open, and Rose fell gracelessly into her embrace. “Well, this isn’t goodbye,” she murmured into Rose’s hair.

  Rose chuckled softly. “From one queen to another, a million thanks.”

  “A million thanks,” Asterin echoed, and they parted. To Harry, she anxiously asked, “Will you be okay going back and forth so
many times?” He could only transport one extra person per shadow jump.

  “I devoured enough food to feed the entire royal court,” reassured Harry. “And thanks to your fancy palace pillows, I’m more rested than I’ve been in weeks.”

  Asterin sighed. “Safe travels, then.”

  The anygné held out a hand for Rose to take, the air charged with the sheer weight of his power. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” said Rose and placed her hand in his.

  They vanished.

  When Harry returned for Quinlan a few minutes later, he gave Asterin an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Asterin, I’m going to—” He squeaked in alarm as Asterin threw her arms around his neck. They stayed like that until Harry exhaled, rubbing her back. “I’ll find him. I promise.”

  “I’m counting on you, Harry,” Asterin whispered fiercely. “I need him back.”

  “So do I,” he said with such emotion that she drew back in surprise. Harry blinked, and then blushed bright pink. “I mean—”

  “Oh,” Asterin said. “Oh.” How could she be so stupid? All those times … She hadn’t even noticed. “So … you …”

  “Well, yes.” Harry reddened further. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  It took her a moment for his meaning to sink in. “What? Of course not.”

  His smile lit up his entire face. “Thank you, Asterin.”

  She bit her lip, turning to where Quinlan lay on the plank. She swept back a few strands of dark hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss to his brow, blinking away the sudden prickle of tears, and stepped back. “I’ve lost half of my family,” she whispered. She took a breath, letting it cool the heat in her veins. Beyond the gate in the Wall, she could just glimpse the districts of Axaris glittering and twinkling away below, as they always did. When the stars emerged from behind a stubborn mist, it seemed as though the night sky itself reflected the city.

  “You can’t think like that,” Harry said. “Or you’re just letting Priscilla win. The things I’ve done for King Eoin … I can’t let him win, either.”

  “If all goes well, maybe I’ll get to meet him.”

  A crooked little grin played on Harry’s face. “Pray that you don’t ever find yourself within ten leagues of the Ruler of Darkness, Your Majesty.”

  “If it means that Orion has been found, I will dream of nothing else.”

  Harry hefted Quinlan higher onto his back. “Very well. I shall see you soon.”

  Asterin forced herself to look away from Quinlan’s face. “May the Immortals protect you, Harry … wherever you must go.”

  The anygné smiled. “Have spirit, Asterin Faelenhart, and till ’morrow.”

  Asterin stood alone beneath the Wall long after Harry and Quinlan had faded into evanescence. The voices of Jack and Laurel floated to her, the two Elites sprawled in the grass by the guardhouse and pointing at the stars. She stared out into the night, the magic of the wards beyond the Wall humming like a lullaby in her bones, and the light of Axaris burning like a promise in her heart.

  “Till ’morrow,” she whispered.

  EPILOGUE

  Acool night breeze kissed Asterin’s bare skin, causing her to shiver and roll onto her side. Drawing the covers to her chin, she dozed for a moment longer before her breath caught and her eyes flew open.

  She always locked her windows shut when she slept.

  Slowly, cautiously, she craned her neck to survey the dim, moonlit room, eyes trailing up the hulking shadow over her bed to meet a luminescent green stare. The covers slid from her grasp as she sat up, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears. “Lord Conrye.”

  The wolf’s ears twitched as he continued staring, front paws perched on the foot of her mattress.

  “Aren’t you forbidden from being here?” she asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Why now, instead of during the battle?”

  The Council of Immortals would not allow me to … interfere with trivial mortal matters.

  Asterin’s eyes widened. The god’s voice swept through her head like soft thunder, but she could still hear the disdain dripping from his words.

  Asterin bristled. “Trivial? The meddling of dark magic by the leader of a kingdom and the near deaths of not one, but four heirs is considered trivial?”

  Their words, not mine, Conrye rumbled, lips curling back in a snarl. I was overruled.

  “Well, you’re too late,” said Asterin. “My Guardian is gone. The battle is over. So why are you here now?”

  Because you have already made your choices. I cannot influence the path you now walk.

  Her fists clenched. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest choice to direct her anger at an ancient god, but she couldn’t help it. He could have helped her. Helped all of them. He could have stopped Orion from going into the portal. Killed Priscilla himself, like he had the wyvern, so Harry wouldn’t have had to open that portal in the first place.

  Conrye regarded her, appearing unsurprised at her hostility. There is something you must do, Asterin. This is the only thing I may offer you. After Priscilla seized control of the throne, she imprisoned dozens of people she believed posed a threat to her—liabilities. People who she could not sway, could not fool with her illusions.

  “Yes, thank you for the reminder that I was one of those fools,” muttered Asterin, collapsing back against her pillows.

  That was not my point. She kept one of those people in the holding cells below the palace.

  Asterin sat back up, stunned. “Cells? You mean—you mean we have a dungeon?” There were jailhouses, of course, in Axaria, but below the palace itself …

  Indeed. They are spelled to provide enough necessities to keep their inmates alive for as long as necessary. You must go down there.

  Her pulse quickened. “What’s in there?”

  Not so much what, but who, Conrye corrected. Take the servants’ passage in the west wing, and locate a storage room marked with an X on the door. Find a brick, smoother than the rest, and pull it to the left. Twist the knob of the door without a knocker twice and enter. Follow the stairs as far down as you can.

  Asterin wasn’t sure she wanted to know what—or rather who was down there, but she took careful note of Conrye’s instructions nonetheless.

  Come forward, Princess Asterin.

  She hesitated only a moment before scooting toward him, the hairs on her arms prickling from the sudden chill.

  He bowed his head. Around my neck.

  She threaded her fingers into the tufts of his silky fur and paused. Beneath her palms thrummed his pulse, fluttering—almost like the wings of a bird, almost like the omnistone, yet heavier—much heavier. The immortal heartbeat of a god. Swallowing, she found a leather cord around his neck and pulled it over his head. From it dangled a heavy, tarnished key, ancient runes etched into its surface.

  “What’s this for?”

  You will know when the time comes.

  Asterin raised it over her own head, feeling its warm weight settle between the hollow of her breasts. She shut her eyes and felt the sharp bite of winter wind ruffle her hair.

  When her eyes opened, the window had closed and the wolf was gone.

  Asterin found the stairwell easily enough. Navigating in the dark had long since become second nature to her after spending so many hours with Orion exploring the hidden passageways of the palace as children.

  Eadric followed at her heels, peering into every corner. After telling him everything—from Conrye’s visit to his claim of a dungeon deep beneath the palace—he had demanded to accompany her, and she’d been secretly relieved. She had no idea what to expect down there, and she was thankful for the solid presence beside her.

  Asterin lit their way down the stairs with a glowing orb of magic, taking care to test each rickety step, a faint, unnameable stench reaching them from below.

  At l
ast, after what seemed like hours, they reached the bottom.

  Asterin levitated her orb higher, its glow shuddering along the length of the walls around them as she came to a standstill, arm trembling.

  Behind her, Eadric swore softly.

  A long corridor of prison cells stretched out before them, plunging deep into an endless gloom so thick that her light could scarcely penetrate it.

  They crept along the aisle, peering into each murky cell.

  “They’re empty,” Asterin said. She let out a frustrated grunt. “There’s nothing here.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand fell on her shoulder, but it was only Eadric.

  He gestured further on. “I just saw something move.”

  As they approached the final cell, there was a rustle of fabric.

  Asterin stumbled backward, colliding into a startled Eadric. Her light had fallen across a pale, gaunt face, spindly fingers gripping the metal bars.

  It was a woman, with a tangled nest of long, black hair. She stared at Asterin with rich emerald eyes, brighter than the stars themselves.

  Asterin stared back, feeling as though she had been slapped, her mind stuttering as it tried to comprehend the sight.

  Emerald eyes, whose shine had not yet dulled, even in such isolation. Whose resolute expression had never crumbled to one of hopelessness. Who had never surrendered herself to the darkness.

  Asterin knew that face—she had seen it in her dreams. In her flashbacks after the contralusio.

  In the mirror.

  “Almighty Immortals,” Asterin breathed, her hand clapping to her mouth as she staggered closer to the bars.

  “Asterin, get back,” Eadric said, brandishing his affinity stone—but she just shook her head.

  “Asterin?” the woman asked, her voice like gravel after years of disuse. She cleared her throat. “My … my Asterin?”

  “Who are you?” Eadric demanded.

  Asterin’s knees wobbled as she raised her hands to the woman, tears flowing down her face. Both of their faces. The woman she had not seen for over a decade let out a strangled sob of joy and disbelief.