Wings of Frost

by J. D. Monroe

  “I thought I’d stay a while longer. I didn’t have much opportunity to commune with Vystus while I was in their custody.” She was paranoid, certain that Catrina had heard her thoughts somehow.

  “Ah, then I’m sorry to interrupt,” Catrina said. “That’s the Marlena I know. So studious and devout.”

  Marlena gritted her teeth. The praise only made her feel more guilty. Once upon a time, she could ask questions, knowing Catrina would know the right words to soothe her troubled thoughts. But it was very clear that Lang didn’t trust her, and she didn’t dare give them more fuel.

  “When you’re done, we have a mission,” Catrina said. “Mr. Lang’s orders.”

  An hour’s drive brought them to Henderson, a small town whose claim to fame was a peach jam stand just past the gas station. The Chosen had purchased a vacant farmhouse a few miles outside of town. It was miles away from the nearest neighbor, as Catrina pointed out to her.

  Surrounded by overgrown grass, the faded exterior of the farmhouse was a stark contrast to the fleet of gleaming vehicles parked outside. A team of construction workers hastily built a privacy fence of pristine pine around the lot.

  “We lost too many subjects when the Kadirai stormed Lab B,” Catrina said as they drove down the rocky driveway. “And our brothers and sisters in Ascavar need our help. The war has begun, and their supply will not last long without stepping up our collections.”

  Their supply. Catrina meant blood, stolen from unwilling captives. “What do I need to do?” she asked.

  “We’re working with a limited crew right now,” Catrina said. “It’s all hands on deck.” Their vehicle parked next to a white moving truck. The older woman got out and pinned Marlena with a stern gaze. “We need you and Malon to help subdue them. It’ll be a good test of your powers after your ordeal.”

  “Subdue…” Catrina’s gaze flicked to the white truck. Subjects. A pair of workers were hooking a wide metal ramp onto the back bumper. As the rear door rolled up with a metallic clang, the smell of blood and strong Kadirai magic wafted out of the truck. Her mouth went dry.

  Behind them, a pair of wide doors was open to the back of the farmhouse, with a bustle of activity inside. People hauled boxes of supplies, some labeled with the familiar blocks of print she’d seen in the Forest House. Tubing. Blood collection.

  “Oh, you’re here. Thank goodness,” one of the workers said. A silver wing pin glinted on the lapel of his dusty blue coveralls. He bowed to Catrina. “Good morning, ma’am. They’re ready for you downstairs.”

  “Come on,” Catrina said.

  With dread pooling like acid in her stomach, Marlena followed her mentor into the musty-smelling house. The flurry of activity kicked up decades of dust, filling the air with a hazy shimmer. Folding tables had been set up at haphazard angles, piled high with cardboard boxes. From below, she heard the angry drone of power tools.

  “Why are they setting up here?” Marlena asked.

  “After Lab B was breached, we cleared out the smaller facilities before the Kadirai could take them,” Catrina replied. “Those that were still productive are being brought here, along with some new subjects.”

  They’re people, not subjects, she heard Velati say once more.

  The kitchen was a seventies smorgasbord of faded citrus-colored appliances and gaudy orange wallpaper. A wooden door stood ajar next to the green refrigerator, revealing a set of stairs that led to the basement. Marlena followed Catrina down the creaking wooden steps.

  Blinding worklights cast the basement in harsh bluish light. Men in coveralls unpacked metal dividers, assembling them into makeshift walls that sectioned the large space into smaller cubicles. They had already created three such rooms, with flimsy curtains drawn across metal rods to create doors. It looked like an emergency room built by serial killers.

  Several large wooden crates wrapped with padlocked chains sat in the open space. One box rocked violently, tipping onto its edge. A nearby worker kicked it and cursed, prompting the box to shake again.

  “Are there…” Marlena asked, staring at the boxes. Please, no.

  “Over here!” A harried-looking woman in red scrubs scurried toward Catrina. Like the man at the door, she gave Catrina a quick bow. “Sister, please calm her.”

  Marlena’s stomach lurched as she watched two muscular men were straining to subdue a woman in drab gray clothes. “Fuck!” one of them bellowed. Thunder rolled through the open room, and one of the men lurched backward. He slammed into a divider. The whole construction rattled from the impact. The woman lunged away, silver eyes wild as she looked for an escape route. Sparks crackled along her fingers.

  “Do something!” Catrina yelled, smacking Marlena on the back.

  Running on instinct, Marlena locked onto the woman’s silver gaze, reaching for her will. “Come here,” she said, pouring her strength into her voice. Her face twisted in confusion, but she grasped Marlena’s hands.

  What am I doing?

  She was pretty, though her face was ashen, with a dark bruise over one eye. “Help me,” she pleaded. There was a hint of resistance in her grasp, the slightest pull that said she was trying to fight the compulsion. “Please let me go.”

  Her voice cut deep. What had this woman done? “What did you do?” Marlena said quietly. “Why are you here?”

  “Marlena!” Catrina scolded.

  “Why are you here?” she repeated, this time in Kadirai. “What is your name?”

  “Tellanari Vesar,” she replied. “Why am I in trouble? I swear I followed all the rules.”

  A firm hand closed on the back of her neck. Catrina’s voice was cold and accusing. “You are not giving good answers to Mr. Lang’s questions about your loyalty.”

  A chill prickled down her spine. “Rest. Stop fighting,” Marlena said, pushing hard against the woman’s weakened mind. Tellanari’s grasp loosened, her silver eyes rolling back. The men who’d been struggling with her grabbed her limp body and dragged her into the small cubicle, where a metal gurney was waiting. In seconds, they had her tied down with wide nylon straps. The man she’d thrown off brandished a leather strap lined with nasty metal teeth. Tellanari cried out as he wrapped the wicked implement over her belly and cinched it tight around the table. “You don’t have to hurt her,” Marlena said.

  The man sneered at her. “What the fuck do you think this is?”

  “Silence in her presence,” Catrina snapped. “Do your job or I’ll have you down here next.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “Yes ma’am. I meant no disrespect. My apologies, sister.”

  Tellanari was fully awake now, twisting in vain against her bindings. Her frantic movements jolted the gurney in a rhythmic cadence. Her face twisted in anguish. “Let me go,” she pleaded. Her hitching cries grew in strength. “Someone help me!”

  Marlena turned away from the gut-wrenching sight and fixed her gaze on Catrina. “What did this woman do? Why is she here?”

  “She was chosen by Vystus to be used for his glory,” Catrina said. The words that would have once been reassuring sounded hollow. How had she never realized it?

  “I want to know why,” Marlena said. “Is she evil?” Before she realized what she was doing, she poured strength into her voice and reached for Catrina’s mind. Her grasping tendrils slid off Catrina like water on glass. “Tell me why she deserves this.”

  The older woman grabbed her face and shoved her into the cinderblock wall. Catrina’s icy grasp burned into her flushed cheeks. A silver chain hung around the woman’s slender neck. The stupid amulets. Catrina didn’t trust her either. “You walk a dangerous path, child.”

  “I just wanted to know.” Her voice trembled.

  “And I told you. What has happened to you that the will of your god is insufficient reason for you?” The words hit her like a slap to the face. Catrina leaned in close and spoke directly in her ear. Her fingers dug into the hollows of Marlena’s cheeks, hard enough to hurt. “I spoke for you. I told them that you would
not falter. Have you made a liar of me?”

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “Then show me.” Catrina released her and turned to regard the hysterical woman on the gurney. Bound as she was, she could only twist an inch or so in either direction. Her bare feet curled and flexed in vain.

  Marlena was frozen. This was wrong. It didn’t mean the Kadirai were right, but this was unquestionably wrong. And if this was what Vystus wanted, then Vystus was wrong too. Heat crackled down the marks on her spine. She could burn this place to the ground.

  “I’m waiting,” Catrina snapped, like she heard the storm of doubt raging through Marlena’s mind. The harsh tone was like a switch, triggering an instinctive need to please.

  Marlena drew a deep breath and strode toward Tellanari. Please forgive me, she prayed as she put one hand on the woman’s brow. Her silver eyes pleaded, her head shaking slightly. “Please don’t let them hurt me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marlena murmured. “Go to sleep.” The prickling sensation of her own power lashed back at her as Tellanari tried to resist, but the woman fell limp a few seconds later. Her chest rose and fell slowly. One of the workers approached and placed an IV needle in her arm, continuing the work now that she was settled. Marlena backed away, averting her eyes from the grisly sight.

  “You have more to do,” Catrina said. “Come on.”

  It was dark by the time the last of the subjects were secured. Marlena had watched in horror as the crates were pried open to release bound Kadirai, all of them groggy and drugged. They’d been packaged up and thrown in the back of the truck like cargo. With each successive captive, she’d felt worse. Most of them begged. Several promised to kill her for this. It was all she could do not to tear Catrina’s head off her shoulders. She couldn’t let this abide, but even with her strength, she couldn’t get through all of them. Not yet.

  Finally, it was quiet. Someone had gone for Mexican takeout. The spread of foil takeout containers strewn on the counters with boxes of tubing and a conspicuous case with two large rifles in it was too much. Even if she’d been hungry, the afternoon’s activities left her nauseated. How could they all eat tacos and chat like they’d just done an honest day’s work?

  While Catrina chatted with one of the workers, Marlena walked out of the building and into the overgrown field. A warm breeze stirred the tall grass, filling the night with an unsettling whisper.

  All she’d wanted was to get back to her people. And now that she’d gotten that, she wanted to be anywhere but here. Everything had changed. Or maybe everything was exactly as it had always been, and she’d finally opened her damned eyes.

  Run away, some distant part of her ordered. Find him.

  Before she realized it, she was planning another escape. Saradir’s plan was a good start. She’d walk into the house, find someone who wasn’t wearing an amulet, and calmly request that he give her the keys to one of the cars. She could be on the interstate and back to North Carolina by morning. Back to Velati.

  She was working up the nerve to do it when footsteps scuffed behind her. The sharp bite of coffee drifted on the warm breeze. Marlena turned to see Catrina walking down the rickety porch steps. “What are you doing?” she asked, peering over her paper cup.

  “I needed some air,” she said. “The house was too stuffy.”

  “Why were you so difficult today?” she asked. “You’ve never been like this.”

  Marlena stared down at the ground. “I don’t understand why we’re doing this. We believe in the right of all creation to live in peace and harmony,” she recited. “We believe that no creature should enslave another. We believe—”

  “Things are complicated,” Catrina said, waving her hand dismissively. Marlena gaped at her. “Sacrifice is a part of any great cause.”

  “Sacrificing innocent lives?”

  “Not innocent. These people have displeased Vystus. If they have not already done some great evil, then it lies in their future,” Catrina said.

  “But—”

  “Marlena,” Catrina said. She dumped the remains of her coffee and dropped the cup on the ground, then approached, gripping Marlena’s arms tightly. “You must cleanse your mind of these doubts. Our great spirit has chosen you.” She stroked one red mark on Marlena’s upper arm. The contact sent a tingle down her spine. Even years later, the marks were still sensitive to touch. “You are so close. Everyone knows you have this potential in you. I do. Rainer does.” She paused, fixing her gaze on Marlena’s. “Master Sidran does.”

  She drew a sharp breath. “He does?”

  She nodded. “He wants nothing more than for you to reach your fullest potential,” she said. “But you must be steadfast. If you don’t overcome this doubt, it will overcome you. And to see you falter…the others will lose faith. Don’t you remember what things were like before? How much you wanted the family that you have now?”

  At one time, those words would have been enough to soothe her. No more. She heard the manipulation, the way Catrina lied about the captives in the basement, the way she latched on to Marlena’s fears. For better or worse, Velati had yanked back the curtain to reveal the ugliness under the beautiful façade. A lump swelled in her throat as she realized how stupid she had been. Her sorrow turned swiftly to anger as Catrina brushed her fingers over her brow, like she was a sick child. I’m going to end you, she thought. I’m going to burn all of it down. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, bowing her head. “I’m sorry I was disobedient. If you say this is necessary, then I trust you.”

  Catrina grasped the sides of her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “That’s my girl. I know these things are difficult. You must believe in your heart that we serve good.” She tipped up Marlena’s chin. “Mr. Lang wants to go forward with the plan to capture the Arik’tazhan. If you’re up for it, we can begin within twenty-four hours.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Good girl,” Catrina said. “Think how proud Sidran will be when you deliver such a gift. Do you have a way to contact him?”

  “Not directly, but perhaps via the Skywatch.”

  “Good. We’ll plan to pick him up in Dallas. When we get home to Haven, you can make the call. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

  The promise of calling Velati was a liferope dangling in front of her. If anyone could help her right this wrong, it was him. “I’ll do it,” she said. Her expression tightened, eyes narrowing in anger. She hoped Catrina saw her desire for vengeance against Velati, though the anger in her heart was targeted at the Chosen. “He hurt me. He is everything that is wrong with the Kadirai in one arrogant package. I’ll bring him in, and I’ll get everything you want out of him.”

  Catrina smiled, a sharp glint in her eye. “Good girl. This will be a jewel in our crown, my girl. I knew you could do this.”

  You have no idea what I can do. But I’m going to show you.

  Two days of rest and several miserable visits with the Marashti healers had Velati Rimewing as good as new. Physically, at least. His ego had taken a beating, and he hadn’t been invited to the big dragons’ table for a meeting with the Stormflight queen last night. It was a petty move on Rosak’s part, but Sohan had called him afterward to share a couple of rare steaks and a bottle of good Scotch while he told him what had happened.

  Over the course of several hours, the Stormflight queen and her entourage had confirmed the scouting reports and filled in the gaps of what Velati had guessed from seeing the destruction of Natar. With the help of several white dragons—the Aesdar—the Chosen had overrun the major cities in the Stormflight lands, one at a time. Humans and Edra were encouraged to join the cause, while the Kadirai were enslaved or slaughtered. The tide had been pushed back in the city of Tahlan-Lev, which was holding on by a thread. Leaving the battered city and its tenacious citizens behind, the Chosen had marched on to the capital, Arvelor.

  Several Chosen leaders had been captured in Tahlan-Lev and interrogated. They didn’t know the master plan, saying that they w
ere to continue to Arvelor and await further instructions there. The original force had come from Agni, a xenophobic human kingdom far to the southwest. That came as no surprise. If the Raspolin were to regrow, the most fertile soil would be in Agni, where dragons were hunted and hated. This also proved that the Chosen weren’t a small, secretive cult, as they appeared to be here in the human realm. They were a massive, organized military force sweeping across Ascavar like a tide of blood. Their grisly operations here seemed to be for supporting the armies in Ascavar by building weapons and providing elixir as fuel for their blood magic.

  Most interesting of all, the two queens had decided to call for a Conclave, a meeting of all the dragon queens. Such a gathering had not been called since the Great War. Sohan and Dyadra had talked them out of a physical meeting, wisely predicting that it would paint an irresistible target on them. Instead, each of the queens in Ascavar would be notified of a date to cross into the human world, safe within the well-protected confines of their Gates. The actual meeting would be conducted as a video conference call.

  “I’d better be there,” Velati told Sohan.

  His old friend nodded. “I’ll see to it.”

  In the morning, Velati was determined to get his head out of his own self-pitying ass and be useful, as he’d promised to be when he first arrived. After a quick shower, he hurried to the training center and rounded up the nearest group of trainees for a run around the compound. His leg still ached but his frustration drove him through the discomfort.

  When they all came stumbling back into the gym after the punishing run, he began a relentless series of exercises, forcing them to square off with him with their elemental power and wooden practice weapons. Some were too dependent on their huge dragon forms. Given the option, he’d always choose a four-thousand pound armored beast over a smaller, squishy form. But, there were many occasions when transforming wasn’t an option. If they were forced to fight inside tight quarters, or if they were simply too exhausted to transform, they had to be able to defend themselves.