Frozen Reign

by Kathryn Purdie

  “I know she was. The name, Verusha, sounded familiar. I searched and found it on one of the older gravestones here at the convent.”

  Curious, I sat up and pulled the journal in my lap, flipping through the pages for more symbols of Feya. Every so often I found more than one in a family. “Dasha and I both descend from the Romska,” I said. “Motshan told me that’s why our power is—was—similar. It looks like Sestra Mirna proved that other Auraseers are also connected through their ancestry.” Chewing my lower lip, I added, “Do you think the empire asked Sestra Mirna to keep this record so the bounty hunters could find us more easily?”

  “Yes, she did whatever possible to help them capture us.”

  I stared at Nadia in dismay until her sardonic tone finally registered.

  She rolled her eyes. “Wake up, Sonya. Do you really think Sestra Mirna would have done anything to endanger us?” She climbed up beside me and brought the candle with her. “Look, the page for Dasha names Katerina Ozerova as her mother. Sestra Mirna made a vow to the dowager empress to keep that knowledge a secret. She wouldn’t write it in a public record.”

  I leaned back. “Then the sestra kept this journal for her own purposes.”

  “So she might one day find new Auraseers,” Nadia added, showing me places where the genealogies branched downward to girls and women who were alive today, among them first and second cousins of Auraseers who had recently lived in the convent. “Sestra Mirna dedicated her life to Feya, not to the empire or even Riaznin. She wanted this convent to be a sanctuary for all Auraseers.”

  “It should be a place of refuge—especially with our nation at war—but only for those who choose to come here.”

  “Yes.” Nadia’s jade eyes were fire bright, reflecting the candle and what seemed to be a new conviction inside her. “So that’s why I’m going to stay. I figure I have one of two choices: tag along with you and feel even more unimportant and useless, or do something meaningful here.” She thumbed the deckled edges of the pages. “This book lists the birthplaces of possible Auraseers. I’ll write to them. If they want to be trained and given protection, I’ll offer it.”

  “What if your letters get into the wrong hands?” If Valko won the civil war, he’d seek to own all Auraseers again.

  “Tosya has asked some of his Romska friends to help deliver them.” When Nadia said Tosya’s name, she slightly averted her gaze. The two of them were barely on speaking terms, but his offer of assistance was a good sign that he might forgive her one day. “No one should suspect any tribespeople of being couriers. The nomads are known to keep to themselves.”

  I studied Nadia, the most ambitious girl I’d ever known. “Will all of this make you happy? Running a convent isn’t what you imagined for your life.”

  “Who else is going to do it—you?”

  I lowered my gaze.

  She fell quiet for a moment, idly chasing her finger through the candle’s flame. “I always thought becoming sovereign Auraseer was the most girls like us could hope for. Now I see how narrow-minded that was. If I’d have gotten what I wished for, I would have still felt owned and boxed in. I deserve more. All of us do. We should have the chance to live up to what we’re really capable of. That’s what I want to be a part of now—providing a safe place and an education for Auraseers, so we can become what the empire tried to deny us.”

  I reached out and clasped her hand. She stiffened under the affectionate gesture—we’d never had an easy relationship, never shared the kind of embraces Pia and I had exchanged so freely—but Nadia’s fingers gradually relaxed under mine. “I should be here helping you,” I said. “The convent is almost empty of Auraseers because of me.”

  “But you need to go to Estengarde.”

  I gave a small nod. “I promise to teach you what I learn from Madame Perle.”

  She grinned sadly. “My scars run too deep for healing, I think.” My eyes fell to the ropy striations along her skin, though I knew she was speaking of her emotional trauma. “Your duty to Auraseers is larger than this convent. The fire here was horrific, but perhaps Feya’s hand was in it. You became sovereign Auraseer instead of me, and because of that the emperor abdicated the throne.” Nadia drew a long breath and turned her hand over so it cupped mine. “Riaznin needs you, Sonya.” She squeezed my fingers. “I don’t begrudge you that anymore.”

  Two hours later, I stood outside the convent, fussing with my mare’s bridle one last time. Finally satisfied, I brought down Raina’s head and leaned my own against the auburn star on her brow. Beneath her sunny smell of hay, there was wintry peppermint, honeyed dust, and sweet grass. Despite all my anxieties about this trip, a thrill of excitement ran up my spine. I itched for adventure after all my months at the convent. “I’m glad you’ll be with me, girl.” I rubbed Raina’s long white neck.

  A warm hand touched the small of my back. “Ready?” Anton asked.

  I startled, not knowing he was so close. In the past, I would have sensed him coming by his aura. I eased my guard and leaned into him. “Yes.”

  His regiment of eleven soldiers was already on horseback and awaiting his lead. Tosya was with them. He planned to find the Esten Romska, who lived in the Bayacs, to see if they’d be willing to welcome the Riaznian tribes across the border in case our nation became too dangerous for the nomads during wartime.

  I pulled up into Raina’s saddle, and Anton mounted Oriel. Nadia stood on the convent porch, her arms wrapped around her waist. My chest constricted when I didn’t see Genevie. I wished I could have told her good-bye.

  As our party headed for the open convent gate, I heard the sound of another horse trotting behind the others. I turned to find Genevie riding out from the convent stables.

  “She’s coming with us?” Tosya asked.

  My brow wrinkled. “Not that I know of.”

  Genevie’s cheeks were flushed when she caught up to us. She ducked her head, passing through the soldiers, until she reached me. “I cannot let you go alone,” she said.

  “I’m not alone.” I looked at the men around me.

  “You have no Auraseer, no one to sense danger coming.”

  I swallowed, stung by the reminder that I had no ability to do the same.

  “Valko might come after you when he finds out you’re alive,” she added.

  “And if you come with us, you might set that bounty hunter on our trail.”

  She cast a worried gaze at the forest, but then tightened her hands on her reins. “I can warn you about him, too. I know the mountain roads better than any of you Riaznians. And in Alaise, if the king refuses to let you meet Madame Perle, I know a secret way into her chambers. I promise to be valuable to you.” Her eyes were large, her brows peaked, I didn’t know whether in anticipation, pleading, or fear.

  “Why are you so eager to return to the place you ran from? If Floquart finds you—”

  “I’ll disguise myself.” Genevie reached across our horses and took my hand. “S’il te plaît, Sonya. This is important to me. Esten Auraseers are still trying to escape. I want to help them, just like you are trying to help your people.”

  I snuck a glance at Anton. From where he sat on his horse, a few yards ahead of us, he couldn’t hear our hushed voices. He wouldn’t like the idea of someone joining our party to do something illegal. It would hurt our chances at achieving an alliance.

  “You have inspired me,” Genevie continued, taking a deep breath and holding it. “I want to be brave like you.”

  Another weight of pressure dropped on my shoulders. This was partly why I was so resistant to be a symbol of hope to people. It only encouraged them to do foolhardy things. If Genevie was arrested in Estengarde, I’d feel responsible. But how could I deny her her desire to help her people when that’s what I was setting out to do, as well? “What about the Esten Auraseers on the way to the convent?”

  “I’ve talked to Nadia. She’ll take care of them. I have to think about the others in Alaise.”

  I deliberated, fle
xing my boots in Raina’s stirrups. “Very well.” Who was I to tell Genevie she couldn’t join us? “Just let me be the one to tell Anton about your plan to help more Auraseers escape, all right?”

  She nodded, breaking into a radiant smile. “Thank you, Sonya.”

  I tamped down the flare of misgiving in my belly. “You’re welcome.”

  I knew full well I was leading my new friend into danger.

  I only hoped I could help her escape it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I URGED RAINA FORWARD AS SOON AS THE PATH WIDENED SO I could ride beside Genevie again. She would be the first to sense an ambush. She’d be the only one to. All kinds of threats could be out here: enemy soldiers, the bounty hunter, Valko, or even Shenglin spies. I especially worried for Anton. He may not have been the major general of Riaznin’s armies, like Feliks, but he was still an important member of the Duma and the driving force behind the revolution. As such, and with only a small company of soldiers to protect him, this journey needed to be as inconspicuous as possible. We crossed main thoroughfares only when necessary, which meant the narrow trails often forced us to ride single file.

  Our company made a quick stop at midday when the horses needed water. Anton and Genevie ducked beneath a shady tree to study a map. I followed, anxious to be useful, though I had no knowledge of the roads.

  Drawing near, I caught the last fragments of what Genevie was saying, something about a quicker route to the western pass through the Bayac Mountains.

  “I agree traveling through forestland gives us a straighter course,” Anton replied. “And, yes, the trees would grant more cover, but they’ll also slow us down. We’d have to pick our way through thickets and unknown terrain. No villages are nearby, so there may not even be hunting paths in those woods.” He pointed to a miniature cluster of sketched trees.

  I leaned forward to have a closer look, when someone burst out from behind a tall shrub.

  I shrieked like a child, then saw it was only Tosya. I smacked him in the arm. “Don’t startle me like that.”

  “I found blackberries!” he said, opening his hands to show me.

  “Shh, the whole forest will know we’re here.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Relax, Sonya. Genevie will tell us if anyone is nearby.”

  She glanced up with a modest smile. “We are alone for now, so Tosya is free to shout about his berries.”

  “You see?” He jostled my shoulder.

  I shrugged away. “Genevie can’t sense as far as your voice can carry. Take a care to not get us all killed, will you?”

  He jutted out his lower lip in a mock pout. “If I’m going to die, I’ll do so with my belly full of this glorious fruit.” He popped a blackberry in his mouth and sauntered back the way he came.

  “I still think we should follow the coastline until we reach the western foot of the Bayacs,” Anton continued, unconcerned with the nuisance that was Tosya. “The Shenglin aren’t likely to go to the very edge of our empire, not while they still have other strongholds to conquer en route here.”

  “What about your brother and sister?” Genevie braced a hand on her hip, though somehow the gesture didn’t look argumentative. She had a gentle way of asserting herself. “Can Dasha track your aura? Sonya said her ability is strong.”

  “Dasha doesn’t know Anton well enough to single out his aura like that,” I cut in.

  Anton’s jaw muscle ticked and a look of hurt crossed his face. I immediately regretted my words.

  “But Dasha would be able to feel all your auras if she got close enough,” I said, unable to shut my mouth. “Valko will inevitably find out we’re going to Estengarde—Feliks is spreading the word—so Dasha could try to track us, regardless.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter which route we choose.” Anton rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We can’t base our decision on avoiding them. We’ll continue down the coastline.” Folding the map, he strode away and called for his soldiers to saddle up again.

  That night, after we’d traveled till sundown, we pitched our camp between the cover of two tall boulders on the shore. The ocean waves lapped at the sand, and a few soldiers chattered around the crackle of a dying campfire. Others rustled in nearby tents as they prepared for bed. I left the tent I was sharing with Genevie, crept over to Anton’s tent, and peeked inside. He had already removed his boots and was sitting in the cramped quarters while unbuttoning his kaftan. The hot glow of the lantern limned his chest muscles with golden light.

  I knelt outside the entrance and held the tent flap back. “I’m sorry about Valko and Dasha . . . her especially. I’m here if you ever need to talk. I just wanted you to know that.”

  Anton shifted nearer and caught the ends of the soft cords dangling from the neckline of my nightgown. He pulled me close until our lips touched, a moth-wing flutter of a kiss. “I know. I’m not trying to hold my feelings back from you; I just don’t like to confront them, I guess.”

  “It’s all right to be angry,” I said, coming inside as he made room for me. “Anyone in your place would be at the betrayal of a brother.”

  “I’m not just angry with Valko. I’m angry with my father for driving this wedge between our family in the first place. If Valko and I had been raised together, everything might be different.” Anton sat down on his bedroll and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’m angry with my mother for living a double life and never telling me I had a sister. I’m even angry with Dasha, though that makes me feel more wretched than anything. She’s only a child. But still, she bears my mark.” He rubbed the lynx-shaped birthmark on his forearm. Years ago, a Romska fortune-teller foretold that whoever shared the mark would be soul-fitted to him and bring him great joy. “I thought it meant Dasha and I would share a deep and wonderful connection,” he said, “but she must hate me now—Valko would have taught her that. I know what will happen if they ever find me. Valko will try to kill me, and he’ll use Dasha to help him do it.” Anton’s eyes were pools of amber as he met my gaze. “He’ll do the same to you,” he added, a slight quiver in his voice.

  I scooted over beside him and interlaced our fingers. “I won’t let that happen.”

  He turned his head toward me, the stubble on his jaw a tender scratch against my brow. “We won’t let it happen,” he murmured. “You can’t carry the weight of all Riaznin on your shoulders.”

  “Then let me carry you,” I said. Anton represented our dream of Riaznin to me. If he died, it would fail.

  He smoothed a strand of hair off my face. “You already do, my love.”

  He leaned forward to kiss me, but just before his mouth met mine, the flap of the tent flew open. Genevie crouched outside, her skin chalk-white, her pupils large. “He is close,” she rasped, barely able to speak.

  “Valko?” My heartbeats fired in rapid percussion.

  She shook her head, her hand at the base of her throat. “The bounty hunter. And he is not alone.”

  Anton and I scrambled to our feet. At the same time, a girl’s ragged cry shuddered through the night.

  Anton grabbed his musket from the corner of the tent. His fingers flew as he loaded it. “Stay here,” he told me and Genevie and scrambled outside.

  My muscles ached to run after him. He might get himself killed. “Who just screamed?” I asked Genevie. “One of your Auraseer friends?”

  She shook her head, her body quaking. “I do not recognize her aura, but it resonates like an Auraseer. Elle a peur. She is terrified.”

  The girl shrieked again. She sounded younger this time, her voice higher-pitched. “Sonya!” she cried. “Help me!”

  Adrenaline scorched my bloodstream. Dasha? Was Valko here, too?

  A knife lay in the corner of Anton’s tent, where his musket had been. Without second thought, I snatched it and raced out into the night.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE ROCKS ON THE SHORE STABBED MY BARE FEET AS I WOVE through the tents. I scarcely felt the pain. Some of soldiers, half-dressed from sleeping, ran past me
, muskets in hand. I followed them toward the screaming.

  Past the two boulders we were camped between, moonlight poured onto a wide beach with glossy rocks. I sprinted after the soldiers, who had turned left toward a bend in the shoreline. A cluster of pines towered there.

  One by one, they halted as they arrived at the trees. Some drew aim with their guns, but no one fired.

  My lungs burned as I hurried to catch up with them. Once I was close enough, I saw what they did. Chin-length hair. Protruding ears. Doe eyes. I blinked to be sure she was the right little girl.

  Not Dasha. Kira.

  I stopped running, frozen like the others. Ten feet away, the Esten bounty hunter held a gleaming dagger at the young Auraseer’s throat.

  Tears streaked Kira’s cheeks. Her terrified gaze implored me. She must have thought I held power. She’d seen me use it to stop a street riot in Torchev. I tried to harness that ability now, but the black void inside me was as thick as ever. Despair flooded my limbs. What could I do to save her?

  “Let her go!” I demanded. “She’s only a child.” Only ten years old. Why was Kira out here, so far from Torchev?

  The scar on the bounty hunter’s chin stretched as he sneered. “Ce rat?” He clutched a fistful of Kira’s hair and pulled her head back. The edge of his blade pressed closer to her neck. Another rush of tears spilled from her eyes. “Donnez-moi Genevie pour elle.”

  Genevie, he’d said. My toes clenched on the rocks. He must be asking us to give her to him. But how could we trade one innocent life for another?

  The soldiers were looking at me. They couldn’t decide what to do, either. They didn’t know Kira, and they barely knew Genevie. But Kira had called my name.

  “There must be some kind of compromise we can make, something else we can give you,” I said, stalling, though I didn’t know to what end. Tosya and I had tried to bargain with this man at the convent gate and failed.

  “Release the little girl!” Genevie shouted. I turned to find her not far behind me. She walked closer, her eyes narrowed on the bounty hunter, though her shoulders shook. “Prenez-moi.” She pointed to her chest. She was giving herself up.