Frost Burn

by K T Munson

“What is it?” he asked as the quake subsided.

  “By the Goddess,” she whispered before looking at him. “It’s a wave.” And it would soon engulf their wall of snow and ice entirely; and they were heading straight toward it. She’d never seen such a swell, and she imagined it was like the one that had taken out the palace at the Fire Nation’s island. Darha had told Queen Vesna about it on one of their visits. She’d warned them it might happen to them.

  “Get us out of here,” Tallus yelled to his father.

  Before he could turn back, Aradel put a hand up and yelled, “No. Go faster, we have to get there.”

  “What are you doing?” Tallus asked.

  She looked back at him as she gripped the front of the sled and stood. “Saving lives.”

  “You are Queen now! You must be protected!” Yorten yelled. “But I will not disobey your orders.”

  When they reached the temporary camp set up for Vesna’s services, Queen Darha and her brother were already running to get back into a sled. Prince Coor himself took the reins of the wolves, ordering their terrified driver to stay at the camp.

  Aradel’s advisors rushed out toward her, calling for her to stop. But she knew what they would say, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. “Slow down,” Aradel commanded. Yorten slowed the sled to a near stop.

  “You must come to safety,” Lord Wiss called, reaching an arm toward her as though to beckon her down.

  “Queen Aradel, it is not safe!” Lady Nanra called as she came within range.

  Aradel hesitated for a split second, but she saw on Queen Darha’s face a determined look as Coor snapped the reins and their sleigh sped off. That was the expression of a true queen. Terrified but resolute.

  Scanning the faces of the men and women of her council, she yelled, “I am Queen, and my duty is to protect. Not run and hide.” They seemed startled as she declared her intent.

  Without looking back at them, put her hands on the front of the sleigh, and gazed over Yorten’s shoulder toward the impending wave. They still called after her, begging her to stay, but Yorten snapped the reins without a word of command from her.

  She looked up at Tallus standing next to her. “You should go before the sleigh gains speed.”

  His curly hair was pulled nearly straight by the wind, and his blue eyes danced with admiration. He curled his fingers around hers, and she didn’t pull back. It felt completely natural to have the comfort of his hand on hers.

  He smiled at her in the same unassuming fashion, but his eyes were serious as he spoke. “I will not let you face this alone.”

  She nodded her head because words could not express how much she appreciated it. That with him by her side, she felt more confident, more powerful. They stared into each other’s eyes before they came alongside Queen Darha and Prince Coor’s sled. When she looked to Queen Darha, she found the woman pale in the face of the approaching wave.

  “What’s your plan?” Queen Darha called as she stood and gripped the sled behind her brother.

  “I am going to turn it into to snow. It should crash against The Wall but not break it apart,” Aradel called back.

  “Are you crazy?” Prince Coor called. “It’s too big! There’s no way you can do that!”

  “I am and I can,” she assured them as Tallus tightened his fingers around hers reassuringly. “I just need to get closer.”

  “I can help with that,” Darha yelled. Her brother glanced back at her, confused.

  Queen Darha closed her eyes, and the ground beneath their sleds started to shake again. For a moment Aradel thought it was another quake, but then a massive bubble of hot orange lava started to push its way up from the ground just inside of The Wall. Coor’s mouth dropped open. Aradel tried not to laugh at his expression, as the hill stopped rising just a hairsbreadth short of the top of the Frost Nation’s magnificent ice wall. Apparently, his sister had a few tricks up her sleeve that even he was not aware of. Queen Darha snatched her hands backward, and the burning lava cooled into a smooth, dark brown stone hill.

  Aradel lifted her arms and cast snow over it so she could glide easily to the top. Then she cast ice magic, creating a bridge from the tall hill, to the top of The Wall. She intentionally only made the bridge wide enough for one sleigh.

  “Go to your people!” Aradel called, looking over at the neighboring sled.

  She saw that Queen Darha was going to argue, but before she could, Aradel threw up a wall of ice not far in front of Darha’s sled, forcing Coor to yank the reins hard to the left, turning the wolves away from it before they crashed. She knew Darha would be angry, but then she would realize Aradel was right. They couldn’t be anywhere near that massive pile of snow. It was deadly for them, and the further away they were the better.

  She gave them only one sparing glance as her sleigh began the ascent up the hill. When they reached the top, and left the hill to dash across Aradel’s bridge of ice, she saw that the wave was nearly to shore. It was starting to turn over itself, and would soon crash, likely taking their precious wall with it.

  She looked at Tallus, and he returned her stare. She couldn’t hide the fact that he meant something to her, but she didn’t know how to express it either.

  He seemed to sense her intent. Without a word, he lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. His eyes were serious as he said, “Amaze me.”

  Aradel smiled. He let go of her hand just as Yorten turned the sleigh to run along the top of The Wall. With the moon peals glowing brightly, she faced the incoming wave, and lifted her arms. The wind pulled at her sleeves and dress, and her braided hair snapped against her back. Forgetting everything else, she focused her full intent upon the wave, and let her magic fly.

  Fire/Frost: Chapter Thirty

  The group approaching was considerably smaller than the one that had left for the Frost Nation. In one way, Ekil was glad to see such a small group because it allowed him to feel less annoyed for his own diminished numbers. But this few returning meant they had to have failed. The royal families still lived.

  Tulya was not among them. How interesting.

  “Your numbers are quite diminished,” he said to Maris.

  “Yours don’t look much better,” a Frost woman answered as if he’d been speaking to her.

  He slowly turned his head, regarding her as plainly as he could. “I hadn’t counted on a Frost Knight taking control of a hail storm and turning my army into a target range.”

  “Yeah? Well we hadn’t counted on your Queen creating a fire hurricane that took out over three quarters of our army in one shot.”

  Ekil’s scars began to burn. He knew exactly what she was talking about because he’d been a victim of that same kind of magic, Wild Fire. The Wild Fire that Queen Berselis had summoned had won the day for the Fire Nation royalty—and had deformed him for life. Ekil absently ran his finger down his cheek; he hated magic users.

  “Where is Tulya?” he asked Maris.

  A dark expression came over his face. “She ran,” he answered. “She used magic to protect herself, and then she ran.”

  “So she was a magic user,” Ekil said.

  He had guessed so the second she stepped into his living room during their first meeting. She’d had the faint, freshly fallen snow smell to her that all frost wielders had. He just hadn’t been sure if it was her, or the guards that had escorted her. Either way, he’d figured she’d come in handy—a magic user that hated magic users. Besides, of late, Ekil wasn’t beneath joining forces with magic wielders if they had the same aim and purpose. But what good was the woman if she failed? Not only had she failed at eliminating the Fire Nation royalty, but she was a coward.

  “You suspected?” Maris asked, surprise in his voice.

  “From the beginning,” Ekil said.

  “And you didn’t tell me?” Maris demanded with subtle fury in his voice.

  Ekil stared at him. “It wasn’t necessary.”

  “The hell it wasn’t!” Maris countered. “Sh
e never should have—”

  “Shh,” Ekil said, bringing his finger up to his lips. Maris fell silent instantly, swallowing back his words in a gulp of fear. “I said it wasn’t necessary,” Ekil replied slowly in a tone of finality.

  “So where are we going?” Porva asked flatly from behind him. Ekil turned and lowered his gaze to where she sat on the ground against a rock. “There’s nowhere to go now with the Fire Nation royalty still kicking. I know Prince Coor, and he will hunt every last one of us down until there is nothing left. In case you missed the part where your frost tramp failed to kill him, he’s very resourceful, smart and clearly—given that he’s still married to Thea—unreasonably stubborn.”

  Ekil reached down to grasp her chin in his fingers. She shied away just slightly in fear. Ekil could kill her. A big part of him wanted to; she was a magic user. But her time would come soon. For now, he would satisfy himself with another’s blood.

  “We live to fight another day, my dear,” he replied almost seductively.

  He straightened and gazed out over what he could see of his beloved Fire Nation. He would save it. He knew in his bones he would rule someday, someday soon. Then he would wipe the very memory of the magic users from the face of the planet.

  “We live to fight another day,” he said again. “But first we take care of all traitors.”

  Tulya felt like she was being hunted, and she was streetwise enough to know not to ignore a feeling like that. It was safer to travel at night where no one would recognize her as she slipped through the nearly deserted town of Seville, just outside The Wall. The moonlight mostly lit her way, but her feet knew the rest. She would have to stay here until she could think of somewhere better to hide. Luckily, she had a home here, and it meant sanctuary.

  Eyes peered out at her as she slipped past houses with people in them who wouldn’t leave The Outlands, despite the recent warmth. Tulya pulled the hood of her cloak tighter around her head and tried not to grimace in discomfort. This place was worse than sad because it was mostly abandoned. If they survived the disasters, she could start again here, though. She would have to find a way to darken her hair, but she could make a life, far enough away that Aradel and Ekil couldn’t find her.

  She turned down an alley, and was nearly to the end when she heard something. Whirling around, she searched, but there was nothing behind her. She took a few fearful steps backwards before quickly spinning and running the last bit of distance to the house.

  The two-story stone building had horse stables around the side that had caved in from the quakes. There were cracks in the foundation, and a few of the walls, but it was whole enough. She pulled out an old key and shoved it into the lock as her hands shook. It finally clicked, and she nearly broke the key when she pushed the door open. Yanking it loose, she ran inside and slammed the door behind her. Breathing heavily, she locked it again and leaned her back against it. Her breathing eventually slowed, but the adrenaline would take longer to quiet.

  Swallowing her fear as best she could, Tulya stepped into the room, and something punched into her gut.

  She gasped from the pain she now felt there. Stumbling backwards slightly, her mind tried to catch up with what was happening. She managed to look up, and saw the scarred face of Ekil at the other end of his sword. He jerked the blade out, and she stumbled backward again before turning down the hall in a feeble escape attempt. Her hand went to her abdomen as her legs tried to carry her to safety.

  “So, you thought you could run?” Ekil asked.

  She staggered, knocking over a hallway table in an attempt to stay on her feet, but the blood loss was swift, and she fell against a bench. She tried to blink the haze from her eyes as he slowly came toward her. Her eyes went wide as she stumbled through the dark house again, trying to get away. Her legs quickly lost feeling. Unable to support her, she fell onto her stomach on the floor.

  His footsteps were closing in on her, and he eventually crouched by her head. The bloody blade hung between his knees, as she desperately tried to pull herself away from him. Watching her futile attempt, she knew he was laughing inside.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve skinned a magic user. Near thirty years at least,” he said while he let the tip of the blade twirl around on his thumb.

  She forgot about anything but getting away and pulled herself along the floor again, and he laughed at her.

  “Where are you going? We were just getting started.”

  She kept pulling herself along the floor, clutching at the walls to put any amount of space between her and him. His merciless grip suddenly clamped down on her ankle, and he dragged her from the hallway back to the front room. She dug her nails into the floor to try and stop him, but the smooth stone offered no grip.

  The moonlight was bright in here, and she could see his scars better, as well as the terrifying smile on his lips. She realized this wasn’t just about revenge; he was enjoying himself.

  “Oh Goddess,” she whispered.

  “The Gods aren’t here,” he said, lifting a hand and allowing the silver moonlight to dance across his fingers. “I love the look of blood under the moon. It looks almost black.”

  Tulya felt a deep primal need well up inside of her, and with it came ice. It spread out from under her, coating the ground, and an ice shield snapped up around her body. Ekil turned his eyes down to look at her, and she was unnerved by his calmness.

  He went over and crouched next to a pack on the floor she hadn’t noticed before. “That won’t do,” he said. “We’ve only just begun.”

  The ice spread further out and around her as her fear rose. He lifted something out of the pack, a glass jar with a strange lid. There was some sort of liquid at the bottom, but it was hard to see in the moonlight. She kept the ice shield firmly around her, knowing it would only buy her a few more minutes. She needed to figure out a way to get on the offensive.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked, as though he was a professor teaching a class.

  “No,” she finally managed.

  Ekil came toward her again. “It’s a highly complex chemical compound which, if you aren’t very careful, can melt your face off.” Tulya started to tremble. “It originates, however, in volcanic gas.” He tapped the jar with the tip of his fingernail. “Capture enough of the gas, eventually it condensates on the glass, and we can process it and store it”—he smiled menacingly— “for situations just like this.” Tulya’s breath sped up in terror. “I was going to use it on Queen Darha, but this as a much better idea.”

  Her eyes widened and she started to try to push herself away from him. “No,” she whispered as tears blurred her vision.

  “Oh yes,” he said, opening the jar.

  “Please,” she whispered, pushing herself back.

  “There is no room in this world for mercy,” he said, walking toward her. “There is only room for the strong.” Then he dumped the entire jar on her.

  Her screams filled the night air, and those in the shadows cringed inside their homes, covering their ears. They didn’t want to hear the destructive force of sulfuric acid as a woman died in agony.

  Frost: Chapter Thirty-One

  Kirill had never thought he would be so happy to see a volcano. The island of Rask was basically one huge volcano that took up the entire horizon for at least forty miles. The summit itself had to be eight miles high! It was the thing he’d ever seen—and over the last several days, he had seen quite a few large volcanic islands which made up the Fire Nation’s entire northern shore. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him now. This was the monster that threatened to end his world, and now he could see why.

  Smoke and steam billowed out of the top of the cone, and Kirill found he was anxious to throw the iceberg down the shoot and cool this beast as quickly as possible. The worst part of watching Thea and her two companions climb it was that this terror was in his face the entire time, rumbling and threatening everyone he loved and cared for.

  From the
northern edge of the iceberg, he had watched Fitzu, Dorsh, and Thea work their way up the side of the volcano for the past two days. They were just now reaching the crater at the top. Once they figured out which part he should bring the iceberg to, Thea would send a signal, and then he would fly this massive pain in the ass over to the volcano. Once it was in and this was over, they would pat each other on the back and sail home. Soon, this would all be a very distant nightmare.

  At least that’s what Kirill told himself.

  He looked through the telescope again and watched Thea as she hiked the mountain. She had her strength back after the battle a week earlier when he’d thought he had been done for. Saving Thea would have been worth it, though— as long as she had figured out a way to get the iceberg to the volcano.

  Perhaps all of this wasn’t a nightmare.

  He didn’t like to admit it, but she had been right to be angry with him for taking control of that hail storm. He’d definitely lost his composure when he thought she was in danger. It was weird, given how they had started out. They had once been at each other’s throats, but now they were some sort of strange friends. At first, Kirill thought he’d been coming around because Thea reminded him of Aradel. But he realized it was because Thea was like him.

  During the last week heading toward Rask, Thea had spent most of her time on the iceberg with him rather than down on the ships. Two nights ago, over the small campfire that was constantly between them, Thea had joked that she stayed up there in case he needed more babying while transporting the iceberg. Kirill had countered that he didn’t mind because he needed to make sure the “kraken slayer” didn’t do anything else insane that would get her killed. Laughter had become common between them and Kirill had grown to like her very much. She was powerful and stubborn and had a temper that rivaled his. He got her jokes and she got his. Had they been born on the same side of the river, he had no doubt they would have been an inseparable pair of troublemakers. She wasn’t like Aradel, who was a sister to him; she was a friend, a comrade in arms, and his equal. It had only taken facing a mountain of obstacles with her for him to see it.