Realm of Ice

by Angela J. Ford

  Nodin’s gaze bored into her, and Citrine flinched, aware of the same slight feeling of tingling around her as when they traveled. She realized what it was now. Nodin saw her as a challenge, and she was attracted to confidence and power. A pang struck her, hard and deep, as she realized what she’d been fleeing toward ever since Hansel, her former lover, had betrayed her. Her first attraction had been toward Novor Tur-Woodberry, the kind giant who owned Paradise. He owned the land, and all creatures, plants and animals included, looked to him. Citrine had wanted him, wanted what he had from the moment she stepped onto his land. And then Tor Lir appeared. The Master of the Forest beckoned, and all of her illusions had shattered. And now the shadow of attraction she felt toward Nodin clarified itself. She was lonely. Out of her element. Willing to give in to Nodin’s odd attention and Elbron’s embrace. But the truth—a truth she’d long denied herself—was that she was desperately curious about Tor Lir and terrified of getting close to him. He oozed knowledge, hints of power followed him, and although he was arrogant and cold, she’d seen the change in him. Especially when they were in Sanga Sang. Especially when they killed the beast. Could it be. . . it was Tor Lir she wanted after all? But what about the revelation the Clyear had given her? Citrine leaned back against the wall. Stunned at her inner thoughts and then furious with herself and the circumstance she was trapped in.

  Meanwhile, Nodin continued speaking. “Where is Tor Lir? And the Clyear of Revelation?”

  Citrine felt a glint of glee as she watched Nodin’s expression. “As you recall, we were attacked before we reached Stronghold and Tor Lir went missing.”

  Nodin’s brows lowered. “Ah. But he returned.” His gaze went to his cousin. “Elbron, you were personally tasked with finding him and bringing him back.”

  “Which I did,” Elbron growled, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  Citrine sensed the electric energy in the air and went on with her speech, curious to see how Nodin would react. “He lost the Clyear to the Frost Queen. We went out this morning to reclaim it, but now he is her prisoner.”

  Nodin’s eyes narrowed further and then he turned. “Zilpha. Go ahead. I will find you.” He cupped her face in his hand. His eyes softened almost for a moment. Then he kissed her forehead and let go.

  Zilpha stumbled and leaned against the wall to hold herself up. “Nodin, please. Don’t do this,” she begged. “It’s not too late, you can confess—”

  Nodin shook his head. “Go, Zilpha.”

  Biting her lip, she turned, took a deep breath, and ran past Nodin, back up the hall from whence they had come.

  Citrine gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. Where was Zilpha going? If she went back up there, she’d meet the attackers and could end up like Hava. A strange premonition came over Citrine, and she recalled her shop on the Jaded Sea, the faint scent of sea-stung air and the tan, naked bodies of the fishers as they went about their work. That was where Zilpha belonged, had always belonged, and not out in the cold.

  When Citrine turned back to the present she was surprised to see that Nodin had let Zilpha go without making a move to call her or run after her.

  Nodin’s gaze rested on her. “Citrine. You should follow her. Perhaps she will listen to reason if you go after her.”

  Citrine opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure of what Nodin proposed.

  Ignoring her, he strode up to Elbron, and his tone went cold. Deadly. “You let the Clyear fall into the hands of the Frost Queen. Do you understand what will happen if she looks into it? She will see the truth and she will win. The Therian will die. Stronghold will be retaken. You need to go back to her. Immediately.” Nodin’s tone dropped lower still, as though he faced a deadly enemy and would not let them escape. “Take an army if you have to. Call the Tribe of Minas to bring their archers—”

  Elbron raised a hand, interrupting Nodin’s rage. “We cannot call the Tribe of Minas. They fought with the Frost Queen against you when you returned, and I met a scout on my way to the Frost Queen. The Tribe of Minas has turned. They are no longer our allies.”

  Nodin growled, and his hands went back behind his back, twitching into something more beast-like. “Elbron. You have betrayed us all.”

  27

  Truth

  Citrine’s breath caught as she studied Nodin’s posture. His words rang through her mind. He knew. He knew Elbron was the spy. Did he also know she held the Clyear?

  “We cannot attack the Frost Queen,” Elbron argued. “Why did you return if not to take down the Frost Queen once and for all? And the Clyear of Revelation was supposed to assist you, if you looked into it.”

  “I did,” Nodin shouted. “I saw Citrine and Tor Lir, and I brought them here to help us.”

  “To heal the beasts? To stop the plague? Or to help yourself become Ruler of Stronghold?” Elbron demanded.

  The ground shook again, but not from the attack. This time, it was the measured steps of a group of warriors marching down the passageways. There were about twenty of them and they came to a halt behind Nodin. Warriors. His warriors.

  “What is this?” demanded a male with a white mark on his forehead.

  “Galendir, you would not understand,” Nodin barked. “As head of the warriors, I task you with going to the Frost Queen. Set up a siege, sneak in if you have to, but we must get the Clyear back.”

  “My lord? The Clyear?” Galendir asked.

  “The Clyear of Revelation; we cannot heal the beasts without it,” Nodin snarled.

  “I heard something about ruling Stronghold,” Galendir scowled.

  “You heard right,” Elbron affirmed. “I’m afraid we’ve been taken in by his lies. Nodin seeks to rule Stronghold, not save us from the beasts. It is his fault we are turning wild. He brought the parasite that began this.”

  Astonished gasps filled the air, so many that Citrine turned around. Behind her she saw pale eyes, glowing in the flickering torchlight. The clans of the Therian stood behind her, the males, females, and children, watching, waiting. It seemed as though the council was taking place after all, in a crude, abrupt way.

  The Therian crept closer, straining to hear, and Citrine realized how precious life was in the narrow halls, close to the dungeons, where the wild animals struggled to gain freedom. She glanced at Elbron, hoping he would catch her eye and wishing he’d wait until they were officially gathered as a council to make this announcement. It seemed dangerous, careless in the narrow passageway, and the rage on Nodin’s face made her feel uneasy. But Elbron did not look at her. He moved forward, fists curled, and for a moment she thought he would shift into his bear form.

  “Is this true?” a female’s voice cried out.

  Questions filled the air, a torrent of confused voices, as the Therian looked from one to the other.

  “It is true,” Elbron thundered, taking another step toward Nodin. “For too long we have ceased to see him as a threat, but you recall it was when Nodin arrived that the curse began. He took my sister with him when he left, on the pretense of seeking out a healer, but now she is dead. He brought back Citrine, who is a healer, and Tor Lir, who holds some kind of uncanny power, and also the Clyear of Revelation. But it was when he looked into the Clyear of Revelation that he realized he, alone, could rule Stronghold. If he saved his people from death and destruction. Isn’t that right, Nodin? You thought if you healed us from the plague, we would give you our undying loyalty. You thought we wouldn’t find out what you’ve been up to all along. We were at peace before you rose to a lofty status in the world. We had laws and alliances throughout the Cascade Mountains, and yes, we had enemies, enemies who left us alone as we left them alone. But now all we have is death. Our bloodline is dying out, our people are dying out, because of you!”

  “You have no proof,” Nodin roared, stepping closer to Elbron. “I came to save you, save the Therian. Our bloodline has been dying out since the war. It’s nothing new. And I’m the only one who decided to do something about it. And what do I get? Accu
sations? Judgement?”

  Citrine’s heart beat a pitter-patter of fear in her chest. Her gaze dropped to Nodin’s feet, which had already transformed into the hooves of a bull. She swallowed hard, and her eyes shifted through the audience, but the crowd pressed in on both sides, determined to hear the words the cousins spoke.

  “I have returned with a solution, and you call me out as one seeking personal gain. If this is the thanks I get, I can simply leave. But I will not walk out without the things I brought. I, personally, will go to the Frost Queen and demand the Clyear. You can rot here with your self-righteousness and your lies.”

  The ground trembled harder, and Citrine was forced to hold on to the wall to keep her balance.

  “We are under attack. You can’t leave,” Elbron snarled. “Besides, I call for the council members and lords of Stronghold to decide here and now what we will do with Nodin, the traitor. I put it to a vote.”

  A guttural growl came from Nodin’s lips. “There shall be no vote!” he screamed.

  He stamped his hoofed foot and put his head down. His horns grew, thick and curved, as his full transformation took place. He roared and charged at Elbron.

  Citrine screamed as a volley of howls went up. In the blur, she saw the Therian shift into their beast forms, and a horrible wailing filled the air. She sensed a roar that made all the hair on her body stand up straight, and the halls shook with such violence she pitched forward. Shouts filled the air and torches fell, one by one. Stone came crashing down as the hall caved in on itself. The shouts of anger turned to screams of pain, and Citrine felt pressure, immense pressure, as they were cast into blackness.

  28

  Vibration

  The Frost Queen led him up through curved walls of ice where the sound of digging rang like crystals clinking together. Chills still racked his body, but he said nothing, all the while wondering what he would do if he had the chance to look into the Clyear of Revelation again and ask it another question. It seemed to reveal the innermost desires, what one sought to hide from, and above all: truth. His thoughts returned again to his struggle. He’d come to balance good and evil, but he was nameless, untethered. Who was he? It was time to understand, and suddenly a burning sensation welled up within. A thirst for knowledge and nothing else. He narrowed his eyes and watched his dangerous companion, her silent footfalls, the brush of her hair, and he thought of her, furry and foxlike trotting ahead of him, nails scratching against the hard surface. Defiance rippled through him, and again he wondered whether he should assist with her devious plan. A plan he did not fully understand. But she was hurting, seeking revenge. Isn’t it what the Truth Tellers would want him to do? Anger flared. It was the Truth Tellers’ fault. They’d taken Hava from him, and in defiance he’d do as he pleased. But his conscience whispered to him, begging him to discover more.

  “Tell me. What really happened to your children?” he asked.

  For a moment he wasn’t sure if she would answer him. And then her voice came, a wistful, remorseful longing in her tone. “Blessed be the sacred dead. They were young, less than seven moons. Their father was Therian. It was forbidden, foolish on our part, but when one loves, all barriers are broken. When I discovered I was with child, I swore I’d do anything to protect them, keep them from hardship. But the Therian have always sought to undermine my domain. They captured my husband, my children, and claimed they would return them to me if I obeyed and kept the mountain folk from attacking Stronghold. The children got sick and died in captivity, at least that’s the story I was told.” Her voice rang with bitterness. “Their father died to avenge them and left me with nothing. Shortly after, I discovered the heart of the mountain, the power that dwells here, and I learned to use it. My domain may be safe, but Stronghold is the seat of power in the mountains, the place where we should all dwell with access to the gems of the mountains and the tunnels. It could be another mine, it could bring us wealth and riches, but the Therian are selfish. They want the kingdom of ice all to themselves.”

  Tor Lir considered her words, comparing them with what he knew of the history of the mountains. “During the war, the Rulers of the West united the mountain folk and gave Stronghold back to the Therian. What happened?”

  The Frost Queen gave a barking laugh. “What happened? What always happens once the good people are gone once a generation dies out or leaves? Those who search for personal gain will win again. The Therian have always been demanding and ruthless. They think themselves the rulers of the mountains. They need to know they cannot do whatever they want to do, or allow children to die. This strife is not how the Creator intended us to live.”

  The Creator? Tor Lir frowned but sensed the maddened edge in her tone. He quickly steered the conversation to a safer topic. “Tell me, what do you know about the Creator?”

  “What do you want to know about the Creator? Surely you studied the ways of the Creator as you grew up.” The Frost Queen brushed his words aside.

  “I grew up in the forests of Shimla,” Tor Lir told her, curious to see what her reaction would be. “The Iaens know deep secrets, but I never wished to dive too deep into their knowledge, for then they would have wanted to me to stay.”

  “And you wanted to leave,” the Frost Queen filled in for him. “Why is that? You look like a king.”

  Tor Lir smirked. “A queen raised me. But no, I did not want to rule. It was not my calling.”

  The Frost Queen cocked her head. “Perhaps it is. You held the Clyear of Revelation for a time. I’m sure it showed you something about your future that made you feel uncomfortable.”

  She laughed, a sharp sound that clashed against the crystals shaking above them. One fell, scattering shattered ice across the ground. Tor Lir recalled the Truth Tellers, and his eyes went dark. His horned shadow seemed to rise before him, and he recalled tales of Changers. He knew, with certainty, he was not one. Not one of that blotted race. But if not, who was he?

  Tor Lir sensed a warmth, and light as they came up aboveground, moving through arched hollows into daylight. They stood on a wide ledge which look out across the mountainside. Mountain ranges rose below and above them with a wild, craggy beauty. Tor Lir gave a sharp intake of breath, and his muscles relaxed at the sight of such beauty. “What is this place?” he asked.

  The Frost Queen moved to the center of the ledge, where a circle had been drawn in the ice. What looked like the sharp edge of a sword poked out of it. If Tor Lir did not know any better, he would have assumed the Frost Queen planned on stabbing him in the circle and offering his blood as a sacrifice to the Creator.

  Extending a finger, the Frost Queen rested it on the pointed tip. “Few are worthy to come here and see the edge of the world,” she whispered with reverence. “The mountains are dangerous and full of the unknown. Although many beasts have been captured and tamed, there are still some who remain in slumber, hidden from the world. In the days of war, the Heroes of Old captured the flying, fire-breathing beasts, dranagins, who lived under the mountains in the east. But no asked about what dwells under the mountains in the west, and no one thought to wake it up. Except for me.”

  She smiled—a wild, satisfying smile—and her throat moved as she swallowed. Her fur fell off one shoulder, leaving a glimmer of white skin glittering in the sunlight.

  Tor Lir felt something hard within him. She was cold. Relentless. Beautiful even. But desperate. She had lost everything and was bent on revenge. She had everything to gain and nothing to lose now. Her reckless actions and her mind were bent on one thing: the destruction of the Therian. He supposed they deserved it from her point of view, for their terrible actions. Another side of him wanted to understand more, and yet a wariness held him back. He was tired of the mortals and their problems, tired of figuring out their mysteries and trying to save them. Whether they deserved it or not. Hadn’t they fought the Great War against the immortals? Hadn’t they won? Why wasn’t it enough? Why all the scrabbling and warring between clans and people groups?

&nb
sp; Sometimes he wondered if he were the source of the chaos. But this, this was not him. It was the mortals. Try as he might to appease them and lay their worries to rest, another problem, another mystery appeared, demanding attention as soon as he solved the last.

  Emotion faded, and he gave the Frost Queen a blank stare. “What will you wake up?”

  “You travel with an Enchantress,” the Frost Queen skirted the question. “She tames monsters. I saw when I looked into the Clyear and it all became clear. You’re one of her monsters, aren’t you? And if I awake another, will she tame it?”

  Tor Lir thought of Morag the water beast, Grift the golden griffin, Ava the dragon with blue feathers, and Zaul, the oversized lizard. “Her monsters are her concern.”

  The Frost Queen laughed. “I thought as much. Give me your hand.”

  Woodenly he walked to her side and reached out a hand to touch the blade. Instead of cutting him it was solid, gentle. She pressed his hand against it, and he felt a hum; something vibrated within him.

  “There is a tribe of Ezincks that dwell here,” the Frost Queen remarked. “They call themselves the Tribe of Minas, and they are fierce warriors. In the past they had a deal with the Therian, a sacrifice, often an unwed female, in exchange for protection. Their number was dying out, as were the Therian, but after the war both parties grew in number. The Therian, however, did not stay faithful. They committed crimes against the mountain folk time and time again. They cannot be forgiven, so the Tribe of Minas came to me. I promised to help them, and now it is time.”

  “What is that vibration? That sound?” Tor Lir stood across from her, both hands on the ice now. He could see his reflection and hers in it, two individuals with a common purpose but different approaches.