by Giles Carwyn
MISTRESS of WINTER
GILES CARWYN
and
TODD FAHNESTOCK
GILES’S DEDICATION:
For my Samwise, who kept her promise to Gandalf.
TODD’S DEDICATION:
For Lara, my Brighteyes. Your gaze upon me lights my way.
CONTENTS
PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
MAP
BOOK ONE
A FORTRESS OF LOVE AND SHADOWS
PROLOGUE
The rain finally stopped, and the goddess went outside to…
CHAPTER 1
Ossamyr’s father called her a queen the day she left…
CHAPTER 2
Brophy’s feather fluttered in the breeze, bound to his neck…
CHAPTER 3
Ossamyr and Caleb kept the energy racing between them, holding…
CHAPTER 4
A gentle touch pushed at Shara’s shoulder. She opened her…
CHAPTER 5
Shara held her hand over the Sword of Winter’s pommel.
CHAPTER 6
I won’t let you do this,” Baelandra said to Ossamyr.
CHAPTER 7
You’ve sent her to her death,” Baelandra said, walking up…
CHAPTER 8
Wake up, my love. It’s time to go home.”
CHAPTER 9
Ossamyr spat salt water from her mouth and tightened her…
CHAPTER 10
The sky was blue, and the clouds had cleared away…
CHAPTER 11
Somewhere in the kitchen, a dish shattered. Issefyn suppressed a…
CHAPTER 12
All of Ohndarien gathered by the bay to welcome the…
CHAPTER 13
All of Ohndarien celebrated, but none so much as Astor,…
CHAPTER 14
Ossamyr coughed. A thin thread of seawater drooled from the…
CHAPTER 15
The black-lacquered walls of Arefaine’s stateroom glistened as if wet,…
CHAPTER 16
Shara stalked from the Hall of Windows, seething with frustration.
CHAPTER 17
Issefyn stood on the Long Bridge watching the Emperor’s flagship…
CHAPTER 18
You’re not going to drink it, are you?” Baelandra asked,…
CHAPTER 19
Shara couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough. The energy…
CHAPTER 20
Keep singing,” Arefaine shouted, grabbing the Heartstone off the grass.
CHAPTER 21
Issefyn stared at the Heartstone lying on the grass a…
CHAPTER 22
Astor and his father had just left the Citadel when…
CHAPTER 23
The smell of the rain had already faded, and the…
CHAPTER 24
Must we drag ourselves through the filthy streets of these…
CHAPTER 25
It had been suggested that Arefaine stay in her room…
CHAPTER 26
Lawdon ran across the Night Market. Her lungs burned, and…
CHAPTER 27
Shara winced as she awoke. She couldn’t see anything, her…
CHAPTER 28
Brophy,” Shara’s voice said softly.
CHAPTER 29
The Farad seamstress brought another dress from the back of…
CHAPTER 30
Shara slipped out of the thin silken robe and let…
CHAPTER 31
Lawdon hurried up the crowded street toward the Zelani school.
BOOK TWO
A SEASON OF WINE AND STEEL
PROLOGUE
Prince Vinghelt flailed against the hands that forced his head…
CHAPTER 1
Lawdon cursed her slowness. She cursed the damned optimism that…
CHAPTER 2
Phanqui struggled to keep the hatred off his face as…
CHAPTER 3
Shara stood naked on a hilly slope, her back to…
CHAPTER 4
Brophy faced east watching, waited for night to fall. The…
CHAPTER 5
That’s my luck these days,” Lawdon grumbled, fighting her way…
CHAPTER 6
Astor frowned as the corrupted snake threw itself against the…
CHAPTER 7
Shouts overhead woke her, and Ossamyr opened gummy eyes. Another…
CHAPTER 8
Issefyn’s hand twitched on the door handle. It felt as…
CHAPTER 9
Ossamyr awoke on a soft bed. She drew a deep…
CHAPTER 10
The warm winds of the Summer Seas blew across Lawdon’s…
CHAPTER 11
Moon Maiden slid alongside Laughing Breeze, and Lawdon gave a…
CHAPTER 12
Shara leapt over the ship’s rail into the rowboat, landing…
CHAPTER 13
Shara studied Lord Vinghelt as he moved through the crowd…
CHAPTER 14
Jesheks pressed the golden tip of his spiked pinkie sheath…
CHAPTER 15
Ossamyr leaned back in the little sailboat as Reef steered…
CHAPTER 16
Mother.”
CHAPTER 17
Glory of Summer was easily twice the size of any…
CHAPTER 18
Another sunrise crept over the watery horizon. Brophy had seen…
CHAPTER 19
Shara brushed her fingers through her long black hair and…
CHAPTER 20
Lawdon punched the man in front of her in the…
CHAPTER 21
The Ohohhim ship crept through the hazy darkness. Swirls of…
CHAPTER 22
Lawdon pulled herself dripping from the dark waters between the…
CHAPTER 23
Jesheks stood alone in his chambers feeling strangely dissatisfied. He…
CHAPTER 24
Lawdon woke with a plan.
CHAPTER 25
So, what does one wear to be tortured by a…
CHAPTER 26
You remember the plan?” Lawdon asked as she watched Mikal…
CHAPTER 27
Jesheks clapped quietly, peering through a window of the prince’s…
CHAPTER 28
Lawdon kept to the shadows, waiting for the wine to…
CHAPTER 29
Phanqui listened to the sound of his breathing, the beating…
CHAPTER 30
Shara’s eyelids flickered open. She swallowed down a dry throat,…
CHAPTER 31
The black-robed Ohohhim worked steadily and silently on their tributes…
CHAPTER 32
Lord Vinghelt stood in Glory of Summer’s kitchen scowling and…
CHAPTER 33
Shara held Jesheks’s hand in hers, keeping his gaze. His…
CHAPTER 34
Natshea returned under the cover of the stars and the…
CHAPTER 35
Astor leapt from the skiff, stepping in the boiling surf…
CHAPTER 36
We got trouble.”
CHAPTER 37
Astor sobbed in Brophy’s arms. The boy shook, and Brophy…
CHAPTER 38
Lawdon stood at the stern of her ship, Moon Maiden.
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
OTHER BOOKS BY GILES CARWYN AND TODD FAHNESTOCK
CREDITS
COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
Arefaine—ÄR-e-fn
Astor—AS-tôr
Baedellin—b-DEL-in
Baelandra—b-LÄN-drä
Brophy—BR-f
Caleb—K -leb
Celtigar—SEL-ti-gär
Efften—EF-ten
Emmeria—e-ME-r-uh
Faedellin—f-DEL-in
Faradan—FE-ruh-dan
Fessa—FE-suh
Floani—fl-A-n
Galliana—ga-l-Ä-nuh
Heidvell—HD-vel
Issefyn—IS-e-fin
Jesheks—JE-sheks
Kherif—KER-if
Koscheld—KÄSK-held
Koscholtz—KÄSK-holts
Lawdon—LÄ-dun
Lowani—l-ä-n
Mikal—mi-KÄL
Morgeon—MÔR-j-un
Natshea—NAT-sh
Necani—ne-KÄ-n
Ohndarien—on-DÄ-r-en
Ohohhim—-HÄ-him
Ohohhom—-HÄ-hum
Ossamyr—OS-uh-mur
Phandir—FAN-dr
Phanqui—FAN-kw
Physendria—f-SEN-dr-uh
Reignholtz—RN-holts
Shara—SHÄ-ruh
Suvian—SOO-v-un
Vallia—VÄ-l-uh
Victeris—vik-TER-is
Vinghelt—VING-helt
Vizar—vi-ZÄR
Zelani—ze-LÄ-n
Map
Book One
A FORTRESS OF LOVE AND SHADOWS
Prologue
The rain finally stopped, and the goddess went outside to play.
Grandfather Lewlem followed the sleeve of three-hundred-year-old Arefaine Morgeon through the Opal Gardens. The child’s bare feet stepped delicately along the rain-slicked mosaic path. An opalescent silk gown, bordered in black, covered her from chin to ankles, and her dark brown hair fell down her back like the single stroke from a giant brush. She walked as if her toes could read the songs of Oh that had been painstakingly wrought beneath her.
Little Arefaine turned her powdered face upward, transfixed by the May Dragon trees towering above her. Their thick trunks twisted into the sky as if each day they decided to grow in a different direction. A hundred feet overhead, the branches stretched to the horizon, their thick, spiny leaves still dripping from the morning rain.
“Why are the trees so tall?” she asked.
“It is in the nature of trees,” said Lewlem.
“No,” she replied. “These trees are taller than outside.”
It had only been two years since Arefaine had awoken, and Lewlem knew better than anyone what horrors the child had endured during the three hundred years that she slept. Was it any wonder that her eyes were fascinated by the towering trees, that her feet were enthralled by the mosaic path?
“Ah,” he said. “The imperial gardeners cultivated these trees for many years to grow so tall.”
“Culti…” she tried the word.
“Cultivated,” he said again.
“Cultivated,” she mimicked.
“Very good.”
She grinned up at him and was, abruptly, a three-year-old child again. “Come play with me?” she said, tugging on his hand.
The pain in Lewlem’s hip protested, as it often did these days, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to kneel beside her. “These bones are too old for playing.”
Arefaine frowned. “Bones not old. Come play.”
Lewlem shook his head, but she yanked her sleeve away and stuck out her tongue at him.
“Arefaine…Decorum follows grace, grace follows dignity, and dignity follows inner peace—”
“And inner peace leads to the voice of Oh,” the girl finished in perfect mockery of the familiar phrase. At a frown from Lewlem, she burst into giggles and scampered away, disappearing around a bend in the path.
With a slight exhalation, Lewlem struggled to stand and started after her. Every day presented a new ache, but he had one task to accomplish before he took his final walk.
In these last years, the shadow of Oh’s cave beckoned to Lewlem more and more. He looked back on his life and knew he was not a wise man. When he was young and unmarried, he dreamed of a life by the sword, longing to serve the Emperor as a Carrier of the Opal Fire. Then he married and came to aspire to a life of great wealth, many children, and at least five wives. But the plague took his wives and children, leaving him with an empty house until he lost his heart to a young widow with a face that shone like moonlight. He took the girl, already heavy with child, for his third wife and hoped they would share a few happy days before the fevers claimed them all.
The plague ended when the old Emperor took his last walk into the welcoming darkness of Oh’s cave. A few days later a line of three hundred priests appeared at Lewlem’s doorstep. They identified his newborn son as Oh’s chosen, the new Emperor, and Lewlem knew that dreams were foolish. He did not dream anymore, but instead listened closely to the quiet voice of Oh. His destiny was to raise an emperor and after, this little girl who held the fate of the world in her tiny hands.
Lewlem tracked the child’s giggles through the rain-soaked gardens and took a shortcut through the ferns to a row of sunberry bushes. The girl huddled between two thorny shrubs, grinning back along the path where she expected him to emerge. Lewlem slipped around the bushes and came up behind her. He stood there for a long moment, then whispered, “Caught you.”
She shrieked and leapt away, scurrying down the path. For the life of him, Lewlem saw nothing more than a vital and precocious child. She wasn’t the dreaming child, the infant goddess who held back the night. She was just a little girl. His little girl.
“Old bones,” she called from behind a tree. “Your bones not old.”
“Not true. My bones are old, but a quick mind can make up for old bones.”
She laughed, then looked at the nearby row of sunberry bushes. Quite deliberately, she plucked a berry from the bush.
“Arefaine,” he said in a stern voice, walking toward her. She popped the berry into her mouth and grimaced at the bitter taste. Though it pained him, he descended slowly to his knees. “Arefaine, I already told you, the berries will hurt you if you eat them. You must wait one more week until they are ripe.”
“No,” she protested. “I will…cultivate them to be ready now!” Again, she said the word with Lewlem’s exact tone and inflection, a perfect mockingbird who never forgot anything. She reached for another berry.
Lewlem gently took her wrist and pulled her hand away from the bush. “Come away. They will make you sick.”
“No!” she shouted, yanking back with all her might. “They’re mine! Mine!” Her feet slipped on the wet path, and she fell, smacking her head on the ground.
Lewlem scooped her up and held her close, fearing a howl of anguish that never came. Pulling back, he looked to see how badly she was hurt.
Black tendrils seeped from the edges of her eyelids, creeping across her pale blue eyes. “Put. Me. Down,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
Lewlem took a swift breath. “Arefaine, no…You must—”
Arefaine’s nostrils flared, and she reached out one little finger, stabbing him on the shoulder. Pain flared through Lewlem’s arm into his chest. He gasped and stumbled backward. His bad hip buckled, and he fell to the ground.
Arefaine fell on his chest, rolled to the ground, and stood up next to him.
Lewlem struggled to breathe, he tried to reach for her, but his arm wouldn’t move.
With her hands calmly at her sides, Arefaine touched her toe to his cheek. Fire spread through his face, down his neck, lodging again in his heart. His frail body convulsed, and he felt something rip inside his chest.
“Please, child!” he tried to say, but no words came out. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please…”
The roaring inside Arefaine’s head slowly calmed. The little girl blinked, and the howling voices faded into the distance.
Frowning, she crouched next to the old man, and poked him with a finger. He didn’t move; his unblinking eyes stared at the trees above. Frowning again, she toddled back to the bus
hes. Plucking several berries, she popped them into her mouth as quickly as she could.
“Now,” she insisted. “I want them now.” She smiled as the bitter juice ran down her chin.
CHAPTER 1
Ossamyr’s father called her a queen the day she left home.
She could still see the frightened little man kneeling before her in the vast foyer of his new home. His wispy hair hung limp over sunken cheeks still pallid from his long imprisonment. The emaciated man wore the blue, feathered cloak she’d just bought for him. It made him look like a very expensive scarecrow.
“Thank you, my daughter,” he’d whispered to her feet. “You bring honor to us all.”
His words were sincere, but the depth of his bow could not hide the look of relief—and pity—in his eyes.
That was Ossamyr’s wedding day, the day she had sold herself into royalty. She’d done it to save her family, to save that shadow of a man from the Wet Cells. She’d lied, seduced, betrayed, and murdered her way into the bed of a man she despised. And when she reached that bed, she had put on a performance the likes of which the king had never seen.
Ossamyr closed her eyes against her memories, plagued by a past she couldn’t seem to escape. She stood at the heart of the most beloved city in the world, within the most respected school in the world. She was surrounded by lovers, friends, and devoted pupils, but she had never felt so alone, so naked and exposed.