The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4)

by Andrew Hunter

  Banden watched her go. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “She seemed nice,” Garrett said.

  Banden looked at him. “Nice? She’s great!” he said.

  Garrett waved his hands noncommittally. “Yeah… no, I like her,” he said, “I just don’t know what else to say… She seems nice.”

  Banden frowned.

  “How’d you meet her?” Garrett asked, “I thought the girls weren’t supposed to talk to the boys here.”

  Banden smiled again. “I met her a few weeks ago,” he said, as he began to walk, leading Garrett back out of the hedge maze, “I had first watch outside the barracks again… You’re lucky you don’t live here, or you’d have to pull night watches like the rest of us who do… but, anyway, I was out on watch when I saw someone headed toward the gardens, and I stopped her to see what she was doing.

  “It turned out to be Frae. She was out past Curfew because she had forgotten her prayer cord in the garden, and she’d be in big trouble if she didn’t have it for morning prayers. She begged me not to tell anyone… I guess I should have… It’s the only time I’ve ever broken a rule since I came here, but I just couldn’t, you know. I don’t know what they do to you for losing a prayer cord, but after what they did to you for missing a few days…”

  “Mauravant’s not the most forgiving goddess, is she?” Garrett laughed.

  “Hey!” Banden said, “Don’t… blaspheme, all right?”

  “Huh?” Garrett said, taken aback.

  “Just don’t say bad things about the Goddess,” Banden said, “You have to show respect for the gods.”

  Garrett looked at him for a moment. “Yeah, all right,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Banden smiled. “Anyway,” he said, “I saw her again later, and… well… we kinda see each other whenever we can now.”

  “I’m glad,” Garrett said, “I know it must have been hard, coming to some place you’ve never been before, not knowing anybody here… especially this place. I remember what that was like when I first came here. I went to bed every night that first year, thinking something was gonna crawl out from under my bed and eat me while I slept.”

  “I wasn’t alone,” Banden said, “I knew you and Matron Serepheni.”

  Garrett felt suddenly ashamed. “Look, Banden,” he said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t around more than I was… I guess I just sorta didn’t want to be here, at the temple.”

  “But you do now?” Banden asked.

  Garrett sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, “Sometimes it seems like I’m just doing what everybody expects me to do.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Garrett smiled. “I want to find my girlfriend,” he said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Garrett slipped inside the pet shop to find Mrs. Veranu dusting the back shelves. She turned to greet him, her amber eyes smiling at him over the top of her red scarf. “Good Afternoon, Garrett,” she said.

  “Good Afternoon, Mrs. Veranu,” Garrett answered, his eyes scanning the gloomy shop, more out of habit than any real hope of finding Marla there.

  Mrs. Veranu tugged down her scarf and gave him a broad grin. “In the back,” she whispered, tilting her head toward the curtain behind the counter.

  Garrett’s heart leapt, and he grinned back at the vampire woman as she opened the gate to let him pass. He laid his satchel on the counter and nodded his thanks as he lifted the curtain aside and slipped into the storeroom at the back of the shop.

  Marla sat with her head resting on the palm of her left hand. In her right hand, she clutched a black quill pen, and her lips moved silently as she stared down at the enormous book open before her and the stack of parchment beside it on the table where she sat. She wore a uniform of gray trousers, polished black knee-high boots, and a high-collared, close-fitting black jacket.

  Garrett stood there for a moment, smiling as he watched her study. Her lips stopped moving, and she flipped the great book back a few pages and reread something as her brow furrowed in frustration.

  “It doesn’t make sense!” she groaned.

  “Maybe I can help?” Garrett offered.

  Marla looked up, suddenly aware of his presence, and her eyes went wide.

  “Garrett!” she cried, crushing him in a hug before the quill pen could even hit the floor.

  “Hi, Marla!” Garrett squeaked.

  She released him, leaning back to grin at him with her hands still on his shoulders. Garrett managed to draw in about half a breath before Marla leaned close and kissed him, and he forgot all about breathing for a while.

  Garrett grinned sheepishly as she stepped away, letting him recover. Her pale cheeks blushed a warm pink as she looked down at the floor, her hands behind her back. “It’s good to see you again, Garrett,” she said.

  “Yeah, you too,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to…”

  “No,” he interrupted her, “it’s all right… Klavicus told me about all the things they’re making you do… I know you don’t have a lot of time these days… It’s just really good to see you.”

  She smiled at him and then looked back over her shoulder toward the pile of books and papers on the desk. “You know, I used to enjoy studying,” she sighed.

  “I’m sorry it’s so hard on you now,” Garrett said, “but if there’s any way I can help…”

  Marla shook her head. “I have enough trouble understanding these books by myself,” she said, “I don’t think you would even know where to begin to help me.”

  “Hey!” he laughed, “I’m not that dumb!”

  “No!” she said, putting her hand on his arm, “I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just… each volume builds upon the teachings of the last, and I’m on the third now… and the first expected that you would begin with a basic knowledge of both written Draconic and Thrinnian history.”

  Garrett shrugged. “I can turn the pages for you if your arm gets tired.”

  Marla giggled. “No,” she said, “I’d have no hope of understanding any of it if you were there to distract me.”

  “Do you ever get any breaks?” Garrett asked.

  Marla’s eyes fell. “I get four hours of sleep every day,” she said, “Mother insisted on that.”

  Garrett winced. “It’s not fair,” he said.

  Marla shook her head, smiling again. “Did you know there is no word for Fair in Old Draconic?”

  Garrett laughed.

  “I’ve missed you,” Marla whispered.

  “I missed you too,” Garrett said.

  They leaned close and shared another kiss, gently this time.

  Marla stepped back, smoothing the front of Garrett’s green doublet with her fingertips. “How are your duties at the temple going?” she asked.

  “Well, I’ve only been publicly flogged once,” he chuckled.

  “What?” Marla gasped, her eyes flashing dangerously.

  “It’s all right!” he assured her, “It didn’t hurt, and I even made friends with the priestess who whipped me. I guess she liked the way a took a beating or something, so she’s teaching me how to fight… I’m actually getting pretty good at it.”

  Marla’s expression darkened. “I don’t think I like the sound of that,” she said, “I don’t want them turning you into one of them. I love you the way you are.”

  Garrett’s breath caught in his throat, and his smile went a bit trembly. “I love you too,” he rasped.

  Marla’s smile returned, showing her pearly white teeth and the little points of her fangs. A loose strand of her dark hair fell across her eyes as she lowered her head.

  Garrett reached up and brushed it back, his hand lingering on her cheek.

  Marla took his hand between hers and pressed her warm lips to his palm. Her eyes lifted to his in alarm.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Garrett, you’re cold!” she said.

  He shrugged as best he could with his hand pinned between hers. “I don’t feel co
ld,” he said.

  Marla put her hand to his cheek and forehead, frowning. “Are you sick?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, “Lady Ymowyn gave me some medicine, and I got over my cold.”

  “What cold?”

  “I got really sick after that night that we set Lampwicke free,” he said, “I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want you to worry about it… I really am better now.”

  “The night we set Lampwicke free?” she said, looking thoughtful, “Garrett, that’s right after you returned from the Songreaver’s tomb… right after you discovered the power to break the enchantment on Lampwicke’s cage. Garrett, you’ve been cold ever since you returned from the tomb!”

  Garrett shook his head. “I’m fine!” he insisted, “I really don’t feel bad at all anymore.”

  “I think you’d better tell me what’s going on,” Marla’s mother spoke from where she stood in the curtained door. Her eyes were on Garrett, and he squirmed like a mouse pinned beneath a cat’s paw.

  Marla sighed. “I’m sorry, mother,” she said, “but Garrett and I went beneath the city, in search of the tomb of Brahnek Spellbreaker. We were trying to find a way to free Garrett’s fairy before she faded.”

  Mrs. Veranu’s eyes widened. She looked at Marla in surprise and then stepped forward quickly to push back the hood of Garrett’s cloak and press her palm to his forehead. “You’re freezing!” she gasped.

  “I really am fine,” Garrett sighed.

  “You found it?” Mrs. Veranu asked, looking at Marla, “You really found the power of the Songreaver?”

  “I believe so, yes,” Marla answered.

  “You believe so?”

  “Yeah, it’s just that… neither one of us can remember exactly what happened,” Garrett said.

  Mrs. Veranu stepped back, studying Garrett intently. “You really found it,” she whispered, shaking her head, “You really found it!”

  Garrett shrugged again and gave her a placating smile.

  Mrs. Veranu suddenly disappeared, and the rune-marked curtain fluttered like a flag in the wind at her passing. She reappeared a moment later with a sliver cage in hand. A male fairy inside it was cursing her hotly as she thumped the cage down on the worktable against the wall. Garrett recognized the fairy as the one who had liked his joke before.

  “Do it,” Mrs. Veranu said, pointing at the cage, “I want to see you break something, Garrett.”

  Garrett looked at her and then down at the little fairy whose brassy glow now dimmed in fear.

  “I want to see how this works,” Mrs. Veranu said, “Set it free.”

  Garrett thought for a moment, gathering his courage, then he spoke, “I’ll only do it if you agree to let him go… not to capture him again, if I set him free.”

  Mrs. Veranu shrugged. “Done,” she said, “No one wants to buy a rude fairy anyway. If you can free him, I’ll let him go.”

  The little fairy in the cage blazed with a golden light as he stared up at the vampire woman in disbelief. He looked at Garrett then and demanded, “Siearra Na’droughuu?”

  Garrett nodded and answered, “Na’droughuu… Vuraane.” He smiled and added, “Tu’ala droughuu ta veortne saba.”

  The fairy stumbled backward, letting out a desperate laugh, his burning eyes glittering with mingled fear and hope.

  Garrett stood, facing the cage, and reached out his hand over the invisible runes of vampiric magic that surrounded it, seeing them with his mind rather than his eyes. He chuckled.

  “What is it?” Marla asked.

  “Your mom cast this spell, not you,” he said.

  The vampire women shared a startled glance.

  “How did you know?” Mrs. Veranu asked.

  “It just… tastes different,” he said. The runes burned, red and angry in Garrett’s mind, but the golden thread of ancient magic that marked Marla’s work was missing. This one would be easy to break.

  Garrett felt the icy power well up in his chest and erupt from his mouth like the voice of a great waterfall, crashing down. “Break!” he shouted, and the entire room shook with the power of his command.

  The silver cage ripped apart, its tiny bars scattered like matchsticks, twisted and ruined, raining down all over the room with a tinny clatter.

  The scent of a thunderstorm hung in the air, and a frosty mist rattled from Garrett’s lips as he swooned a little on his feet. The vampires rushed forward to steady him, Marla hugging him tightly with her hair against his cheek as he chuckled weakly.

  The little fairy huddled at the bottom of the wrecked cage with his arms and wings wrapped protectively over his body. Garrett smiled as the fairy dared a peek, his blue eyes round with astonishment.

  “Se vuraane?” the fairy whispered.

  Garrett nodded. “It’s true,” he answered, hoarsely, “You’re free.”

  The fairy stared up at him, not daring to believe. Then he braced himself and roared in defiance as he flew forward, passing through the space where moments before silver bars and ancient magic had marked the boundaries of his world.

  The fairy bounced off the back of a nearby chair and fell, dazed, to the floor. Marla stepped toward him to help him, but he recovered quickly, flitting away to cower behind a row of jars on a high shelf.

  “Marla, would you be so good as to let our guest out through the back door?” Mrs. Veranu said.

  “Of course,” Marla answered, leaving Garrett in her mother’s care as she coaxed the fairy into making a break for it.

  Garrett watched as the brassy blur disappeared through the open door, and he smiled weakly before a bought of coughing doubled him over.

  Mrs. Veranu led Garrett over to the chair and sat him down. “Marla,” she said, “go up the street to the tea house and fetch us a large pot of hot tea! Take the money from the till and hurry.” Marla was already outside, when her mother shouted, “And don’t forget your cloak! It’s still daylight!”

  The front door banged open again as Marla returned to grab her hooded cloak, a pained and sickly look on her face. She grinned sheepishly at her mother and then disappeared once again in a gray blur.

  Mrs. Veranu sighed and shook her head. Garrett could feel the distant sensation of contact and guessed that she was rubbing his back as he sat, hunched in the chair.

  “You did this to yourself for a fairy?” she whispered, “Garrett, you dear, foolish boy…”

  Garrett chuckled, drawing in a breath and straightening his back. He coughed again, but not as hard this time. “I’m all right,” he said, looking up at her.

  Mrs. Veranu frowned. Her eyes went toward the curtain door. “Garrett,” she said, “we have to talk about this… but Marla… her burden is too great right now. Can you be strong for me… for her?”

  “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat, “I really am fine.”

  She squeezed his shoulder. “I want you to come back tomorrow,” she said, “Marla won’t be here then, but I need to figure out what to do with you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong!” Garrett protested, “I’m fine! I really am!”

  “No, Garrett! You don’t understand what you’ve done!” she sighed, “This isn’t some new magic trick you’ve picked up. This is something… I don’t know, Garrett… this isn’t something I’ve had to face in a long time.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “This kind of power,” she said, her eyes going distant, “This kind of power changes you… and it will not stay hidden inside you for long.”

  “I don’t…” Garrett began, but Mrs. Veranu shushed him, her eyes going toward the door again.

  A moment later, Marla burst through the front door and raced back to the storeroom with a steaming kettle of tea clutched in both hands. She laid it on the table atop a black, leather-bound book and fumbled in a nearby cabinet, returning a moment later with a silver cup. She looked down into the cup, frowning, and wiped it clean with the hem of her cloak before pouring a cup of tea and passing it to Garr
ett.

  “Thanks,” he said, “but I’m not really thirsty.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it,” Mrs. Veranu chuckled, “You’re drinking the whole pot before you leave.”

  Garrett sighed and took a sip. The hot tea had a faint metallic taste to it, and Garrett tried not to think about that, as he did his best to finish it.

  *******

  Marla reached out to touch his cheek again as they walked together up the empty lane that ran along the wall between the Foreign District and the Merchant’s Quarter toward Queensgarden.

  “What?” Garrett laughed.

  Marla’s smile was the only thing that showed beneath the shadow of her hood as she pulled her hand away and slipped it back beneath the protection of her cloak. “It’s just… I’m used to you being warmer than me,” she said, “Is that what it was like to touch my skin… before?”

  Garrett shrugged. “It never bothered me,” he said, “Does it bother you?”

  “No!” she said, “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Garrett smiled. “Maybe you can find some old dragon magic too… just not quite as powerful as mine, and it will even us both out?”

  Marla’s laugh died quickly, and she looked away, falling silent.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She looked at him again, lifting her hood enough that he could see her eyes. “I’m sorry about your uncle going away,” she said.

  Garrett nodded. He took a long, slow breath before he spoke again. “You remember what I told you in the swamp?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “About the house… about you and your mom coming to live with us,” he said, his eyes locked on the paving stones that passed beneath his feet, “Well, the house will be mine when Uncle leaves, and I meant what I said.”

  Garrett could sense the tension in Marla’s shoulders as she considered the possibility.

  “Garrett…” she sighed.

  He stopped walking and put his hand on her arm as he turned to face her. “I mean it, Marla,” he said, “You don’t have to keep killing yourself trying to please the other vampires! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to!”

  “You don’t understand!” she said, shaking her head, “It’s not that easy, Garrett! I can’t just…”