Frostfire

by Amanda Hocking

  “We chatted a bit on the way to the office, talking about the party and how late it was.” Dad shrugged. “We were both tired, but it was all basic, nothing giving any indication that he was unhappy with me.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and then rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s why I never thought it was personal.”

  “He wasn’t mad at you. He was trying to get rid of the Chancellor,” I said, surmising what I’d long suspected.

  Dad nodded. “Right. I don’t know why he went after me and not the King or Queen. Obviously, they have more power than me. But maybe he planned on going after them next. I don’t know.”

  “What did he say to you once you got to the Queen’s office?” I asked.

  “First he had me looking around for the Queen’s document I was supposed to go over, which now I know doesn’t exist. I don’t know why he was having me search around her desk for something that wasn’t real, unless he was stalling for time, but I don’t know why he’d do that.” He rubbed his chin, contemplating.

  “You think he may have been putting off his assassination attempt?” I asked when Dad didn’t say anything for a moment.

  He shook his head, as if clearing it. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe he was just waiting for the right moment.”

  “Did the right moment ever come?”

  “Yeah, it must’ve.” He leaned back again, his eyes far away as he was lost in his memory of that night. “When I was bent over, digging through a drawer in the Queen’s desk.

  “Then Konstantin said, ‘Chancellor, I am very sorry.’ And I turned around, thinking he was apologizing for misplacing the paper, and I started to tell him it was all right. Then I saw that his sword was drawn.

  “I held up my hands, and I said, ‘You don’t have to do this. We can talk about it.’” Dad fell silent, letting out a heavy breath. “Konstantin shook his head once, and he said, ‘I have nothing I can say.’ And that was it.”

  “And then he stabbed you,” I supplied quietly.

  “I dodged to the side, not enough to miss his blade entirely, but enough so it missed my heart by an inch.” He touched his chest, rubbing the spot where his scar was hidden beneath his shirt. “I cried out, and I fell to the ground. And you came running in.”

  I knew how the rest of the story played out. With Konstantin apologizing to me. Then I charged at him and he stabbed me through the shoulder before escaping into the night.

  I leaned forward, looking up at my dad intently. “I need to ask you something, and it’s going to sound weird, but I want you to be honest with me.”

  “I always try to be honest with you,” Dad replied.

  “Do you think Konstantin wanted to kill you?” I asked him directly.

  He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and took a minute before speaking. “You know, I thought about that a lot then, and I didn’t tell anybody the truth, because it sounded insane. And then after he stabbed me, he’d hurt you, and I couldn’t forgive him for that. He had no business going after you. You were just a kid.”

  “Dad. You didn’t answer the question.”

  “The truth is … no.” He answered almost sadly. “I don’t think Konstantin wanted to kill me. I don’t even think he wanted to hurt me. It doesn’t make it any better that he did. In fact, it makes it worse. He nearly killed me and hurt you, for no good reason.”

  “Do you think…” I licked my lips, choosing my words very carefully. “Do you think maybe he had a good reason, and we just don’t know what it was?”

  “He could’ve killed you, Bryn, and there is no reason in the world that would’ve been good enough for that,” Dad said simply, and I couldn’t argue with him.

  If Konstantin had killed my dad, I wouldn’t even be asking what his reasons were. They wouldn’t have mattered. But since he hadn’t succeeded, I allowed myself to entertain the idea that something much larger was in place, something that made Konstantin an unwilling agent of evil.

  Even though I should only have vengeance in my heart, I found myself struck by something my dad had said. Or, more accurately, something Dad had said that Konstantin had told him right before he stabbed him: I have nothing I can say.

  Not there’s nothing to say or we have nothing to talk about. No, there was nothing that Konstantin could say, as if he hadn’t been allowed to.

  The more I researched Konstantin, the less I seemed to know. For the past four years, I’d been haunted by the fact that I had no idea why he’d gone after my father, and now his motivations left me even more baffled than ever before.

  He hadn’t even known my father would be there that late. Konstantin happened to stumble upon us in the hall. If Dad hadn’t been waiting for me, Konstantin wouldn’t even have had a chance to do anything.

  So why that night? Why that moment, when it wasn’t something he could’ve planned for? And why try to kill the Chancellor, and not the King or Queen?

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  borealis

  My mind was still swimming with what my dad had told me as I made the trek home in the darkness. The air was crisp and clean, even if it did leave my face icy, and I shoved my hands deeper in my pockets. The moon had begun to wane, but it was still bright and rather fat, illuminating the clear sky.

  It was late enough that the cobblestone roads leading away from my parents’ house were empty. Even the chickens and goats that frequently wandered the area had gone home to rest for the night.

  I heard another set of footsteps, echoing off the stone, coming toward me from a cross street, but I didn’t really register them. I was too lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out what I was missing with Konstantin.

  “You don’t see enough of me already, so you’ve resorted to stalking me?” Ridley asked, and I glanced up to see him walking over to me, grinning crookedly.

  “What?” I was startled by him, and it took a second for me to realize he was joking. Then I smiled back and motioned toward my parents’ place. “No. I was just coming from my parents’ cottage.”

  “Likely story.” He’d reached me, and we both stood in the middle of the empty road. “Care if I join you?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged and started walking north again, and he fell in stride beside me. “We’re gonna have to split off soon, though. Your place is west, and mine is east.”

  “We’ll worry about it when we come to it. For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have together,” he said simply.

  We walked for a little while, neither of us saying anything. I wished that silence had felt comfortable and easy between us, like it used to. But now it felt thick and heavy, filled with things that I didn’t want to say.

  “Aren’t you gonna accuse me of being the one stalking you?” Ridley asked finally, and he’d fallen a bit behind, so I slowed to meet his steps.

  “No.” I stared down at the road, watching pebbles crunch underneath my feet, and I found myself saying something I’d been trying to pretend wasn’t true. “I assumed you were coming from Juni’s.”

  “I was,” he admitted. “You don’t like her very much, do you?”

  “No, of course I like her,” I said, probably too quickly and too enthusiastically, but that had to be better than confessing how I really felt. “She’s fantastic and probably the nicest person that’s ever lived. What’s not to like?”

  “You say that, but you sound annoyed.”

  “I don’t mean to. I’m not.” I looked over at him, forcing the brightest smile I could manage. “She’s great. I’m happy for you. For both of you.”

  “Thanks,” he said, sounding as halfhearted as I had.

  “Just…” A lump grew in my throat, thick and suffocating, and yet I continued to talk around it, asking a question that I knew I shouldn’t ask. Even as the words fell out of my mouth, twisting my heart painfully, I wished I hadn’t said anything at all. “Why her?”

  “Why her what?” Ridley asked.

  “You dated all these girls for
so long, and when I say ‘dated,’ I’m using the word very liberally.” Words kept tumbling out as I struggled to explain away what I really meant. “Because you had a string of girls you saw maybe once or twice, and I get that Juni’s perfect.” I paused, remembering that she was actually amazing. “I mean, she is perfect. But…” I trailed off. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

  He didn’t answer right away, which only made me more nervous. My stomach churned, and my heart had begun to beat so rapidly, I’d begun to feel weak. Why had I said anything at all? Why couldn’t I just forget that I felt anything for Ridley? Why was it so hard not to want something I knew I could never have?

  “Things changed,” he said at length. “I’m getting older, and running around doesn’t have the same appeal. I realized that I don’t wanna do that anymore. That I don’t want to be that guy, and I’m sick of living like I’m just a kid without a care in the world. I care about things, I have responsibilities, and I want just one girl.”

  “That all makes sense,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if it did or not. I just wanted to end the conversation and move on to something that felt much less terrifying and painful.

  “Does it? I hoped it did. Sometimes I just ramble.”

  “I’ve long since suspected that.” I tried to keep my tone light, to make a joke of things, but I wasn’t sure if it worked.

  Either way, we didn’t say anything more, and we’d finally reached the fork in the road. A small, triangle-shaped sweets shop diverged the road into two paths—one going to the west end, where Ridley lived among the mansions, and one to the east end, where I lived in my loft above the barn.

  “Here we are.” I stopped and turned to face him, since it seemed rude to just walk away, even though I really wanted to.

  Ridley looked around, as if expecting to find something exciting. “Where are we?”

  “The point where we should split off.” I gestured to the two roads.

  “Why here? Why not keep going a block that way?” He stuck his thumb back behind him, at the road that led to his house.

  “The road splits here, and that’ll take me a block out of my direction.”

  “Then I’ll go that way,” he offered and pointed to my road.

  I shook my head. “That’ll take you a block out of your way.”

  “Maybe I don’t mind going out of my way. Maybe I like the extra detour.” He was smiling, but his eyes were serious. “Would it be so bad if I wanted to spend a few more minutes with you?”

  “It’s not bad. It’s just…” I stopped when I saw color splashing on his face, and I turned my gaze up at the night sky to the aurora borealis shimmering above us. “Look at that.”

  Vibrant blue shifting to brilliant violet light illuminated the ether in winding arcs. Stars glimmered like diamonds in the indigo sky as pulsating hues washed across the night sky in luscious waves.

  “Oh wow,” he whispered.

  “It’s amazing.” I stared up in awe at the dazzling colors dancing across the clear night sky. “No matter how many times I see the northern lights, I’m still stunned by how beautiful they are.”

  “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” Ridley said. There was something low and meaningful in his voice that made me turn to him, but he was already looking at me.

  “What?” I asked, confused by the somberness in his expression.

  “Before when we were talking, were you asking why her?” The aurora above us reflected on his face, and his dark eyes were filled with heat. “Or were you asking why not you?”

  “No. No.” I avoided his gaze and ran my hand through my hair. “I would never. No.” I swallowed hard. “I know why not me.”

  “Why not you?” he repeated.

  “Because it’s wrong.” I finally met his eyes and tried to smile at him, trying to play off the growing pain in my chest. “There’s a million reasons why not me, and you know them all. And you don’t … you don’t even want to anyway.”

  He smiled in disbelief at me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you practically since the day I met you. But I knew you would never let me.”

  “How would you know that if you never tried?” I asked, and then I was too nervous to even breathe, terrified of what might happen next.

  For a second he only stared at me, and I wished I’d never said anything. I wished I’d left my parents’ house five minutes sooner so I wouldn’t even have seen him at all tonight, and I wouldn’t be playing this stupid game where I pretend that we like each other or that we could ever be together. Because I know we can’t, and he knows we can’t, so it’s better if he just walks away. If he just turns around and leaves me here alone, but my heart is thudding painfully in my chest, begging him to kiss me.

  And just when I’m certain he won’t, and I’m about to turn and hurry away in shame, he’s there. His lips are cold, pressing hungrily against mine. His fingers knotting in my hair, pulling me to him. His stubble scrapes against my lips and cheeks, but I don’t mind, I like it. I love everything about him that feels so real, touching me, holding me.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, and I bury my hands in his hair. It’s longer and thicker than I thought it would be, and I feel the curls at the nape of his neck wrapping around my fingertips.

  He’s strong, stronger than I thought he’d be, and his arm around my waist is crushing me to him so hard that I can barely breathe. But I don’t care. I don’t want to breathe. I just want to kiss him forever, tasting him on my lips, feeling him against me.

  But then he pulls away, gasping for breath, but he keeps his face close to mine.

  And then suddenly, as oxygen fills my lungs, my senses take hold of me, and I realize exactly how wrong that was. I let go of him and step back, even though it kills me a little to do it.

  Ridley stands there, his arms falling to his side, as he watches me back away from him.

  “I have to go,” I say, because I can’t think of anything better, and then I turn and I’m running as fast as my legs will carry me, as far away from Ridley as I can get.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  contrition

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” Tilda said with ice in her voice, but she’d let me into her place, so it couldn’t be all bad.

  She lived in a small apartment above an electronics store. On the outside, the store appeared to be an ordinary shop, like a haberdashery from a village in a fairy tale. But inside, it was filled with slick gadgets—all of them a model or two behind whatever was most popular with the humans, since we did a horrible job of stocking and ordering things. Besides, there wasn’t that much of a demand for them in Doldastam.

  Still, Tilda’s apartment had to be one of the more modern spaces in town. Her furniture reminded me of the hotel I’d visited in Calgary, and she had a stainless steel dishwasher next to her sink—the only one I’d ever seen in Doldastam. A flat-screen TV sat across from her sofa, and while TV wasn’t unheard-of here, it wasn’t exactly a staple in every home.

  “So what is it that I can do for you?” Tilda folded her arms over her chest, and the loose fabric of her tank top shifted, showing the slight swelling of her belly that I should’ve realized the significance of sooner.

  “I just wanted to talk to you.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried not to visibly recoil under the scrutiny of her glare. “I needed to apologize for the things I said yesterday. I was out of line.”

  “Damn right you were,” Tilda snapped, but she stepped back from me, giving me room to move in from the entryway. She sighed and rolled her eyes before turning to walk into the kitchen. “Do you want anything? I was gonna make some tea.”

  “Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I said, following behind her.

  “Blackberry and hibiscus it is.” Her long chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and it swayed behind her as she moved around, putting the kettle on the stove to boil, and getting the tea and cups out from the cupboard.

  Then she turned back to f
ace me, her arms once again crossed over her chest, her gray eyes staring at me expectantly. “So? Where’s the apology?”

  “I am really and truly sorry for everything that I said to you at the meeting yesterday,” I told her emphatically. “I was upset about things that weren’t your fault and really had nothing to do with you, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You’re my friend, and I should’ve been happy for you.”

  “That’s true.” She relaxed a bit. “You have your own bag of issues with love and relationships that I don’t even wanna get into, but that is your deal, and you had no right to take it out on me.”

  “No. You’re absolutely right,” I agreed. “I acted like a jerk for no reason, and I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m very happy for you. If you’re happy and this is what you want.”

  “I am happy, and this is what I want.” Her whole face lit up when she put her hand on her stomach. “I love Kasper, and although this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I’m happy about it.”

  “You’ll make a great mom,” I said, and I meant it.

  She smiled gratefully at me. “Thank you.”

  The kettle whistled, so she turned away and poured the hot water into cups. Carefully, she scooped the fresh tea leaves from the tin, and filled two acorn-shaped infusers with the leaves before dropping them in the cups.

  “Now, what’s going on with you this morning?” Tilda asked as she handed me a cup.

  I leaned back against the counter and sipped my tea before replying. “What do you mean?

  “Bags under your eyes, your hair isn’t brushed, and you look like hell,” she said bluntly. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  I ran my fingers through my tangles of hair, trying to smooth it out, before giving up. “I got some sleep.”

  “So what was keeping you up?” she asked.

  Last night, I kissed Ridley, and then ran away so fast that by the time I got home I could barely breathe. It was a horrible, terrible mistake that I had no idea how to correct, but it was also wonderful and magical, and part of me—too large of a part, really—kept trying to figure out how to make it happen again.