“Mynarian,” Alek explained to Shazi, waving his hand disgustedly.
I tensed, but Shazi’s expression softened. “Ah. You’re vakos, then. No, the magic was definitely coming from Faye, but that’s odd. She’s only shown signs of a water Affinity, from what little I know.”
“Magic users can’t use more than one type of magic?” I asked. That didn’t line up with what I’d seen Denna do. Her powers seemed to always have some new form they were taking. It might always start with fire, but it ended with so much more destruction than that.
“Not without a multi-Affinity,” Alek grumbled.
“Zhari would surely know if Faye had a multi-Affinity,” Shazi said to Alek, her eyebrows raised.
“Could be she’s still developing it.” Alek shrugged. “No manifest yet.”
“Is a multi-Affinity . . . bad?” I asked. “And why would Zhari know?”
“It’s rare,” Shazi said. “They tend to be harder to control. Zhari is the only guardian who has one, and she’s mentored most of the apprentices who’ve turned up with them.”
Cold dread wormed its way down my back. Perhaps that was why the queen had such an interest in Denna. My heart squeezed painfully. Now there was no way to know or find out.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Fadeyka mumbled, reaching for my hand. I hoisted her to her feet, letting her hang on until I was sure she wouldn’t keel over.
“Take her to Laurenna,” Alek barked at me, already turning away.
I scowled at his back, knowing full well why he didn’t want to do it. I bit back the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. If nothing else, perhaps it would come off as a favor to Laurenna. I didn’t have to tell her that Alek told me to do it.
“Do you know where your mother is?” I asked Fadeyka.
She nodded. “Merchants’ Guild hearing. I just need to put away my sword.”
I took off my gear and then hovered around her anxiously as she clumsily put away her weapon and practice leathers. She walked much more slowly than usual as we left the salle, without the customary slew of questions that characterized our conversations.
I expected some kind of commotion when we reached the guild meeting, but instead we were told to wait outside on a hard bench. Fadeyka was uncharacteristically quiet, slumping against the wall, exhausted.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Tired,” she said. “And Mother isn’t going to be pleased.”
Fadeyka’s words proved correct, when Laurenna finally emerged from the guild meeting and strode over to her daughter with purpose. Zhari came behind her more slowly, gliding effortlessly over the floor with the help of her long staff.
“What happened?” Laurenna asked, then proceeded to frown as Fadeyka explained what had transpired at the salle. I couldn’t help but admire the girl’s storytelling, particularly her ability to omit Alek from the tale entirely.
“Zhari, what do you make of this?” Laurenna asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Zhari said. “Her gift is still developing.”
“Someone said it could be a multi-Affinity,” I said, catching a glimpse of Fadeyka’s look of relief that I hadn’t mentioned Alek by name.
Laurenna and Zhari both gave me looks of deep scrutiny.
“It’s more common for those to develop after an initial Affinity has settled,” Zhari finally said. “But not impossible.” She turned her amber eyes on Fadeyka.
“Could the charm have caused it?” Laurenna asked Zhari, pitching her voice more softly.
Fadeyka protectively gripped the seven-pointed star hanging around her neck.
“I doubt it,” Zhari said. “That’s not really what it was intended for.”
I glanced back at the charm with a creeping sense of unease, wondering if it was capable of anything on a par with the ring Kriantz had used to kill my father.
“Let’s talk about this more back at my quarters,” Laurenna said to Zhari, putting her hand on Fadeyka’s forehead. “Thank you for bringing my daughter to me,” she added to me in polite dismissal.
“It was no trouble,” I said. “Please let me know if I can do anything else to help.”
I bade them farewell and walked back to the merchants’ hall, my legs feeling more leaden with every step. I barely had the energy to slip through the door of my room. As I rinsed off the dirt and grime of the day, I pondered what to do next. I still had my brother’s offer of cavalry on the table, but I needed to save it for the right moment. Getting some information of value to Laurenna took priority for now, as it seemed like that was the best way to win her over and invest her in my concerns.
I also wanted her and Zhari to grow more comfortable around me, so that conversations about Fadeyka’s magic or anything else wouldn’t have to happen behind closed doors. Even if I couldn’t use or sense magic, I still needed to know what to watch out for if I expected to survive in Zumorda. In the meantime, now that I’d been to the salle, I knew it could be a place for me to make apolitical connections that would help me much more than ineptly trying to curry favor with nobles at the Winter Court. If I wanted to know more about Alek’s history with the Sonnenbornes, other soldiers were the place to start. They’d have stories, and if they were anything like the liegemen in Mynaria, a few drinks would be more than enough to get them talking. Perhaps I was doomed to be a disaster at court, especially without Denna’s help, but I had no shortage of confidence in my ability to keep up with the drinking habits of fighters.
Not for the first time in my life, I was going to have to play spy.
FOURTEEN
Dennaleia
A JOURNEY THAT SHOULD HAVE TAKEN WEEKS PASSED in only a matter of days, our caravan never slowing its impossibly fast pace. Evidence of the drought quickly faded as we continued north. I lost myself in books and distanced myself from Evie and Tristan’s conversations, which wasn’t difficult, as they seemed more interested in talking to each other than to me. I hoped to talk to the queen about the boy from Duvey who had been in Tilium, but she didn’t summon me for a private session again. Instead, the other trainees were called to her one by one, always standing a little straighter when they returned, always with a little more fight and fire in their eyes.
We made a few other stops, but there were no further scenes like what we’d experienced in Tilium. The queen dealt quieter justice to those who deserved it and delivered gifts to the towns that had tithed well. The trainees were rarely asked to help, but we were always invited to bear witness—invitations that were clearly orders. For a town nestled in a valley where the rain seemed ceaseless, the queen provided a magical sconce enchanted to contain a flame that could never be extinguished. In a small mountain village, she had Karina use her wind magic to clear sheep pastures that were already thigh-deep in snow. I’d had to back away as Karina pulled the wind from the sky, feeling prickles in my own arms. In Orzai, a massive town of stone and mist, one of the queen’s soldiers carved a new canal out of solid rock to deliver water to a poorer district.
It wasn’t the kind of monarchy I was used to seeing. The queen didn’t just rule her kingdom. She acted within it. She herself was the one making a difference for her people—not passing down decrees, making decisions with a group like the Directorate, or sending minions to do her bidding. Even though the regional guardians had governance of their sections of the kingdom, the queen was the one they relied on to make the most dramatic changes for them and their people. Neither Mynaria nor Havemont was run this way. The monarchs of those kingdoms had absolute power in theory, but not in practice. Here it was clear that the queen was worshipped almost like a god, and her power was absolute. I admired the way she took personal action to help her people, but her sense of justice was frighteningly ruthless.
After Orzai, we passed other towns but didn’t stop, continuing until we reached foothills and then mountains as magnificent as the ones I’d known back home. The weather kept getting colder until I couldn’t stop shivering, even wrapped in my
fur-lined cloak inside the floating sled. Clouds hung among the snowy peaks like veils, and a part of me reawakened at the sight of them. I’d forgotten what comfort it gave me to see peaks on the horizon, almost as if they were a shield from the rest of the world. After growing up in Spire City, I would always feel like the mountains were home to me.
Parts of our caravan broke away as night fell, the few riders with horses either departing with their mounts or leaving them in the valley farms. Much like my hometown of Spire City, it seemed Corovja was inhospitable for horses thanks to the steep grades. The road grew until it was wider and more winding than any of the others we’d traversed so far. Snow had been pushed to the sides, already piled as high as my knees. Evie, Tristan, and I pressed our faces to the windows of the sled, curious about our new surroundings. The farmland was long gone by the time we reached buildings, which quickly became tall and imposing. Their strange roofs came to sharp peaks at the top, most of them angled in one direction, some extending all the way to the ground. Windows were lit, but the streets were mostly empty. Moonlight occasionally broke through scudding clouds to make the piles of snow gleam with otherworldly light.
When our barge finally drew to a halt and we joined the queen and her attendants outside, my eyes widened. I’d expected something like the castle in Spire City, which was a warren of narrow passages and tall towers. Instead, a huge palace stood before us on the other side of a thick wall, its heavy iron gates being hauled open by ten guards about a hundred paces ahead. The building behind the gate was staggeringly large, easily four times the size of the Mynarian castle just based on the dimensions of the front. The whole thing was made of polished white marble as cold and austere as the snow.
It took us twenty paces to walk through the tunnel past the gate before emerging on the other side. I followed Karina, the queen, and the other trainees up to a set of huge wooden doors at the entrance of the building. Illuminated globes adorned the path, the cool blue light clearly magical in nature. Guards swung the doors to the castle open as we stepped near, bowing in deference to the queen.
A welcome wave of heat greeted us when we walked into the building. I did what I could not to stare, but if the castle was impressive from the outside, it was far more so once we’d walked through the doors. The smooth, polished marble of the floor reflected the light of intricate iron sconces holding orbs like the ones I’d destroyed in the merchants’ hall back in Kartasha. The ceiling was so high, I felt as though it might as well be in the clouds if not for the hundreds, maybe even thousands, of glowing balls that hung from the ceiling at different heights.
Ikrie looked back at me, smirking when she saw my awestruck expression. At least it meant my disguise was probably working—someone who had grown up a servant would certainly gawk at a building like this. The queen immediately dismissed Ikrie and Aela, both of whom looked at home, no doubt because they had grown up noble and their families spent most of the year in Corovja, only wintering in the south. The two girls headed for a hallway leading out of the room, leaving servants to shoulder their packs. Eryk looked after them longingly, fidgeting uncomfortably at being left behind with the rest of us.
“Welcome to Corovja, the crown city of Zumorda,” the queen said to me and the other remaining trainees. “Guards will escort you to your rooms. For your safety, you are not to leave the castle grounds without my permission.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I curtsied, realizing too late that Eryk, Evie, and Tristan were looking at me with confusion. The queen just seemed mildly amused. Mare always told me my manners and my technique were too good for a commoner. It was time for me to let those lessons go to make room for new ones. My adherence to protocol was too reflexive, too automatic, and the rules in Zumorda were clearly very different from those in my homeland. I kept forgetting that powerful magic users tended to be less formal around each other than etiquette would normally require. I purposely wobbled coming out of the curtsy. Hopefully everyone would write off my behavior as Mynarian.
“I have high expectations for you,” the queen said, meeting each of our eyes in turn. Her sapphire eyes burned when she looked at me. “Your training begins tomorrow. Expect competition.”
Ice spread through my veins. “Competition?” I said, my mouth dry. I’d hoped for collaboration, not a fight from the first day.
“Yes,” she said. “See that you don’t disappoint me.” She turned and swept away before any of us could respond. The others dispersed with their escorts, leaving me frightened and alone with mine.
The guard who took me to my rooms looked barely older than me, and talked so fast and so much that I didn’t have any obligation to hold up the other end of the conversation. He pointed out many features of the castle, but I was so weary and preoccupied that I took in almost nothing. The only thing that struck me was how empty the halls seemed. The castle I’d grown up in had always been bustling with activity, even during the coldest, darkest days of winter. I supposed most of the nobles were at the Winter Court. Even so, the emptiness was unsettling and made me that much more aware of how distant I was from everyone I knew and loved. Mare was still in Kartasha, and my family was even farther north than Corovja, in Spire City, probably still assuming I was dead. How was I supposed to survive this strange place without them for support? Without any knowledge of what I’d gotten myself into?
My rooms were finer than I ever could have expected, far outstripping Mare’s quarters in Kartasha. All four of my interconnected rooms had windows looking over the palace grounds, and though I couldn’t see anything in the dark, I knew the views would be spectacular come morning. Sitting down on the curtained bed, I almost felt like a princess again, except that now I was aware of everything I lacked in a way I hadn’t been before. The rooms were too silent, the bed too wide, and the chill seeping into my bones a fitting accompaniment to my loneliness rather than the familiar kiss of winter beginning.
By the time a page arrived to escort me to training the next morning, I had long since been dressed, having found my wardrobe already supplied with several pairs of pants and shirts, all in an unflattering shade of rust. The clothing I’d worn for my disguise as a servant apparently wasn’t appropriate for training.
“Here you are, my lady,” the page said, after leading me on a convoluted path through the castle. “You’ll find the training center through there and down the hall.” He gestured. When I hesitated, he added, “Only students and teachers are allowed inside.”
“Oh.” Nerves made my stomach toss, and I suddenly regretted the small portion of oatmeal and preserves I’d had for breakfast. “Thank you very much.”
The page nodded and disappeared back the way we’d come. The guards stood aside, one of them opening the heavy door.
I didn’t know what to expect from the training area, so I was surprised when the room I entered looked like a reception hall. Somehow I’d been thinking it would be more like a place where guards might practice—a salle or an outdoor arena, somewhere that looked fit for a battle. White walls with intricate plasterwork covering the supporting beams provided a bright contrast to the ceiling, which had been painted black and adorned with sparkling stars that spelled out the constellations I’d learned as a child. The floor was made of common dark gray stone, polished smooth. A strange but welcome feeling of calm washed over me as I entered the space. I could sense ambient magic all around, as if the walls and ceiling were imbued with it, and my arms tingled.
Finally, I was taking the first steps to mastering my powers. If I could do that, perhaps I could get my life back under control, too. All I wanted was some semblance of normalcy—whatever that looked like here. A set of useful skills that would allow me to use my powers without hurting anyone and maybe even to do some good in the world. I tried to quell my doubts that gaining those skills would be enough for Mare. Part of me worried that she’d never truly be able to be comfortable around me again.
The room wasn’t the only source of magic. Evie and Eryk stood ne
ar the center of the floor within easy striking distance of each other, wearing uniforms similar to mine but in green and gray, respectively. Evie’s brows knitted together in concentration, and she held her hands out in front of her, moving them slowly, as if she were tracing symbols in the air—but if she was, they weren’t any symbols I recognized. Eryk’s arms hung at his sides, but his palms were turned forward, facing his sister. Apparently they’d decided to practice without guidance. I clenched and unclenched my fists to try to dispel my anxiety, reminding myself they’d probably been training together their entire lives.
A row of simple wooden chairs stood against the wall, and Tristan sat slumped in one of them. His black shirt was tight on his wiry frame, and I noticed a hole in his pants, which ended in black work boots worn thin from use. His eyes flicked to me as I took a few cautious steps into the room.
“Hello.” I smiled, hoping maybe our travels together had allowed for some sort of camaraderie to bloom, even if we hadn’t talked much.
He paused for so long that my confidence started to fade. I should have tried harder to make friends with the other trainees along the journey.
A shout echoed through the room before he could respond. Eryk had collapsed onto the floor, and Evie stood over him with a triumphant expression on her face.
“Enough!” Eryk gasped.
“Say it,” Evie demanded.
He hesitated for only a moment before choking out, “I yield.”
She smirked and dropped her hands. Eryk rolled onto his back, letting out a frustrated groan and staring at the ceiling.
The door to the training room creaked open, allowing Aela and Ikrie to enter. Both of them looked at me, their stares lingering much longer than was comfortable. Ikrie whispered something to Aela and they both laughed. Before I could attempt to greet them, they turned away, dropping bags on the floor and kicking them underneath two of the chairs against the wall.
Of Ice and Shadows Page 18
