by Tom Hansen
The Frost Fervor Concordance First Trilogy
Books 1-3 + Kindling Vengeance Novella + Two Short Stories
Tom Hansen
Contents
Introduction
Igniting Vengeance
Flaming Vengeance
Blazing Vengeance
Kindling Vengeance
Ynya Vs the Frost Bear
Miss-Miss’s Near Miss
Author’s Notes
Excerpt from Sparking Vengeance
About Tom Hansen
Also by Tom Hansen
The Frost Fervor Concordance Books 1-3 + Bonus Novella
Copyright © 2019 IceBlazer Entertainment
Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Design
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-946407-16-0
For all who stop at nothing to protect their family.
When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.
Author Unknown
Introduction
So much bonus content!
In the description for this book bundle, I mentioned a free bonus novella detailing how Ynya’s parents met, but I’ve also included two additional bonus short stories as well!
They are called Ynya Vs the Frost Bear and Miss-Miss’s Near Miss. I included them both at the end of the bundle. Ynya Vs the Frost Bear introduces us to the carefree but protective Ynya Oblique as a young girl, while Miss-Miss’s Near Miss follows a group of refugees met in book one.
Please also note that the bonus novella Kindling Vengeance should be read only after you have read the other three main books in this series, as it contains spoilers from book three. That is why I placed it at the end of the three books in this bundle, so just flip to the next page, and read all the way through to the end!
As-if that wasn’t enough, I have a free prequel novella called Inciting Vengeance which I highly recommend you read before this series! If you’ve ever wondered what it takes to make a villain, wonder no more!
Enjoy!
-Tom Hansen
May 2019
Igniting Vengeance
Prologue
Bone-chilling mist swirled about Imryll Farora as she stepped out of the Asternus Evocesco. Khatar stood by her side before she stumbled, his dexterous hands guiding the robe over her naked form. He buoyed her over to the frigid overlook of the Fellsstav Valley.
Frost-borne winds howled in the distance, filling her head with a comforting noise to drown out the raging torrent of the Concordance.
“It seems you had a good session, my Lady. I will prepare tea as soon as you are ready.”
She needed a few seconds to regain her power and stand on her own, then the real work would begin.
“Another child has been born to the west.” The words singed her tongue.
It could change everything.
Imryll’s mind raced as she tied off her robe. So much to do before the vision fully dissipated. She had to verify. She needed to know.
“Is that the fourth child, my Lady? It’s been years since the last one.”
Her head stopped swirling as the rush of magic faded, and she took her first step. He bowed away as she steadied her weight on the corner of her desk.
Imryll narrowed her gaze to the desk overlooking Fellsstav Valley. Dark clouds converged overhead, bringing an endless winter to the frigid north.
Did the stars speak true, or deceive?
Her mind slowly churned as the images she’d seen in the trance coalesced into solid clues.
“Eight years.”
She surveyed her desk, grabbing at papers and books, looking at their spines before tossing them away. Imryll took a tentative step, her legs still weak, but able to stand on her own. The beginnings of a plan formed in her mind.
“Eight years and eight days to be exact.”
Khatar ground spices for the tea while she rooted and tossed. Ever so politely, he cleared his throat and indicated with his head at the pedestal. “A curious number, eight and eight.”
Imryll gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to inflict pain on him for his insubordination. She had no time. She needed to look things up, she needed to find out what it all meant.
She dropped the book on the desk and flipped pages.
Imryll checked the first, then the second. It was an interesting start, but two do not a pattern make. Any number of things could have gone wrong in the birth, or the gestation period. Just because a child was born under a certain moon and star alignment didn’t mean they’d been conceived under one.
She frowned when she checked the third. There was no way a baby would have stayed in the womb that long, it would have taken a miracle, and some extremely rare components to make it work. Improbable.
But not impossible…
Imryll flipped pages in bulk to get closer, one page at a time. She didn’t want to overshoot. She counted in her head, matching what she’d seen in the trance. She needed to be exact. After all this time, decades of clues could have led up to this final piece to the puzzle. She hoped it would end here. Her long search could be over.
Imryll’s long blue fingernail slammed into the yellowed pages at the header. Her mind tried to comprehend the answer.
How could anyone know this?
She ran her fingernail down the first column, then back to the top of the page and halfway down the second column, looking for the right phase.
No, she didn’t. She couldn’t have.
Chills ran down her spine, starting from her forehead.
Imryll whispered the words to exit the Asternus Evocesco, ensuring she was no longer in the mystical trance. Any mistakes at this point would cost her more time, potentially decades.
She looked down at the page again, moving her finger down two more lines.
“But…” she trailed off, bewildered.
Imryll looked up where Khatar looked over a teapot. The aromas of honey and cinnamon filled the air.
“Get the sextant.”
“My Lady?” He stopped when he noticed the fierce look in her eyes. “Oh…the sextant is right over—”
Khatar didn’t merely walk across the room, he sprinted.
The coattail on his robe toppled the teapot. Cinnamon and rosehip powder flew into the air as the loose flame lit the small wood pile next to it.
She ignored his mistake. It didn’t matter. Being this close to a breakthrough meant one needed to stay focused and not get distracted by minor annoyances.
Stepping to the window, she looked through the telescope.
Imryll scratched numbers onto a tablet, keeping one eye on the moon through the lens.
Khatar’s fingers fumbled on the device.
She barked out numbers, he dialed them in.
“Got it.” He didn’t address her as My Lady this time, and she didn’t care, she had seconds to get this figured out, or it would be years before they could test once more.
He placed the sextant in her hand. She pointed at the desk. “Second column, halfway down, third line after quarter constant.”
His hands trembled as he looked for the mark.
“Thirty-four degrees, eighteen minutes.”
Imryll looked through
the sextant to confirm.
“Thirty-four eighteen.”
She dropped the sextant, ignoring the hundred-year-old device as it cracked on the hard stone floor.
This was it. Double verified. A gift straight from the Gods.
Imryll looked up at her assistant, eyes wide.
“It’s happened.” Her lip quivered. “I can’t believe after all these decades it’s finally happened.”
His face stricken, Khatar glanced at the small fire crawling up the tapestry in the corner.
Imryll snapped her fingers. With a chilling gust, the fire snuffed out, leaving behind a light dusting of snow.
“Shall…shall I inform The Translator?”
“Not yet. They haven’t bloomed, and we are still years from a breakthrough. Much could still go wrong.”
She sat down and looked across the frozen valley before her. The dark shimmer of the Feond just visible across the vast landscape.
A wicked smile spread across her lips. “Those children will be mine. Through them I will tear down the Feond and take my rightful place once again.”
Imryll leaned forward, tapping her long fingernails on the rowan wood chair. “Oh yes, this is going to change everything.”
Annoyance percolated in her mind. Why didn’t she already have a cup of tea in her hand?
Chapter One
Steam roiled off Ynya Oblique’s bare skin as she surfaced a few feet from her canoe. She wore a big smile on her thin face as she paddled the final few feet before climbing aboard.
“It only took me three days, but I got you!”
Behind her, a small wooden basket floated in the water. Inside, three lobsters snapped their bright red claws at each other as they tried to escape the surreptitious change in scenery.
Ynya watched the three jockey for position until her milky skin dried in the freezing mountain air. The cold never bothered her.
She glanced around, realizing how naked she was out here on the fjord lake.
Other than the light ripples across the surface from her own boat, nothing stirred on the cliffs or in the dark blue water.
“Of course there isn’t anyone around, no one else would be so stupid to come out right now.” She giggled as she kicked her feet in the water, enjoying the feel across her bare legs. She enjoyed this yearly trip. Alone is what she preferred. Alone worked best.
A quick glance through the ship’s storage containers told Ynya everything she needed to know. Her small ship overflowed with fish! It would be enough to feed her family for months, even given the poor vegetable harvest this last season.
A muscle in her face twitched. At least she didn’t have to travel down to Holmslatr. Her mother and father would make that trip soon.
“To see her.”
Ynya stuck her tongue out at the thought. The old grievances needed to stay there, in the past. Worrying about bygones did nothing for the future. She would stay in Marsfjord and tend the garden and make sure Finny and Meki did their lessons.
Beneath her legs, a large cod came up to investigate the three lobsters in the basket.
She plunged her hand into the lake, grabbing the large fish right behind its gills. She pulled it from the lake, the cold water dripping off its scaly back, and brought it up to her face. “I’m sorry coddie, but you are going to be dinner for me.”
Ynya focused her energy on her hand and into the fish. Steam poured off the fish and sublimated into the air around her. Within seconds the fish had stopped struggling and soon became rigid.
She relaxed her grip and dropped the cooked fish into her lap. After another quick glance around to make sure no one had followed her to watch her eat naked, she tore open the fish and scooped up the flesh with her hand, tossing it into her mouth.
Perfectly cooked and tasting amazing, Ynya wished she had brought some salt with her. That would have required planning, and planning wasn’t exactly Ynya’s strong suit.
Ynya finished off her meal and jumped into the lake to swim a few laps. The refreshing swim cleaned off the grease and bits of food caught in her hair.
She got back into the boat and stretched while the water steamed off her hot skin.
Ynya looked up at the sky. She felt safe nestled in here between the towering Razorclaws. The narrow field of view allowed her a small window to the heavens, and she wondered if the Gods Above watched her though that portal as she did in reverse.
After pulling in the lobster basket and stashing them with the others in the trolley behind the boat, Ynya tallied the fish. Twenty fish over her original plan meant she should begin the journey home.
The moon shone breathtakingly full tonight and would handily light her way through the fjord to home.
If she left now, she would make it home before the sun came up, possibly even surprise her family with a fresh cooked cod for breakfast.
Something bumped into her boat and she turned with a jump. A hunk of glacier ice bobbed in the water, just out of arm’s reach.
“I suppose I should get dressed before I get home.”
Her hair had already dried out by the time she got everything packed. She spent a few frustrating minutes trying to detangle her bright red curls before pulling the thin wool dress over her head.
Ynya’s mother always made the dresses too big for her, hoping she would fill them out at some point, but as she had told her mother every year since she could talk, “I’m never going to grow up or fill these out like you want, Mama. I’ll always be your little girl.”
She stared at the moccasins in the front of the boat and shook her head. Her Mama would never get it, would she? Even if she didn’t, parents worried about their children regardless.
If only her mother had known the things Ynya had done. So many adventures, and so many close calls.
It was probably better for her mother not to know all the gory details.
Ynya grabbed the large oar, straddled the canoe with her bare feet, and paddled home, using the full moon to help her navigate her way through the hundreds of small ice chunks meandering across the lake’s surface.
It had been a productive fishing trip, and Ynya’s skin bristled with excitement to show her family the haul that would sustain them for the next few months.
Chapter Two
Ynya paddled all night to reach her hometown of Marsfjord, stopping twice to cook and eat more fish for energy.
The rising sun felt amazing on her skin as it came over the top of the buildings to the east.
Smoke already rose from various locations in the sleepy fishing village. A small haze hung over the town from the overnight fires.
Never having to stoke a fire for her own comfort, Ynya rarely thought about how different life was for the rest of the people in her town.
She had always been so independent that most people ignored her, which was fine by her. Ynya preferred the anonymity and freedom of not being beholden to the ways of life around her.
The smoke seemed too thick for such a calm morning. She expected a few fires, but these weren’t localized in the dozens of chimneys around the village.
Something’s wrong.
The acrid smoke hit her nose and she knew it wasn’t simple wood fires to warm homes.
Entire homes had burned.
Panic welled in her chest and she quickened her paddling to get closer to the village at the end of the fjord.
“Mama, Papa!” Ynya yelled across the bay, knowing fully well they wouldn’t be able to hear her from this distance. She didn’t care, she cried out again.
Halfway across the bay, a small boat drifted lazily through the water. She rowed toward it, hailing to the figure in the vessel. “Hoi! Is something wrong in the village?”
No answer.
She paddled closer but stopped short when she saw into the boat.
It was her neighbor, Myrar. The middle-aged woman huddled over in the boat, three arrows her in her back. She wore only a nightdress. Even in the summer most people only wore such clothes to bed when they
could be covered by skins and blankets. Had she tried to run in the middle of the night?
What is going on? Who could have done this? Marsfjord was a peaceful little fishing village that never bothered anyone.
Their boats drifted closer and bumped together. The woman’s lifeless body didn’t move, in fact, upon closer inspection, she was frozen solid.
Ynya’s blood went ice-cold. If Myrar’s body was frozen, she had to have been out here for at least a day. This didn’t happen overnight, it had happened at least a day ago.
Ynya shuddered, almost dropping the oar in the water.
“Mama, Papa?” Her voice was barely audible in the stillness of the morning. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to raise it higher than a whisper.
All around her, the sheer silence of the place tore at her mind. Now that the sun was high enough in the sky and not in her face, she saw the entire village clearly.
Ynya hadn’t come home to a lively sea-side fishing village.
She came home to a graveyard.
The three dozen houses of her village of Marsfjord were all burned to the ground.
Two structures still smoldered, the larder house and the grain mill, most likely from the stores of food in them taking a couple days to fully burn.
Ynya’s stomach roiled and she dropped to her knees, vomiting over the side and into the water.
She shuddered and heaved for a few minutes, until her stomach was empty. Her throat burned, and her eyes pained from the hot tears running down her cheek.
Ynya looked back up at the horrors laid out before her. Every single house was destroyed. Half a dozen bodies floated in the bay. Women and children, all in various states of dress, tossed out like chum. Some had arrows in them, others missed limbs. Many were burned, their pale skin blackened from the heat.
