Realm of Ice

by Angela J. Ford

  Citrine's shoulders slumped, but Grift’s words from earlier gave her a spark of hope. “How long will that take?”

  Those unreadable amber eyes sought hers, and this time a chill passed through her again, a reminder of the warning she'd felt when the ice cracked.

  “Not long.” Lord Nodin turned around. “A few days at most. Stronghold is not as far into the mountains as one might think.”

  “Who are your winged friends?” Zilpha asked, almost tripping over her own feet as she followed him.

  “The Xctas.” Lord Nodin's voice carried through the wind. “They are the kin of eagles. A few of the Therian can transform into Xctas and share a bond with them.”

  Citrine puzzled over this as they moved forward again. Did the voices she'd heard belong to the Xctas?

  The whisper of voices roamed around her, louder than the wind in the trees. Memories flashed. A demon in the forest. Voices swirling through her head. Visiting the ocean with her father. Blood dripping down her face and a Silver-White-Heart whispering words of doom in her mind.

  Clenching her jaw, she fought to surprise the memories, but a sense of foreboding rose so strong she felt nauseous. Breathe, she reminded herself. Don’t let the voices in. Don’t lose control.

  Was it the thin mountain air? She took deep breaths, one after the other, to calm herself. What she would give for the air of clarity, her herbs, a tea, the warmth of Grift's fur, or a night without Lord Nodin, Zilpha, Hava, and Tor Lir.

  Citrine’s thoughts continued to circle as they traveled, and Hava walked by her side, a silent companion. Sunlight faded, giving way to a brilliant sunset. Nodin's rough voice cut through her musings.

  Up on a hill rose a thick cluster of trees around the open mouth of a shallow cave. The scent of pine hung heavy, and snowdrifts had gathered around the base of the tree. Citrine’s footsteps slowed as they ascended. Hava pushed ahead, but something made Citrine pause. She glanced back.

  A lone figure moved up the path, following their footprints in the snow. The falling light played a trick on her eyes, and for a moment she thought she saw a shadow with horns, dark and diabolical. She blinked, but it was only Tor Lir marching toward her. His emerald-green eyes locked on hers. He lifted a finger and pointed it at her.

  5

  Truth

  “Tor Lir, where were you?” Hava asked. Worry creased her face.

  Tor Lir peeked into the shallow cave. The words of last night still rang in his mind. He needed to sit down and tune out his consciousness, but too many questions swirled in his mind. A path without light seemed to lay open before him, and he craved answers. Ignoring Hava's question, he locked his gaze on Citrine. Her lemon-yellow eyes returned his stare before she returned to helping Hava arrange the firewood. In one move, Tor Lir strode over and gripped her arm, bringing his lips close to her ear. “Citrine, I need to speak with you. Alone.”

  Zilpha gasped, and Hava rose, her face tight. “Tor Lir?”

  Citrine narrowed her eyes at him, but she spoke to Hava. “It's okay, I'll go with him.”

  His grip tightened on her arm as he dragged her out of the cave, toward a clump of trees.

  “Tor Lir, you're hurting me,” Citrine hissed.

  Surprised at the vehemence in her face, he let go and crossed his arms around his chest to protect himself from her anger. Citrine was a few inches shorter than him, and her eyes flashed as she stared up at him. Defiant. The white hood of her fur had fallen back, and her hair danced in the unceasing wind. It looked rather red today.

  She spoke first, her eyes scanning his face. “Why are you acting strange? Your face is pale. Your eyes are red-rimmed. You didn't even speak to Hava, and she's only here because of you.”

  Frustration burst out of him in a growl. He tightened his fists until his nails made indentations on his palms. “Citrine.” Her name felt strange on his tongue. “I had an encounter last night, a strange vision given to me by the Clyear of Revelation. I must ask you, has there ever been a time when white creatures appeared to you? Perhaps in a dream or a vision?”

  He leaned forward until he could almost taste her breath, longing thrumming within him and a desperate desire to know. Had the Truth Tellers appeared to Citrine? Did she understand how his and her futures were intertwined? What had she kept from him?

  Citrine tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Her long fingers trembled, but she frowned and shook her head. “White creatures? What are you talking about?”

  “Think,” Tor Lir demanded, but her fierce expression did not soften. Words were whispered in his ears as though carried on the back of the wind. Words he should say to remind her of what she’d seen. He made his voice gentle. “Think back to before we met in the Land of Lock, when you were in the Boundary Line Forest. Perhaps you saw white creatures with hair like tentacles, floating.”

  Citrine froze. Her eyes flicked, and a hint of fear washed the color out of her face. Tor Lir watched as her memory washed over her, bit by bit, like the first light after a dark night. Her jaw dropped, and her lemon-yellow eyes widened. A small sound came from her throat, and her fingers closed around her fur cloak, clutching the top together. “Hair like tentacles?"

  His lip curled. “Aye. I need to know what they said to you.”

  “Nothing,” Citrine spoke quickly, the lie bursting out between her trembling lips. “They said nothing. Tor Lir. What happened last night? What did you see?”

  “I need to know what you know first. You saw the white creatures? You know what I speak of?”

  “I do but. . .but. . .” she stammered, and her eyes roved back and forth. It was plain she understood what he asked of her yet sought an escape from revealing what she knew. “It was so long ago, before I met the Master of the Forest. I think it was my first night in the forest, and I hid in a log to sleep. When I woke there were creatures talking.”

  Tor Lir moved closer, hungry for the knowledge while Citrine blinked up at him, fear written across her face. The words hovered on the tip of her tongue.

  He slowed down his thoughts and let the coldness drift through them so he could issue a command. “Tell me.”

  “I…I…” Her eyes dropped as she gave up the pretense. Her tone dropped. “They spoke about balance. There was a Him they mentioned. He had free will, but he came to keep the balance. There was also a Her they were going to send to him, to keep him in check. One of them said they were not supposed to meddle with the fate of the Four Worlds, so they set a test.”

  Tor Lir's lips thinned. “Set a test to see what would happen.”

  “Tor Lir, why are you asking me these things?” Citrine asked. “What do you know?”

  “Those white creatures you saw, they are the Truth Tellers, and they appeared to me last night.”

  Citrine stepped back, widening the gap between them. Her jaw moved up and down, but nothing came from her mouth.

  Tor Lir kept his expression calm and studied the tilt of her nose and her pert lips. Any moment, she’d regain her speech and bombard him with her thoughts. “I can see you’ve heard the term; you know them by name. Perhaps they did not speak to you because they require death for knowledge.”

  Citrine’s eyes glazed over and her voice came out in a whisper. “I’ve heard of them. Truth Tellers. They appear to Treasure Hunters and, like you said, they demand death. But not in all cases. The legend of Pharengon of the Jeweled Sword and his companions says they let the Treasure Hunters go free. But they spoke of doom and death. Tor Lir, why did they come to you?”

  Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together.

  He cocked his head at her. “You are afraid. Why?”

  Citrine’s eyes flashed. She waved a hand in the air. “Why? Look around you. We are entering the realm of ice, where the Therian are changing into terrible beasts. The Truth Tellers—who come bringing doom to the world—appeared to you, of all people. And we are being hunted.”

  Hunted. That was new. Tor Lir recoiled and stepped back. Loosening his fists, he ran h
is fingers through his black hair. “Hunted? What makes you think that?”

  “Don’t change the topic,” Citrine snarled. “Tell me what the Truth Tellers said and I’ll consider telling you.”

  Her temper was back. It was not the time or place for it. Tor Lir moved closer to her. His eyes roamed over the bare hillside, and although he saw nothing moving other than dustings of snow, he lowered his voice all the same. “The Truth Tellers came for two reasons. The first was to warn me about this world. They said I can impact the fate of the Four Worlds, but I need knowledge to do so. The second reason is because they want me to go to Daygone to gain said knowledge, and you must come with me, for we belong together.”

  Citrine’s bitter laugh rippled through the air and echoed off the hill. “We belong together? Every time I try to leave you, something hurls us back together.”

  Tor Lir shrugged. “Just as Novor Tur-Woodberry said.”

  “Don’t speak of him,” she snapped. “And of course you have power, you are the Nameless One, you keep the balance, although I don’t think there should be a balance between good and evil. Also.” She held up a finger. “I want you to listen. Hear this from me now. I am NEVER going to Daygone with you. Never. Ever. Ever. That place is evil. In fact, it is the birthplace of evil. Haven’t you heard of the war between the mortals and immortals?”

  “Between the Changers and mortals, you mean?”

  Citrine blanched but pushed on with her tirade. “Don’t correct me when I’m speaking to you. And now you speak of Changers? I don’t know what you’re twisted up in, but I’m not coming. I have to find a home for my beasts—it is of the utmost priority. After we finish with the Therian, I am going to the Udi, and you are coming with me.”

  She moved closer to him with each word until her finger stabbed into his chest. She punctuated her words with a jab at him. Her eyes flashed, and Tor Lir imagined, for a moment, sparks would come out of them and set fire to the land of ice.

  “Once we kill the monster for the Udi, I will go to paradise with my beasts, and you can go to Daygone. Alone. Besides, you can’t go there. Two great dranagins rule there and keep anyone from entering that land.”

  Tor Lir grinned. Details. “You can tame them and add more beasts to your collection.”

  “Ava would go wild,” Citrine muttered. “She is getting too big, and no one can manage her.”

  “Except you,” Tor Lir affirmed. “Besides, those details we can discuss later. I’m just telling you what the Truth Tellers told me. Now share, who is hunting us?”

  Citrine stilled, and her head fell forward, almost touching his chest. Momentarily he allowed his thoughts to flit toward Hava, and he felt just the slightest twinge of remorse. She was so pure, untainted, why had he allowed her to come with them? True, he cared about Hava, but something had changed after they had slain the beast in Sanga Sang. After he looked into the Clyear of Revelation. He should have left Hava alone, should have driven her away.

  Pushing those thoughts away, he went ahead and wrapped an arm around Citrine’s waist. Instead of hitting him—like he expected—she sagged against him. The bad news was taking its toll, and her aura of fear snapped around him. She was holding onto something she should have shared with him earlier.

  “Triften came to me before we left Sanga Sang. He had a letter, a notice or something. It had your likeness on it, and he said the Disciples of Ithar want to arrest you, but they need proof.”

  “Proof?” Tor Lir released Citrine and spun away. He paced back and forth, shaking his head. Arrest him? Why? Novor Tur-Woodberry had warned him and Citrine about the Disciples of Ithar, but he did not understand why they’d found out about him so quickly. Unless…He faced Citrine. “Why? What do they know?”

  Citrine glanced down and behind him. “You don’t have a shadow.”

  A humming began in Tor Lir’s head. He looked down, heart thudding in his throat. Citrine’s shadow fell behind her, but his wasn’t there. The memory of his shadow, dark and diabolical, returned. Blood pulsed behind his eyes, but he forced himself to calm down, forced his emerald gaze to meet Citrine’s. “Are you afraid of me then?”

  Citrine shook her head. “No, I just want to know why.”

  She studied him so intently he wanted to look away.

  “I can’t tell you that,” Tor Lir replied. “I am immortal. I am mysterious. All the questions you hold in your mind, I cannot answer.”

  “Do you know why?” she persisted. “If you won’t tell me I understand, but surely you know why you don’t have a shadow.”

  Tor Lir scowled. His pulse raced. Why was she asking these questions? Why now? He had to stop her line of questioning. “I do. But enough of this talk. Let’s return to camp. The others will wonder what kept us so long.”

  6

  Snowflakes

  Silent snowflakes twirled out of the sky, some resting and others melting on the road. Citrine blinked against the brightness, a sharp contrast to the shade of the cave. She had woken before the others and tiptoed out of the makeshift bed of furs she shared with Hava. Tor Lir was missing, but that wasn’t unusual. He’d told her before he had no use for sleep. Lord Nodin and Zilpha were nothing more than lumps under brown furs, and she scowled in their direction. Everyone had someone. She did not appreciate them pairing off during their adventure. Citrine pulled the fur around her shoulders and walked outside. Tilting back her head, she let the snow settle around her face and neck. It tickled when it landed, and she lifted her hands and let out a soft laugh.

  Mistress.

  The connection came out of nowhere. She jumped. Grift?

  Turn around.

  Her eyes widened just the slightest bit, and then she smiled when she saw the beast perched on top of the cave. A strange sensation swept through her, as though she wanted to cry. Grift. You are magnificent.

  It has been a long time since I’ve seen you happy.

  Citrine moved around the side of the cave to climb the rocky slope. Her breath puffed out like white mist, and she grinned as the snowflakes melted under her touch. There is no time for joy, Grift. I feel something akin to doom coming for me. And Tor Lir shared dark secrets I want no part of.

  Mistress. A word of advice. Happiness is fleeting but varies from moment to moment. When you experience a complete sense of peace and contentment, you are happy, but true joy comes from enjoying each moment for what it is, nothing more, nothing less. You often attach emotion and worry to each moment, but there is no need. Forget about the things you heard last night and what will happen today. Sit with me for a spell and enjoy the snow. It’s a rare treat. Although it has no stories to tell, it is beautiful.

  Citrine stilled. Grift was often right, and when she took his advice she felt better. Throwing her arms around his neck, she nestled her head in his fur. He was warm, and his purr of contentment vibrated around her. The dark sense of foreboding melted. She crossed her legs on the rocky top of the cave and opened her palms to the sky. A gentle wind stirred the snow into simple patterns, brushing snow clumps off the heavy-laden pine trees. Citrine’s fur fell off one shoulder, and the wind danced through her loose hair like fingers giving her a loving caress. Her face grew ruddy with cold, but a slow buildup of contentment bubbled in her heart.

  Closing her eyes, she took one deep breath after the other, using the smell of pine to calm herself. No grandiose clarity struck her, but as she meditated, a calmness dissolved her anxiety.

  “Citrine.” A deep male voice startled her out of her reverie.

  She looked down at Lord Nodin. He stood just beyond the mouth of the cave in a brown fur that brushed the snow-covered ground. His dark brown hair fell to his shoulders, and the wind tousled it like a playful child. His amber eyes examined her bare shoulder and catalogued the way her feet were tucked under her.

  Feeling exposed, Citrine rose and yanked her furs around herself. The sensation of calm evaporated like melted snow, and a distinct unfriendliness edged her tone. “You are up early.” />
  Lord Nodin’s expression did not change. “It is first light. I was able to connect with my friends—the Xctas—they are waiting for us in the clearing ahead.”

  Citrine shrugged.

  Lord Nodin continued to examine her. “They said there was a disturbance in the air. A great golden beast flew by, but not one of their kind.”

  Citrine’s gaze fell to where Grift had been minutes before. Lost in her thoughts, she had not noticed when he’d left. “I see.”

  “Be alert,” Lord Nodin warned. “The Therian have many enemies.”

  Citrine shuddered, and the foreboding sensation returned, like a black cloud resting heavily on her shoulders.

  She walked down the slope, intending to return from the cave, but Lord Nodin’s hand snaked out and caught her wrist. She jerked to a stop, and a tingling sensation went down her back. A warning? Desire? He stepped closer, and she did not—could not—move or react to his proximity. Instead, she inhaled. He smelled like the wild woods, and a sudden pang of longing for a garden struck her so deep she almost leaned into his arms.

  “Citrine. A word.” Their eyes met. Amber and lemon-yellow. “I know you collect wild beasts, but tell them not to tread here. It is too dangerous.”

  Her voice came out low and throaty. “Only I tell my beasts where they can or cannot tread.”

  “Consider yourself warned.”

  But he did not let go, only stared at her as though issuing a silent challenge. Who was Lord Nodin? A shifter and yet a Therian ruler? What did he really want with her? For she sensed something deeper there.

  His eyes changed for the briefest moment, and she saw something raw and wild in his gaze. Something that frightened her. He cocked his head, and his hand caressed her cheek; his fingertips were rough. “You’re like one of them, aren’t you? A wild beast who won’t be tamed. What would it take to break you?”

  She flinched away, unnerved at the way his eyes bored into hers. Quick as a flash, she raised her palm and slapped him across the cheek. The sound rang out like a crack of thunder. Vicious words came to her lips and died as Lord Nodin chuckled, a hand going to his face to ease the sting.