Queen of Ice (Through the Fire Book 2)

by Benjamin Medrano

  Ruethwyn took a step away from the carriage before it started moving, not wanting to risk her feet. As the wagon clattered off, Barton headed for the manor, asking Sella questions about how she enjoyed the school year as they went. Ruethwyn followed, listening quietly and feeling slightly amused. Her father had never been as talkative as Barton was, and that helped her a little since it set him apart from her parents.

  They stepped into a small antechamber, one with a rug to wipe their feet on, a couple of coatracks and shoe racks, and with two doors out of it. Barton took the one to the right, explaining. “This is my office, and it has a few enchantments to help avoid eavesdropping. They’re not incredibly powerful, but hopefully we won’t need something that potent.”

  The office was small, with a couple of cabinets and a worn desk that had obviously seen years of work, especially since Ruethwyn could see several circles from where mugs had worn through the varnish coating it. A paperweight was holding down a few documents, but rather than sitting in one of the three chairs in the room, Barton half-sat on the desk.

  “I don’t think it’s that important, I just don’t want to cause a panic,” Tadrick said, glancing back as Korima shut the door behind them. Sella sat in one of the chairs, and Ruethwyn hesitated, then leaned against the wall.

  “Fair, so what’s this about?” Baron asked, frowning. “I assume that it isn’t something that will make me happy.”

  “First, Sella? Did you tell him about what happened with Rithara?” Tadrick asked, turning his attention to her.

  “Only the things that were known publicly. I didn’t want to share the stuff Sir Alaran and the others were keeping quiet,” Sella said, looking at her father guiltily as she added, “Sorry, Father.”

  “No, that’s fine, especially since I heard he did a lot to keep you safe. I’ve heard a few rumors about Lord Elisir’s actions, but nothing for certain,” Barton said, frowning heavily.

  “Well, the truth is that the Earl was working with a cultist of Larimos. That’s who created the chimeras, and a large part of why they insisted on keeping it secret,” Tadrick said grimly, shaking his head. “It was a rather unpleasant situation.”

  “Larimos? Guardian preserve us, what are those deviants doing in Selwyn? Gods damn him for working with them…” Barton visibly shuddered, then looked at Sella in worry. “What does that have to do with your trip? I’ll admit that this doesn’t make me happy.”

  “You aren’t the only one,” Korima muttered, scowling.

  “Agreed. Ruethwyn was the only one of us who is really known to have been part of the fight with the Earl, probably because she’s so distinctive. We’re guessing that’s why they seem to have sent an assassin after her,” Sella said unhappily. “The night we left Tyrness, she was shot in the shoulder as we stopped at an inn, and the attacker got away. Then we were attacked again in the woods this morning outside Corwal, and it was nasty.”

  “They what? How do you know that it was the cult of Larimos?” Barton asked, his gaze intense as he looked at Ruethwyn.

  “The woman in question stabbed herself in the chest with a dagger, then mutated into a massive, demonic form that looked vaguely like some of the demonic creatures we saw over midwinter,” Ruethwyn replied, looking at him calmly, tapping her fingers against her leg. “She also regenerated from all our attacks, at least until Tadrick ripped the dagger out of her, at which point she and the dagger melted into a red sludge.”

  “I burned it all, since Tadrick didn’t want to risk the forest getting contaminated,” Korima volunteered and wrinkled her nose as she added, “It smelled horrible.”

  “Isn’t that the thought of nightmares? I’d best send out scouts to check the area, and maybe ask for a priest or two from Corwal to come check on things,” Barton said, his face turning grim. “I wish I knew more about the dangers, but we’re on the opposite side of the country from Palto, and there’s plenty of intervening territory. I haven’t needed to know before this.”

  “If I were you, I’d suggest sending a report to Sir Alaran Whisperblade, since we know he’s aware of everything going on. I believe he has the ear of Her Majesty as well, so the information would definitely get into the right hands,” Tadrick suggested. “In addition to sending it up the chain of command, I mean. I’m just worried.”

  “For damned good reason. I entirely understand why you wanted to talk about this in private. I’m not going to tell my people the full details, but I’m also not going to leave them ignorant. I’ll also have to send a message to Jepharrine since she’ll want to know about something like this,” Barton said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he looked at Sella. “Quite the mess you brought home this time.”

  “It isn’t my fault!” Sella protested instantly. “How was I supposed to know this would happen?”

  “You weren’t. Ah, well… this is going to complicate things, but that’s the nature of life. I think the enemies you pick up is quite telling about the quality of person you are,” Barton said, sighing and nodding. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you, and I should’ve welcomed you to Waterstone earlier. If you’ll keep quiet about the details of things, I’d appreciate it, but I’m going to be busy for a bit. Sella, why don’t you take them to meet your mother?”

  “I can do that,” Sella said, standing up and smiling.

  “Ah, Sir Barton? Would you like me to write down what details I remember about the assassin and her transformation? I’m not sure how much good it’ll do, but I think I can remember more now than I’d be able to later on,” Ruethwyn offered a bit nervously.

  Barton blinked, then smiled at her. “That’d be quite appreciated, Ruethwyn. Let me find some parchment for you.”

  “Rue? Do you want us to wait?” Sella asked, hesitating for a moment.

  “No, I doubt this will take too long,” Ruethwyn replied, smiling at her and taking a step toward the desk. “Thanks, though.”

  “Alright. Come on, if I know Mother, she’ll probably be in the sewing room,” Sella said, opening the door and leading the others out of the room.

  Barton was pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, and Ruethwyn took the moment to sit. After a few seconds, she spoke calmly. “I’m sorry about bringing danger near Sella. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have traveled with her.”

  “Huh. Reading between the lines, I’d guess that, in that case, you might be dead,” Barton replied, looking up and setting the quill on the desk, his gaze impassive. “I’m not claiming that it makes me happy, but it appears that no harm’s been done so far.”

  Ruethwyn’s tension eased slightly and she nodded, repositioning the inkwell and taking the quill as she smiled slightly at him. “I’m glad you feel that way. I wouldn’t have blamed you for being upset with me. I’m more concerned that they might realize the others were involved and send people after them.”

  “That’s definitely a concern, and one that I may have to keep to myself. Probably not, since Wenna will realize something’s wrong,” Barton said, sighing heavily.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I think I’m going to move up my plans a bit,” Ruethwyn replied, starting to write steadily. Her handwriting was neater now, but still not as graceful as when she’d had her right arm.

  “Oh? How so?” Barton asked.

  “Originally, I was going to take a few days to meet you, at Sella’s request, I might add. I was also going to take a couple of days to ask about the Frostglades before heading into them,” Ruethwyn explained, pausing as she debated on how to explain the woman’s appearance, trying to remember exactly what she’d been wearing aside from the dagger belt. “I don’t think that’s the best idea anymore. Where there’s one assassin, several more might be lurking, so I think I’m going to try to leave tomorrow.”

  “No,” Barton said flatly.

  Looking up at him, Ruethwyn blinked at the expression on the man’s face. He looked like he was ready to stare her down, especially with his arms crossed in front of him. After a moment, she asked, “M
ay I ask why?”

  “You’re not going into the Frostglades tomorrow,” Barton said, shaking his head firmly. “I don’t care what books or other descriptions you’ve heard of them before, the Frostglades are dangerous. You need to rest at least a day or two and talk to people about them before daring to go in there.”

  “That was my original plan, though I have a few advantages when it comes to frozen terrain since I have an ice fey I can ask for advice and guidance,” Ruethwyn said, shrugging. “I’m not going to argue with you if you insist on me waiting. I just don’t want to endanger anyone by staying here.”

  “Maybe you’d be alright, but I’m not risking that. Half the reason I patrol this section of the border is to keep people from going in there to get themselves killed,” Barton said, nodding to the north. “Sella wouldn’t forgive me if I let you go without warnings. I know she’s talked to you about some of it, but Sella hasn’t gone that deep into the Frostglades before. At least you need to stick around and ask some questions for a day or two. After that, it’s your own choice.”

  “I can do that. Thank you, Sir Barton,” Ruethwyn conceded, then went back to writing.

  “Not a problem,” Barton replied, falling silent for a minute. Eventually, he asked, “So, how’re Sella and Tadrick getting along? They seemed to be doing well from the letters, then Sella’s cooled off, and I couldn’t tell how it was going just now.”

  “Um, well… I don’t know. Not great, that’s for sure,” Ruethwyn said hesitantly.

  “Oh? Why’s that?” Barton pressed curiously.

  “Well, for one thing, his brother and him were kind of fighting over her around midwinter, after the attack. I don’t think it made her feel very happy,” Ruethwyn explained, trying to keep things vague. “That started some of the issues, I’d guess. Then he invited himself along on this trip. He didn’t even tell us that he was coming until he showed up with the carriage, saying that he’d contacted you and arranged to bring us here. She was very unhappy with him, and I think the only reason she isn’t actively angry with him is because I was attacked, and it kind of diverted her attention.”

  “Oh, gods…” Barton covered his eyes and sighed heavily. “That isn’t a good approach with Sella. In fact, I’d say that’s a terrible approach. Sella may seem mild-mannered, but she can hold a grudge until it dies of old age. She reminds me of Jepharrine, if Jepharrine could be bothered to be polite.”

  “Really? I’ve never seen that from her,” Ruethwyn said, blinking in surprise.

  “Really,” Barton said, his voice grim. “If you haven’t run into her like that, I’d say that you’ve been lucky and haven’t annoyed her enough to cause a grudge. My suggestion is simply to avoid it at all costs.”

  “I’ll try to do that,” Ruethwyn said, going back to writing. As she wrote, though, she tried to imagine Sella being that vindictive, and she just couldn’t manage it.

  It was an odd thought.

  Chapter 31

  Wenna Vintas resembled Sella far more closely than Barton did, though her hair was lighter and she was quite a bit shorter than her daughter. She was also friendly and an attentive hostess, if prone to fussing over their comfort a little too much for Ruethwyn’s taste.

  “Are you certain you don’t want any mulled wine, Ruethwyn? Or a couple of biscuits?” Wenna asked, hovering just a few steps away.

  They were gathered in the living room of Waterstone Manor, as Ruethwyn had learned the building was called. The manor belonged to whomever was currently in charge of Waterstone, but despite that, the house had obviously been their home for quite some time, as there were a lot of personal touches scattered through the building. The living room had a fireplace and two large sofas, as well as a couple of chairs around a large rug and a few side tables. All the furniture was what Ruethwyn’s parents would have referred to as well-loved, and Ruethwyn appreciated the fire since the area had cooled off quickly as the sun set.

  “Thank you, Lady Vintas, but I’m fine. I don’t eat that much, and dinner wasn’t long ago.” Ruethwyn refused the offer gently, shaking her head. It was true, too. She’d been encouraged to eat a little too much at dinner, and her stomach was uncomfortably full. It was the brownie that she’d had for dessert, she was sure. That had been so heavy that it was sitting uncomfortably now.

  “Well, if you’re certain…” Wenna said doubtfully, and Sella laughed.

  “Mother, let her be, please? We just barely had dinner, we don’t need even more food,” Sella said, smiling at her mother from her spot next to Ruethwyn.

  “Oh, fine. I just don’t get important guests that often, and you all graduated from Tyrness Academy! It’s so exciting!” Wenna replied with a huff.

  “Ah, while we may have passed the apprentice class, that’s not considered graduation,” Tadrick corrected, looking a little uncomfortable as he sat in one of the chairs. “To graduate from the academy requires passing the trials of mastery, and I’m pretty sure most of us are a fair way off from that. Except Rue, maybe.”

  “Ah, I didn’t know that! What about you, dear?” Wenna asked, looking at her husband, who laughed as he sat back in his chair.

  “We were told about it by Jepharrine, dear, but you were so excited that I’m not sure you heard her,” Barton said, smiling back at her. “The difference is that as long as they pass the first year, there’s no time limit in place for the students to pass the trials, from what she said. Even passing those tests is quite an achievement.”

  “Ahh, of course! Well, I was rather ecstatic when Jeph told us about things, so I suppose I might’ve missed the explanation,” Wenna said, finally taking a seat next to her husband, her eyes shining with curiosity as she looked at Ruethwyn. “I only had enough talent to kindle a fire or make a light as a child, so I just… it’s exciting! Are you really that close to passing your trials, Ruethwyn, at such a young age?”

  “Well…” Ruethwyn began, hesitating, then jumped slightly as something soft tickled against her arm. She glanced over and blinked as she saw that Korima had flicked her tail over, and the tip had brushed against her arm. Korima grinned unrepentantly, and Ruethwyn frowned at her, then focused on Wenna again.

  “My original teacher said that if I tried, I should be able to attempt the trials of mastery by the end of my first year, but that was before I was injured,” Ruethwyn explained, frowning as she flexed her hand. “The damage it dealt… well, I was right-handed, and that has made it a slow process to re-learn things. I can’t cast spells as quickly, and I’m not as precise as I used be. If that wasn’t enough, drawing on my mana is a lot like driving red-hot needles through my veins. I lost a lot of ground over the last year, though I made gains in artificing, so I doubt I’d be able to pass if I attempted the trials now.”

  “Rue! Is it really that bad?” Korima demanded, her smile vanishing. “You told me that it hurt to channel mana, but you never said it hurt like that!”

  Ruethwyn shrugged, ignoring the look of pity from Wenna as she looked at Korima steadily, her voice calm. “Yes, Korima… but I wouldn’t change my decisions. It’s not something you really get used to, but as much as is possible, I’ve adapted.”

  “But—” Sella began, only to stop as Ruethwyn shook her head.

  “Sella, unless I was willing to give up magic entirely, this isn’t something that can be overcome. My choice is to live with the pain or lose my magic. I’ve chosen to keep using my magic,” Ruethwyn said, then smiled gently as she added, “Besides, it’s not completely hopeless. Master Mara and Grandmaster Cora told me there are people who could rebuild my mana core and mana veins out there. Eventually, I’ll have time to find one of the people who can do the job, and life will be better again.”

  “Really?” Barton asked, leaning forward in his chair, a hand on Wenna’s arm. “I’ve always heard that damage to the mana core is catastrophic.”

  Ruethwyn nodded firmly, smiling at him. “Yes, though it won’t be easy. Grandmaster Cora said that it takes a grandmaster mage in
the spheres of energy and life at a minimum, as well as the knowledge. She doubted that anywhere this side of the Temple of the White Host could manage it and suspected it would take a few years even then. Master Mara had a better solution, though. He pointed out that if anywhere had the information and the practitioners to perform healing like that, it’d be the Great Library of the Karakar.”

  “The Great Library? Well, I suppose that’s a thought… though that’s a long trip on its own,” Barton said thoughtfully. “Why are you in such a hurry, anyway? I know that you’re going into the Frostglades in the hopes of getting the curse removed, the one that’s keeping you from being healed, but Sella didn’t mention why you were doing that.”

  “Well, that’s a bit…” Ruethwyn hesitated, looking at the others, and then sighed and decided to throw caution to the wind. The teachers at the academy knew, Essryl knew, and Alaran knew, so why did it matter if someone else knew? So she looked at Barton and explained succinctly. “When I survived Mellesyn, the dark elf who kept me alive was so amused by my resistance that she said that she’d keep anything bad from happening to the women taken for two years if I chose to attempt their rescue. Her name is Essryl, and she scares me. A year has passed, but I don’t want to make them wait any longer than I have to, and I refuse to give up on them.”

  The room went still, until Korima suddenly laughed, her voice bright. “Now that’s a story in the making, Rue! Not that it wouldn’t need to be polished a bit to make the telling better, but it’s a story worth telling, especially if you succeed.”

  “Rue, are you sure that you’ve thought this through? Everyone I’ve heard of facing the dragon has just, well… died,” Tadrick asked, looking concerned as he leaned forward in his chair. “My father showed me a list of the people that’ve gone after him, at least the ones they know of, and there were a lot of people on the list.”

  “I’m well aware of how dangerous it is, and while I’m brave, I’m not suicidal. Going up against Resvarygrath in my condition wouldn’t be brave, it’d be pure stupidity,” Ruethwyn replied, shrugging. “I’ve made tools which I’ve been saving to try to infiltrate his palace. Several potent wards against detection, some invisibility charms, a few dispelling charms, and some other things as well. All of them are extremely potent, since I need to guarantee they’ll work, and that meant making limited-use items. That’s what I’ve spent most of the school year on, really, and why I haven’t used the things I’ve made during the year.”