Of Ice and Shadows

by Audrey Coulthurst

  I pondered his words. Was I owning my fate? The only reason I’d come here in the first place was to help Denna, and she’d left me. I hadn’t meant to end up with the other things on my shoulders that weighed on me now. My best didn’t seem good enough to cope, but maybe Harian had a point that taking ownership of my own fate was what mattered. What I needed to do was figure out how Alek was connected to the Sonnenbornes and what their next move was. It still didn’t make sense to me that he’d supposedly been sent here to investigate the disappearance of Duvey’s adolescents at the hands of Sonnenbornes, yet was so friendly with Eronit and Varian. Also, from what I could tell, he spent a lot more time in the salle training than he did investigating, unless he was doing it in the middle of the night.

  “Well, we can’t change the past,” I said. “After the massacre, my people built a sawmill near Almendorn instead. The whole situation could have been avoided if Mynaria and Zumorda had conversed about the project instead of making assumptions on both sides that blew up into a fight. That’s what I’m here to do now—make sure we prevent any misunderstandings and reduce the chance of causing each other harm.”

  “Work with magic users?” Kerrick waggled his eyebrows. “Out of the question!”

  “Better than getting a lot of people killed for no reason,” I said. “But King Aturnicus never was very keen to make allies here.”

  “Well, you certainly sound a bit more reasonable than he was,” Shazi said. “I’m glad to know not all Mynarians hate us as much as we are led to believe.”

  “And I’m glad Zumordans were willing to teach me how to use a sword.” I smiled, even as a pang went through me. Shazi couldn’t have known my father was probably banging on the walls of his tomb over someone describing me as “reasonable.”

  “Now, if only the Sonnenbornes could prove themselves something other than their reputation,” Kerrick muttered.

  “What do you mean?” My interest sharpened.

  “They’re sneaky and secretive,” Kerrick said. “Every merchant knows it.”

  “Don’t generalize about entire groups of people,” Shazi chided. “Every person is worth consideration by their own merits.”

  “Yes, yes,” Kerrick said. “And usually I agree, even if they don’t have any magic by which to determine their strength. It’s not as if my Affinity is especially strong. But all these disappearances don’t sit well with me. How do we know they aren’t related to so many more Sonnenbornes appearing in Kartasha lately?”

  “I heard a lot of people who came to the city in hopes of being chosen for the queen’s elite never made it home,” Harian said.

  “Don’t you think that’s because a lot of them are signing up for the low-income magic training program?” Shazi asked.

  Harian snorted. “The waiting lists are long. They might as well wait at home—there’s no reason to vanish into the city.”

  “What exactly is the program?” I asked.

  “Guardian Zhari developed a new program this past year for young Zumordans with lower incomes to access better training for their Affinities. A lot of people have applied—my father lost two bookkeepers this year. He ended up hiring a vakos Sonnenborne just so he wouldn’t have to go through it a third time.”

  “Pity she doesn’t expand the program to some of the smaller villages,” Harian added. “Almost no one leaves Nobrosk, but there’s talent there if someone would nurture it.”

  “Who is responsible for testing them, though?” I asked. If the program had any relationship to the disappearances, someone actually seeing the magic users had to be involved.

  “At present, Guardian Laurenna,” Kerrick said. “Zhari handed over the testing to her not long after establishing the program. Her ability to sense magic beyond the Sight is useful in assessing people’s gifts.”

  I tensed involuntarily at her name, probably a sign I’d been spending too much time around Alek. On the other hand, if Laurenna was the one doing the testing, there had to be official court records. It would be easy enough to check those against the names of people who’d been reporting missing to see if there was any overlap. I thought about bringing it up but decided it was best to keep to myself.

  “Personally,” Kerrick continued, “I find it odd that even though we’ve had an influx of Zumordans from all over the kingdom, my father’s seen twice as many loan applications for Sonnenbornes to start new businesses here this winter as last. That’s never happened before in all his thirty years in business. The Sonnenbornes are vakos. It’s not as if they are coming here in hopes of finding magic training.”

  “Does he grant the loans?” I asked.

  “Sure, if they meet his qualifications and provide collateral.” Kerrick shrugged. “A lot of them don’t, though.”

  “I heard what they did on the Trindor Canal and how it affected trade,” Shazi said. “Honestly, that was when I started having my doubts.”

  “You mean Zephyr Landing?” I asked, surprised the fighters knew or cared. Merchants must have brought the news with them in the last few weeks.

  Shazi nodded. “Mynaria is no concern of ours, but taking over a city in a coup like that with almost no warning . . . I just don’t trust that that’s the only time they’ll attempt it, especially after they succeeded once.”

  “If they’re thinking like strategists, they’ll use the trade money to fortify their stronghold there, and then move on to another city. Maybe make a second attempt on Duvey?” Harian said.

  “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” I leaned forward. These people made sense to me—they were thinking like I did, and actually listening. “We need to make sure they aren’t planning something like that. What if they’re rallying forces here in Kartasha now to make another move on Duvey? That could be what the loans are really for—not for businesses, but for weapons.”

  “Sard me backward,” Kerrick said. “I hadn’t even thought of that. I told you I don’t have a head for financial things.”

  “But you have at least half a clue about military strategy.” Shazi rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you’ve never played Commander’s Choice with the rest of us.”

  “He’s never beaten me, though.” Harian’s voice was smug.

  “Shut up,” Kerrick said, mock-punching him.

  “I think the question is what we are going to do about the Sonnenbornes,” I said.

  “What can we do about them?” Shazi asked. “It’s not really our problem. It’s the court’s. Guardian Zhari is already doing a lot to make sure that our people’s powers are maximized. Our fighters are as well trained as theirs or better, and we have magic on our side.”

  “It will be your problem if something happens and you get sent to the front lines to fight against them,” I pointed out.

  “True,” Shazi admitted.

  “And during the attack on Duvey I saw magic users taken down with peaceroot powder,” I added. “They’ve found a way to make it airborne and quick-acting, and they don’t hesitate to use it, since it has no effect on them.”

  “Well, I can ask my father about the loans,” Kerrick said. “Maybe there’s some documentation about what they were for.”

  “Now you’re using that pinhead of yours,” Harian said.

  “I have some friends who are Zumordan merchants.” Shazi’s expression took on a calculating air. “I’ll ask them if anything has changed for them lately.”

  “And what about you, Mare?” Harian asked.

  “If we gather enough evidence, I’ll take it to the Winter Court. Guardian Laurenna and Grand Vizier Zhari have to listen to us if there’s enough, and then the queen will have to step in and do something,” I said. I also had every intention of keeping an eye on Alek, but I doubted that aspect of the plan would go over as well with them.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Harian said, raising his glass. We all toasted and downed another sip of our drinks. The barleywine was much richer than ale on my tongue, dark and bittersweet.

  Conversation grew
looser as the drinks continued to flow, turning from politics and swordsmanship to magic. I learned that Harian had an earth Affinity and that Shazi’s was for air, which made sense based on how she’d helped Fadeyka when her magic slipped out of control. None of them had strong gifts, which was part of why they’d taken up the sword. I wondered if perhaps they still had ambitions that might land them positions like Wymund’s—guardian in spite of a less powerful Affinity. Sometimes at the salle I thought of him, and it gave me hope that I didn’t need to have magic to be respected and powerful in my own way.

  “So none of you wanted to try out for the queen’s program?” I asked, trying to ignore the swelling ache in my chest. It was what Denna had chosen over me. I had to believe it was worth it.

  “Not even if I was eligible,” Shazi said. “Not that I would have had much choice, I suppose.”

  Her vehemence piqued my curiosity. “Why not? Isn’t it a great honor to be chosen?”

  “Yes, if you can survive the training.” Shazi swallowed the dregs of her drink.

  “My aunt was apprenticed to become a guardian,” Harian said softly. “She didn’t make it.”

  “You mean she died?” My eyes widened.

  “Not right away,” Harian said. “I was small when it happened, but I remember her coming home for midsummer holiday a few months after she started. She used to be the first to tell a joke or to laugh, and was always chasing us kids around to give my mother a break, but she came back a completely different person. I barely saw her leave her room. She never smiled. Four moons later, she came home permanently, stripped of her gift, with only her manifest remaining. By Midwinter, she chose to take her manifest permanently and left us to live the rest of her days as a wolf.”

  Kerrick shuddered. “Sometimes I’m glad not to have a greater gift.”

  Worry consumed me. Was this what Denna was going to be put through by the queen? If she didn’t succeed, would she end up broken, without even a manifest to retreat to? Another, darker thought followed—that perhaps it would be a blessing for Denna to be stripped of her gift if there was a way to do it without harming her. The longer we were apart, the more I resented her magic for being the force that had driven her away from me. Our lives would be so much less complicated without it. If not for her gift, she would have stayed. Then I felt guilty for even letting the thought cross my mind. Me wanting to rid her of her gift was why she’d left. How could I even still consider it a possibility? She’d made her feelings clear.

  “Even those who survive the training and get good placements are different from the people they were,” Harian said. “My aunt’s closest friend ended up completing the training and becoming our guardian. She still is, in fact. But it’s amazing to see a woman who used to tend rare flowers with the greatest delicacy turn into someone who won’t hesitate to spill her own neighbor’s blood at the order of her queen.”

  All the drinks in the world weren’t enough to warm me now. Denna’s training—and her life—were in the hands of the queen. If she even wanted to return to me someday, would she come back whole?

  SIXTEEN

  Dennaleia

  A FEW EVENINGS AFTER MY FIRST DISASTROUS INTRODUCTION to training, I set out to find the castle library. If my instructors weren’t going to give me any books to study, I’d find them myself. It seemed like my only hope of catching up with the other trainees, all of whom had demonstrated over the past days that their mastery of their Affinities exceeded mine in every way. I wished there were a sanctuary or temple I could pray in to steady my nerves and calm my magic, but for now the library would have to do. The sky outside was night-dark when I sought out a page and asked her for directions. She gave me an odd look but nodded, explaining in Zumordan so quickly I could barely follow.

  Books on magic had been rare in my homeland and forbidden in Mynaria, so this was the best opportunity to learn in exactly the way I did best: by reading. Book research and taking study notes were things I actually knew how to do. I needed to find a book that would explain my powers to me in a way I could understand and apply. I thought it would be straightforward—until I actually saw the library. A set of heavy double doors awaited me at the end of a narrow hallway, just as the page had described. I set down my lantern and tugged on the handle of one of the doors, surprised when it opened only a finger’s length. It wasn’t locked—just stuck. I battled the door for a solid five minutes before finally getting it open enough to slip inside.

  When I held the lantern aloft, my heart sank. The library must have once been a beautiful room. It took up one of the castle’s turrets that overlooked a valley, and had rounded walls lined on all sides with shelves. Tall, arching windows made up most of the south wall, and a staircase spiraled away from the door up to a balcony and more shelves above. In the dark, I couldn’t tell how many floors there were. With the strong light from the south, the room must have once been perfect for reading during the day. Now a thick coat of dust covered its tables and chairs as well as the books stacked haphazardly on every piece of furniture. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, even by the castle servants. No wonder the page had looked at me so strangely for inquiring about it.

  I paced through the room. There was no order to anything. Open trunks were stuffed with so many scrolls that they overflowed onto the floor, the edges of some yellowing from exposure to light. I pawed through a few and found mostly architectural drawings of the castle, plus a recipe for fig sauce randomly tucked between them. Nothing in the library was cataloged or in order of any kind. Before I had any chance of finding a book that would help me with my magic, I was going to have to organize everything.

  I sighed, then rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and got to work.

  By the time dawn started to glow on the horizon, I felt like a failure. I’d found only one book that looked like it might be helpful—a biography of someone who’d also had a fire Affinity. Of course it was in Zumordan, which meant my usual reading speed would be slowed by having to translate. Organizing the library hadn’t gone well, either. It was hopeless to try to catalog it all without some kind of ledger, and I couldn’t find any blank paper or writing utensils in the room. So I’d started making piles categorized by subject, which got me through only a small section of the ground-floor room.

  Perhaps looking for answers in books had been foolish of me. Not only had I stayed up all night, ensuring I’d be exhausted at my next lesson, but I’d apparently done it for no reason. It felt like the latest in a series of mistakes, and I wasn’t even sure what the first one had been. Was it letting everyone believe I’d died in the star fall? Was it the morning I’d gotten up before dawn to leave Mare behind? Or, the darkest part of my heart asked, was it the night I’d chosen to flee from the man I was betrothed to in order to save his sister instead? I couldn’t go back in time, which made it pointless to think about, but my mind still chewed on the questions as insatiably as a dog with a piece of cured hide. Sometimes I felt like if I could pinpoint when I’d made mistakes, I could avoid making them again, but instead I just kept fumbling into new ones.

  I paced over to the windows and looked out at the castle grounds. The snow outside amplified the golden light of the rising sun, which had begun to filter into the room in long beams. Walls below seemed to indicate a garden laid out in a mazelike pattern. Trees with ice-crusted branches were scattered among them. Beyond the farthest wall of the garden, a bridge led to a large, flat area that looked like the floor of a ruined building, the rest of which seemed to have slid off the side of the mountain. All that remained of it was half the floor crumbling into broken edges and a few pieces of wall with empty holes where windows had once been. I followed the outlines of the ruin, noticing four curved edges as though the building had once had alcoves. If the building had been symmetrical, two had collapsed.

  Considering how pristine the rest of the castle was kept, it seemed odd that a ruin of that magnitude would be part of it. Even more strange, the empty windows looked
similar to those that were such a defining characteristic of the High Adytum—the holiest temple in the Northern Kingdoms. In Tilium I’d learned that Zumorda had once had temples. Could this ruin be one of them?

  I rooted through a pile of religious texts I’d found and skimmed the pages. Most of the content was familiar, even though the volumes were older than the ones I’d studied back home. All six gods were mentioned, though there were confusing references to the children of the gods, which may have just been a poor translation on my part, given that I’d never studied ancient Zumordan. I also figured that since Zumordans didn’t worship the gods, the texts might have been translated from ancient Mynarian or Havemontian into Zumordan, which would make for even messier interpretations of meaning. Strangest of all, a few books also included an illustration of a seven-pointed star like Fadeyka’s pendant and talked about its being a representation of all six gods working together with the help of a seventh god. I’d never heard of such a thing or seen the symbol in a temple or sanctuary before.

  I returned to the trunk of architectural scrolls and sat cross-legged next to it. Halfway through examining the contents, I unrolled a scroll that made me pause. It was yellow with age and moth-chewed at the edges, the ink lines faded to nothing in some places. I spread it out on the floor and pinned it down with a couple of heavy books to get a better look. The version of the castle in the drawing was slightly smaller than the one now, but the central buildings were all the same. The most notable difference was a bridge leading to a huge building labeled Grand Temple. According to the map, it was located in the same spot as the ruin I could see outside the library window.

  I sat back, reeling. Why would the Zumordans have had a temple on a par with the High Adytum unless they had once worshipped the gods? Perhaps they had. What had happened to change everything, and why was the ruin still here?

  I dug through the rest of the scrolls in the trunk, unrolling them all in turn until I found another, newer set of drawings from just fifty years ago. The temple was no longer labeled, but while there were notes about the construction of a new wing of the castle that hadn’t existed in the previous drawing, the architect’s notes on the temple area merely read Leave untouched.