Shadow Frost (Shadow Frost Trilogy Book 1)

by Coco Ma

  Behind her, King Jakob’s body lay splayed out across the floor. One hand gripped the shaft sticking out of his chest, blood seeping between his fingers.

  His heart—pierced by a single black arrow.

  Beside Asterin, Luna smiled.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  “No,” Priscilla whispered. “Jakob.”

  The crying grew unbearably shrill. Broken, anguished sobs wracked her body and grated against Luna’s ears, making it hard to focus. She could only pray that the real King Jakob was far away as she poured every drop of energy she had into her illusion of the king’s body, an imaginary shadow arrow protruding out of his chest.

  If it had been anyone else, Luna would have felt terrible. But not her—not now. Luna felt powerful, more than she had ever been in her entire, helpless life. Something warm settled in her stomach. Satisfaction.

  Everything has a price, Mother.

  Priscilla had held Luna’s life in her hands for so many years. But no longer.

  Luna would make her pay.

  She hoped that the image of Jakob’s dead body would be forever seared into Priscilla’s mind. She hoped it would haunt her every time she closed her eyes. She hoped it would cause her as much pain as she had caused Asterin. She hoped it would drive her over the edge.

  Luna pressed a hand to her mouth and staggered away from her masterpiece, rounding on Priscilla. “What have you done?” she cried. “He came back for you, and you killed him!”

  To Luna’s everlasting delight, her mother flinched. “I—I didn’t do anything!” Priscilla cowered beneath Luna’s disgusted stare. “I have no idea how … It was an accident. Jakob, forgive me!” she wailed. “Oh, my love, forgive me—”

  “It’s no use now, you witch,” Luna spat. “He’s dead!”

  Priscilla howled, burying her face in her hands.

  “Luna,” Asterin said, voice hoarse. Her hands clutched desperately at Quinlan’s wounds, the cut on her own face still dribbling gray sludge. “The dark magic … his pulse is getting weaker and weaker. He’s dying, Luna, and I can’t heal him.”

  “You can,” Luna whispered ferociously. “I know you can. You must.”

  At the sound of their voices, Priscilla’s neck swiveled toward them. She pointed a gnarled claw at Asterin, her eyes rimmed with crimson. “This is all your fault,” Priscilla rasped, every word laced with fury. “I will end you.”

  Luna screamed as Priscilla fired a shadow arrow, aimed straight for Asterin’s heart.

  It stopped not an inch short of its destination.

  “Or better yet,” Priscilla said, eyes glittering as they flicked from Quinlan to Luna, something truly ugly overtaking her expression. “I will break you.”

  And before Luna could comprehend her meaning, two black masses slithered from Priscilla’s palms toward them. One leapt at her, and the other at Quinlan, slipping beneath their chins and yanking them upward.

  The coil of shadow only tightened around her neck as Luna struggled, Quinlan hanging limp beside her.

  Fight, Luna. You’re better now. She kicked and screamed, fighting the darkness creeping upon her.

  For Asterin, she fought.

  Asterin’s words echoed in her head. I sure as hell won’t lose you to her.

  For Asterin, Luna refused to break.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  When Eadric finally came to amidst the wreckage, he could hardly recognize the ballroom. With a groan, he tried to push himself up only for his arm to collapse beneath him, pain shooting through his wrist. His uninjured hand came away red when he brushed it across his temple.

  Ears ringing, he heaved himself to a sitting position, the dull thud of his own heartbeat intermingling with the low moans and faraway shouts. Breathing deeper revealed the stab of a fractured rib or two. Holding his injured wrist close to his chest, he flexed his other hand, gripping his affinity stone, and summoned his magic to help him onto his feet. He attempted to heal himself as best he could, which, frankly, wasn’t very good at all, but he had survived worse. At least the gashes from Garringsford’s sword had clotted.

  Surveying the damage, Eadric realized that Priscilla must have escaped. Several people—guests and guards alike—lay on the ground, unmoving. Dust floated thick in the air. A pillar had collapsed, and past it he saw a hole that had been blasted through the far wall, wisps of black, putrid smoke still curling from the rubble.

  Where was Asterin?

  She had been right in front of Priscilla when the woman had released that demonic explosion. Eadric prayed to every Immortal he could think of that she had managed to shield herself in time.

  Eyes stinging from the smoke hanging in the air like a thick veil, he scanned the faces around him, trying to find any of them—Asterin, Rose, Orion, Quinlan.

  “Eadric!”

  He spun around. A man with a prominent serpent tattoo winding around his neck clambered over the fallen pillar, his dark hair lengthening and lightening back to gold even as he approached.

  “What are you doing?” Orion exclaimed. “Don’t just stand there!”

  “Where’s Asterin?” demanded Eadric.

  “Went after Priscilla already, come on.” Orion slung an arm around Eadric’s waist and swiftly guided him over the pillar. “You sure look beat up.”

  Eadric only grunted in response. The other side of the ballroom had fared better than he’d expected, though that wasn’t saying much. He spotted Rose flitting about, sending up swirls of debris as she brandished her affinity stone, healing people left and right. That mysterious figure in gray from the earlier battle trailed behind her, his knives sheathed at his sides. He had taken off his hood—Eadric caught a brief glimpse of his flat, stormy expression and a shock of unruly white hair.

  “Any internal injuries?” asked Orion, glancing at the blood dribbling down Eadric’s temple.

  “Rib and wrist, but I healed them. Sort of.”

  Orion raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I see.” He waved his arm. “Rose!”

  The Queen of Eradore rushed over to them. She placed a hand on Eadric’s chest, as if she could sense his pain, and muttered under her breath. He winced at the tugging ache of the bones mending at her touch. Two deft fingers prodded at his wrist, then pushed back his matted hair to heal the gash on his forehead, her gold eyes meeting his. He found comfort in their steadiness.

  At last, Rose exhaled. “Better?”

  “Better.” He stepped away. “Thank you.”

  “Are you coming?” Orion asked Rose.

  “A lot of people here are injured. I need to help them first,” the Eradorian said. “But I’ll be there as soon as I’m finished with the worst of it.”

  “Captain!” Eadric heard someone call.

  He turned to find Gino jogging over the rubble toward him. “Gino,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Are all the other Elites all right?”

  Gino bobbed his head, gelled hair sticking up in every direction. “We’re still evacuating guests. Asterin told us to stay here, sir, but we wanted to tell you that we found a trail probably leading to her location.”

  “If we aren’t back in a quarter hour, come after us. Bring reinforcements, and do not underestimate Priscilla.”

  Gino saluted. “Understood.”

  Orion tugged at Eadric’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

  They left Rose and the ballroom behind, dodging the stream of evacuees, and tore through the corridors, their path unmistakable thanks to the black sludge leading down the hall and up the grand stairway. They followed it up three flights and dashed left, where they found the end of the trail leading through a pair of double doors—or rather, the gaping hole that remained. Eadric could hear the screaming and yelling of a duel beyond.

  Orion sprinted for the hole, only to be launched sideways back into the corridor by an unseen force. He sailed into the air
and crashed through a window in a shower of glass.

  “Orion!” Eadric rushed to the window, expecting to find a broken form on the ground far below. To his relief, the Guardian clung to the stone ledge of the shattered window, bloodied and peppered with cuts but otherwise unharmed. Eadric grasped him by the forearms and heaved him back to safety.

  They approached the destroyed doorway. Eadric aimed a kick at the hole, but it was blocked by some sort of invisible air barrier.

  Orion’s eyes widened with terror, staring beyond the hole. “Almighty Immortals.”

  Eadric followed the Guardian’s gaze. Inside, Harry lay crumpled beneath a melting shell of ice that protected him from being crushed by the remains of a fallen column. Eadric shoved Orion aside for a better view and saw a grinning Priscilla, pupils blown to bottomless pits of hatred. And closer, just a few paces from the door, Princess Asterin on her knees.

  But nothing could have prepared Eadric for the sight of Quinlan and Luna—his Luna—being yanked up by nooses of pure shadow, their bodies dangling five feet off the ground. Quinlan appeared to be unconscious, but Luna thrashed and clawed at her noose like a lion, face steadily purpling.

  Eadric could have sworn his heart stopped beating. “What are Luna and Harry doing in there? They were supposed to—”

  “Never mind that,” Orion exclaimed. “We need to get inside.”

  Together, they blasted magic at the air barrier, dodging whatever ricocheted back at them.

  “It’s no use,” Eadric panted, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to throw his affinity stone out of the window Orion had broken. He saw Asterin raise her palms, struggling to conjure two pitiful shields. “It’s too powerful.”

  Orion let out an animalistic snarl and pitched himself at the hole again. Eadric lunged forward, preparing to seize the Guardian when he went flying, but to his astonishment, Orion fell right through and landed in a heap on the other side.

  A burly man with sandy-gold hair appeared beside Eadric, the crown on his head tipped askew. “You’d better hurry if you want to save my daughter.”

  Daughter?

  But instead of dwelling on the thought, Eadric just thanked the Immortals above and plunged through the hole.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Shackles bore down on Asterin’s every muscle, each limb driven so far beyond exhaustion that she could scarcely move an inch. So when Priscilla wrapped those nooses of shadow around Luna’s and Quinlan’s necks, she could do nothing but watch.

  She had never felt so worthless in her life.

  “Aren’t I wonderful?” Priscilla sang. “I’m giving you a choice. Isn’t that what everyone always wishes for nowadays? I hope you have it in you to save one of your friends, Princess Asterin. If you don’t … well, you’ll just have an extra funeral to attend.”

  Two arrows appeared, one on each side of Priscilla.

  And suddenly, Asterin understood what she meant by a choice.

  Priscilla was making her choose between Luna and Quinlan.

  The world ground to a jarring halt.

  “And I’ll tell you what, dearest Asterin—I’ll even count down from ten,” Priscilla went on with a cheery smile. “Ready?”

  Asterin heard a crash behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look.

  “Ten … Nine …”

  Asterin’s eyes widened. She attempted to conjure two shields of energy, but they both glowed so weakly that she could barely see them.

  “Eight …”

  Asterin gritted her teeth, her heart hammering in her throat, and summoned every last drop of energy in her body to squeeze into her shields. Immortals help her—Harry—but no, he was still unconscious.

  “Seven …”

  The shields solidified, but still … still they couldn’t have been thicker than a pane of glass. Neither could deflect Priscilla’s arrows alone, which of course Priscilla knew. The only way would be to combine the power of the two shields into one … to choose. But … who would she choose? How could she choose?

  Or better yet, I will break you.

  Asterin cursed quietly, begging herself to try harder.

  “Six—oh, this is taking forever.” Priscilla giggled, the sound like the scrape of knives. “Three …”

  The oxygen in Asterin’s lungs vanished in one whoosh.

  “Two …”

  Her body quaked. Oh, gods, oh Immortals, the shields wouldn’t be strong enough.

  Luna or Quinlan?

  “One.”

  The arrows flew.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  As the arrow whistled toward Luna, her imminent death was nothing compared to the ugly emotion that rushed through her when Asterin collapsed the two shields together and threw it … not before her, but before Quinlan.

  Asterin had chosen Quinlan over her.

  Asterin had chosen Quinlan over her.

  After all these years, after so much together … death was nothing in the face of this betrayal.

  Luna released a choked sob and forced her eyes wider. She would not close them. She was not afraid of her death, not after this—and she vowed to greet her end without fear.

  But all she could see, replaying over and over in her mind, was Asterin collapsing the two shields to form one and hurling it to protect a person she had only met months before.

  Making her choice.

  A sudden burst of lightning blinded her. This must be death, she thought as she prepared to embrace the darkness. But she didn’t expect the stench of sulfur or the overwhelming metallic taste filling her mouth, much less the sight of the shadow arrow dissipating before her, the debris just nicking the tip of her nose while Asterin’s shield deflected Priscilla’s other arrow from Quinlan. Luna hardly noticed when the constriction around her neck released, nor the coolness of the marble tiles against her heated skin when steadfast arms caught her and gently lowered to the ground.

  She wished she could have fallen—fallen and broken every bone in her body. It would have been better than this hateful, aching emptiness within her.

  Appearing out of nowhere, Eadric reached forward to brush Luna’s cheek, but she turned away. He tensed, little bolts of electricity jumping up and down his hands, but eventually retreated. In the end, he had stopped the arrow meant for her. He had been her savior.

  “Luna!” her best friend cried, rushing over to her. Luna did not move. She felt Asterin’s trembling arms wrap around her, holding her close. The scent of home enveloped her.

  Because for Luna, Asterin was home.

  Asterin was everything to her.

  And like a fool, she had never, not even for a second, doubted that Asterin felt the same way.

  She had been so blind.

  “You chose Quinlan,” Luna whispered.

  Her eyes trailed down from where Orion hovered over Quinlan, still unconscious. The Guardian applied pressure to the dribbling gash in Quinlan’s stomach. Even now, with the prince soaked in a puddle of black sludge and his own blood, his face as pale as snow, a stray curl of dark hair sticking to his damp forehead … she wanted to hate him. She really did. But how could she?

  Asterin faltered. “I—I know. I could only choose one of you … and …”

  “You chose him over me. Your best friend.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but—”

  “I can’t believe you, Asterin,” Luna breathed, ignoring the swell of tears rising past her bruised throat.

  “But I love him!” Asterin burst, throwing her arms toward Quinlan. “I love him, and I love you, but I listened to my heart and that was the hardest decision I have ever made in my life and I hope to the Immortals that no one, and I mean no one will ever be forced into that kind of situation.” Asterin panted, her grip tightening. “Luna …”

  Asterin’s fingers suddenly felt like claws.

 
Something in Luna shut off. It corked her every emotion before it had the chance to bubble to the surface, stopped her from feeling.

  “Asterin, I don’t know how long I can keep this up,” Eadric said through gritted teeth. The electricity jolting from his arms fed into a sphere of white lightning imprisoning Priscilla in the center of the room. Every time the woman tried to get close to the surface, Eadric upped the voltage and zapped her. She snarled at him, but she had gone slightly cross-eyed.

  Asterin swallowed. “Luna—”

  “No,” Luna breathed. “It’s fine.” She pried off Asterin’s hands, banishing the tendrils of bitterness from her stomach and tilting her lips up in what might have been a smile. “Forget it. We have more important things to deal with. Like my mother.”

  Eadric glanced sideways at Luna, his attention still mainly on the sphere. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m alive,” she said. “Thank you for—” Her voice hitched slightly. “For being there.”

  “You don’t ever have to thank me for that,” Eadric told her. Then, to Asterin he said, “The Elites should be arriving with backup any minute now, so we just need to keep Priscilla imprisoned until then.”

  “Asterin,” Orion called, standing up over Quinlan. “Staunch this wound. I need to get Harry.”

  Asterin seemed torn between staying by Luna’s side and going to Quinlan, but Luna swallowed and jerked her chin. “Just go.”

  Without another word, she complied, shedding her cloak and using a discarded arrow on the floor to shear off strips of fabric to bind Quinlan’s stomach.

  While Eadric continued to struggle with containing Priscilla in the sphere, Orion ducked beneath Asterin’s ice shell to retrieve Harry, who seemed to just be awakening. Both of his legs and one arm were twisted in strange directions, so Orion picked him up and carried him out from under the shell to where Asterin hovered over Quinlan. Even as the demon blinked himself awake, his limbs began righting themselves, bones popping and cracking back into place.

  Not moments later, boots squealed in the hallway and Rose skidded through the hole. She took one look at Quinlan and sprinted for him, dropping to her knees and sliding the last few feet, her hands engulfed in green light. “What—” Her voice cracked. “What happened?”