Frozen Reign

by Kathryn Purdie

  Delphine’s sea-blue eyes dropped to her hands.

  I took a breath of cautious hope. Now she was listening. “What if you spent your whole life fighting to change the wrongs of the world—like Anton has, like I know he will until his dying day—but, in the end, none of it changed anything?” My voice quavered, sobered by that very real possibility. “Does that mean you shouldn’t have tried with every ounce of your strength?”

  She raised her chin. “I’m sorry, Sonya, but you are wrong about me. I don’t have any power to save your friend.” Her lower lip trembled. “I can’t save any of them.”

  My shoulders fell as despair closed around me. But then I wondered how much moral courage I had? Had I exhausted every ounce of my strength trying to fulfill my mission here? I may have failed the Auraseers of Estengarde, but I’d also come to help Anton win an alliance. I had to do my best. “Before Floquart died,” I said, clumsily changing the subject, “he told me you and Anton were once betrothed.”

  Delphine’s gaze snapped back up to me, her cheeks flushing red. “Yes, but none of that matters now. His feelings aren’t what they were. When we danced tonight, he told me he holds you in affection.” She swallowed and gave me a conciliatory smile.

  Warmth welled inside me. My love for Anton radiated through my chest, and I struggled to stay focused. I couldn’t dwell on what I had to let go. “Floquart said the king wouldn’t settle for anything less than a marriage-based alliance,” I continued, forcing myself to keep eye contact with her. “You must realize our nation won’t survive the war without Estengarde’s help, just as Estengarde needs Riaznin.”

  Delphine frowned. “I have no desire to come between you and Anton.”

  “That’s very noble of you, but you have to think of the greater good. And I know you two could be happy together.” As much as I hated to say the words, I believed them. Delphine and Anton had both been raised to hold sway in society, and they were well matched in intellect. She would easily gain the people’s respect in Riaznin. In all ways, she would be the perfect bride, the perfect wife. She had no history of being impulsive or reckless, only polished and reliable.

  Delphine tilted her head and studied my face. Could she see how much I loved Anton, too? “Marrying Anton relies on more than my willingness,” she said.

  “I know.” I tucked a loose hair behind my ear with a trembling hand. “That’s why I need you to tell him something for me, in case I don’t see him again. Tell him I said to do what’s best for Riaznin. Tell him I give him my blessing.”

  Delphine considered me for a long moment. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, holding my posture resolute, even though my legs wobbled.

  She reached behind her and placed her hand on the latch of my door, then met my eyes again. “I will also tell my uncle that you are innocent.”

  I offered her a small smile, but no hope kindled inside me. Despite my earlier professions that Delphine had the ability to persuade the king, I despaired.

  I was only a lowly Auraseer in Estengarde. Though, in truth, I was even less than that.

  I was only Sonya Petrova. Not a grande voyant. Not a sovereign Auraseer.

  I was only a powerless and frightened girl.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THREE GUARDS ENTERED MY ROOM LATE IN THE MORNING THE next day. I stood on shaky legs from where I’d been sitting on the edge of my bed. I had changed out of my ball gown and into my simple sarafan, anticipating this moment. The king must have decided I was complicit in Floquart’s murder.

  While two of the guards came and took hold of each of my arms, the third guard started rifling through my belongings: another sarafan, a shift to wear beneath it, a coat, and a hair comb. He must have been searching for the king’s key. Delphine had it, of course, though she may as well have left it with me. I’d been found guilty regardless.

  The guard looked under my bed and pulled out my traveling bag and water flask. “C’est ici,” he said to the others, then stuffed my belongings inside.

  I wrinkled my brows. “What are you doing?”

  None of the guards answered. Either they didn’t speak Riaznian or they refused to talk to me.

  They escorted me out of my room and brought my bag with them. They didn’t take me to the lower levels of the castle proper, where the dungeons must be, but outside the castle keep to the royal stables. All nine soldiers from our Riaznian regiment were there, already mounted on their horses. “What’s going on?” I asked, shivering in the brisk autumn air. My own mare, Raina, was also saddled and waiting for me.

  Konstantin, the largest Riaznian soldier, nudged his horse forward and replied, “We were told we needed to take you away at once.” I couldn’t tell whether his voice held sympathy or embarrassment when he added, “King Léopold said you are no longer welcome in Estengarde.”

  I stared at him, trying to process what he’d told me. Instead of imprisonment and possible execution, my punishment was to be driven out? “What about Genevie?”

  “We were told she must answer to the Esten court for her crimes.”

  My heart sank. How could I leave without her? But what choice did I have? In addition to the three Esten guards who’d led me out here, at least a dozen others now surrounded us.

  Delphine approached tentatively, her arms laden with several glossy pelts. “I brought you furs for your journey. The Bayacs can be treacherous if the frosts come early.”

  I glanced from her to the stables, where Anton’s stallion, Oriel, poked his head out from a stall. He wasn’t wearing a bridle. My hands went limp at my sides.

  Anton chose the alliance.

  I tried to summon happiness, or at the very least satisfaction. This was the decision I’d wanted him to make—duty above desire. Free Riaznin had hope now. So why did I feel so lost inside?

  “Is Anton coming to say good-bye?” I asked Delphine, striving to keep my voice strong as my throat constricted. He must have been planning to travel back to Riaznin after he married her and sealed the pact between nations. Knowing Anton, that would be as swiftly as possible. A confrontation with his brother was inevitable.

  She lifted a shoulder, her lovely sea-blue eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed genuine. “I don’t know,” she replied, adjusting her violet shawl. I passed your message to him last night. I haven’t seen him since. I was told he spent most of this morning with my uncle.”

  “Have you spoken to the king since then?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did he say about Anton? Does he know I’m being sent away?”

  Delphine nodded, averting her gaze. She draped the furs on a nearby barrel. “Apparently, Anton negotiated a parting gift for you.” She brushed a loose curl off her face. Her hair was still done up in the same coif from last night, though it now looked like a wilted flower. “You know my uncle; he doesn’t like to be bothered by anything controversial.” She gave a humorless laugh. “I think he was secretly relieved that the matter was taken out of his hands, especially since Floquart is no longer around to manage it.”

  I wasn’t following. “What did Anton negotiate?”

  “The release of the imprisoned Auraseers, those who were recently taken into Floquart’s custody. The king has agreed to banish them to Riaznin. Your regiment has been tasked to take them with you.” Delphine waited for my response, fidgeting with the fringe of her shawl. I couldn’t find any words. My skin tingled with a flush of adrenaline. “So, you see,” she said, “you didn’t need me to persuade my uncle, after all.”

  I couldn’t draw breath. I stared at her in disbelief. Anton had ensured the Auraseers’ release—for me? I hadn’t thought it was possible for me to love him even more, but I did. I didn’t have room inside myself to contain the ache of it. How could I leave him here to marry someone else? “But did you talk to the king about Genevie?”

  Delphine’s posture drooped. “I tried, Sonya. I’m sure Anton did, too.”

  Heaviness pulled at my limbs. Genevie’s heart was pure.
She didn’t deserve to be sentenced by a prejudiced Esten court, no matter what she had done. She would die now. I knew it. I’d feared for her life when she’d asked to travel with me to Estengarde. Why had I said yes? “Will you tell Anton thank you for me?” I bit my lip so Delphine wouldn’t see it tremble. I understood now why he hadn’t come to say good-bye. That would only make our farewell harder. We had to accept what was necessary for the greater good of Free Riaznin.

  She nodded. “I wish I could do more for your friend.”

  I met her gaze, wondering if her words were sincere or empty. “I wish you could, too.” I wished I could.

  The Esten soldiers escorted us away from King Léopold’s castle, permitting none in our small regiment to remain behind with Anton. I tried not to worry. Surely the king had soldiers to spare for when the time came that Anton would travel back to Riaznin with his new bride. My eyes blurred hot, and my throat constricted. Anguish racked every bone in my body at being separated from him and Genevie, but as our party detoured to Floquart’s estate in Alaise, some of my pain lifted. The fifteen Esten Auraseers stood near the gate, waiting for us. Their faces were haggard and their clothes filthy from their time in the dungeons, but their eyes lit with hope.

  A deep feeling of kinship warmed my chest. These were my sisters, though I’d never met them. Auraseers like me. Rare and precious and terribly misunderstood. They deserved kindness and compassion. I resolved to give it to them. I would return to Riaznin as its sovereign Auraseer, even without my power. I would strive to make my nation a safe home.

  The Esten Auraseers couldn’t stop staring at me. They whispered among each other in their language and, when the gate opened, they nudged forward one of their own, a middle-aged woman with strawberry hair. She drew a long breath as she approached, and I dismounted so I could greet her properly.

  “I am Lara,” she said, dipping into a low curtsy.

  I returned her shy smile and curtsied back so she would understand there was no rank divide between us. “I am Sonya.”

  Her grin widened. She turned back to the others and nodded. “La grande voyant!”

  At their ripple of excited murmurs, my cheeks flushed with heat. I rubbed the back of my neck, waiting for their expressions to shift to confusion and disappointment once they’d had another moment to search for my aura.

  “I am the most fluent in Riaznian,” Lara continued. “So if you ever wish to say anything to the others, you can tell me and I will relay your message.”

  I snuck another glance at the girls and women. No one was frowning yet. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you—for all you have done for us.”

  The heat in my face spread to my ears. Lara’s gratitude was misplaced. It was Anton who had negotiated the Esten Auraseers’ release, and Genevie who had encouraged them to leave their masters in the first place. “I’ve done nothing.”

  “That isn’t true.” Lara’s green eyes softened. “What you did in your nation has inspired us. And your hope bolsters ours with courage.”

  “My hope?” I hadn’t mentioned any hope.

  “It is stronger than your sorrow.” She tentatively placed a hand on my shoulder. “Our hearts hurt for Genevie, too.”

  My scalp prickled. Lara was speaking about my emotions—emotions I hadn’t told her I was feeling.

  Dizziness rocked me, and I stumbled closer to Raina, bracing myself against her side. There was a very real possibility I might faint. “Do you mean to say . . . are all of you . . . ?” I drew a shaky breath and scanned the other Esten Auraseers. I couldn’t sense them for myself. “You all feel my aura? I’m emitting it?”

  Lara gave a gentle and bemused laugh. “Of course. Your pulse radiates strongly.”

  My gaze tunneled on her. “And it’s really coming from me?” I stole a glance over my shoulder, but the regiment soldiers were several yards away.

  Lara tilted her head, like she wondered if I was unwell. “Yes.”

  White spots flashed in my vision. My heart froze, then gave a hard pound.

  My power . . . it was returning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I SPENT THAT EVENING AND THE NEXT DAY STRAINING TO FEEL aura. If I was emitting it, why couldn’t I sense it in others? My awareness was still thick with an impenetrable black void. If any of my actual abilities were present, I would have ridden back to Alaise to try to free Genevie. But dark clouds loomed over the Bayacs. An early frost was coming, a month shy of winter. If our regiment and the Esten Auraseers didn’t hurry, the snow would come to the mountaintops and impede our journey. With another heart-heavy sigh for Genevie, I left the city with the others and embarked for La Forêt Royale on the first stretch of our journey.

  I walked most of the way, giving the girls and women turns riding Raina. They hadn’t been provided horses of their own. We pressed ourselves to exhaustion in the days that followed, trying to beat the elements. Despite our best efforts, as we reached the peaks of the Bayacs, winter came. A tease of snowflakes at first, kisses melting against our noses and fingers. But then the wind howled and the sky unleashed a torrent. Icy downpour lashed at our skin and split our lips and made us shiver to the bone.

  At every fork in the mountain pass, I searched for the first marker of the Esten Romska settlement—the rope of painted beads strung around a tree branch that Tosya had shown me. I’d promised to meet up with him so he and Kira could travel back to Riaznin with our regiment. But every tree was coated in ice and snow, masking any signs. Foreboding drummed inside me like a second, racing heartbeat. Now that we were outside the protections of Alaise, fear of Valko seized hold of me again. I wondered, at times, if my almost palpable dread could be my awareness returning, but the other Auraseers didn’t mention any worries besides the freezing temperatures.

  As our party trudged forward, we could find no decent shelter; only craggy trees grew at these heights. With the wind raging wildly, we couldn’t stake our tents, so we tied our horses under an overhanging rock and huddled wherever we could along level spots of ground. The teeth of the blizzard bit sharp through our coats and blankets.

  I felt in my saddlebag for the paltry remains of my food: half a hard biscuit and a three slices of salted venison. With trembling fingers, I passed two slices to the Auraseers nearby me and split what was left of my biscuit with Lara. The soldiers of our regiment had as little as I did. We’d all been sharing with the Auraseers, who hadn’t been given any provisions when they’d been banished, other than a few musty blankets.

  We were going to starve if we didn’t freeze first.

  The storm didn’t let up by morning. Knowing we couldn’t last much longer, exposed on the crest of this mountain like this, we stumbled through the deep snow, walking our horses down the other side of the mountain for better shelter.

  Every hour only brought us another quarter mile forward. We kept our heads ducked against the vicious winds, and I wrapped a scarf around my head and a blanket over my coat. My feet were blocks of ice. When I feared my toes might fall off from numbness, Konstantin, who had taken charge in Anton’s absence, finally found a rocky ravine, wide enough for two horses to stand abreast, but long enough for all of us. The ravine walls weren’t tall, only ten feet or so, but if we ducked low, they blocked the worst of the wind.

  I tended to Raina, pulling her down to lie beside me and rubbing warmth into her coat. She’d been eating a little snow in lieu of water. I tried to get her to swallow more, but she refused. I dug under the icy ground and clawed up roots and a few shrubs, which she chomped up greedily. Knowing that wasn’t enough, I gave her the last slice of my salted venison. She licked and chewed it for a while, then spit it out as I’d suspected she would. Hopefully it had still offered her some nutrients.

  “You’ll be all right, girl,” I murmured, pressing my head to her brow. I wished I could reach into her aura and make her feel comfortable. Nothing I’d done so far seemed sufficient to help. With a soft nicker, Raina finally rose and returned to the other
horses. They stood close together at the end of the ravine and tried to gather heat, their necks wrapped over one another. My shoulders sagged, and I burrowed my arms into my cloak.

  “Do not feel guilty,” Lara said past chapped lips and chattering teeth. She had been watching me quietly all this while. “Your horse has great affection for you, but she is trying to survive. She will be safer with the others.”

  But the horses’ warm huddle wasn’t enough to help all of them. That night, one of them died. An hour later, Lara warned the soldiers that a second horse, a lovely sorrel mare, was rapidly weakening. We tried to get her to eat more snow. We threw blankets over her and made her walk our narrow confines to warm her blood. But she staggered about and finally buckled to the ground. Heartbroken, I laid her head in my lap and whispered comforting words while death stole her away.

  I drew an icy breath that exhaled in a cloud of frost. We’re going to die out here.

  The soldiers dragged both carcasses out of the ravine. They debated whether or not they should cut them up for meat. I couldn’t listen. I gazed up, trying to see the stars, wondering if they still shone or if they’d died out, too. Only darkness and bitter snowfall reigned.

  The next morning—when the soldiers were about to butcher the dead horses and I sat with my knees to my chest, my head buried in my hands, my whole body in cramps from cringing—Konstantin raced into the ravine, a wide smile on his face. “We’re saved!” he cried, roughly wiping away his tears. “They’ve come!” He shouted above the howling wind. “They have shelter, food.” His voice hitched on a sob. My eyes glistened to see such a large man—one of the sternest and toughest in our regiment—break down with relief. But I didn’t understand. Who had saved us?

  He moved aside as a small group of people entered the mouth of the ravine. They had deep olive skin and were bundled tightly in furs. At the back of the group, a young girl stepped forward. A fur hood covered her hair, and a scarf was drawn across her mouth. When she pulled it away, I gasped. “Kira.”