Frostbound Throne: Court of Sin Book Two: Song of Winter

by Sage, May

  Vale had been right. She had no clue how to use his gift, but the focus Styx had given her helped; she thought of Vale and nothing else, expanding her mind, eyes closed, trying to scan her surroundings. Below, left, right, down…

  There he was. Under her, somewhere to her left. She recognized his presence. Devi bit her lip and reached out.

  To her surprise, it was easier than she’d expected. Almost as soon as she tried to communicate with him, his mind opened to her, as if there had been a bond she’d just needed to tug on.

  “Where are you?” she asked, cutting to the chase as she was unsure how long she’d be able to pull that off in her state.

  “Dungeons. One guard in front of me, another two at the door. How are you?”

  Only three people against Vale. Rook was far too cocky and sure of his device.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Gonna try something. Don’t die.”

  She opened her mind up to her ice and tried to direct it the way she had earlier. She thought it was worth a try, at least. Though she was used to relying on contact or at least visual connection to use her powers, there really was a solid link between her and Vale right now; she concentrated on that connection and did her best to visualize Vale. He was sitting up on a cot, one leg folded, the other extended, with his hand resting on his lap. Devi fixed her mind on the metal restraints around his wrists. The lit screen in the middle displayed the picture of a closed lock. She zapped the bindings with small doses of ice and watched through Vale’s eyes as they turned light blue, then white, as if covered in fresh snow. Soon, the restraints were covered in ice. Vale tugged on his wrists, and the metal cracked just as someone pounded on the bathroom door.

  Devi let go of the connection and went to open the door. She found the female guard waiting, obviously irritated, with her lips pursed and narrowed eyes.

  “Can’t a lady freshen up in peace?”

  “You weren’t. The tap isn’t running and you’re dressed. What are you up to?” the Corantian demanded.

  Devi opened her mouth to answer, but a cold breeze swept into the room, and the next instant, the guard’s head cracked against the wall. Devi winced, then smiled at Vale. “What took you so long?”

  “No time. Come.”

  “Not without the horses.”

  “They’re waiting,” he replied, before kicking the closest floor-to-ceiling window open and grabbing her hand.

  Devi leaped out of the opening without hesitation and landed painfully on a crouch. A one-floor drop shouldn’t have hurt quite so much, but she was drained.

  The horses were right before them. Vale rushed onto Midnight’s back and offered her his hand again; Alarik couldn’t be mounted yet, not with his injury still healing. She took his hand gratefully and let him hoist her onto the horse behind him. Then the dyrmounts rode at full speed through the snowy road and up a steep hill.

  “How much of a head start do we have?” she asked.

  An arrow flew past her ear. She hadn’t even heard it.

  “About twenty seconds, apparently,” Vale replied. “And I don’t have our weapons or any of our supplies.”

  Great. Perfect, in fact.

  “So, we’re screwed,” she summarized.

  Vale laughed. “I think not!”

  She had been about to ask in what universe weren’t they screwed when Vale pulled on the horse’s reins to halt its course and turned to watch dozens of their former captors rush toward them by foot, horseback, or wings.

  Had he lost his fucking mind?

  The ground shook under Midnight and lightning bolts zapped across the sky. A blizzard lowered onto the hill, and all the snow slid down toward the enemy. After lightning struck the first flying scion, the others landed, and now either fled downhill, away from Devi and Vale, or erected shields to protect themselves from the wrath of three elements.

  An avalanche, a storm, and an earthquake.

  “You’ve borrowed my powers for an hour and you’re already better at controlling them than I am,” Devi lamented with a sigh. “But I guess a thank-you is in order.”

  “The only thing in order for you is sleep. Come, move to the front so I can carry you.”

  Only a fortnight had passed since she’d declared she couldn’t sleep on horseback. Now, cradled between Vale’s strong arms, she passed out within mere instants.

  The moment Devi destroyed the bindings sapping his energy, his strength was restored, but to get out of his cell and break them out of the manor, Vale used up most of his energy. He considered halting, but opted against it. Now, more than ever, getting to the Court of Stars fast was paramount. Rook would be on their trail in a matter of hours, if not sooner.

  He rode as fast as he could with Devi in his arms, avoiding all towns and settlements. Seven hours later, the sleeping beauty stirred; by then, he’d covered half of their journey.

  “Rise and shine, sleepy,” he whispered.

  She moaned, reluctant to admit she was awake. He understood that feeling completely, but they had no time for it. “Come on, lazy. The horses need a break.”

  As did he. Devi opened her eyes and straightened. Vale missed her warmth against his chest.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Morning,” she repeated groggily. “Where are we?”

  “About two days south from Staren, and perhaps six hours away from Stormhale, the Court of Stars. We’re approaching a village. I don’t feel anything alarming emanating from it, but it could mean we’re facing someone with powers greater than mine, as well as the opposite of mine, north of the borders. Still, we have to risk stopping.”

  She wrinkled her pretty nose. “Do we?”

  Vale nodded. “It’s essential. I’m not well known in these parts, but these clothes are recognizable. We’ll need to change if we want to blend in at Stormhale.”

  She sighed. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind new clothes, but it’ll pain me to remove the maille.”

  “We’ll search for something to put over it, if we can.” He didn’t like the thought of shedding their defenses either. “Time for Naelynn and Ruven Norfiel to come out and play again.”

  “All right, but don’t make me pregnant this time,” she said. “I don’t want to have to buy maternity clothes to keep up the ruse.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll change our appearances now. Let us hope the fates decide we’ve had enough ill fortune for one day.”

  The fates concurred, as the trip to the small hamlet of Gyl-Elworth was fruitful and devoid of incident. Having left their bags back at Low Crest, Vale had little resources, but Devi again came to the rescue.

  “Thankfully, my father’s folks recalled I like pockets. The coat has two, and my pants have four.”

  She’d stuffed her pockets with various things; she had to remove three flasks, the healing charm covered in dried red blood she’d used on Alarik, and many such things until she found a purse with gold. Not much, but enough for cloaks, warmer boots, food, drinks, and care for the horses.

  They stuck to the story of the Norfiels from the south who wished to find refuge with relatives, and the people of Gyl-Elworth looked no further.

  “I certainly do not blame you in such troubled times. May you go in peace,” they said.

  Listening and reading between the lines, Vale noted that the common folk of Corantius were as worried about the fate of the realm as the seelie they’d encountered. They’d heard of the war in the south, and though the south was far, war was never good for simple fae such as they.

  Vale and Devi spent two hours in town; Vale sat at a dining table in an inn, regrouping whatever energy he could in such circumstances. He would have loved to sleep, but they could not afford such luxury now, so they were on their way by nightfall.

  Devi healed Alarik a second time; with rest and her help, he was good as new for the second leg of their journey. They rode faster now that she was on her own horse, and they reached the edge of the city in five hours.

  Vale and Devi stared wor
dlessly at the tall, translucent dome on the horizon, and inside it was a golden castle, its walls higher than the peaks of Carvenstone.

  Devi broke the silence. “Looks like the Duke of Stormhale is compensating for something.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Whispers and Pleas

  They arrived in the middle of the night, dressed in their new finery. Devi wore a red and white cloak over her maille and over-the-knee boots that served to hide most of the garments she wore under the Corantian clothes.

  She liked the boots, and Vale had eyed them with keen interest. She couldn’t deny his look had pleased her.

  “So how do you propose we break into Stormhale’s place? The dome—it’s an energy wall, right?”

  Vale nodded carefully. “I recall your father saying the Stormhales exhibit their treasures, however.”

  “A museum open to all Corantians,” Elden had said. If he’d been right, they had a way in, at least.

  “You’re a scion, and I’m something close to it, and with these clothes, we look like Corantians, so maybe entering their domain will be easy enough.”

  That wasn’t much of a plan to go on. For one, they also needed a way out.

  “I say we spend the night at an inn in town and play tourists?” she suggested. “We could ask questions, and you could rest.”

  Vale shook his head. “Staying in a small village was one thing, but we cannot assume I won’t be recognized in a city. There are too many high fae and scions who might have seen me when I came to Corantius a few centuries ago. As for my illusions, they’ll be useless against anyone of consequence. It’s too risky.”

  He had a point.

  “Well, they might recognize you, but no one knows me. I could go and ask questions.”

  Devi could tell he loathed that suggestion. Somehow, their bond was still solid; she felt his mind brushing up against hers, and his power still flowed through her.

  Despite the fact that she could hear his thoughts vehemently arguing against it, he carefully nodded. “It’s the best solution. You can do the talking, and I can act like a monk or perhaps a servant. But you can’t book a room with unseelie coin.”

  “I have coins from all three realms in my purse,” she replied.

  Devi had found it odd until today, but the elves must have been thinking ahead, anticipating their needing Corantian money across the border.

  “Perfect.”

  Vale removed all his finery, from his maille to his boots, placing it all in a bag they’d bought at Gyl-Elworth. He kept his newly acquired cloak, lowering the hood over his eyes, and wore only his shirt and breeches beneath.

  “How cold are you?”

  “Very fucking cold,” he grunted. “Words can’t express how much I regret having left the damn blackfire stone at Low Crest.”

  Devi tried her hand at sending warmth through the bond.

  Vale sighed in delight. “Thank you. I forgot. I might have been able to do that myself.”

  She frowned, musing out loud, “Strange that we’re still channeling each other. It didn’t last long the first time.”

  Vale made no reply, but he was hiding something. She could tell. His mind had shut down, keeping her out.

  She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Nothing I wish to discuss. Trust me, I’ll tell you when I can, but we can’t afford the distraction.”

  She was intrigued and frustrated, but she let it go.

  Many inns populated the main street alone; all had signs at the front, with their prices and food options displayed. Devi examined a few; while her purse was heavy with coin, most of it was seelie and unseelie. She didn’t want to waste what little Corantian money she had on her.

  Her indecision was also calculated. If anyone was observing her, they’d see a tourist shopping around like any other innocent traveler.

  She settled on a modest but busy inn that served food day and night. Inside the cheery establishment, Devi saw a merry group of scions at the bar, all in various stages of drunkenness.

  “Hey there, pretty lass! How can Vera help?” a small, beautiful, and buxom lady with green hair greeted her.

  The place was called Vera’s Roof, so she was apparently talking to its owner.

  “I would like a suite, with a bed for my male servant next door, if it’s available.”

  The sign had shown the pricing for such a setup.

  “Aye, it’s available. No one coming here ever has the coin for that room!” Vera laughed, then turned to Vale. “You, boy!”

  Devi hid her smile. When was the last time anyone had addressed Vale like that?

  “The stables are left of the inn. Take the service entrance and pop by the kitchen on your way up. The staff will give you meals to take up to the suite. They’re included in the rate.” She turned her attention back to Devi. “We take payment in advance for strangers.”

  She’d prepared the right amount of coin, plus an extra one to engender goodwill; she gave it to the innkeeper.

  Vera gave her a toothy smile before calling to her staff, “Jeryn! Come here, girl.”

  The “girl” in question was also an adult. Friendly as she was to Devi, Vera was awfully condescending to her staff.

  “Take the lady to the suite upstairs for me, then see that her boy doesn’t get lost at the back, hmm?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jeryn led the way in silence.

  The suite was large, elegant, and tastefully decorated, at least compared to the last bedroom she’d stepped into. There was a sitting area with a chaise longue, an armchair, and a low table next to a fireplace; a liqueur cabinet, a writing desk, and a door leading to a bedroom with white and yellow furnishing. Someone had picked wildflowers and put them in vases on both bedside tables.

  “Will this do, ma’am?”

  “Very well, miss. It’s a lovely room. I love the flowers.”

  Jeryn blushed.

  “You brought them up?” Devi guessed.

  The female nodded. “Aye, ma’am. I think they cheer the room right up. There aren’t enough flowers in the city. Too much pollution, what with them cars up in the castle.”

  Devi lifted a brow and repeated, “Cars?”

  She knew what they were, but people had ceased to use them long ago to protect the environment. Only a few vehicles remained, powered by sunlight rather than finite resources.

  Jeryn looked down. “The Duke of Stormhale has several. Old ones, you know. The ones that run on petrol. He has a race every other day up in his tracks.”

  The conversation couldn’t have flown in a better direction.

  “How extravagant. I hear the duke is very much into treasures. Is it true he opens his doors to strangers who may wish to gaze upon them?”

  Jeryn nodded fervently. “Strangers, aye, ma’am. Not the likes of me or any common blood—but it’s plain enough there’s blue or gold in your veins, so no doubt they’ll let you in.”

  All right. Apparently, the duke was a jackass, and any guilt Devi had felt at the thought of stealing from him had evaporated.

  “I think I might try my luck,” Devi said.

  Vale appeared at the top of the stairs, holding a tray of food.

  There were two servings; the same food, but one meal was exquisitely presented on beautiful plates, while the other was served in a wooden bowl.

  Devi made a disgusted moue.

  “Do they treat the common folk well here?” she asked Jeryn, curious.

  The female looked around and lowered her voice. “As well as anywhere in these lands, miss. You know what it’s like. Us fae aren’t the same as you gods. We don’t have the same rights and all. It wasn’t all that bad under the overking ’cause he said, ‘No torture, no blood, no bruises!’ And so the servants were treated fairly well. Now he’s dead, though…” She closed her eyes. “We can only hope the next king is a decent fellow. They say the bastard prince might claim the throne.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “And I hope he does, ma’am. That I do. I
’d take a bastard treated like us over a pampered prince any day.”

  Devi smiled. “I hope he does, too. Thank you, Jeryn.”

  Jeryn gave a small and awkward curtsy before heading to the door. “I wish all them lords were as nice and polite as you, lady. You don’t even talk down to the likes of me.”

  And then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

  Twenty-Nine

  End of an Age

  Vale was not surprised by the state of affairs in Corantius. Why would he be? High fae preyed on the weak, and high fae were the creatures of scions and enlightened. The beautiful, sweet girl who would have had a thousand suitors south of these lands was little more than a slave here.

  They say the bastard prince might come and claim the throne… and I hope he does.

  Was she alone in thinking that? Or was he the secret hope of many oppressed fae like her? Vale understood why Devi had been so uncomfortable with the river folk. Having such trust and hope put on his shoulders was overwhelming.

  “I can’t believe these people,” Devi grunted, grabbing the wooden bowl and attacking the mashed potatoes and meat pie that smelled succulent before she even sat down. “What a hypocritical bitch! Vera was smiling at me and barking orders at you and that poor fae like you were—”

  “Shush,” Vale interrupted. “I didn’t mind. It certainly put things in perspective.”

  Vale had never snapped at the help, but now, he’d make a point to always treat them with respect.

  He sat next to Devi and started to eat.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” she offered. “I’ve slept more than you of late.”

  “Thank you. You were talking of the duke’s keep when I got to the stairs?”