by Katie Macey
Winter's Crossing
A Golden Fates Novel
Katie Macey
Contents
Title Page
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
About The Author
CHAPTER 1
Niamh’s fingers tingled with the thrill of success. Fighting to catch her breath she shoved her windswept, magenta hair out of her face. Was the forgotten art of flight finally within her grasp?
The city spilled down the rocky cliff-side, like tumbling children’s blocks, only halting at the ocean’s edge. High up, and wedged between a house and a lantern shop, lay Niamh’s grassy precipice of choice. Not only was it shielded from the road by a stubborn outcrop of greenery, it also gave a clear view to the Island Palace, the bay, and beyond.
Niamh shivered as the last of autumn’s warmth fled the bay. Fishing boats crept over the horizon, battling the choppy water to return to the docks. Shadows stretched. Procrastination wasn’t Niamh’s usual style, but then today wasn’t a usual day.
Beginning once more, Niamh moved through the memorised set. Weaving her hands in front of her, she practiced the old arts far away from judging eyes and any reminders of what tomorrow would bring.
Daylight drained from the sky as the hours raced towards Winter’s Eve. But ribbons of orange and pink streaming from the far horizon to the clouds above her gave her an excuse, however flimsy, to linger a little longer. Reaching up, Niamh felt certain the sky called her higher. To her delight, she saw she was making progress. Her hair floated like pink candy-floss, and her collar and sleeves lifted off her shoulders. Her arms felt weightless and Niamh was certain that if she leapt up, she would hover above the earth, held safe by the sky itself…until a flash of movement across her shoulder broke her concentration. Slamming down in a mess of grass and billowing skirts, Niamh huffed at the silver bird responsible. Shooing it away she said, “It’s alright for you. I’d practice somewhere else but…”
Niamh shook her head and straightened her skirt. She didn’t need to explain it out loud, least of all to a bird. Niamh took a deep breath and stared at the horizon. She wished she could see beyond it, past the Island Palace and over the horizon, even to Oplijah.
Oplijah. The Academy. The Temple.
Niamh watched the winged creature spring off the edge, diving down before darting upward again. It chased a dragonfly past a closed window, and sounds of pots and pans being put to use echoed through thin walls. Dragging her gaze away from the sea, and towards home, Niamh still hesitated. The city was a sprawling beautiful mess, but it squeezed her like a dress almost outgrown, uncomfortable and confining. It didn’t change the fact that she was nervous to leave it all the same.
Climbing to her feet, Niamh took one last look into the sky. She’d master it eventually, she was sure of it. Smiling to herself, she swivelled one of her boots into the dewy grass. This time she hovered weightless for a split second, before landing smoothly. Jubilant, she spun and slammed right into someone.
"Hey!" said Niamh. She thought she’d been alone.
Two boots poked out of a shrub laced with white flowers. Disturbed petals rained down over an indigo ribbon, tied in a loose bow around an ankle. Her fear of discovery melted away. Niamh would recognise those boots anywhere.
"I was supposed to meet you by the dock,” said Niamh.
"Is that what you call an apology?"
Niamh smiled at the rebuttal and helped the younger girl up.
"I didn't see you there!” said Niamh, stepping back to let her little sister, Ariana, dust herself off.
"You were meant to meet me ages ago,” said Ariana.
Niamh laughed at her sister’s pout and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"I was only practicing, well, you know,” said Niamh. “And besides, you're not that much younger than me.”
"You’re old enough to go far away," said Ariana.
"Not because I want to."
Ariana, her youngest sister, had spilled the contents of her basket across the path when Niamh knocked her down. Helping to gather up the expensive fruits, Niamh raised an eyebrow at Ariana as she returned them. Ariana frowned and quickly hid the basket behind her.
“I didn’t expect to get knocked over,” said Ariana, splaying one hand across the fruits, like hiding them now would make a difference.
“I promise to act surprised,” said Niamh, but she saw it made little difference to her sister’s dismay. She hadn’t meant to upset her little sister. Especially not tonight. But before she could think of what to do, Ariana spoke up again, “Do you have your letter?”
The blood drained from Niamh’s face, and she knew the whites of her eyes were showing. Ariana squeezed Niamh’s arm in an attempt to comfort her.
“Aunty is going to kill you,” said Ariana. Taking one look at the sinking sun, she added, “Go, you can still make it.”
Nodding quickly, Niamh tore past her littlest sister. Sprinting downhill towards the docks, she raced both the fading light and the shifting tide. She’s wanted to wait until spring, but it had to be tomorrow – the first day of winter. That’s what Aunty had said.
✽✽✽
The heavy smell of fish and salt hit Niamh before she saw the dock. Her skin shone with beads of sweat and she swallowed down a wave of nausea. Was it caused by the run, the smell, or her nerves? She couldn’t tell, but the sooner she met the shipmaster, the sooner she could get away from this place.
The last few fishing boats were unloading their catch. With mended sails, coils of rope, and mounds of slippery silver fish, Niamh was out of her element.
"Wary of the sea, miss?" an old man called to her from one of the fishing boats.
"I can't be!" she called back. He stared back at her, his weathered face crinkled into a puzzled expression, but she didn’t have time to stop and explain. She’d given herself no room for error. High above the fishy-smelling dock, her only thought had been to arrive at dinner as late as possible. But she’d forgotten about the letter. What good was a farewell diner, if you couldn’t leave? Nodding politely at the fisherman, she continued along the water's edge.
The Island Palace floated out in the bay. The ocean slopped around its base, and seafoam and mist made it seem further out than it really was. Niamh grimaced. The docks were her least favourite place. Hundreds of ships were tied to the docks for the night, dividing the sprawling city from the ocean with a maritime borderline.
Niamh checked each ship, looking at each one’s sign in turn, to find the one she needed. Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she passed ship after ship. Biting wind whipped her hair, she wished she’d gotten this over-with earlier. Most of the ships were empty, unloaded hours earlier.
Cluttered docks gave way to the wide and solid bridge that divided the bay into two cloven halves. The sudden interruption of fisherman life connected the city and the Island palace. Niamh paused, staring down the empty bridge. Its huge stones rested where they had for centuries, untouched by commoners like herself. A singing wind ruffled Niamh’s skirts and hair. Her fingers tingled again, but even one step across the bridge’s threshold warranted swift punishment.
A shout from a ship further around the bay brough
t her back to her current mission – collect the letter detailing her passage on tomorrow’s tide. Stealing one last glance across the bridge, Niamh hurried on.
Passing ship after ship, the whole bay a clutter of ships and hastily built docks, she winced as the sun dipped deeper and deeper into the sea. Peeking at the sailors on one ship, she witnessed a classic scene. One noble watched on, while many commoners laboured. He caught her eye and smiled. She hadn’t realised he was so young.
Niamh blushed, wishing she hadn’t stared so openly at him. She did her best to ignore him, but she’d reached the ship she had searched for. And it was unattended.
“Oh no,” said Niamh, resting her hands on her hips. Had she really left it too late? Pushing loose strands of hair behind her ears, she agonised about what to do next. Ariana had teased her that morning that she wasn't capable of organizing a long journey. Aunty's sharp look had silenced her immediately. But surely she hadn't completely missed meeting the ship-master.
“Niamh, right?"
She spun at the sound of her name and found herself face-to-face with that same young noble. He puffed loudly, out of breath. She didn’t even try to hide her grimace as she took a giant step backward.
"I thought fishermen were fit,” she said, forgetting her manners at his sudden and unexpected proximity.
"It's my first day,” he said. Then he waited for her to respond, like he didn’t know the rules.
"And your name is," said Niamh, trying to sound extra polite.
"It’s Finn,” he answered.
"I'm supposed to meet the ship-master,” said Niamh, still looking for anyone, besides this handsome noble, to help her.
Finn blanched and suddenly began stuffing his billowing white shirt back into his navy blue trousers. His hair grew long for a noble, hanging down to his shoulders. Clearing his throat, he stood up straight, lifting his chin a little higher.
"He's making preparations,” said Finn, his voice laced with practiced formality. “He expected you earlier…”
"I was busy,” said Niamh. She didn’t explain further, but wrung her hands and glanced at the darkening sky.
"Of course. Of course,” said Finn, filling the awkward silence. Then clearing his throat again he said, “He instructed me to give you this."
Finn handed her a sealed letter. Being careful not to touch hands, she took the envelope. Niamh broke its seal and opened it immediately.
"We sail before dawn," she said aloud, forgetting that this noble boy wouldn’t care in the least. But he surprised her.
"I envy you,” said Finn.
"Why? You sail every day,” said Niamh, waving the letter at the lapping ocean.
"Not beyond the bay,” said Finn. “But I hope to travel far away, and soon.”
They fell into silence, and unsure of what to say to this boy she didn't even know, Niamh dipped her head in respect and turned away.
"Good Travels, Niamh," Finn called after her.
Niamh wondered if he knew. Did he guess at the importance of her journey? But she saw his face turn toward the setting sun, and she realised Finn wasn’t thinking about her at all.
“May your Winter’s Eve bring promise,” she called back to him, silently berating herself at her own self-importance. Blue light deepened across the bay, and Niamh felt the crushing weight of her task. She’d avoided it until the last possible minute, but she’d still gotten the letter in the end. And no matter what her personal thoughts on the matter were, tomorrow she’d be leaving the city for the first time.
✽✽✽
Sinking into soft cushions, Niamh pried off her shoes and reached her cold toes toward the warm glow of the fireplace. Their windowless home was cluttered and dusty as always, but her chest ached with the knowledge that she had to leave it, even if only for a couple of months. She knew a bit about the academy at Oplijah, from letters, and others who had returned from their training. But no one said a word about what it was actually like. Niamh slumped even further into the sofa.
"Don't come in!" Aunty called from the kitchen.
Niamh chuckled despite her grumpy mood. The bedrooms and testing facilities at the academy should be the least of her worries. How could she get by without seeing this lot every day? The kitchen erupted with the clattering crashing of pans, and the laughter of her Aunty and two little sisters. Niamh knew they were trying to make tonight special for her. The whole city celebrated tonight. The last night of autumn was an important festival for all Gutheacians. But Aunty had made it more about Niamh’s farewell, tainting its usual revelry.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Niamh sat up, her hair messed by her crash into its cushions. Glancing at the closed kitchen door, she thought better of interrupting Aunty’s preparations. Pressing her lips together, she left her aunt and sisters to their excited activities without interference and answered the door.
Gusty wind, swirling with icy mist, rushed in. Niamh shivered.
A Palace Guard held out a blue envelope, entwined with a blue ribbon. Smoothing her pink hair, she looked up at the guard puzzled. Something seemed different than usual. Was he angry? Afraid? Niamh blinked as he grabbed her hand. He pushed the envelope into it roughly before leaving wordlessly and without a salute. Reluctant to interrupt the jovial mood inside, and completely confused by the guard’s behaviour, Niamh lingered by the door and opened the envelope carefully.
“No,” Niamh whispered, closing the door quietly behind her. But the chill of the icy wind clung to her and didn’t let go even when she moved closer to the fire.
She was bound for Oplijah, and on tomorrow's tide. Covering her open mouth with her hand, she kicked herself for even asking to put off her journey until the spring. Aunty had been right. There wasn’t time for that. Niamh’s conscience pricked her hard. Could she still make it? Attempting to muffle the sound of her tears with her hands, she fought the rising panic in her stomach. All their planning, and now she had so little time!
"Niamh!” said Aunty. “What's the matter?"
Niamh flew to her elderly Aunt and buried her face in the grey apron around her wide waist.
"Aunty, she is really going to miss us,” said Tatyana. “That is all that’s the matter. Aren't I right, Niamh?" Tatyana, Ariana’s twin, appeared at Aunty’s elbow, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the kitchen.
"What have you got there?" said Aunty. She snatched the proclamation out of Niamh's lifted hand.
"What is it, Aunty?" said Ariana, helping Niamh to her feet again.
"It is as I feared." Aunty looked even older, as worry lined her face. "Come, let me sit down. Gather around me, my children."
"I knew I was lucky to live here, Aunty," said Niamh as she moved closer to the fire, "but I don't understand how I can be so lucky and -"
"And Tatyana and Ariana -not?” said Aunty, as she shuffled back into the sofa. “They are lucky, for while the High King lives, they will stay with me."
Niamh ignored Aunty's simplified explanation to her sisters. She knew what they were. She, Ariana, and Tatyana were orphans. Aunty had taken them in while they were still infants.
“But we wear matching silver bracelets, all three of us, and yet my fate is so different from theirs,” said Niamh. “Why?” She’d never asked about it before, but on the eve of her departure, she found a new boldness.
“Hush, Niamh,” said Aunty, patting Tatyana’s soft hair.
Orphans weren’t given an education in Gutheacia, so none of them were admitted to the school. Aunty hadn’t pressed the issue but taught them as best she knew. Niamh drew her hand into a fist. It was so unfair.
“Your bracelets are worthless. Pretty trinkets, that’s all.” Aunty’s mouth pressed into a grim line.
Niamh deflated and regretted asking at all. Family was all the mattered, and here she was asking difficult questions and ruining the entire evening. They all knew that when the high king passed away, their family would be separated. Her sisters would be forcibly removed to a distant land, a
nd there was only one way to stop it. Niamh had to become a priestess to keep her family together. That's what Aunty said. A wrinkled hand rested over Niamh's own, and the old woman smiled through watering eyes.
"We've been so lucky, Niamh. All of us together. You three came to me, and I count myself the luckiest of women. You'll get your position, and our lives will stay as they always have. Oplijah will solve everything. It will all go to plan, you'll see,” said Aunty, letting Ariana help her up.
"I wish we could just stay together, without anyone threatening us, and without having to go so far away,” said Niamh quietly.
"If the High King knew what his laws were doing, I'm sure things would be different,” said Aunty. “But storming the palace is not an option for us.”
"Imagine if one of us had been found with the mark of nobility on us!” Tatyana mused, absentmindedly stroking the arm of the sofa.
"Yes, that would have fixed everything!” said Ariana. “We'd just march over the bridge, show off the riches we have," Ariana flashed her wrist around the room to her imaginary audience, "and demand that the laws change."
"The law can't change what we have girls." Aunty’s eyes crinkled softly as Ariana rewound her soft brown hair into its usual knot.
"But it could separate us,” said Niamh. She chinked her bracelet against her sisters’ matching ones. Hoping she hadn't put too much of a dampener on her going-away party, she added,
"But tomorrow, I will be on my way to fix everything. And I'll come back a priestess…and be so bossy, you'll both wish someone really would take you away."
The group dissolved into giggles and Niamh caught Aunty's appreciative smile.
Momentary relief relaxed Niamh’s shoulders. Her sisters were younger and didn't have the strength forged into them that Niamh did. Aunty had raised Niamh differently. She was the older sister, the caretaker, the…
"Oh! We have to finish the table!" Tatyana cried, throwing her hands up the air, loose curls bouncing on her shoulders.