Of Ice and Shadows

by Audrey Coulthurst

  By the time we had finished dinner and Denna had drunk her nightly tea, she looked a little shaky.

  “You should rest,” I told her.

  She nodded, not even arguing. She curled up on her bedroll, massaging her forearms, and I wondered if the peaceroot helped at all with her pain. Sarika had said she could take it for a week or two, but what if it stopped working before then? Denna’s magic would be back in all its unpredictability. The thought made an involuntary shiver run through me. The creaking of the dry woods echoed my worries. It wouldn’t take much to set them ablaze.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Alek told me.

  I scowled. “I’ve been taking first watch on this journey.”

  “And now I will, because we’re in my kingdom, and the first watch is the most dangerous. You don’t even carry a sword.”

  His comment stung. I had wanted to learn swordsmanship when I was younger, but Mynarian princesses weren’t taught such things. I kept my mouth shut with all the force of will I possessed. Just because he planned to take the first turn guarding the camp didn’t mean I couldn’t also watch over Denna. Her eyes were already closed, her dark lashes casting shadows on her face that danced in the firelight.

  “I’m at least going to stay up awhile to make sure she’s all right,” I said.

  “Suit yourself,” Alek said, and stalked off to walk the perimeter of our campsite.

  I curled up with my back to Denna’s, grateful for the small amount of insulation our closeness provided from the deepening chill. Still, by the time Alek came to hand the watch over to me, I felt frozen to the bone. I ended up pacing around the campsite, hoping that getting my blood moving would keep me warm and awake. The cold didn’t relent, but I needn’t have worried about wakefulness—not when it turned out Alek snores were like the sawing of a thousand logs.

  By morning I was thoroughly exhausted. After a quick breakfast of bread and cheese packed from the keep, the three of us took to the road again. I let myself ease into Flicker’s ground-covering walk, grateful for the warmth radiating from his sides into my legs. The farther southeast we traveled, the drier the terrain became. Our horses’ hooves kicked up dust with every step, and the only visible snowpack was on the tallest mountains.

  “Is it usually this dry here?” I asked.

  “No,” Alek said, a fountain of information as always.

  “It doesn’t seem like it should be,” Denna mused. “Don’t you get a lot of rain in Mynaria this time of year? Most autumn storms follow a southeastern track, and there is no geophysical barrier that would prevent them from traveling this way.”

  “It’s just a drought,” Alek said. “Happens every few years around these parts. Now, watch your horse’s feet, because this trail is about to get rough.”

  He took the lead, and we guided our horses down a steep descent into a narrow valley, picking our way around boulders and a few fallen trees in the road. We’d barely reached the valley floor when Alek drew his mount to a sudden halt. I barely had time to sit back in the saddle and give a squeeze of the reins to stop Flicker from bumping into him.

  “Sard me sideways,” Alek said.

  I shot him a surprised look. Surly as he was, he had a certain dignity, and the profanity startled me.

  I nudged Flicker forward just far enough to see around Alek. A stream ahead of us raged through a riverbed filled with rocks of all shapes and sizes, and the bridge across it was no more than a few pieces of ragged, burned wood on either side. At first I thought that was what Alek had reacted to—until I saw the bodies of three Duvey Keep soldiers tangled in the middle of the road, their glassy eyes open to the sky.

  SIX

  Dennaleia

  MY STOMACH TURNED AT THE SIGHT OF THE CORPSES. Alek recovered first, dismounting and walking his horse to where the bodies lay. Flicker stood frozen in place by Mare’s steady hands.

  “Our scouts,” Alek said tersely.

  “The Sonnenbornes who attacked Duvey must have done this,” Mare said, finally urging Flicker to take a few steps forward.

  “They were smart about it, though,” Alek noted, pointing to a wound in one man’s abdomen. “Sonnenborne javelins don’t leave ragged edges.”

  “And the other two?” I asked, trying not to let my voice shake.

  “Blows to the head, it looks like. Some kind of polearm, maybe even a guisarme.”

  “Do the Sonnenbornes use those kinds of weapons?” Mare asked.

  “Certainly,” Alek said. “But the Tamers use more primitive polearms. At a glance, this looks like their handiwork.”

  “But you don’t think it is?” I asked.

  He nudged one soldier’s shoulder with his boot and gestured to the rust-colored powder dusting the corpse’s face and shoulders. “That’s peaceroot powder. Tamers would never touch the stuff.”

  “I thought peaceroot had to be ingested as a tea.” I had no idea peaceroot could be used as a weapon. The idea of it filled me with dread.

  Alek shook his head. “There are skilled herbalists who mix it with nightshade and powder it. The stuff’s expensive, but powerful enough to knock almost any magic user unconscious and suppress their Affinity.”

  “You said the Tamers wouldn’t touch the stuff—but the Sonnenbornes would?” Mare asked.

  “Sonnenbornes have no magic. Nothing for them to fear.” Alek muttered what sounded like another curse. “Peaceroot is also a non-native plant. Tamers only use resources local to them.”

  “So the Tamers don’t trade with outsiders?” I asked. It would have been the only way they’d be able to obtain peaceroot.

  “Not usually.” Alek looked across the burned bridge to the road on the other side.

  “This just makes it that much more important to get to the queen,” I said softly. Coupled with the information in the letter Mare had received from her brother, it was clear the Sonnenbornes were making aggressive strides into both Mynaria and Zumorda. We needed to at least reach an agreement to work together to stop them.

  “You’re right,” Mare said. “Can we do anything for these soldiers? Give them a proper burial before we move on?”

  Alek shook his head. “I saw the plans for the wingscouts before I left. They’ll be here in no more than a day or two.”

  “Better to leave them some evidence to work with,” I said, understanding Alek’s line of thought.

  He gave me a sharp look, and I cast my eyes to the ground, hoping I hadn’t given away that I was more than Mare’s maidservant. I tried to quell the ember of frustration smoldering in my chest. There was little I hated more in the world than playing the fool, and now that Mare and I were no longer alone, I knew I’d have to do it more and more often. My ability to survive and stay with Mare depended on keeping my true identity secret.

  “How are we going to cross the river?” I asked Alek, hoping that deferring to his ideas would distract him from wondering how I might know anything about scouting patterns or crime scene investigation.

  Alek stared pensively at the water but didn’t respond. The rushing river formed an impassable barrier. Both sides were lined with wide swaths of muddy ground that indicated the water level was lower than usual, but that just meant it ran more fiercely over the rocks.

  “We’re going to have to find an alternate route,” Mare said, already turning Flicker south. “This can’t be the only place to cross. Or maybe there’s a shallow spot? It’s not that wide.”

  Alek held up a meaty hand to stop her. Mare tensed in my arms. I glanced worriedly between them. I couldn’t expect Mare to be anyone other than who she was—the bold, brazen girl I’d fallen in love with—but I wished she could rein herself in a little to get along with Alek. He was intimidating, and though I didn’t think it likely, he could kill us both and leave us in the woods if he felt like it. Besides, Mare needed the diplomacy practice before arriving in Kartasha or Corovja, both places where her ability to get along with people she disagreed with would matter that much more.

&nbs
p; “Can you ride a bit closer to the water?” I asked Mare.

  She complied, guiding Flicker toward the mud near the bank. Hoofprints heading the direction of the bridge marked the passing of many horses before us.

  “The Sonnenbornes definitely came this way,” I said, pointing to the hoofprints in the mud. “They must have burned the bridge so that no one would be able to follow.”

  Alek muttered something under his breath that was probably another curse. “Good eye, Lia,” he said to me.

  I shrugged diffidently, hoping he didn’t make too much of it. Observation and deduction were key parts of any scholar’s work, and it felt good to use those skills, even if I should have kept quiet.

  “Isn’t it odd that they came southeast instead of heading directly south back to their own lands?” Mare asked.

  Alek shook his head. “No trade roads in that direction—just Tamer territory and hostile farmers. This is the fastest way south.”

  “I thought the Tamers lived in eastern Zumorda,” I said. Geography had been one of my best subjects in my studies, and my recall of cartographic details had always been excellent.

  “What makes you think that?” Alek asked, giving me a sharp look.

  Inwardly, I cringed at dropping such an obvious hint about my true identity, but I managed to put on a confused and innocent expression. “I saw a map one time. Maybe it was wrong?”

  “It must have been old. Another band of Tamers settled in the south more than fifty years ago,” Alek said, his tone gruff.

  “Are there any other bridges nearby?” I asked, hoping to keep him from overthinking anything I said by focusing on the present problem.

  “No, and the water is deeper and swifter than it looks, even low,” Alek said.

  It already looked pretty swift to me, but I didn’t say anything. I got the sense his comment was more for Mare’s benefit.

  We had rivers like this back in Havemont, where I’d grown up. I used to walk the mountain trails with my father and sister, learning how to test my footing, find good hiking sticks, and avoid crossing anything that looked like this river, because it was too easy to get swept away. The sadness I’d carried with me since leaving Havemont swelled, choking me with loneliness. As much as I loved Mare and knew I’d made the right choice being with her, I missed my family. Everyone but my mother thought I was dead, and I didn’t know if she’d shared the truth with my father or sister. Part of me hoped she had told them. I couldn’t bear the thought of my family grieving unnecessarily.

  “What do you think we should do?” Mare asked me, urging Flicker a few strides south along the river’s edge. A few horse lengths away from the destroyed bridge, the crescent of another partial hoofprint was visible. The rider must have kept close to the edge of the water—any other tracks had already been washed away.

  “It looks like someone else tried to ride south to find another place to cross after the bridge was destroyed.” I pointed at the hoofprint.

  “That seems to be our only choice, too,” Alek said, joining us. “There’s only one problem. See those trees?” He pointed at some evergreens to the south. “That’s where the Tamers’ territory begins. Whoever left that southbound print is going to find that out the hard way.”

  “Based on what Wymund told me, I’d rather avoid them,” Mare said.

  “We could camp near here and I could skip my next dose of peaceroot,” I said. “Perhaps fire magic could be used to temporarily stop the water, or maybe—”

  “No,” Alek and Mare said in vehement unison.

  I cringed. Of course that had to be the only thing they agreed on. I wanted so badly to help, not to be this useless, dangerous person trapped by my own incompetence. Also, as grateful as I was for the peaceroot keeping anything bad from happening on our journey, the emptiness left by my magic’s absence made me feel numb and off-kilter. The powers lingered just out of reach, like if I only tried hard enough, maybe I’d be able to reach them through the fog. And the peaceroot did nothing for the physical symptoms of overextending my gift—my arms still ached, and the numb spots persisted. I’d never felt less like myself.

  “We’ll have to ride south and take our chances,” Alek said, not looking pleased. “If we stay near the river’s edge away from the woods, there’s a chance they won’t feel threatened.”

  A tingle of nervousness ran through me. If anything did happen, my magic was useless. Alek had his sword, and Mare had her bow. I had no way to fight back.

  We rode alongside the river for a few sunlengths, the pace of our horses slowed by having to pick our way around the rocks littering the banks. Trees grew larger as we rode farther south, though just as many were dead as they’d been in the sparser forests along the main road. I worried as the sun followed its westward path, wondering if we would be able to cross the river in time to make camp safely away from the Tamers.

  “We should be getting close now,” Alek said, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him over the rush of the river.

  We’d barely gone ten more horse lengths when Flicker shied so suddenly, I would have lost my seat if I hadn’t been hanging on firmly to Mare. Two people had materialized seemingly out of nowhere and now stood blocking our path. Their clothes were made of well-fitted leather and furs, mottled to help them blend in with their surroundings. One stood half a head taller, but they otherwise had few defining characteristics to differentiate them from each other.

  “Turn back,” the taller man said in strangely accented Zumordan.

  “We don’t mean to trespass,” Alek said. “The north bridge has been destroyed, and we’d be grateful to use the one on your lands. We won’t linger.”

  “There is no passage for your kind here,” the other man said, putting a hand on the hunting knife belted at his waist. A dog at his feet growled, making Flicker snort uneasily.

  “You’ve done enough damage already,” the first Tamer said, gesturing at the dead tree closest to us. “You city folk with your clear-cutting and farming—you’re the reason this drought has fallen upon us.”

  I wondered why they thought that—if it was somehow embedded in their belief system, or if there was any truth to what they were saying. Could magic, perhaps magic that the city people used and the Tamers didn’t, somehow be behind the drought?

  “We must respect their wishes,” Alek said to me and Mare. “We’ll have to look for a place to ford.”

  Instead of seeming mollified by Alek’s directive that we abandon our plan to go farther, both Tamers drew their weapons. Flicker backed up as Mare tightened her hands on the reins.

  “Cross here and you’ll pollute our fishing grounds with your corpses,” the taller man said, stepping forward aggressively.

  Mare looked to Alek for direction, but his eyes were fixed on the Tamers’ weapons as he backed his horse away.

  “We’ll go far enough north so as not to bother you,” Alek said.

  “We don’t have time for that,” Mare said in Tradespeech, undoubtedly hoping that the Tamers wouldn’t understand. “We’ve already lost half a day riding due south!”

  Alek never took his eyes from the Tamers, but his expression soured even further with Mare’s words. Before he could respond to her, another pair of Tamers materialized from behind some nearby trees, and then two more behind us. We were surrounded. My mouth went dry, and I held even more tightly to Mare.

  “Sarding Hells,” Alek muttered.

  “Alek?” Mare’s voice quavered with uncertainty. If we were going to flee, we needed to do it now, before they closed in on us.

  “Follow me and don’t ask any stupid questions or waste any time,” Alek said, turning his horse suddenly toward the river.

  He lifted one hand from the reins and rapidly traced an intricate symbol that resembled that of the water god while murmuring something under his breath. The river water slowed and eddied, turning back on itself until it coalesced into a path that looked hard and smooth as glass.

  The Tamers all started yelling
, then tightened their circle around us. Alek dug his heels into his mount’s sides, and the slow beast took a startled leap forward onto the transparent surface of the bridge. The horse’s hooves kicked up a spray of water but didn’t sink into the bridge. Somehow, Alek had used magic to make the water solid. I gasped in amazement. I’d figured he had an Affinity of some kind, but his grumpy demeanor hadn’t made me want to ask any questions. I wished I could have sensed what he was doing, seen the magic, but the peaceroot kept me even more blind to it than I ordinarily would have been. He’d looked like a soldier saying a prayer, nothing more.

  “Hurry!” Alek shouted back to us, his voice strained.

  Mare urged Flicker toward the water bridge. He balked in the mud, prancing and snorting, rearing up when Mare nudged him with her heels. The Tamers’ dogs seemed to have multiplied behind us, and an entire pack of them converged to bark and snap at Flicker’s legs. He struck out at them and I clung to Mare, frightened of losing my seat.

  “Go!” Mare shouted at Flicker, the usual calm she kept around her horse shattering. Startled, Flicker splashed through the water at the edge of the river and scrambled onto the bridge, walking as unsteadily as a newborn colt. Dogs leaped into the water to swim after us, only turning back when we reached the deeper part of the river. I made the mistake of looking down, and my stomach flipped over at the sight of white water foaming under the glassy surface of the bridge, which was quickly narrowing.

  “Hold on tight!” Mare said to me, and I obeyed with all my strength as Flicker scrambled up the opposite bank and the last of the bridge disappeared back into the water. I cast a glance back to see the Tamers lined up on the shore, weapons still drawn should we be unwise enough to try to return. Alek swayed dangerously in the saddle and then slumped over his gelding’s neck. We rode up alongside his horse to spot him in case he lost his balance, but he waved us off.

  “What in the Sixth Hell was that?” Mare asked Alek.