The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  Most of the searchers had gone to the city, and for good reason: they knew she’d have a hard time surviving by herself, out here in the country. If she walked far enough, she’d encounter the river that fed ancient canals still used by farmers. Eventually, she’d reach the massive mountain in the west. Where I’d die of starvation.

  Staying outside wasn’t an option. She needed an alternate route into the city, one the guards might not immediately search. After a clommet or so of walking, she saw a country road running north-south. She turned to parallel it, staying under the shade of scattered trees as much as she could.

  This area was unfamiliar to Nora. She wished she had the time to enjoy her walk. She hurried through fields both cultivated and fallow, finally seeing a narrow, east-west road leading into the city. Maybe no one’s searching that road. Her heart lifted. As she’d done countless times already, she glanced behind her, just to make sure no one was coming.

  Far in the distance, a rider was approaching on orsaback. Nora drew in a sharp breath.

  A group of trees stood just ahead, their branches bare. Tree climbing had been one of her favorite solitary pursuits as a child, especially in the first few years after her mother’s death. There was something peaceful and healing about sitting far above the world, unobserved by the people below.

  She rushed into the trees and scrambled up the one farthest from the road, her eyes locked on the approaching rider. Please, please don’t look this way. After a quick, daring climb, she settled in a branch about three mets up, close to the trunk.

  The sound of the orsa’s running feet grew nearer, finally overtaking Nora’s position. The rider had his back to her briefly, until he turned onto the east-west road. Once again, she’d be in his line of sight if he looked this way. Squinting to hide the whites of her eyes, Nora tried to blend into the tree, as if she could do so by pure force of will. Her skin tone was similar to the medium brown of the tree bark, and her clothes were navy and dark tan. Not the greatest camouflage. I hope it’s enough.

  The guard once again passed her position—and kept riding.

  Nora released a long sigh, considering her predicament. Clearly she couldn’t go into the city in the middle of the day, not even if she used a minor road. The guards were probably still searching nearby farms, which ruled out the possibility of hiding in someone’s barn. I have to find a place to hide outside. I’ll move tonight.

  From her high perch, Nora scanned the area. South of the narrow road, far in the distance, was a copse of trees. They looked like fan trees, which had large, evergreen leaves. Their spindly limbs weren’t the best for climbing, but she’d done it before.

  After scanning both roads and finding them empty, Nora scrambled down and sprinted toward the trees. After another thrilling climb, she was surrounded by minty-smelling, fan-shaped leaves and the occasional grumbles of birds. She got as comfortable as possible and waited.

  Time passed slowly in a tree. It had been early afternoon when Nora climbed it. Within an hour, she was all too aware of her acute thirst, growing hunger, and boredom. But she didn’t dare move.

  The papers in her waistband begged to be read, but she had one arm looped around a tree branch. She wasn’t confident in her ability to retrieve and read the papers without dropping any. They’d have to wait.

  Hours crawled by. Nora shifted position often, creating heart-stopping noise each time. She was despairing of the sun ever setting when at last the sky began to darken, bringing with it a chill that made Nora wish she had more than a light jacket.

  Not long after darkness truly settled, Nora couldn’t wait any longer. She had to find water. Ironically, she also needed to pee. She descended and took care of the second need first, squatting by a tree. Hooray for new experiences.

  As she walked through the trees, her excitement returned. This was the longest she’d ever been away from the palace by herself. Freedom filled her limbs and chest with a delightful buzz. At the edge of the trees, she stopped, listening for voices or riders. It was quiet.

  Windows in a distant farmhouse glowed with lantern light. A farm would surely have water. The moon hadn’t risen, but the stars helped a little as Nora navigated across a meadow and several fields.

  She went straight to the dark barn and walked around its perimeter, looking up. There it was, blocking out the stars: an elevated, rain-collecting water tank attached to the roof, just like the one at the palace stables. Nora groped around and found the tap. She crouched, opened her mouth, and turned the handle. Once she’d had her fill of cold water, she stood.

  Where to now? Did she dare travel this early in the evening?

  The creak of the farmhouse’s back door, followed by approaching footsteps and the glow of a swinging lantern, answered her question. It was too early to walk to the city. She circled around to the back of the barn and returned to the trees. Just a few more hours. She knew it would feel like eternity.

  Several hours later—or at least she hoped it had been hours; she had no confidence in her concept of time—Nora descended again. She exited the woods and paused, taking in her surroundings. The farmhouse lights were off, and she could no longer see any buildings. A half-moon sat low in the sky, barely illuminating trees and bushes. Some sort of nocturnal bird grumbled. Bugs buzzed. Nora knew she was still in danger of being caught, but at that moment, it felt like the palace and its guards were worlds away.

  She’d heard stories of how, in the early decades after The Day, certain places on Anyari were enchanted. These days, most people agreed that if sentient trees or healing ponds had ever existed, their magic had long ago faded to nothing.

  In the silver moonlight, however, surrounded by a peace so thick it was almost tangible, Nora could easily imagine the land itself was imbued with the magic of the stone. After drawing a deep breath of cold air to break the lovely spell, she set her feet toward Cellerin City.

  In the dark, it took longer than usual to reach the city. Along the way, she tripped twice. Her knees, which already hurt from her jumps outside the fence, got even more banged up. To make things worse, her nose was numb with cold. But the dim sight of city buildings made her forget all that.

  She knew Ovrun’s address, and she couldn’t think of a better place to go. Guards might be watching his house, but she thought they’d be more likely to keep an eye on Krey. Everyone had seen the two of them practicing magic by the pond.

  Nora had never been more grateful for her geography tutor, who’d often used a map of Cellerin City in their map-navigation lessons. She easily moved through the city. Within half an hour, she was gazing up at Ovrun’s tiny, two-story house.

  There were no guards in sight, but she still had to be careful. Ovrun’s mother and sister might turn her in. It wasn’t exactly normal for a princess to show up at your house in the middle of the night. And what about Ovrun? She didn’t think he was the type to turn on her, but how could she be sure? After all, she’d cost him his job. This is a genuinely bad idea. Problem was, she couldn’t think of a better one.

  Nora crept around the house and identified two upstairs windows that probably led to bedrooms. Both were covered with drapes, leaving no indication which room belonged to Ovrun. With a sigh, she chose one randomly. She groped around, found a rock, and threw it at the window. It hit with a clatter that sounded incredibly loud in the still night.

  Nothing happened. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that loud. Nora tried again. And again. After she’d thrown six rocks, she gave up. She’d try the other window.

  She didn’t get a chance. The bottom half of the window moved, pulled inward and upward on a hinge.

  Nora gasped and scrambled backward. Her heel caught on a rough patch, and she fell. She kept her eyes glued to the window as she tried to scoot farther back.

  A shadow appeared in the window, followed by a male-sounding grunt. The shadow moved, like it was looking around. The window began to swing back down.

  “Wait!” Nora called in a hissing whisper as she stood up.
“It’s me!”

  “Who?” The voice definitely belonged to Ovrun.

  “Nora.”

  She heard his sharp intake of breath. Then he spoke four words that made all her nighttime travails worth it: “I’ll be right out.”

  When he arrived, he grasped her shoulder. “What are you doing here, Nora?”

  She patted her waistband, and the papers rustled. “I got into Minister Sharai’s office. I found her secret papers.”

  “What do they say?”

  “I don’t know. I got caught, and I had to run away. I haven’t had a chance to read them.”

  “You ran away?”

  “Yes.”

  Ovrun’s breath came out in a long sigh. “Then they’re looking for you.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I didn’t go to Krey. My aunt knows I was working with him on this.”

  “But she knows I helped you too. It won’t be long before they come to find me. You can’t be here.”

  Nora’s stomach twisted with disappointment. Perhaps he wasn’t going to turn her in, but he wouldn’t help her either. She couldn’t blame him. “You’re right.” Gently, she removed his hand from her shoulder. She forced her words through a tight throat. “Ovrun, I’m so sorry. For everything.” She turned to leave, but stopped short when his hand grasped hers.

  “Wait!” he whispered. “I’m helping Krey, didn’t he tell you that? When I said you can’t be here, I meant we both need to leave. Give me ten minutes to grab some things and leave a note for my mother.”

  “You . . . you’re coming with me?”

  She heard the smile in his voice. “Friends, remember? I’ll be right back.” He squeezed her hand and ran back inside.

  It felt more like twenty minutes, but at last he returned. “Here,” he said. “It’s a coat.”

  He helped her put it on. The sleeves totally covered her hands. “Is this yours?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He laughed softly. “It doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m sure it’s big on you.”

  “That’s okay. Thank you.”

  “I packed two backpacks. Mostly clothes. Can you carry one?”

  “Sure.”

  He handed her a pack. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “A park near Krey’s boarding house. I’ll drop you off there, and then I’ll go get him. If the guards haven’t beat me to it.”

  As soon as Krey opened the door to his room and saw Ovrun there, he was wide awake. He ushered his friend in. “What is it?”

  Ovrun updated him, and Krey walked to the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Hang on. There are two royal guards out front. I’m sure they’re watching the door for you to come or go.”

  Krey muttered a curse, then lit a lantern and started pacing. After a couple of minutes, he stopped. “I’ve got it. Wait here; I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the lantern and some coins, rushed to the room next door, and knocked.

  A sleepy male apprentice opened the door. “Krey? What time is it?”

  “I need you to do something for me, and I can’t explain why. But I can pay you seventy quins.” Krey held out the coins, enough to eat at pubs for a full week.

  The young man’s eyes widened. “What do you need me to do?”

  Krey explained, eventually reaching a deal when he upped his offer to a hundred quins.

  Back in his room, he loaded up a backpack, explaining the plan to Ovrun. The two of them led Krey’s neighbor to the front door. They watched through a window as the young man, holding three bottles of warm beer, approached the guards.

  One of the guards refused the drink. Krey ground his teeth together while the second guard waffled back and forth, then took the beer. When the first guard reluctantly followed suit, Krey allowed himself a small smile.

  The apprentice started an animated conversation with the guards—a conversation that did nothing to take their diligent eyes off the front door. Krey drummed his fingers on the doorframe.

  Then the apprentice pointed at the horizon, away from the door. His voice grew louder and more excited. Krey heard him say something about a great pub he’d found.

  As one, the guards turned their heads away from the boarding house.

  Without a word, Krey and Ovrun rushed outside, leaving the door open. They ran to the front door of another boarding house, two buildings down, before daring to look back.

  The guards were just turning back around. Krey and Ovrun walked casually away from the second boarding house, as if they were residents leaving for an early morning shift. Their movements didn’t catch any attention. Krey could’ve screamed with relief.

  They hurried to the park and approached the stone table and benches where Ovrun said he’d left Nora. It was too dark to see much, but there were no princess-shaped silhouettes in sight.

  “Nora?” Ovrun asked.

  There was a shuffling sound and a loud “Ow!” Nora emerged from under the table.

  “You okay?” Ovrun asked.

  “I hit my head. What took you so long?”

  “We had to get past the guards.” Krey stepped close, speaking softly, though no one else was around. “Ovrun said you found the papers in Sharai’s office?”

  “I couldn’t bring them all, but I have some.”

  He lit his lantern and sat. His heart was beating so hard, he could feel it in his stomach. “Let’s see what you got.”

  Nora and Ovrun sat, and within seconds, they were all perusing different papers.

  Krey scanned his quickly. “This is a supply list—Oh, wait. It’s all fuel. Vines, ice, ash, animal blood, milled rocks, soil, feathers.”

  “That makes sense if they’re abducting magic eaters,” Ovrun said.

  “What’s on yours?” Krey asked.

  “More supplies,” Ovrun said. “Food, blankets, things like that.”

  Nora held up three sheets in a trembling hand. “I think . . . this is a list of all the militia members. It’s got updates on how they’re doing.”

  Krey held his breath.

  “Zeisha’s on there,” Nora said softly.

  Krey squeezed his eyes shut as tears filled them.

  “Faylie’s not,” Nora whispered.

  Krey opened his eyes and saw that her chin was trembling. Ovrun just looked confused. “I’m sorry, Nora,” Krey said.

  After a moment, she spoke, the words seeming to strain her throat. “No, it’s—it’s okay. It means she’s safe. Here, um, let me—let me read you what it says about Zeisha.” The papers rustled, and she read in a stronger voice, “Zeisha, a plant lyster, showed great improvement this week. The vines she creates are now strong enough to hold her whole body weight, though she still struggles with focus, often falling when her vines lose strength. We’ve just begun working on her throwing ability. Within the next month, I hope she’ll be able to throw vines with enough accuracy to strangle someone from three mets away.”

  A hush fell over the table, broken only by Krey’s loud, rapid breathing. Suddenly, he brought his fist down on the table. “Zeisha would never hurt someone.”

  He grabbed a handful of pages before anyone else could. With furious eyes, he scanned and discarded a supply request and an inventory list. He stopped when he found another document with updates on the magic eaters. After reading Zeisha’s, which was older than the one Nora had read, he reviewed the others. One in particular caught his eye.

  Ruli, a stone lyster, can still only create a small mound of palm-sized rocks each day. In the past week, we have continued to struggle to control her. She still has occasional breakthroughs of awareness, asking where she is or what she’s doing. Considering her lack of improvement and the other issues, I suggest eliminating her. We can find someone to replace her or make do with the other stone lysters on our team.

  Krey set the paper down between Nora and Ovrun. “You both need to read this.”

  Nora read it aloud. By the end, she sounded horrified.

  Ovrun’s voice intruded into the subsequent s
ilence. “What do you think it means, occasional breakthroughs of awareness?”

  “They’re controlling them.” Krey’s voice sounded hollow in his own ears. “That’s why they think Zeisha will be willing to strangle someone with her magic. They’ve abducted magic eaters, and somehow they’ve turned them into . . . into . . .” He trailed off.

  Nora finished his thought. “They’ve turned them into mental slaves.”

  In the Dark: 6

  “Thirteen weeks,” Zeisha said.

  “Oh,” Isla said. The word sounded hoarse. She followed it with a pained moan.

  Zeisha reached out and found Isla’s knee. “What is it?”

  “My throat.”

  “You sound sick!”

  “No. Not sick. Something happened to my throat. My neck—feel my neck. Be gentle.”

  Zeisha’s hands grasped into the darkness and found Isla’s face, then her neck. It was sticky. When Zeisha pulled her hands back, she smelled herbal ointment. “What happened?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  An image invaded Zeisha’s mind, one she was certain had come from the dream she’d just had. She began to sob, eliciting angry mumbles from two nearby sleepers.

  “What, Zeisha?” Isla found her hands. “I’ll be okay, really. It’s just a little sore.”

  “It’s—it’s not that.” Zeisha struggled for breath. “It was—it was me. My vines. I did that to you.”

  Across the room, a door opened, the hinges creaking. “Back to sleep!” their nighttime guard yelled.

  Zeisha lay down and swallowed her sobs, but she knew she couldn’t sleep.

  20

  My daddy held me on his lap and pointed east. “There’s a big city out there, with buildings that almost reach the sky. Before The Day, our whole community could’ve lived together in one of those buildings.”