Of Ice and Shadows

by Audrey Coulthurst

  “Lia!” I shouted, but my voice was lost in the din of the crowds as they sent off their queen. I ran out the gates after the final barge as it picked up speed, only to be caught by a man dressed in black, a Nightswift, one of the queen’s elite guards. He hauled me to the sidelines as I thrashed in his grip, depositing me just outside the gates of the Winter Court. Traffic had already swept the barges away, and there was no way I could catch them on foot. The wind blew in short gusts, biting my cheeks, and I pulled up the hood of my cloak so no one could see the hot tears as they began to fall.

  How could she leave me without even saying good-bye? Every choice I’d made since she’d rescued me from Kriantz had been for her. Her happiness and safety were all I wanted, and she’d barely heard me out before deciding we were better off apart. I walked slowly back to my room, half convinced by the time I got there that her letter had been a mistake, that I would find her waiting for me, ready to kiss my tears away. But when I returned to the room, it was as empty as I’d left it.

  The unfairness of her choice hit me twice as hard with the full magnitude of my aloneness upon me. She could have talked to me, given me a chance to apologize for the previous night, to explain to her that my need for her outweighed everything else. Alek could have tried harder to find her an apprenticeship—he’d only asked a few people. How was that enough? Instead she’d accepted the offer of a bloodthirsty monarch I didn’t trust at all, cut off all communication, and put most of a kingdom between us. She’d left me alone with a diplomatic mission that was doomed to failure without her wisdom to help me.

  I paced my room the rest of the morning with no idea what to do with myself, eventually tugging on a cloak and heading to the stables to see Flicker. I would have given anything to talk to Denna one last time—to try to talk her out of this senseless plan, to explain again how much I needed her, to tell her that I trusted and loved her. The burn on my side was temporary. I wanted her to be permanent, and for the first time since leaving Mynaria, I was faced with wondering if she actually wanted the same thing. She was about to be surrounded by people with gifts like hers, people with powers and abilities I couldn’t even fathom. How could I ever compete with that? I no longer knew what she’d even seen in me that had drawn her to me in the first place. All I knew how to do was work with horses. I had no magic, no diplomatic skills, no friends, and almost no family. Perhaps my father was right that I’d always been a disgrace, and Denna was finally seeing that, too.

  The icy air cut through me like a sword as I walked to the stables. The bare branches of the trees lining the footpaths clacked against each other like closing teeth. Heavy clouds had swallowed the top of Mount Prakov to the east, making it seem like the sky was far too close to the earth. Unlike the orderly gardens of the palace where I was raised, the interconnected areas here flowed, like water, from one into the next. I had to trudge uphill and down through a maze I hadn’t yet figured out just to get to the stables, and if there was a better way, I didn’t know it.

  Unfortunately, my hopes of seeking refuge at the barn were dashed before I even got out of the gardens. As I passed through one of the stone arches between gardens, Fadeyka popped out from behind a bush.

  I spooked like a green horse. “Six Hells. Don’t jump out at people like that.”

  “Alek says it’s useful to practice stealth,” she said.

  “Sard Alek,” I muttered under my breath. It was partly his fault that Denna had left me.

  “You look terrible. Are you going to the barn?”

  “I was thinking about it,” I said.

  “Everyone is talking about how you almost got killed at that party the other night,” Fadeyka said.

  “I’m shocked,” I said, my tone flat. It figured that even Fadeyka had heard. Shame reddened my cheeks. How was I supposed to make allies at the Winter Court after a scene like that? I hadn’t been prepared for everything my brother was trusting me with, and I didn’t know what to do about it. Now, without Denna, I would be even more lost.

  “At least Ikrie’s gone now with the other trainees,” Fadeyka said.

  “Delightful,” I said. Images flashed through my mind of Ikrie attacking Denna, suffocating her to death like she’d nearly done to me. Then I remembered how pretty Ikrie had been with her perfectly coiffed brown hair and big blue eyes, and the way that yellow dress had hugged her slender curves. Worse than the thought of Ikrie hurting Denna was the thought of the two of them together—of Denna falling for someone who could give her all the things I couldn’t.

  “Want a lemon drop?” Fadeyka offered me a candy that seemed to have picked up some lint from the inside of her cloak along the way.

  “No thanks,” I said, and kept walking.

  Fadeyka skipped alongside me, crunching on her candy. “Are you going to ride today?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Is Flicker inside or outside?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I watch you saddle him?”

  “Do you always have so many questions?” I asked, exasperated.

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice resolute. “It’s how I know so much.”

  I sighed.

  We entered the stables, and I let myself into Flicker’s stall, pleased to see that he’d been groomed and rugged. Thankfully Fadeyka had the common sense to stay outside. Flicker’s ears pricked, but he didn’t move as I walked over and leaned against his shoulder. His warmth quickly traveled through my cloak and back into my bones where I needed it. I breathed deeply, feeling the knots of tension in me slowly unwind.

  “Are you going to ride?” Fadeyka asked again.

  I sighed. “I think I’m just going to clean stalls today.” Ambassadors of the Mynarian crown probably weren’t supposed to clean stalls, but it was where I used to do my best thinking back home. Besides, I felt about as good as what I’d be tossing into the wheelbarrow. “It’s too gods-damned cold to ride anyway.”

  “Not that cold. It hasn’t even snowed yet,” Fadeyka said.

  I shivered at the thought. “I am definitely not riding in the snow.”

  “There’s an indoor arena,” she pointed out. “Usually we’d already have had half a dozen snows by now. The drought’s just been bad this year.”

  “Ugh.” I grabbed a manure fork from the wall and pushed a wheelbarrow over to Flicker’s stall.

  “If I help clean stalls, can I ask more questions about horses?” Fadeyka asked hopefully.

  “Why not?” I said, resigned. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. As we scooped stalls, she peppered me with detailed questions: what grains the horses ate, how old they had to be for weaning, how to tell different kinds of hay apart or what regions those grasses grew in back in Mynaria. Then she rattled off all the current trade rates for agricultural-related commodities, after I made the mistake of asking how much the winter hay supply cost here. I had a headache before we were halfway done.

  “What kind of sword drills can you do on horseback?” she asked. We’d already discussed jousting and mounted archery, but the questions had not stopped.

  “Don’t know,” I said. “They never let me learn.”

  Fadeyka slung a forkful of manure with extra force, nearly missing the wheelbarrow. “What? Why not?” The idea seemed to deeply offend her.

  “‘A princess doesn’t need a sword,’” I said, quoting my father.

  Fadeyka snorted. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I always thought so, too,” I said. Swordsmanship had always been a sore point for me—one of the things my brother was allowed to learn and I wasn’t. I got embroidery lessons. Or at least they’d tried to give me embroidery lessons; I’d sneaked off to the barn instead.

  “So why don’t you learn now?” She asked the question with such guileless curiosity that it took me off guard.

  I’d been so used to my father telling me what to do and ignoring him to forge my own path that I’d forgotten about the things I could
do for reasons other than rebellion.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “That’s a silly reason.”

  I hated to admit it, but I was inclined to agree with her. And as I thought it over, I realized the answer to how to find out more about what Alek was up to and keep an eye on him for Laurenna was right in front of me.

  “You’re right. I should learn to use a sword,” I said, though secretly, the idea made me a little nervous. If the training here was anything like what my brother had received, it started early. I’d be more than ten years late to learning, and I doubted the clumsy practice I’d done on my own after watching my brother was going to be much of a foundation. But there were other reasons to do it even beyond digging up potential links between Alek and the Sonnenbornes. While I wasn’t privy yet to the details of what Laurenna or Zhari were doing about the Sonnenbornes, their soldiers would have thoughts and opinions—and be more forthcoming with them. Fighters tended to be less interested in politics and more interested in solutions, which was a perspective I could appreciate. Plus, it would be a diplomatic gesture to show I cared enough to learn a skill that was a bigger part of life here than in my homeland.

  “I was going to the salle before dinner anyway, if you want to come,” Fadeyka said.

  “All right,” I agreed.

  Fadeyka bounced on her toes in excitement.

  After bidding Flicker and the other horses good-bye, we walked back toward the tower, Fadeyka’s litany of questions continuing the entire way.

  “How old is Flicker?” Fadeyka asked.

  “Five,” I said.

  “Have you had him his whole life?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Where did you buy him?”

  I sighed. “I bribed the royal stablemaster to give him to me.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

  “Really?” This seemed to impress her. “Who else have you bribed?”

  The questioning continued like that all the way to the salle, interspersed with declarations of her opinions—that the high-collared dresses coming into fashion were terribly itchy, that the castle cook’s assistant wasn’t bad-looking when he bothered to wipe the soot off his face, that she could draw the seal of the Winter Court perfectly, even with her eyes closed, that the best route to the salle or the stables when the snow got deep was through the servants’ tunnel at the back of the kitchen, and that Queen Invasya was pretty for an old lady, but terrifying.

  It figured that the only person interested in befriending me here was a precocious thirteen-year-old who asked too many questions. Still, I’d warmed to Fadeyka. She was rather like a cross between me and Denna—my interest in horses and fighting and Denna’s absurd intellectualism all rolled into one person—and she was a desperately needed distraction during a time when I knew I couldn’t face the reality of my life.

  She led me past the merchants’ hall and another building that looked more like soldiers’ barracks, and then through a door into a long room that functioned more like a hallway. Foot traffic split to walk around a fountain that served as a median through the length of the room. The brilliant shades of green used to decorate the walls gave the illusion of springtime in spite of winter looming.

  At the end of the hall, we pushed through a heavy door of transparent material. The room inside had a worn wooden floor, heavily scarred by warriors’ boots and dropped blades. Fadeyka immediately dashed off to the trunks lining the wall and was donning a light set of practice leathers and snatching a short blade off the wall before I had a chance to take it all in. Now that I stood in the salle, I had to work hard not to second-guess my confident decision at the barn. These people all seemed skilled, and some, like Fadeyka, had been training since they were barely able to walk. The last thing I needed was something else to prove I was terrible at. I felt bad enough about myself already.

  Several pairs of people sparred with various shapes and sizes of practice blades. In a far corner, Eronit and Varian went through an intricate series of exercises with staves. Across the room, Alek was putting a pair of trainees through some particularly challenging drills. He was relentless, making them repeat the exercise over and over until their muscles trembled but every step was just as he instructed. I skirted the edges of the room, but before I could take a seat on one of the benches along the far wall, Fadeyka had pulled a light sword off the wall and was offering it to me.

  “Alek’s the best coach, and he’s about to finish with those two,” Fadeyka said. “You’d better hurry up if you want your chance with him.”

  “Who said anything about training with him?” I asked. Watching him was one thing. Getting thrown on my arse by him was entirely another.

  “You want to get good fast, don’t you?” Fadeyka gestured with her free hand. “Don’t pass up the chance.”

  I hated to admit it, but the kid was right, and I did actually want to learn. Maybe if I did well, Alek would stop looking at me like I was as useful as a sweat-soaked saddle blanket. I steeled myself. There had been a time when I didn’t know how to shoot a bow, climb over the castle wall, or search for information at the pubs. This was just another new thing to learn.

  I reached out and took the sword.

  “Like this,” Fadeyka said, correcting my grip. “But let’s make sure you have just the right one.”

  Fadeyka helped fit me with practice leathers, then showed me several weights of swords, giving me a chance to heft each one and feel the difference in balance. I expected laughter or disdainful looks for letting someone Fadeyka’s age tell me what to do, but no one paid any attention. Some of the swords were so heavy I could barely lift them, and others felt off to one side or the other. In the end, I wound up with the first one she’d handed me, and she smiled knowingly.

  Once I was appropriately dressed, I waited until Alek was finished with the first set of trainees and then approached him.

  “Winter Court costume party tonight?” he asked.

  I stood up straighter. “I’m here to learn,” I said, ignoring his jab.

  He looked at Fadeyka and back to me.

  “All right, then. But we do this my way.” Soon he had me out on the practice floor, and I forgot everything that had preoccupied my mind before that. The agony of Denna’s loss faded into a dull ache that was almost tolerable. The drills were simple, but hard to execute well, and gave me enough to focus on that I barely stopped to think other than of my next step or move. I didn’t even care when Alek barked at us both about our form—not when the adjustments he suggested made my strikes feel twice as strong. Any worries I had about hurting Fadeyka were banished immediately. She had twice my speed and many more times my skill.

  When Alek finally called us to a halt, I was sweating and exhausted.

  “Not too bad for your first time out,” Fadeyka said.

  I eyed her balefully. “I’m going to feel this in at least ten unmentionable places tomorrow.”

  “It’s a start,” Alek said, then turned to Fadeyka. “Do you want to try the evasive move we practiced the other day?”

  Her whole face lit up.

  “Only a few times,” he said.

  I stepped out of the way as they took their positions across from each other. Alek came at her with a straightforward thrust of his blade, but instead of parrying the way I’d been learning to, Fadeyka managed to bend herself out of the way in an unnatural motion. Then fog gathered in a wall to obscure her from Alek. Other fighters stopped to watch.

  “You have to be faster,” Alek said. “Use the fog first, so that your opponent can’t see where you move.”

  “It’s hard to think when there’s a sword coming at me,” Fadeyka complained.

  “If you practice enough, you won’t have to think,” Alek said.

  The fog dissipated and Fadeyka got back into her guard position. They repeated the exercise, but this time she pulled the fog in more quickly, vanishing into it as she dodged. It would have been the perfect escape, except that she suddenly appeared on the wrong
side of the fog wall, nearly impaling herself on Alek’s sword.

  I gasped, but when Alek lowered his sword and reached for her, another person who looked identical to Fadeyka had appeared closer to me. Then, suddenly, there were four more, all of them moving erratically and without any clear purpose.

  “Faye!” Alek shouted. He hastily sketched a symbol and the fog dissipated, revealing what had to be the original Fadeyka, who had collapsed to the floor.

  I watched in horror as another duplicate separated itself from her body and staggered away.

  Alek dropped to his knees beside her and shook her shoulder, but she was unresponsive. He muttered something under his breath and gestured as if to gather up the other Fadeykas, but they only flickered. For the first time since I’d known him, I saw something almost like concern wash over his stonelike face.

  Most people backed away, and a few even headed for the doors of the salle. Following them might have been smarter, but I felt rooted in place. It didn’t seem to matter where I went or who I was with. Magic was always all around me, affecting my life in ways I couldn’t predict or make any sense of.

  I took a step closer to Fadeyka, and one of her clones stumbled into me. I flinched, but the mirage passed through me, making my body flash with heat where we touched. Without warning, the doppelgängers swept toward Fadeyka’s body and poured back into her, and she convulsed as each one joined her. When the salle returned to silence and peace, a female fighter was standing over Fadeyka, who sat up, wincing.

  “Is that a trick you know, Shazi?” Alek asked the dark-haired woman.

  “No, but I’ve seen it before,” she said, confusion in her pale blue eyes. “I didn’t think Faye had an air Affinity.”

  “She doesn’t.” Alek stood up, frowning.

  “Did someone curse her?” I asked.

  Alek and Shazi both looked at me like I had the brains of a pitchfork. Fadeyka laughed, which quickly devolved into a coughing fit.