by Tara West
She refused to cower when Ryne turned his icy glare on her.
“And how do you propose we get them all there?” he spat.
“I don’t know. Mayhap we can think of a way.”
“Does Aloa-Shay have enough ships for us to buy passage?” Simeon asked.
Ryne shook his head. “Doubtful.”
“If needed, I can be very persuasive.” Simeon flashed Dianna a seductive smile.
She felt heat creep into her cheeks as she thought about the kiss they’d almost shared. Her hand tingled at the memory of her handprint on his mahogany skin after she’d smacked his face. Yes, he could be very persuasive, but she was no man’s fool.
“Why didn’t you persuade King Furbald to let us inside his kingdom?” Ryne’s tone was laced with accusation as he narrowed his eyes at Simeon.
Simeon arched back, sneering. “I didn’t know it was urgent we see inside.”
“I want to see what he’s hiding.” Ryne pouted, stabbing the map with a finger.
She looked at Ryne, carefully considering his words. Shadows from the hearth’s fire danced across his blue-tinted skin, making the angles of his face more severe.
“How do you know he’s hiding anything?” she asked, glad to know she wasn’t the only one who didn’t trust the king, especially after he’d turned away Zier’s family.
He stabbed the map again, this time puncturing it with the tip of his finger. “Why else won’t they let anyone in?”
Alec snatched the map from Ryne and rolled it up with a scowl. “What could they be hiding?”
“Weapons?” Ryne shrugged. “Gold? A goddess stone?”
“Surely, if they were hiding a goddess stone, Grim would have told us.” Alec slid the map back into his sack.
“Whatever they are hiding is a treasure indeed.” Ryne stood and stretched before grabbing a wine goblet off a nearby table. “Why else would they adopt so many giants? And how did they acquire them? I can’t imagine giants would give up their young so easily.” Ryne took a sip of wine before wiping his mouth with his hand. “I counted at least a dozen giants coming and going from the hold to Aya-Shay today.”
“That is a lot of giants.” Dianna, too, had wondered where they’d come from and how the dwarves kept them fed. “It makes no sense.”
Simeon shot to his feet, hands clenched. “Are you always this mistrustful, Ryne?”
“No.” Ryne jutted a foot forward, his hand coming to rest on the blade hanging on his belt. “Not always.”
Simeon tossed up his hands, snickering. “They feed us, shelter us, even give us warm furs, and you thank them with suspicion?”
A muscle twitched above Ryne’s mouth as he tapped the hilt of his blade. “I am merely making an observation.”
“Maybe it’s not your job to observe.” The lines on the sides of Simeon’s neck swelled as he raised his fists. “Maybe you should just be quiet and not concern yourself with the dwarves.”
“Everything is my concern when I’m trying to save my people from Madhea’s wrath!” Ryne bellowed, sticking another foot forward and grasping his blade with white knuckles.
“Like you saved your last three companions?” Simeon laughed, exposing a cynical side Dianna hadn’t seen before. “You falsely accused the dwarves of theft, which lead to your imprisonment and their deaths.”
Boar’s blood! She shared wary looks with Alec, then glared back at the stupid slogs, who were going to kill each other before the night was through.
“You son of a siren!” Ryne hollered, flying toward Simeon, a flash of steel in his grip.
“Enough!” Dianna cried as she stood, throwing her arms wide. A loud crack rent the air. Both men were flung back, their backs slamming into the stone walls. They slid to the ground, groaning and clutching their sides.
She rushed to Alec, who’d been toppled by the force of her magic, and helped him stand. She spun around at the sound of Des crying, and her heart hit the floor. He’d rolled off the bench onto a bearskin rug.
The startled boy continued crying as she helped him up.
“See what you made me do!” She scowled at Ryne and then Simeon, who were still sitting on their arses, eyes wide with shock.
She helped Des to a nearby bunk, tucking him under the furs and whispering, “It’s okay, brother. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She kissed his forehead, then wiped his eyes.
By the time she’d gotten Des back to sleep, Ryne and Simeon had stood and were returning to the hearth, their eyes downcast like mongrels caught stealing scraps.
When a loud knock sounded at the door, Dianna feared she’d accidentally flattened the entire campsite.
Alec shot her a worried look before reaching the heavy wooden door in a few long strides.
Zier rushed inside, clutching his woolen cap in his hands. “I’m sorry, Mistress Dianna, could you spare a moment?”
“Of course.” She wiped her wet fingers on her breeches. “What is it?”
“The children are sick with fever.”
She remembered the two sniffling, flame-haired tots hanging onto their father’s leg when Zier’s family had first arrived at the hold. She should’ve realized the children were sick, especially as Sofla had said they’d nearly frozen to death.
“Oh no,” she cried, snatching her leather boots from beside the bench. “Take me to them.”
The little man let out a shuddering sigh. “Thank you.”
She scowled at Simeon and Ryne, who were sitting opposite each other, heads in their hands as if they’d imbibed too much. “There is to be no fighting while I’m gone.” She wagged her finger at one man and then the other. “Do I make myself clear?”
Simeon nodded, but Ryne answered with a scowl.
“Don’t worry, sister.” Alec placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I will make sure they behave.”
Ryne snorted before leaning back and crossing his arms.
“Do as he says, Ryne,” she scolded, “or next time I’ll make sure you land so hard on your bollocks, your eyes will be crossed for a week.”
That seemed to achieve the desired result. Ryne shot up, his shoulders stiffening while he pressed his knees together and cupped his crotch. He looked at Dianna with wide-eyed horror before nodding his understanding.
She left in a huff, cursing all men as foolish broots. Still, she couldn’t help but smile after asserting her dominance over Ryne. Mahap next time he’d consult with her before deciding her destiny.
SHE FOLLOWED ZIER INTO the hut, her eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight, and spied two small children bundled up in furs on a cot along the wall. Sitting beside them was their mother, cradling their hands. The other adults were gathered beside the fire, the men staring into their cups with lines of worry etched into their faces, and Zelda and Sogred rocking the infants in a long cradle.
“There, there, Sofla.” Zier patted his daughter on the back. “Do not cry, darling. I have brought your sons a great healer.”
Sofla looked up at her father with a trembling lip. “Their fevers are so strong.”
Dianna nodded to the others, feeling as if she was intruding on family privacy as she crossed the room to the children. “Let me see them.” She sat beside Sofla, looking down at two sleeping cherubic faces whose flushed faces matched their flame-colored hair. “Oh, they are cute little mites.”
She stroked one little boy on the cheek, as she’d done so many times with her brother, alarmed when he didn’t so much as twitch. Only his chest moved, heaving up and down as he strained for ragged breaths. Dianna felt the flushed face of his twin brother, who gave the exact same reaction.
“Aletha,” she whispered, rubbing her stone. “I need you.” Aletha’s stone was easy to recognize, for it was rounder than the others, with a small dent in one side.
I know, her cousin’s answer reverberated in her mind.
“Can you help me heal them?” she whispered.
I shall do my best, Aletha answered. These babes will di
e by morning if their sickness progresses.
She swallowed hard. “We cannot let that happen.” She hated how her voice shook and hoped Sofla could not detect her fear, though something in the way Sofla gaped at her made her think the dwarf could not just sense her panic but see into her very soul.
Hold me in your hand, Aletha commanded, and press it against their hearts.
She withdrew the stone from her vest and cradled it against the nearest twin’s heart. She allowed her magic to carry her to that place between this world and the next and warm pulses poured from her fingers.
Good. Now the other, Aletha said.
Her eyes shot open, and she smiled at the little boy with the porcelain cheeks who blinked up at her. She placed the stone on the other child, closed her eyes, and let her magic flow through her.
Wonderful. Look, they are feeling better already.
Dianna opened her eyes again, amazed that both children were smiling at her. She’d hardly used her magic to heal them. Were her powers getting stronger or had Aletha done most of the work? She pocketed the stone, whispering her thanks to her cousin.
“My sweet Hamily and Finlay!” Sofla flung herself on top of her children, alternating between weeping and showering them with kisses.
Her husband came to stand beside her, his eyes overflowing as he ran a hand across his children’s foreheads.
Sofla turned to Dianna, hands clasped. “Oh, my dear, most benevolent goddess, with all my heart, thank you.”
Heat flamed Dianna’s face. “I am no goddess.” How odd that the dwarf would call her that. She’d never felt like one. Nay, she was Dianna, reluctant witch and sister to three brave brothers, nothing more.
“You are to me.” Sofla sniffled and pulled one of her tots into her lap, kissing him and then handing him to her husband. She picked up the other child, smoothing his wet hair out of his eyes. “A compassionate, kind deity like the fallen goddess Kyan.”
She wasn’t so sure she liked being compared to Kyan, for she could never measure up to that goddess.
“I thank you.” She slipped Aletha’s stone out of her pocket, showing it to Sofla before pocketing it again. “But I had help. I’m only doing what any woman with my powers would have done.”
Sofla’s husband chuckled and returned to the hearth, rocking the toddler in his arms. She wondered what was so amusing.
“My dear deity.” Sofla patted her hand. “The town of Kicelin has been directly under Madhea’s mountain for centuries. Every winter we lose many children to plague and disease. Madhea has never once flown down to help.”
She cringed. How ashamed she was to have such a mother. “I’m sorry for that.”
And truly she was. She felt the weight of Madhea’s sins as if they were her own. It was silly, but she feared other people would feel the same way, that she was somehow responsible for her mother’s cruel behavior.
Sofla shifted the restless child in her arms. “I can hardly believe you are Madhea’s daughter.”
“Neither can I,” she blurted.
“But we do not hold your parentage against you.” Sogred sat down on the other side of the cot, patting Dianna’s knee as if comforting a child. “Our father has told us how kind you are, how you saved the people of Adolan by stealing away the ice dragon.”
She released a pent-up breath of air, not even realizing she’d been holding it. “Thank you.”
Sofla’s face, blotchy and red from crying, turned ashen as her smile faded. “I hope you are able to defeat her, not just for your sake, but for all our sakes, for if you should fail, she will freeze the world, and we will all perish.” She ended on a sob, then gently rocked the child in her arms.
Dianna fought to swallow the knot of emotion in her throat. “I promise I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening.” She only prayed her efforts would be good enough.
Chapter Five
Madhea buzzed into Ariette’s chamber, an opulent room lined with white furs on the walls and floors, and a wide bed with posts made of polished ivory gnull tusks. This bed was a remnant of when her kingdom had been great, back when she’d had an army with thousands of strong, virile men and magic flowed freely from her fingers. After her army’s last battle with Eris’s soldiers, Madhea’s great force had been vanquished, and the Elementals had forced her to sign yet another truce with her sister. Madhea had neither the patience nor desire to rebuild again, so she’d signed, allowing Eris to take even more land, including prime seaside villages. With Eris dead, all that land belonged to Madhea once again, and she wasn’t about to risk losing it to Dianna, which was why she needed a plan. Madhea knew not how many stones Dianna had in her possession, but she suspected the girl’s half-brother, Markus, had helped her acquire them. Madhea had thought all night of the man/boy who looked too much like his father. She wondered how close he was to Dianna, if they’d yet formed a sibling bond. If so, Madhea could use that to her advantage.
She fluttered toward her daughter’s bed, now occupied by the blue man from the dungeon. He was sleeping soundly under the furs, no doubt his first good rest since he’d been released from his cell. Madhea landed softly beside him, grabbing a bony shoulder and shaking him. “Wake up.”
The blue man’s eyes shot open, his pupils as dazzling as frosted glass. He sucked in a hiss and scooted back against the fur-lined wall. “W-what do you want?”
She released an impatient sigh. She’d no time for coddling. She needed answers. “What is your name, blue man?”
“Bane.” He jerked a fur higher, covering a skeletal ribcage. “Bane Eryll.”
Madhea’s gaze narrowed on the man, his hollow cheeks appearing to recede into his skull as he shrank from her. “Bane Eryll.” She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Why were you wandering my mountain alone?”
He gaped at her like a dumbstruck pixie moments after flying into a reflective wall of ice.
She gritted her teeth, leaning forward. “Tell me, Bane.”
He clutched the fur with white knuckles, his cheeks flushing as he turned his gaze to his lap. “I’d been outed.”
She arched a brow. “Outed?”
He slowly nodded. “Cast out.”
Madhea crossed one long leg over the other, eying him intently. Whatever he’d done, she was certain he’d deserved it. “By whom?”
He averted his eyes, his face turning bright with crimson splotches. “My people.”
Oh, yes, he’d deserved it. Still, she didn’t care about his crime, especially as she planned on outing him as well as soon as she got what she wanted. Only Bane Eryll wouldn’t survive her outing, for discarded mortals were pushed off the ledge, a narrow strip of ice with an unfathomable drop beneath.
She traced his bony knee under the furs. “Are they all blue like you?”
He jerked his knee away. “Yes.”
Madhea ran a hand over the knots in her braid. This man in a boy’s body was nothing like Rowlen. He reminded her of a fragile flower preserved within a block of ice. “Where do these blue people live?”
His gaze shot to hers before he again looked away. “In Ice Kingdom.”
She forced a smile, stretching her lips so tight, her skin cracked like old leather. “And where is Ice Kingdom?”
“I cannot tell.”
Madhea bit back a curse. “Why not?” she snapped, wincing at the sharp edge in her tone.
He scooted farther away from her. “I-I cannot betray my people.”
“You mean the people who abandoned you for snowbear bait?” she said on a hiss, her patience wearing thin.
“I broke their laws.” His lip turned down, his lashes glistening with tears, making him look more baby than man.
Perhaps, she thought, she needed to treat him like a child. This man had obviously been used to coddling, which would explain his pathetic cowardice. Rowlen wouldn’t have shied away and cried. Rowlen would have looked her in the eyes and faced her fury. If only Bane was more like Rowlen.
“Wh
atever you have done,” she cooed, stroking his arm and forcing another smile, “surely, this outing was too harsh a punishment. Have the Ice People no compassion?”
The man-boy shrugged, pressing his back against the wall.
“I came across a blue man not long ago,” she continued. “He was from the town of Adolan, but he’d been living with your people. He goes by the name of Markus.”
Bane stiffened, his wide, innocent eyes narrowing, twin fires burning within their depths.
Finally! The reaction she had been seeking. “You’ve heard of him?”
He nodded, his mouth hardening into a firm line. “Yes.”
She fought the urge to cackle with joy. She’d managed to stoke Bane’s ire. Good. She’d use his hatred of Markus to her advantage. “He had something quite interesting in his possession.” She flashed a sideways grin. “A magical stone.”
His jaw dropped. “A warming stone?”
She shrugged indifferently, pretending the stone mattered nothing to her. “Is that what you call it?”
His face colored a deep crimson. “Those belong to the Ice People.”
She fought the urge to jump out of her skin. “There are more?” she asked evenly. Oh, heavenly Elements! How many stones had been given to Dianna?
“We have five,” Bane said, lifting his chin in proud defiance. “They belong to the most affluent families of Ice Kingdom, mine included.”
She thoughtfully rubbed her jaw, forcing a note of calm into her voice, though her heart was pounding like a hammer in her ears. “Five stones?”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “They are used to warm our hearths. They are very valuable to my people. The land dweller should not have had one.”
Oh, what simpletons the Ice People were! Warming stones! Each stone had the power of a goddess inside. Madhea knew this because it was she who’d cursed Kyan and her six daughters over a thousand years ago. The Elements had taken the stones from Madhea and given them to Kyan’s two foolish sons, who’d lost their minds and misplaced them. She had thought the magical stones were lost to her forever.