The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “Those big ears have a purpose, you know,” Nora said. “He heard you shouting, so he protected me. Yes, he likes you, but he’s been loyal to me for seventeen years.” She turned to the animal and rubbed his head, then pointed. “Go.” He loped away.

  “It’s not like I was attacking you.” Krey sat on the bench, still rubbing his chest.

  Nora sat next to him. “It felt like you were.”

  He turned to her, his eyes wide. “What?”

  “You were yelling at me! And your eyes, they were . . . enraged!”

  “I told you, you weren’t the one I was mad at.”

  “I couldn’t tell the difference.”

  He fixed his gaze on the pond. After several seconds, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  It wasn’t the most eloquent apology ever, but she got the feeling those two words meant a lot coming from him. “Thanks.” She took a deep breath. “Listen, I still want to get into Sharai’s office, but I don’t know how. I need your help.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I never dreamed a princess would ask me for help.”

  “You know, being royalty doesn’t make us a different species. We’re just people.”

  He met her gaze. “I almost believe it about you. The jury’s still out on your dad and aunt.”

  She sighed. “I’ll take what I can get. So . . . any ideas?”

  “We’ll have to sneak into her office.”

  “Because it went so well the first time you sneaked in somewhere?”

  “I didn’t say it was a good idea. It’s just all we’ve got. The offices will be empty on Anyari Day, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then all we need is the keys.”

  “Where are we supposed to get keys, Krey?”

  The corner of his mouth rose, and he looked across the pond.

  Nora followed his gaze to the guardhouse. “Ovrun won’t help you again. Not after the records hall.”

  “Maybe not . . . but he’d help you.”

  Nora spun to face him. “I’m not asking him for anything!”

  Krey’s eyebrow quirked up. “You’re blushing.”

  “My cheeks are just cold!” As she said it, warmth spread to her neck and ears.

  “The princess is afraid of the lowly commoner she kissed. Now this is interesting.” There was laughter in Krey’s eyes.

  Nora reached down, grabbed a handful of snow, and ate it. She catalyzed it, welcoming the chill it brought to her face, then blew snow at Krey’s face. This is not a conversation I want to have, she thought.

  Krey chuckled. “I know you don’t want to have this conversation.”

  She gaped at him.

  “Can you think of a better way to get keys?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Then come on. I’ll walk with you, and we’ll see if he’s working.”

  The only argument Nora could think of was Please, please don’t make me face the hot guy I kissed. She knew that wouldn’t work.

  She stood. “I’ll go alone.”

  Ovrun was in the guardhouse with two coworkers when someone knocked on the door. He looked in the peephole and immediately drew in a sharp breath. Ignoring the queries from the other guards, he opened the door and performed a bow, holding out both hands and dipping his head. “Your Highness.”

  The princess gestured for him to lower his hands. When he did, she stammered, “Would you—would you like to go on an orsa ride?”

  His mouth dropped open. “Uh . . . sure. Let me see if I can take a break.”

  From behind him, his shift supervisor said, “It’s fine, Ovrun.”

  Laughter in his voice, the other guard said, “You might wanna get your coat first, unless you have other plans for staying warm.”

  Nora’s smooth, light-brown cheeks darkened with a blush. Ovrun glared at the two grinning guards as he bundled up. When he returned to the door, Nora extended a hand. He reached out for it, then realized she was beckoning for him to exit, not offering to hold his hand. He shoved both hands in his pockets. Smooth, Ovrun.

  They walked to the stable, having a single, brief conversation about the weather. As a groom saddled Blue and another orsa, Ovrun said, “Thanks for asking me to do this, Your Highness.”

  “I’ve told you, call me Nora.” She briefly met his gaze, then looked down at her feet.

  After an awkward silence, they had yet another discussion about the snow. Ovrun pointed out the salmon-and-scarlet sunset, but Nora barely glanced at it. She was shifting on her feet and chewing a nail, like she wanted to be anywhere in the world but there with him. Why did she ask me to ride?

  The groom emerged with the orsas. Nora and Ovrun mounted and set off at a slow pace. Even in profile and with her hood up, Nora was beautiful. Ovrun tried not to stare too much at the curve of her lips, but his eyes kept wandering there.

  He squeezed the reins tighter. We’re nineteen and seventeen years old. We should be able to have an adult conversation about how we feel. He wet his lips and spoke. “Nora, that night we met up? That was, uh, really nice.” Great. So eloquent. How could she ever resist you?

  Nora leaned over and stroked her orsa’s head. “Yeah, we should probably talk about that. The thing is, when I kissed you, I . . . well . . . it can’t go any further. We can’t be in a relationship.” After blurting out the last sentence, she sat up straight, meeting his gaze.

  An ache filled Ovrun’s chest as he looked into her gorgeous eyes. “You’re saying I read too much into it?”

  “No!” Nora shook her head hard. When she spoke again, her voice was choked. “It meant a lot to me. But . . . oh, by the sky, Ovrun, I’m so stupid. I thought you just wanted to have some fun, and then when I realized you liked me as much as I liked you—” A sob burst from her mouth.

  I made her cry! If Ovrun hadn’t been riding an orsa, he’d have pulled her into his arms again. Then her words sank in. She said she liked me. “Your High—I mean, Nora—if we both like each other, what’s the problem?”

  Nora took a deep breath and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I can’t be in a relationship with anyone unless my dad allows it.”

  The words punched a hole in Ovrun’s chest. He’d hoped no one would subject Nora to such an old-fashioned tradition.

  “I can’t date, not like other people do,” Nora said. “The man I marry will become the king. My dad will help me find that person, just like Queen Onna helped my dad choose my mom. I suppose I’ll do the same for my heir. My dad assures me he’ll do all he can to help me find someone kind, but . . .” She trailed off and shrugged.

  “But it won’t be someone like me who wouldn’t know the first thing about leading a country.”

  Nora didn’t contradict him. The waning sunlight glistened off the fresh tears in her eyes. “I’ve kissed a few boys before,” she said softly. “None of them really liked me; they all just wanted to be able to say they’d kissed a princess. So I thought you and I would have some fun, and it would end there.” She turned her head to look straight at him. “I assumed you’d take advantage of me, and instead, I ended up taking advantage of you. I’m sorry. It was no way to treat a friend.”

  Her regret was stark and genuine. Ovrun forced a smile. “So . . . you consider me a friend?”

  Nora laughed and sniffled. “Don’t get too excited. I’ve only had one friend before, and I drove her away. I doubt you’d want a friend who’s this much of a mess.”

  “But I do, Nora.” He tugged his orsa’s reins. Seeing it, Nora did the same. Both beasts halted. “I meant everything I said to you that night,” Ovrun said. “I like you, not just because you’re gorgeous, but because you’re you. I’ve missed talking to you lately. If we end this conversation as friends, we’re at a better place than where we started it. Right?”

  “Right.” The word emerged as a croak.

  Ovrun reached out a hand. Nora took it and squeezed it. After a few seconds, she smiled. �
�Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

  He gave her a wary look. “I’ll try not to.”

  She blushed. “Those were really good kisses. Like, exceptional.”

  He laughed, even as his chest ached with desire. “I can’t say I disagree.” He turned his head toward the guardhouse, knowing if he looked at her any longer, he’d kiss her again. “I should get back.”

  “If you could wait a little longer . . . I need to ask you a favor. And I’ll understand if you say no.” She patted her orsa’s backside. Ovrun followed suit. When the beasts were walking alongside each other again, Nora said, “I need the keys to the ministers’ offices.”

  His eyebrows leapt up. “I can’t give you those. Why would you even need them?”

  “I’ll let Krey tell you the details if he wants to. Long story short, it’s the best chance we have of finding Zeisha.”

  Ovrun glanced to the east, toward his family’s little house in the city. His mother and sister were probably having dinner. He’d bought the chicken they were eating. He’d also saved their family from eviction twice. Ovrun had never met his dad, and when his sister was five, her father had disappeared. Their mother had sacrificed so much, taking care of them. Now that he was a guard, he was returning the favor. If he got caught loaning out his keys, he’d get fired. He might never get a job this good again.

  Then he thought about Krey, who’d been in love with Zeisha since he was too young to know what love was. He was going mad with worry and wanted nothing more than for her to be safe.

  Ovrun had great reasons to say no to this request. But what was a job compared to the life and safety of a human being?

  He took a deep breath. “I’ll do it, Nora. Because you’re my friend. Krey is too.”

  Nora smiled. “I could almost kiss you.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but please don’t.”

  She laughed, and they turned back toward the stable. The groom took the orsas, and Nora gave Ovrun a tight hug. He didn’t want to let go. He could feel her reluctance too.

  As he watched her walk back toward the palace, he unbuttoned his coat. An odd combination of contentment and desire had banished the evening chill.

  15

  My neighbor, Vosh, liked to tell about how he’d nearly starved after trading all his food for a wooden flute. He said he never regretted it.

  Every year on Anyari Day, the entire community gathered together. Some years, we feasted; other years, we were still hungry at bedtime. Regardless of the status of our crops, Vosh played his flute from morning until night, bringing joy to our gathering.

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  Centa 25th, Anyari Day, dawned sunny and warm. All the snow from a few days before had melted, and now a warm front had ushered in spring-like weather.

  Nora ate breakfast, smiling as she chewed. She washed it all down with coffee, went to her closet, and chose one of her favorite shirts, crafted from preday fabric in several shades of green. She looked at the tag and smiled. Evie Designs.

  She’d woken early, and the house was still quiet. Her father and Dani rarely slept in, and she couldn’t begrudge them their laziness. After putting on her makeup, she poured another cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table with a novel. Her mind, however, was too busy to focus on a book.

  Silently, she reviewed the plans she and Krey had made for later that day. Is late afternoon really the right time? Will anyone notice we’re missing? She chewed on the inside of her lip, then stopped and took a few deep breaths, shifting her thoughts to the day’s festivities.

  Anyari Day was the one holiday still in existence that the colonists themselves had celebrated. Many historians speculated that it was related to some sort of winter holiday on humanity’s home planet, Earth. It couldn’t be proven, but it was a nice idea.

  On Anyari Day, people around the world honored the planet’s colonists. It was a day of celebration and speculation as people remembered their brave ancestors and considered the mysterious history of their race.

  “You woke up early!” Dani said from the doorway.

  “Pretty sure you woke up late.”

  Dani laughed, got a cup of coffee, and sat with Nora. “I’m glad I caught you alone. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  Nora’s heartbeat accelerated into a rapid trot. Did Dani suspect something about her niece’s plans for the day?

  “You’ve seemed a little down the last few days,” Dani said, smiling gently.

  “Have I?” Nora knew she’d been moody since her conversation with Ovrun. She had a friend again, a fact that brought a smile to her face at the most random times. If only he could be more than a friend. She’d been born into an invisible cage, and these days, its bars were squeezing her tighter than ever.

  Dani’s kindness was hard to resist, though Nora wasn’t ready to tell her aunt everything. She drank the last of her coffee and stared into the cup. “Lately, my future has felt so real. And honestly, I don’t want to be queen. I know I’ll never feel ready for it.” That was more than she’d meant to say. She lifted her eyes to her aunt, expecting a lecture.

  Instead, Dani reached out and tucked Nora’s hair behind her ear. “Oh, sweetheart. It says a lot about you that you’re taking it so seriously. But it’ll be decades before the crown is yours. I know I push you to be responsible, but I also want you to enjoy being seventeen years old. Maybe I don’t tell you that often enough.”

  Nora blinked back unexpected tears. She’d held back much of what was on her mind, yet somehow her aunt had said just the right thing.

  The conversation might have continued, had Nora’s father not chosen that moment to enter. “Happy Anyari Day!”

  Nora smiled, hoping her eyes weren’t too moist, and returned the greeting.

  When the king sat down, he took Nora’s hand and gave her that sweet, sappy smile she’d gotten used to in the last ten years. “Your mother loved this day.”

  Now Nora didn’t feel the need to hide her tears. She squeezed his hand. “I know. Do you recognize my shoes?”

  Her dad looked down at the foot she was extending, and his eyes, too, filled with tears. “They’re the ones she wore once a year, on this day. You remember that?”

  “Of course I do, Dad.”

  He kissed her forehead. Across the table, Dani sniffled loudly. An easy silence fell over the table as all three of them used their napkins to wipe away tears.

  After a few minutes, Ulmin stood. “I’d better get ready. I’d like to spend a few minutes worshiping in the chapel before the festivities begin.”

  “ ‘Bye, Dad.”

  He smiled and kissed her forehead again, then left. She’d never understood his sudden devotion to God that began right after her mother died, but it seemed to comfort him. Sometimes she envied that.

  Dani excused herself to get ready, leaving Nora alone with her thoughts again. She pulled one foot into her lap and ran her fingers along the soft leather of her mother’s shoe. When tears filled her eyes, she let them fall.

  At eleven, the celebration began with live music on an outdoor stage set up east of the pond. Nora went outside to soak up the joy of the small crowd. The only palace staff expected to work on Anyari Day were guards, and they rotated on short shifts so no one had to work more than five hours. Caterers from the city took care of the food, leaving the household chef free to join the celebration. He was sitting next to the king at a table close to the stage.

  Nora found a seat at an empty table and listened to the music. Five string musicians and a trio of percussionists played music that had been popular thirty years ago.

  Krey pulled out a chair. “Mind if I sit?” He didn’t wait for her response.

  “Actually, I was saving the whole table for my large group of age-appropriate friends.”

  “Oh, good. I’m the same age as you.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t call you appropriate.”

  A laugh sputtered from his mouth. “So, w
hen are all your friends coming?”

  An image of Faylie flashed in her mind, but she banished it. She’d had enough tears today. “Well,” she said, “Ovrun is my friend now, but he’s working. It took me seventeen years to find him, so at that rate the table will fill up in”—she counted chairs and did some quick figuring in her head—“over a hundred years. You’ll have to give up your seat when the last one shows up.”

  Krey propped his feet on one of the empty chairs. “This music sucks.”

  “Right? My dad chose it. I chose the after-dark band, though, and you’ll love it.”

  “Assuming we aren’t locked up in the security office,” he murmured.

  She glanced around. “That’s enough of that.”

  “Want a drink?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He stood. “Get it yourself.”

  She scowled and followed him as he laughed all the way to the drink table. It was good to hear him laugh. She knew Zeisha was never far from his mind, but hopefully he could enjoy the holiday.

  Nora’s table did fill up, not with people her age, but with palace staff she’d known for years. They ate lunch together, after which King Ulmin took to the stage and gave a short, rousing speech honoring Anyari’s colonists.

  Another band began playing, and many celebrants rose to dance. Krey, the only one left at the table besides Nora, spoke quietly. “You nervous?”

  “Of course.”

  “Me too. Just a few more hours.”

  Nora gave a slight nod. “Know what the best remedy for nerves is?”

  “What?”

  “Dancing to terrible music.” She grinned, stood, and grabbed his hand.

  He groaned, but didn’t resist too much as she pulled him toward the joyful mob.

  Nora and Krey knew it was four o’clock when the king announced the bar was open. He and Dani always served the first round of drinks. Their distraction, combined with a general air of excitement, made it a good time to escape.