Of Ice and Shadows

by Audrey Coulthurst

  “Are people scared of the grand vizier?” I asked Alek.

  “If they’re smart,” he said.

  I took a fortifying gulp of wine, reminding myself that even out of my element, I technically outranked Zhari. I edged through the fringes of a group surrounding a young brunette noblewoman about my age who seemed to be holding her own small court in the center of the room. She wore a pale yellow dress that glittered with sparkling embroidery and swept low beneath her finely chiseled collarbones. The crowd seemed be actively thickening around her, and as I got closer, I could see why—she seemed to have had several drinks and was in the middle of telling a scandalous story.

  “And then,” the noblewoman said, “his pants fell off and I knew why his manifest was a mouse!”

  The other nobles lost their minds with laughter, while I blinked in confusion.

  “Another drink, Lady Ikrie?” someone shouted over the crowd.

  “Someone get me another glass of the bubbly stuff!” Ikrie waved clumsily at a nearby server, who hurried to her side.

  “Better a mouse than a drunk idiot at a party,” I muttered.

  The noblewoman’s blue eyes locked on me, taking in my livery. Her pretty face twisted into a sneer. “Unless I misheard, you insulted my character and my dignity, Mynarian.”

  She’d done an excellent job of that all on her own, but there was a dangerous edge to her gaze that told me I’d be better off not pointing that out.

  “No, I just have a fondness for mice,” I joked.

  The crowd around us tittered nervously.

  “Perhaps I should challenge you to a duel for insulting me.” Ikrie flicked her fingers, and a gust of air thumped me in the chest, sending me stumbling backward. “It’ll be good practice for when I take on the queen’s other trainees at the Midwinter Revel.”

  A jolt of fear went through me. Apparently I’d accidentally insulted one of the magic users the queen had selected for her elite training program, and a noble one to boot. Would she really expect us to fight? I looked to Alek for guidance, but his unreadable scowl gave me none.

  “But she doesn’t have an Affinity, my lady,” one of the other nobles said. “You can’t duel someone who is vakos.”

  “I heard she’s the Mynarian ambassador,” someone else added.

  Ikrie laughed. “If a vakos blunderer is the best Mynaria can do for an ambassador, perhaps we should do them the kindness of absorbing them into our empire.”

  “My people will defend our kingdom with our last breaths,” I snapped.

  “And my people will be happy to steal those breaths from you,” the woman said. She raised a hand, and air rushed out of my lungs. I dropped my wine mug, which shattered on the floor, and clawed at my throat. Stars swam in front of my vision and darkness started to close in, and that was when she finally released the magic.

  I fell to my knees, inhaling deep breaths.

  “Perhaps think twice before insulting your betters,” Ikrie said, turning on her heel and leaving me on the floor. Servants converged on the empty area to clean up the wine and shards of mug littering the tile. My cheeks burned with shame as the other nobles quickly dispersed. No one wanted to be seen consorting with the person who had just been publicly humiliated. Alek offered me a hand, and I grudgingly let him pull me back to my feet. Dark wine stains mottled the knees of my breeches.

  “Most air users have a knack for Farhearing,” he said.

  That explained how she’d heard me over the din of the crowd. “How am I supposed to know what kind of magic someone has?” I asked. Fear was quickly taking over from my embarrassment. I couldn’t know what kind of gifts the people around me might have or what risks they might pose. Anyone in the room could kill me with a flick of their fingers, and that was a terrifying thought. Not even my rank provided any protection—it was meaningless here.

  Alek shrugged. “Pay attention.”

  “Well, that was an interesting way to introduce yourself to court,” a low female voice said beside me.

  I turned, finding myself face-to-face with Grand Vizier Zhari. Her golden robes gave her the air of a religious official rather than a high-ranking courtier. Perhaps in Zumorda that was almost the same thing, since Zumordans didn’t worship the gods. Age was evident in the lines on her face, but her gaze was as bright and clear as the gems glittering in the spiral at the top of her staff.

  “My sword is your sword,” I said haltingly, still trying to catch my breath.

  “If what I know of Mynarian royal women is true, you have no sword to offer.” She favored me with a small smile, but it was more kind than mocking.

  I mentally cursed my father for never letting me train. It wasn’t as though I’d never asked, especially after my mother died and I needed some way to fill the hours that had previously been spent making music.

  “Regardless, I look forward to working together for the betterment of both our kingdoms,” I said, hoping I sounded like the diplomat I was supposed to be.

  “In which case I find it interesting that you were talking to our Sonnenborne visitors,” Zhari said, her amber eyes curious. They seemed out of place in her lined face, too clear and catlike to fit the rest of her. “There isn’t much love lost between your kingdoms as of late.”

  “I can only speak for my kingdom,” I said, treading carefully. “I’m here in Zumorda hoping to help, not to bring trouble. When Duvey was attacked, we took the side of the keep to help push back the enemy.”

  “Perhaps the real question is why Duvey was attacked in the first place,” Zhari said, looking at Alek. “Alek, your training gave you the skills to consider that, even if you turned your back on it.”

  I shot Alek a puzzled look. What training was she referring to?

  “Can’t say I know,” Alek said, his tone cold enough to freeze every drink in the room.

  “Then delight me with your theories,” Zhari said, shifting her weight and setting the bells hanging from the spiraling top of her staff jangling like wind chimes. The soothing calm she projected made for a dramatic contrast with Alek, who set his water glass on the tray of a passing servant hard enough to rattle the poor girl’s teeth.

  “I suppose it looks like Mynaria killed a Sonnenborne ambassador, and the Sonnenbornes decided to take border cities in retaliation,” he said. “Duvey is close enough to the Mynarian border to be a logical outpost to station fighters for that purpose.”

  “There’s no evidence of that!” I sputtered. It hadn’t occurred to me that the Zumordans might not see the battle at Duvey for exactly what it was—an attack on one of their own cities, not retaliation for something that was my kingdom’s fault. Worse, the fact that a Mynarian border city actually had been taken only served to support Alek’s theory.

  “We will need to investigate to find out what the facts are,” Zhari said.

  “You’re right, we do need to investigate,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt.

  “And so we shall. I look forward to speaking with you more tomorrow,” Zhari said. “Enjoy your evening.” She walked away slowly, chimes jingling.

  “Why did you throw me under the carriage wheels like that?” I asked Alek, my frustration boiling over.

  “I didn’t do anything.” He stared down at me, impassive as ever.

  “You basically blamed Mynaria for what happened in Duvey. You have no reason to believe that.”

  “I didn’t blame Mynaria. I said that was what it looked like.”

  I wanted to scream. “You made it look like the attack was my kingdom’s fault.”

  “I was answering her question,” he said, unmoved.

  “I’m leaving.” I turned around with my head held high. There was nothing to be gained by staying. Alek could stay or come with me—I didn’t care. Disgusted expressions followed me all the way to the door. In spite of carrying myself with all the pride I could muster, I still felt a tremble starting in my lip as soon as I crossed the threshold out of the room. Back home, I had sometimes felt powe
rless, but I’d never felt weak. At the Winter Court, it had taken me less than a day to set myself up as completely ineffectual and, worse, an embarrassment. I’d barely gotten any information from the Sonnenbornes, one of the queen’s hand-selected magic users had nearly suffocated me, Zhari had appeared just in time to witness my humiliation, and Alek had made me look like a fool. Denna was counting on me, as was my kingdom.

  Tonight, I’d let everyone down.

  EIGHT

  Dennaleia

  I LAY DOWN TO TRY TO REST AFTER MARE DEPARTED to meet Alek for the party, but in spite of my exhaustion, attempting to nap was futile. My head pounded ceaselessly thanks to the peaceroot, to the point where I put off taking the dose that usually accompanied my evening meal. I needed to be doing something, not lying around in a room waiting for Mare to return from the party, which was how I ended up in the hot laundry room a few buildings away from the merchants’ hall, scrubbing our travel-stained clothing.

  I kept my head down and my ears open, hoping to catch some useful court gossip along with the basic techniques of washing clothes. After several inept attempts and some confusion about which herbs and soaps to use, an older woman took pity and showed me the correct techniques, clucking all the while about young people and their incompetence. My cheeks burned. I hated feeling unknowledgeable and hoped I hadn’t given away that I’d never done laundry a day in my life.

  The din of the laundry room was overwhelming, and what few snippets of conversation I caught were mostly complaints about all the work caused by the additional visitors to court due to the queen’s presence. There wasn’t much I expected to be of use to Mare in her diplomatic efforts, and by the time I left, exhausted, with our damp clothes in tow, I felt more defeated than ever. I didn’t regret using my magic to save Mare’s life, but I hated how small my life had become as a result. I’d never realized how much sociopolitical power I had, or how familiar and comforting it had been, until it was gone.

  I hurried into the night and back toward the merchants’ hall. The dry, frigid air made me shiver in spite of my cloak. The sun had barely set, bathing the courtyard in twilight hues of gray and purple. Overhead, the moon shone nearly full in the evening sky. Servants still bustled between the buildings, taking care of the last of the day’s chores, and I merged into the flow of foot traffic to cross the courtyard.

  “Out of the way!” someone yelled.

  A sudden blast of wind hit me as I looked over my shoulder, barely stifling a scream. The wings of a white dragon blocked out the moon as it swooped in to land. I clumsily sprinted for the closest building as the dragon’s wingbeats sent gusts overhead. A wide-eyed page stood already flattened against the wall, and I flipped around alongside her and clutched the laundry bag to my chest with my heart hammering in my ears. In Havemont, dragons were creatures of legend, not reality.

  The magnificent creature folded its wings after landing, arching its neck and surveying the courtyard. Everyone stood perfectly still, prey frozen in the gaze of a predator. The beast paused when it looked at me, its sapphire eyes burning in a way that made my magic stir even through the fog of the peaceroot. My hands prickled with pins and needles as I tried to calm my breathing and resist the urge to run.

  When the dragon finally looked away, I exhaled a rattling breath of relief and turned to the page to ask about proper protocol for this situation, but she’d already slipped away. I glanced back toward the dragon to find it gone as well. The servants were back in motion, and a few birds winged down from the sky and transformed into human form to follow a tall woman wearing a white cloak with the hood pulled up. They were all dressed in black from head to toe, barely visible as more than shadows. The woman in white strode purposefully out of the courtyard, her cloak billowing behind her like a flag.

  I scampered back to the merchants’ hall, more than happy to retreat to the safety of our room and the simple task of finding places to hang our laundry. After that was done, I found myself once again idle, pacing restlessly through the room as I awaited Mare’s return. When I finally saw her approaching across the courtyard, I knew that something had gone wrong. She kept a quick pace, her posture stiff and unnatural. Alek was nowhere to be seen. I hurried to the door and stepped into the hall to wait for her. Her tight expression immediately softened when she got to the top of the stairs and met my eyes. As soon as we entered our room, she put her arms around me and exhaled a long, shaky breath.

  “How did it go?” I asked after she pulled away, afraid I already knew the answer.

  “It was a disaster,” she said, collapsing into the chaise facing the windows. “What a day this has been. I can’t believe how composed you were when you first came to Mynaria, if this is what it feels like to be away from home and tasked with a diplomatic mission for the first time.”

  “What happened?” I sat down beside her.

  “Without killing someone’s kindly old relative, I couldn’t have made a worse impression.” She gave me more details of the evening’s events, leaving me more dismayed by each interaction she’d had.

  “Perhaps things will go better when you meet with Zhari and Laurenna tomorrow,” I said. “Zhari at least sounds interested in the facts.”

  “Only if Alek can resist undermining me every step of the way.” Mare growled with frustration. “I don’t understand why he seems to have it in for me. He wasn’t half as rude to the Sonnenbornes, and he didn’t do a damn thing to help me out of that altercation with the woman who nearly killed me with her magic.”

  “He’s rather inscrutable.” I took a deep breath and then asked the question pressing most urgently on my mind. “But what are you going to do if someone else tries to use magic against you?” Fear hummed in my bones at the thought. She had no way to protect herself.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice grim. “My title isn’t enough to protect me here. Normally I’d just avoid court and anyone who might want to hurt me . . . but that isn’t a choice in my current position.”

  That was what I’d been afraid of. Worse, there wasn’t much I could do to protect her with my magic still out of control. As much as I hated to admit it, she’d probably been right to leave when she did. This was quite a setback from a political standpoint, but I didn’t need to voice that. Mare wasn’t a fool. She knew.

  “You made the right choice to leave early,” I said.

  “I hope so.” She rubbed her temples. “Gods, I miss Cas.”

  “Me too.” I squeezed her arm. Her uncle had possessed a silver tongue and the keenest diplomatic sensibilities of anyone I’d met in Mynaria. He would have been the perfect ambassador, able to read any room, able to forge connections among courtiers and commoners alike. He’d been the first one murdered at Kriantz’s hands.

  “Cas would have already had the Winter Court wrapped around his finger, and a spy network in place to boot.” The pain in her voice made me ache with sympathy. “And I miss Nils,” Mare said more softly. “I hate that sarding snake Kriantz, his people, and everything they stand for.”

  “I know.” I leaned into her, aching with the memory of everything she’d lost.

  “If I didn’t have you . . .” She trailed off.

  “You’ll always have me,” I said, hugging her close until she relaxed in my arms. “Even if I’m doomed to be your laundress.”

  “Is that what you did tonight?” she asked.

  “That, and reorganized the other things we brought. Tried to rest but didn’t have much luck.”

  “I’m sorry you couldn’t be with me instead,” Mare said. “The Six know you would have kept me out of more trouble than Alek managed to.”

  “Perhaps I could have talked Alek into helping me find a mentor here in Kartasha, too,” I said, unable to hide the sadness in my voice. I hated feeling so detached from all the important things that were happening.

  “I’m sorry,” Mare said, standing up and taking my hands. “I’ve been so selfish. We came here to get you magic training and I’ve done nothi
ng about it. What can I do to help?”

  I squeezed her hands in return. “I’m not sure there is much. Perhaps you can ask Laurenna and Zhari about finding me an instructor when you meet with them tomorrow? Or we can determine whether there might be someone available in Corovja if we go there to stay close to the queen?”

  “Of course,” Mare said. “Both cities are among the largest in Zumorda. There will have to be someone willing to take you on. How has your head been?” She gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “The headache hasn’t been too bad tonight,” I said, releasing her hands. I stood up and stepped closer to one of the lights in the room, a luminous ball that sat on a stand atop the vanity. Power radiated from it in a way that made my hands tingle. I touched the ball, and the light shut off. With another touch, it came back on. There were several similar balls throughout the room—some in sconces on the walls and others on stands like this one.

  “Did you notice these mage lights earlier?” I asked. “Things like this amaze me.” I wished I could help her understand how much it meant to be somewhere that magic was all around and how much I wanted my powers back. I could tell the Zumordans’ casual use of magic made her nervous, but seeing magic in everyday objects made me feel like there was somewhere I could belong—a place my gift might be ordinary.

  “Magic truly is everywhere here,” Mare said, looking more unsettled than awed as she sat back down.