The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  Doubt seeped into Nora’s excitement. “Well—I don’t know.”

  “Sorry, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  Nora swallowed. “It’s fine, it was just a silly thought.” She pulled her shoulders up in a shrug she hoped looked casual. She wasn’t giving up on her old friend yet, but Krey didn’t have to know that.

  One thing was sure, they needed to get moving on tonight’s goal. Nora pushed away thoughts of her old friend and knelt before a large chest. “How much should we eat?”

  Krey joined her. “You’ve been trained by master magic eaters for over a decade, and you’re asking me for advice?”

  “They’ve never taught me to do anything like what you did in Tirra.” Nora put a handful of ice chips in her mouth and began chewing. When Krey didn’t follow suit, she looked up. He was staring at her with narrowed eyes, his forehead furrowed. “What?” she asked through her mouthful of ice.

  “You getting me released last night—was that an excuse to get me to tutor you? Because you can skip the clandestine plans; I’ll teach you what I know.”

  She swallowed her ice. “You will?”

  “I suppose I owe you.”

  Nora rolled her eyes. “How kindhearted of you. But no, I didn’t do this so you’d teach me to be a better lyster. Like I said last night, I want to help you.” And now that my friend might be involved, I want it even more.

  He nodded slowly. “Okay. We’ll do this together.”

  “Great,” Nora said. “How much of this should we eat?”

  “When you’re planning to do a lot of magic, you need to ingest as much fuel as possible. Then wait a few minutes, and eat even more. Gorge yourself.”

  “My masters always told me not to overdo it. It might make me sick. That’s what my dad taught me too.”

  Krey smirked. “Nora, your father literally treats you like a pretty princess. Despite what he’s told you, you can’t overdose on fuel.” He scooped up a huge handful of ice. “Eat up.”

  “We’ll get cold eating that much ice.” She pointed to the folded blanket on one of the chests. “You can wrap up in that one, and I’ll get one from inside.” Some people thought ice lysters were immune to feeling cold. Nora wished that were true. While the ice she and Krey created couldn’t give them frostbite, the process of consuming fuel and creating ice would make them chilly.

  He grabbed the blanket. “Thanks. Make sure you’re quiet in there.”

  Once Nora was wrapped in a blanket she’d retrieved from her room, she sat next to Krey. They both ate until their stomachs were distended with ice. Nora lay back on the stone floor, her hand on her belly, groaning. “You sure we have to eat more?”

  Krey, who was leaning back against the chest, burped. “Yeah. Give it a few minutes to settle.”

  “Okay.” After a pause, Nora asked, “How’d you learn to lyst so well?”

  “My aunts collect books. They’re always on the lookout for rare books about magic eating. When I come across an idea I haven’t heard of, I try it to see if it works for me.”

  “Are you close to your aunts?”

  “They pretty much raised me.”

  Nora sat up and eyed him, but he was looking straight ahead. “What happened to your parents?”

  His jaw tightened as he took a deep breath and released it. He pushed himself to his knees, turned, and opened the chest. “We can eat a little more now.” When Nora didn’t move, he turned to her, glowering. “We’re in a hurry, you know.”

  They ate as much as they could, then left the icehouse and walked quietly to the perimeter fence at the edge of the garden. They saw a couple of caynins as they walked, but no guards.

  “Okay,” Krey whispered, “let’s both turn our magic on.”

  In the same hushed voice, Nora replied, “You mean catalyze our fuel?”

  He let out a quiet chuckle. “Whatever. Is yours on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Move all your magic into your hands. It shouldn’t be in your mouth.”

  “How exactly do you expect me to do that?”

  He let out a sigh that, while still quiet, was annoyingly dramatic. “I guess we’ll work on that skill later. Now form the first rung of the ladder right here.” He pointed to a spot on the stone fence, about half a met off the ground.

  “Um . . . okay.” She knelt and, with a thought, sent magic into her hands and mouth. A chill infiltrated her body. On a night like tonight, she’d rather be a fire lyster. Then she could make fire and enjoy its warmth without being burned.

  But this was her faculty, and right now, it was the one they needed. If she could get it to work properly. She held up her hands, her palms facing the stone. A lamppost a couple of dozen mets away shed dim light on the ice she shot from her tingling palms. The two icy streams joined to create a piece about as long as her hand and as wide as her finger, more the size of a pencil than a ladder rung. It sat in the mortar between two rows of stones before wobbling and falling to the ground.

  She looked up and realized Krey was kneeling next to her. It was too dark for her to see his expression, but his words said it all. “That was . . . small. Did you lose focus?”

  She didn’t want to tell him that, while she was good at creating snow, she’d just demonstrated the extent of her ice-making talent. “I guess,” she whispered. “I’ll try again.”

  The next attempt was worse than the first; the ladder rung she made was only fit for a bug to climb on. It immediately fell off.

  “I think I’m seeing why you wanted my help,” Krey said.

  Nora blushed, but she could hear the laughter in his voice. It was better than the disdain she’d grown used to.

  “We need to hurry,” he said, “but try one more time. I want to see what your hands are doing.”

  Nora took a deep breath and pushed her magic with all her might, tightening every muscle in her body. I’m so glad he can’t see my face. She was finishing up another pencil-sized piece of ice when Krey reached around from behind her and grabbed both her hands.

  Startled, she jerked her hands away. Her ice turned to little chips, which fell to the ground.

  Behind her, Krey coughed. She was pretty sure he was laughing again. “Sorry—should’ve warned you.”

  “It’s okay.” It was more than okay; now that Nora was over the shock, she wished he’d grab her hands and press his chest against her back again. She shook her head. Was one touch all it took to turn her into a puddle of romantic goo? I’ve got to get out more. Amazing what being starved of normal social interactions does to a girl. Maybe Krey had been right during their first garden conversation. She didn’t just need tutoring on magic; she needed tutoring on how to be a normal teenager.

  He was next to her again. “Your hands felt really tense,” he said. “We’ll work on you relaxing more, but we don’t have time tonight.”

  “I think you’d better make the ladder.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  She watched as he held his hands near the stone, just as she had. But clearly he was doing something different, because ice flowed from his palms as easily as water from a palace tap. His fingers moved a bit, guiding the shape of the ice, forming it into a perfect ladder rung, attached to the stone.

  When he started forming the next rung, she ran her fingers along the one he’d just made. It was covered in ridges so their feet wouldn’t slip. Ingenious.

  He made the upper rungs more like long handles, attached to the stone on two ends and arcing out in the middle. When he got high enough, he stood on the ice ladder, hanging on with one hand while he used the other to form rungs. At last, the ladder went all the way to the top, an impressive feat. The fence was four mets tall, as high as the one around Nora’s residence.

  He climbed down carefully to stand next to Nora. “I need to focus to keep these solid. Can you climb up and watch for the guard?”

  “Sure.” She began the climb and was instantly glad she’d chosen shoes with rugged treads. The
ice was still slippery, but her soles gripped it well. Holding onto the top rung with hands that were getting numb, she peeked through the thick coils of barbed wire atop the fence.

  A guard was approaching, lantern in hand. Nora scrambled down. She whispered in Krey’s ear, “There’s a guard about to pass us. We’ll probably have a few minutes before another one comes by.”

  Krey nodded and climbed the ladder he’d made. Nora watched him peek over the fence. As they’d discussed, he waited until the guard was distant enough not to hear them. Then he held one hand up to the barbed wire. Ice gushed from his hand, covering the wire in a thick mound. He lifted himself one step higher.

  Nora held her breath as he leaned out over the blob of ice covering the wire, extending both hands. Now that they could get to the top of the fence, he had to create a way down. Nora braced herself, one foot back, as if she could catch him if he fell.

  After about half a minute of silent work, Krey scampered up the rest of the ladder. He sat on the ice mound and dropped out of sight.

  Nora’s heart thudded in her ears. She climbed the ladder, hands shaking. The backpack she carried wasn’t that heavy, but she felt like it would send her tumbling to the ground at any moment. Somehow she made it to the top. She pulled herself into a seated position on the mound of ice.

  The fence blocked out the dim light from the garden. Beyond, the night was black. Nora held her breath and pushed herself off, trusting that Krey had succeeded in his magical mission—and that his focus was better than it had been at the event in his hometown. A fantastic thrill pulled at her gut as she went down the steep ice slide he’d made.

  As soon as she tumbled onto the cold grass, the ice slide cracked with a sound that made her cringe. Chunks crashed to the ground. Without a word, Nora began groping in the dark, grabbing the ice pieces one at a time and heaving them over the tall fence. She heard Krey doing the same. When they were about halfway done, Krey tapped her shoulder.

  Nora gasped. Far in the distance was a bouncing light. Another guard with a lantern.

  They worked even faster, throwing one block of ice after another. Each one resulted in a thud on the other side of the fence. As the guard drew closer, Nora became convinced he’d see or hear them. “We gotta go,” she whispered.

  They had a plan for this. Nora reached down, feeling around for more ice. She knew Krey was doing the same. She found two blocks and pushed them along the grassy dirt until they hit the fence. They had to make sure the guard didn’t trip over their evidence. Hopefully his lantern wouldn’t reflect off the icy chunks.

  Nora was tempted to run, but she knew she’d make too much noise and probably smash into a tree in the wooded area beyond. So she walked as briskly as she dared, hands extended, until she found a tree trunk. She secreted herself behind it, watching the lantern-wielding guard pass.

  A minute or so later, she heard Krey’s quiet voice. “You still alive?”

  She wanted to cry with relief and scream with excitement. Instead, she whispered, “Alive and free. Let’s go.”

  By the time they reached the street that ran in front of the palace, Krey was complaining of a hole in his pants, and Nora was pondering how she’d explain her scratches and bruises to Aunt Dani. They hadn’t dared light a lantern in the woods, concerned a distant guard would see it. The trees and roots hadn’t been kind to them.

  But once they turned onto the road, they were just two ordinary people taking a late-night stroll. Nora opened her backpack and retrieved a lantern. She poured in some oil from a stoppered bottle and handed the lantern to Krey, who lit it with a match. They’d agreed he should carry the lantern, keeping it as far from Nora’s face as he could.

  “Is your hood up?” Nora asked.

  “Yeah.”

  While the temperature was above freezing, it was chilly. Nora pulled the drawstring of her hood, thankful for the warmth and relative anonymity it provided.

  They walked so fast, they were almost jogging. Krey led them through the rural outskirts of Cellerin City, then into the city itself.

  “Are we almost there?” Nora asked after they’d made several turns.

  “Getting close.”

  Halfway down the next street, Krey extinguished the lantern. They walked in silence. Once Nora’s eyes adjusted, starlight provided a little illumination.

  “It’s the next house,” Krey whispered. They crept around to the back door. He tried the handle. “Locked.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “I have this thin metal piece that might get us in—if there’s no deadbolt.”

  “You have a lot of experience breaking into houses?”

  “None at all. I read a lot of books.”

  Again, Nora could hear his smile. Her breaths grew shallow as he used his tool, which seemed extraordinarily loud in the silence of the residential street. After a few seconds, the knob turned, and the door squeaked as Krey pushed it open.

  They tiptoed in, and Krey locked the door. Nora wondered if he could hear her heart’s urgent beat. The house was completely dark.

  “Take my hand,” Krey said.

  This time, the touch of his hand didn’t stir any desire in Nora, but she savored the physical reminder that she wasn’t alone. They walked carefully through the room and soon reached a wall. An opening led them to the next room, and they felt their way along its walls.

  “This is wrong,” Krey soon whispered.

  “Shh.”

  “No, listen. This house was crammed full of stuff last time I was here. We shouldn’t be able to take a step without running into something.”

  “That’s weird.”

  Nora and Krey kept walking and soon turned into a hallway. There were two open doors, one on each side.

  Krey spoke softly, so close to Nora that his breath tickled her ear. “You go right. I’ll go left.” He let go of her hand.

  Nora entered the room and walked along its entire perimeter, encountering no furniture. She met Krey back in the hallway.

  “Nothing,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Me, either.” His voice, now a normal volume, made Nora jump.

  She heard him rummaging around. The distinctive sound of a match strike was followed immediately by the light of a flame. Krey lit the lantern and returned the matches to his pocket.

  He was shaking his head, his mouth tight and forehead furrowed. “I suppose you think I was lying, and now you’re done with all this.”

  She reached out and took the lantern, then walked back to the front room. The light illuminated the door, a grimy window, and a room empty of all but a few pieces of trash. The place felt like it could be the setting of a thriller novel.

  Nora turned back to Krey. “I know you’re not lying.” She grinned. “And we’re just getting started.”

  10

  I came home from school one day, bawling. Dad must have seen my shaking shoulders from the field where he was planting, because he ran and picked me up before I reached the front door.

  “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

  I told him one of my friends had said he and Mom were snobs because they were leaders in our community.

  Dad laughed, then held me close. “If they knew how often I wish someone else was leading, they might see things differently.”

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  Krey gritted his teeth. This entire stupid adventure—gorging themselves on ice, making a ladder and slide, breaking into a house—was all pointless.

  “Did you hear me?” Nora’s waving hand caught Krey’s attention. “I said I’m still in.”

  He stared at her, wishing the lantern was closer to her face so he could determine what she was really thinking.

  She placed her free hand on her hip. “Why are you glaring at me?”

  “I’m glaring because I’m not getting any closer to finding my girlfriend. I’m looking at you because I’m wondering . . . who are you trying to find? Zeisha or your friend?”

  She
looked away, confirming his hunch that she still thought her friend had been abducted. “Does it matter?” she murmured.

  “It might! If you find out your friend is truly enjoying her new life with her family in Newland, will you decide none of this is worth it? Maybe you’ll go tell your father all about how I broke into the records hall and sneaked you out of the palace?”

  “What the hell, Krey? I’ve been supporting you for the past week, and I didn’t even figure out that Faylie might be involved until tonight! Is it that hard for you to believe I want to help you?”

  “Yep.”

  Her voice rose in pitch and volume. “I want to help because if I were missing, I’d want people to look for me. And I was serious when I told you I needed to get out of the palace. Call me shallow, but you have no idea what it’s like to be locked up in that place with my aunt and an orsa as my only two friends!” Krey responded with a cynical shake of his head, and Nora huffed. “By the orange sky above, don’t you trust anyone?”

  “Sure. But not royals.”

  “Why?”

  He shifted his gaze away from her. “We need to look around, see if we can find anything.”

  Nora sighed. “Fine.”

  She sat the lantern in the middle of the small room and walked the perimeter, examining pieces of trash then dropping them. Krey did the same. It didn’t take long to determine there was nothing useful in the room.

  “Bedrooms?” Nora asked.

  “Yeah.” Krey took the lantern and led her to the bedroom on the right. It was empty.

  They were searching the bedroom on the left, which faced the front of the house, when someone started pounding on the front door. Nora and Krey cursed in unison.