Queen of Ice (Through the Fire Book 2)

by Benjamin Medrano

  Fair folk were legendary for their varied appearances. Some could look almost indistinguishable from humans or elves, while others could look like almost anything alive, like the tree-like being she’d seen earlier on the street, or one at a corner who looked almost like a walking corpse, save that it was arguing with a man who looked like a stocky dwarf covered in scales. The only true commonality she saw to them were that they all had two arms, two legs, and walked upright, that and most of them didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold.

  “Is there anything I need to know about meeting the… Tower Lord? I’ll admit, I don’t know anything about him or his position,” Ruethwyn asked, choosing to avoid asking about the fair folk’s allegiance. It was something they were unlikely to share, after all.

  “There’s a lot to know, but what you need to know? That’s a trickier thing to answer,” Verdrina replied, circling around a stopped yak that was rooting through the snow ahead of them. “In a manner of speaking, you could call him the city’s ruler. He only meets those who have come with a petition for us, and he guards the gate the tower surrounds. Do not attempt to touch it, lest you anger him.”

  “I see. Well, I’ll try not to anger him, then,” Ruethwyn replied, her heartbeat quickening slightly.

  Verdrina laughed and smiled. “Ah, there’s not much you can do about that. He finds any intrusion annoying, so he’ll be cold to you at best. No matter what I may think of her personally, Essryl was right about standing your ground. At least that will assist in garnering his respect, however grudging it might be.”

  “Alright,” Ruethwyn said, looking up to glance at the glittering tower. It was beautiful, and from the closer distance, she could see the shimmering portal beneath it. The portal was blue-white energy that crackled and twisted, looking like it was a barrier of some type to her. She supposed that it made sense, if the tower was protecting the gate, and her teacher had called Valisair a place that stood between worlds.

  Soon enough they were at the tower’s base, though, and Ruethwyn saw several fair folk watching from a distance, little more than shadows in the eaves of their homes. As she looked up, Verdrina cleared her throat and spoke again, her voice gentle. “Alright, we’re here. It’s time for you to get out, Ruethwyn. Take the left tower’s door.”

  Ruethwyn blinked, looking down at the fair folk in surprise, asking. “You aren’t coming with? When you led the way, I thought you were going to be there as well.”

  “Oh, no. He wouldn’t want company for your petition,” Verdrina said, smiling. “You’ll understand once you meet him.”

  “Very well,” Ruethwyn conceded, standing and stepping out of the sleigh and into the ankle-deep snow around them. “Thank you for the advice and transport, Lady Verdrina.”

  “You are welcome, Ruethwyn. May the winds of winter blow in your favor,” Verdrina replied, then flicked the reins again, causing the ferrets to trot off.

  Ruethwyn watched her go, then turned to the tower. From this distance, she could finally gauge its height, and it was nearly three hundred feet tall. Even the portion where the towers met was a hundred feet above her head, and she shivered slightly, gathering her resolve.

  Approaching the door of the left-hand tower, Ruethwyn looked at it, the ice carved to resemble wood, then pushed on the door and watched it slowly swing open in front of her to reveal bare walls and a spiral staircase leading upward, the center wide open and without a railing. It wasn’t safe, but she hadn’t quite expected this to be safe. With a sigh and shrug, Ruethwyn began climbing the stairs.

  Every stair radiated a chill that cut through even the enchantments on Ruethwyn’s dress. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, but she could feel them, which caused Ruethwyn to shiver and wonder why they were so cold. She touched the wall as she climbed, ignoring the open space to her right.

  The climb was strenuous and before long Ruethwyn’s legs were complaining about the strain they were going through. More to her surprise, Ruethwyn felt like she hadn’t reached the parts where the tower began curving and frowned, wondering how far she’d ascended, so she looked down.

  “Oof.” Ruethwyn’s eyes went wide as she saw a yawning abyss below her, one that she couldn’t see the bottom of. The sight was a shock, and for just an instant she felt like she was swaying.

  Bracing herself against the wall, Ruethwyn took a deep breath to steady herself, murmuring. “Okay… that was a mistake. Either an illusion, or space isn’t what it seems here. There’s a gate, so probably the latter. Keep going.”

  Opening her eyes, Ruethwyn ensured that she couldn’t see the gaping hole below her, instead focusing on the ice steps ahead of her. The icy chill stinging her fingers helped keep her focused, and she began to climb again, her resolve growing as she did so. The stairs might seem endless, but that just made them another test.

  So she kept going, focusing on nothing but climbing each stair in turn. Slowly it began to seem like she could tell differences between the stairs, subtle differences to the ice in their hues, the fracture lines running through them, and even whether or not they had anything else inside them. It was distracting, but Ruethwyn preferred that to the sight of what was below.

  The end of the stairs came abruptly. One moment, she was looking at a dozen stairs ahead of her, and the next, she stood before a broad door of white stone, the surface of it embossed with an intricate symbol in ice. She blinked for a long moment, almost stumbling as a raised foot found no stair ahead of her, then let out a breath and reached for the door.

  Before she could touch the door, it swung open silently before her, revealing a cavernous chamber of ice and stone, much of it enveloped in shadow. She hesitated, then stepped inside, her footstep echoing softly as she did so.

  “Hello?” Ruethwyn asked, her voice echoing, yet almost swallowed by the room.

  The sound of the door shutting behind her caused Ruethwyn to spin around. It took a moment before she relaxed, then turned back.

  What greeted her was Resvarygrath, and the dragon was only inches away, his head lowered so that each of his immense golden eyes could stare into hers, as his smoky breath caused her dress to ripple.

  Ruethwyn’s heart nearly stopped as he spoke in a deep rumble. “Ruethwyn Sylaris, student of Sinera. I wonder, should I kill you where you stand?”

  Chapter 41

  “Again?” The word escaped Ruethwyn’s lips even as her heart skipped a beat, an instant of panic almost overcoming her. She didn’t lose control despite the fear that washed over her, and a second later she glared at the draconic form inches from her. “Is this how Valisair greets guests?”

  The dragon pulled away slightly, looking at Ruethwyn coldly. A moment later, it asked, “What do you mean by again?”

  Ruethwyn fought down a surge of anger, her heart racing from the panic that had washed over her. If the room hadn’t been empty before the dragon appeared, she might have truly thought it was Resvarygrath. Even so, she couldn’t help the sense of anxiety that his appearance caused. Still, he had asked a question, and as much as she wanted to criticize whoever it was, she held herself back.

  “I had someone decide to test my resolve not long ago by conjuring a weaker version of Resvarygrath, one which I couldn’t defeat head-on. It wasn’t more than two weeks ago, so I don’t appreciate someone else trying the same thing,” Ruethwyn replied crossly, briefly trying to cross her arms in front of her, and her annoyance only increasing as she remembered she only had one arm.

  “I see. However, you’re incorrect about something. I am not testing your resolve, child,” the dragon rumbled, half-circling her. “I am the Tower Lord of Valisair, and my form is mutable. I take the form of your most feared enemy, though in your mind it appears that it was a near contest between two forms. I did not choose this shape, you did. Do not blame me for your own failings.”

  “Oh? Well, that wouldn’t have happened if I’d been warned of what was coming, now would it? You appeared from nowhere moments after I entered the room, in a shape m
ade to cause panic. What did you expect?” Ruethwyn retorted incredulously, much of her fear beginning to fade.

  The dragon snorted small streamers of flame, circling her slowly. She watched the immense figure warily, since even a single one of those claws could bisect her with ease. A tiny part of her was asking why she was antagonizing the dragon or fair folk or fey, whichever it was… but another part of her was too angry to care, especially with Essryl’s advice running through her mind.

  “Mortal children. So disrespectful, when they come before us to request our aid,” the Tower Lord rumbled derisively. “I did not care for your teacher, nor do I care for you. You intrude into lands which are not your own and make demands of us.”

  “Demands? What demands have I made of you?” Ruethwyn asked, stunned and frustrated in turn. “I came here to ask if it was possible for the curse afflicting my body to be removed, and to see if I could find a way to pay for it. I never was going to demand assistance. If you’re going to accuse me of such, at least choose something that I’m guilty of.”

  “Well said, Ruethwyn.”

  The dragon’s head whipped around to look into the shadows at Zaria’s voice, and Ruethwyn’s mouth fell open as the fey stepped out of the darkness. Zaria was wearing the same snow-white dress Ruethwyn had seen her in when she’d been summoned, and she smiled at Ruethwyn warmly as she slowly walked toward them, her pale blue skin glittering in the light.

  “Lady Seventhstar, what are you doing here? This is not your domain,” the dragon said, a hint of surprise in his voice, along with unhappiness.

  “I am here on behalf of My Lady, who is well aware of your opinions of Sinera. She suspected that your reaction would be poor and asked me to intercede,” Zaria said, smiling at Ruethwyn as she added, “You didn’t summon me, Rue, so I didn’t have a chance to ask you how you’d guessed about me knowing more about the Frostglades than I said.”

  “Hello, Zaria, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Ruethwyn replied, giving as graceful of a curtsey as she could manage. “As for that… later, I think.”

  She could feel something in the air now, a strange frozen sensation, and she suddenly realized that she hadn’t been able to feel the pressure of mana on her since entering the chamber, at least not until Zaria had appeared. With the nymph’s presence, so much more powerful than when she’d been summoned, the room’s mana had stirred, and she understood why at last.

  The mana in the room was simply too dense for her to properly detect, it’d been like a still pool of water that Zaria had disturbed and revealed to her. That was unsettling, to say the least, because it meant that either the Tower Lord was more powerful than she’d thought, or that the entire tower was incredibly powerfully enchanted.

  “And it is good to see you. You’re looking slightly better, I think…” Zaria murmured, then looked at the dragon and her smile grew a slight edge to it. “I see that you’re not taking the form of my greatest fear, this time.”

  “The meeting is for Ruethwyn Sylaris, not you,” he replied coldly. “I am also allowed to have my opinions of outsiders.”

  “Yes, yes… but you will not drive them off without so much as hearing their petitions.” Zaria’s voice was sharp now, and her tone pointed. “I may not have your power, but the rules are in place for a reason.”

  The conversation was a bit distracting, but it also gave Ruethwyn a little time to get her emotions under control. She didn’t like how she’d acted, no matter how she’d been confronted by the Tower Lord.

  For a long moment, the room was filled with a near-frozen silence. Then the dragon snorted another blast of fire as he rumbled. “Fine. Ruethwyn Sylaris, what is it that you seek?”

  Ruethwyn blinked, then replied as calmly as she could manage. “As I said before, I am here to seek a way to remove the curse which prevents my injuries from being healed, that I might make my body whole.”

  “A simple matter for one of my power. However, what price are you willing to pay for this?” The Tower Lord asked, facing her directly now, raising his head high and looking down on her.

  “What it takes. So long as I retain my life, my freedom, and the tools with which to attempt to rescue those that Resvarygrath took from me, I’m willing to pay whatever else is necessary,” Ruethwyn told him, steeling herself. She’d heard of many potential prices that the fair folk could demand, some of which were truly cruel.

  “I see. If you wish your curse removed, then—” The Tower Lord began to speak, but stopped abruptly as the room began to shimmer with brilliant light.

  “Oh my… no wonder My Lady sent me,” Zaria murmured, looking around and smiling gently.

  Every surface of the chamber was glowing now, revealing intricate magical runes that burned with purple and blue light, runes that covered the ceiling far above them and the floor beneath Ruethwyn’s feet. The sheer power flowing through the room caused her to tremble, and Ruethwyn opened her mouth, then shut it, unsure of what to say.

  “Are you certain?” The Tower Lord asked, looking up. In response, the runes glowed still brighter, and the dragon sighed, looking down at Ruethwyn with obvious unhappiness in his eyes. His voice was gruff as he spoke again, sounding like someone whose tooth had been pulled. “It appears that you’re being offered a trial by the patron of Valisair. Such trials are difficult, should you undergo it, but whether or not to attempt them is your own decision.”

  “Ah, what sort of trial are you talking about?” Ruethwyn asked, blinking in confusion.

  “Below us is the portal to the intersection of the planes of air and water, in particular to a place known as Crysandia Reach. There is a road there that leads to our patron’s palace,” the dragon explained impatiently. “If you can reach its gates, you will be granted your wish. Should you go farther, you may achieve additional favors beyond this.”

  “That being said, the rules are strict, Rue. You will not be allowed magic, nor anything but a simple robe or dress that will be provided to you,” Zaria quickly added, glancing at the Tower Lord again. “You’ll be protected by another spell, but all it can do is prevent your death from cold; it won’t protect you from pain or other distractions.”

  “That… doesn’t seem difficult,” Ruethwyn replied, then paused and thought more closely and winced. “Wait, nothing but a dress or robe? No shoes or anything else?”

  “That’s correct,” the Tower Lord confirmed, grinning at her. “You’ll be unprotected from anything but death, girl, and should you stray from your path, many beasts would happily consume you. Furthermore, this offer is only made once. You may not consider for a time before deciding or wait for advice or rest. If you wish to risk our patron’s trial, you must decide right here.”

  Ruethwyn hesitated, trying to decide what to do. The intersection between the planes of air and water… she couldn’t imagine how bitter the cold likely would be. Yet at the same time, it was a chance to potentially even be healed by the mysterious patron of Valisair. Part of Ruethwyn suspected that the one who could command Zaria and the Tower Lord must be a fey queen, and such a powerful being could certainly heal her.

  So finally she nodded, speaking softly. “I agree. I will undergo the trial.”

  “Very well. To undergo the trial, you must swear on your very life and soul not to spread tales of what has happened here in Valisair. Otherwise, this offer will be revoked,” The Tower Lord told her sternly, his eyes flashing.

  “As you say. I swear on my life and soul that I will not share what has happened in Valisair with any others, save if I’m given explicit permission to do so,” Ruethwyn agreed.

  Zaria smiled and looked at Ruethwyn encouragingly as she nodded to her. “Good luck, Rue. I hope to see you at the palace.”

  Before Ruethwyn could reply, the fey seemed to turn to snow that was blown away by an immaterial wind. Ruethwyn closed her mouth and looked back at the dragon, which grinned at her.

  “I’ll send your things back to the guest quarters. Personally, I hope you fail,” the
Tower Lord told her bluntly.

  With a wave of its claw, brilliant blue light wreathed Ruethwyn, and she suddenly was elsewhere. It felt like every bit of warmth to her body was suddenly ripped away by a howling, frozen wind. Biting pain stabbed into Ruethwyn’s right side and she gasped, looking around in shock.

  She’d thought that the Frostglades were a frozen wasteland, but they were practically a paradise in comparison to what she saw around her. Snow drifts looked like they were formed into hills and even mountains all around her, and immense, roiling clouds billowed above her head in banks that seemed to rise without limit, even as snow fell from them in thick flakes that were driven by that freezing wind.

  Behind her was a simple ice arch, beneath which was a shimmering portal, this time as stable as the rift through which Ruethwyn had once stepped toward a plane of fire. It was only a second after that when Ruethwyn’s eyes widened, though, for the peaks in the distance looked familiar. As if she’d seen them through the portal before.

  “Is this…?” Ruethwyn murmured, looking around, then she shivered, looking down at herself. “Never mind, of course it’s where I opened the rift to. Gods preserve me, I’m cold.”

  She was wearing little more than a hemp dress that stretched down to her ankles, and her feet already were reddened from the chill, the snow turning to slush beneath her feet and feeling like they were sending icy needles up into her. As tempting as it was to turn and run through the portal, instead Ruethwyn turned again, and looked at the narrow, snow-covered pathway leading through the drifts of snow.

  Thinking back to the Tower Lord, Ruethwyn muttered. “Jerk. I don’t like you either.”

  And with that she started walking, shivering as the wind cut through her clothing.

  Chapter 42

  The feeling of frost prickling through her skin had quickly become a close companion of Ruethwyn’s, as did the ice forming in her hair and freezing her nose hairs. The burn scars across her body were screaming with agony far worse than anything else, though, and at times it was all Ruethwyn could do to take a single step forward.