by K T Munson
“Let’s see who blinks first,” she hissed. Adding pressure to her blade against his throat, she felt him press the dagger tighter to her leg in return.
“For the Sun God’s sake!” Thea heard Fitzu cry out.
Thea didn’t dare move or respond, and kept her eyes locked with the Frost Knight’s. She honestly wondered who would cut who first.
“Thea!” Fitzu cried.
She heard the crunching of snow coming toward her. Suddenly an arm was hooked under hers and the dagger was lifted off the Knight’s throat as she was pulled away from him. Thea and the Knight didn’t take their eyes off each other as Fitzu dragged her off and Kirill picked himself up.
“Thea! Hey! Look at me!” Fitzu ended up having to grab her chin and force her eyes off the Knight. The ends of his spiky black hair danced a little in the ocean breeze, and ice was beginning to form on the tips. Gripping her shoulders, he stooped a little to bring his dark gray eyes level with hers, a sight so familiar that it calmed her down a little. “You know that I respect you as my commanding officer, and I love you as my friend, but you need to stop! In case you haven’t noticed”—he pointed back at the Knight— “this guy is the only one that can get the iceberg to the volcano.”
Thea pressed her lips together and sighed heavily as she looked past Fitzu at Kirill. She really wanted to finish what she’d started, but she knew Fitzu was right. “Let’s get to the volcano then,” she said and started walking toward the stairs. She deliberately slammed her shoulder into the Frost Knight’s as she passed him, and he jerked slightly.
Fitzu followed close behind, and they both made their way back down to the boat. Idok shoved off and started for the cluster of ships at the back of the iceberg. Thea crossed her arms as she gazed out at the other boats. Fitzu was immediately by her side, regarding her expectantly.
“This sucks, you know that?” she finally said without a glance at him.
Fitzu nodded and looked out toward the boats as well. “I know. But we don’t have to deal with him. We keep to ourselves, and he can keep to himself.”
Thea felt her muscles begin to unknot. “This sucks for more reasons than that frost flake though,” she said as she let a shiver run up her spine that shook her entire body.
“Tell me about it,” he said. “I think I left my nuts back on the River Gora!”
Thea threw her head back and laughed as Fitzu grinned broadly. There was the Fitzu she’d been hoping to see on this trip. Maybe this wouldn’t be so horrible. She just had to stay away from that Frost Knight on the iceberg.
Frost: Chapter Nineteen
Already Kirill could feel the heat of the north trying to melt the edges of the iceberg. He glanced at the water barrels with a frown and wondered if they would be enough to get him there and back again. The mass of the iceberg, along with the water barrels, should have been enough to sustain him, but no one anticipated it being so warm so quickly. He had moved them to different strategic locations with most of them at the center.
With a brooding frown, he realized the Fire Nation must be relieved, and that annoyed him. That fire woman was hot headed and impulsive, she likely didn’t think about what the warmth was doing to the iceberg. The lot of them had stuck to manning the boats and stayed far away from him. He was glad enough for the solitude, but he would have to mention his concerns about the oncoming water depths sooner or later.
Later, definitely later, Kirill decided, scanning the water.
Kirill was about to go back to his solitary brooding when fire streaked through the sky from the scout ships. The symbol that appeared, and the direction it appeared from, indicated shallow water on the port side. Kirill blinked, stunned, and then reacted. He ran as hard and fast as he could to the back of the iceberg, gently nudging the entire thing as he and the boats moved away from the port side.
He was nearly to the back when a second flare of fire streaked through the air on the starboard side. He could feel the far edges of the iceberg as it approached the narrow way ahead, but already there was sweat on his brow from the strain of keeping it together and shifting it even slightly. He was going to need to drink more water soon. If they kept hitting shallow water, he was going to have to do a lot of running too, which meant more water he’d need to drink. It was something to pass the time, he supposed.
“Hey, frost flake, you up there?” he heard the fire woman calling from the boats below.
“Don’t call me that,” he growled down when he reached the edge.
“We’ve started to redirect down here,” she called up without responding to his comment.
Kirill felt the mass of snow and ice shifting in the water. “Both sides have issues,” he called out. “I need more eyes as we maneuver through this—at least three people.”
At first, he didn’t hear anything, but when he glanced over the side he saw three bodies moving up the rope ladder. Settling back on his heels, he counted the seconds to see how long they took. Minutes passed before the first arm gripped the top rung of the ladder. Kirill instinctively stepped forward to offer a hand—but stopped when he saw the glare in her eerie, silver-colored eyes. Crossing his arms, he waited for her to pull herself over.
Once she was on the iceberg, she pulled the wool cloak she was wearing closer around her body before turning back to help another man up. It was the one before, Fitzu, who had brought the fire woman around during their last encounter. He didn’t like thinking about how she’d caught him off guard long enough to get him on his back. Kirill kept his mouth shut until the three of them were over the edge.
“We need to split into two groups and watch the port and starboard sides,” Kirill informed them. “Per your scouts, it gets narrow up ahead.”
Without waiting, Kirill turned and started toward the starboard side, which was the side closest to the shore. The closer to shore, the warmer the water. He needed to be on that side to help maintain a higher level of cold. He didn’t care who followed him; he just hoped it wasn’t the fire woman.
He heard her say in a commanding voice, “Signal if we get too close to the edges.”
When Kirill started around the first snowy spire, he heard the distinct crunch of boots on snow behind him. His frown nearly reached his jawline when he saw the fire woman following him, and he hurried to put as much distance between them as he could manage. He half ran and half jogged over to the starboard side. It took a good amount of time, but thankfully they hadn’t reached the shallower waters quite yet.
Peering into the water below, Kirill took a deep swallow of water before wiping the sweat away with the back of his hand again. It didn’t take long for the fire woman to join him with a perplexed expression on her face.
She glanced over the protruding edge to the water below, and then stepped back again, tightening the cloak around her shoulders. “Shouldn’t we be further forward?” she asked.
“This is the widest part of the iceberg,” Kirill grunted. “You can stand over there.”
“Over where?” she asked through clenched teeth. The look on her face suggested she wanted to bite off his nose.
“Around the edge of the mound where it bows out,” he replied, peering down to watch the water again.
She put her hands on her hips and peeked over the edge again. “What exactly am I looking for?” she asked.
Annoyed, he contemplated throwing her over the side. “Ice or snow falling off the edges. It means we’ve run aground. Look for cracks forming as well.”
She shook her head and marched off in the direction he had indicated. When she went around the mound, that put them both on each side of where the ice was widest. It was the most likely place to lose big sections. Unfortunately, though she was out of sight, she wasn’t out of mind because he could feel her heat and the way it was affecting the iceberg.
Kirill peered over the edge and again adjusted the massive iceberg slightly when he felt it rub against the ocean floor. He worried that Derser Rect didn’t know what he was talking about. They
were following the route he mapped out based on his ocean charts. If he was wrong about this path, they could lose parts of the iceberg. From what he had seen, Kirill knew they would need every inch of it for their plan to succeed.
The Frost Nation didn’t know much about the Ebra Ocean because the little they saw of it became something else. The Gulf of Gora or the Ashtra Sea were fed by it, but very little of the ocean itself touched any of their borders. They never had a need to venture that far north either, so they had to rely on what the Derser Rect told them. Kirill didn’t like it, but he had little choice about putting his trust in that nervous little man.
Kirill heard a small pop of fire in the distance.
“Port side needs some room,” the fire woman called. “Fitzu’s only got about a four-foot birth along the edge.”
Kirill adjusted the iceberg ever so slightly again. It was quiet as he continued to watch the water below for any signs of snow or ice.
“How do you stand this cold?” she suddenly burst out, as though she had been holding it in.
He didn’t answer her and continued to maneuver the iceberg slightly out of harm’s way. He could feel the ships at the back helping nudge the iceberg in the right direction. At first, he was content to ignore her, but after a while he could practically make out the sound of her teeth chattering. Worse, Kirill could all but hear Aradel in his head telling him to play nice.
“How long can your magic keep you warm?” he finally asked.
Silence followed his question, and for a minute Kirill wasn’t sure she would answer. It was probably the first nice question he had posed to her since they’d met. Aradel was making him soft, and he sniffed at the thought. His mother would likely laugh at him as Aradel gave him that stare she had mastered in her candidate training. He hated that stare.
“Four hours,” she answered plainly.
Kirill sighed softly. “You’d better fire it up. This narrow section goes on for a while,” he said, although he wasn’t sure exactly how long. “If you need to return and get a replacement, I’ll understand.”
“I’ll last,” she replied curtly.
Kirill glared over his shoulder in her direction. “I’ll last,” he mocked under his breath, with an equally mocking look on his face. Leaning back a bit, he could just make out the edge of a soft orange glow that was coming off her. He shook his head and looked back down at the water. The woman could at least try to be gracious. After all, he was making an attempt. Aradel was wrong; these people couldn’t be reasoned with.
He shifted the iceberg again slightly when the ice and snow beneath his feet began to give under the pressure of the ocean floor below.
Minutes passed in silence, until finally she asked, “Why exactly did you need me here?”
“I need a second set of eyes,” he reiterated as though she were inept.
“But do you really?” she asked and then suddenly let out a yell. “The snow is giving way along the edge!”
Kirill shifted the iceberg again as another streak of fire burned through the air behind them—from Fitzu he assumed—alerting them that the same thing was happening on the port side. They had reached a narrower part of the Ebra Ocean, and Kirill was right to be worried. He fell to his knees, bringing himself closer to the ice, and pressed his hands into it. Focusing, he held as much of the iceberg together as he could, but some ice would inevitably have to be lost for them to fit through.
He closed his eyes to expand his focus, feeling every inch of the iceberg as though it was an appendage. He could feel the ice and snow falling away in the depths. He also felt the heat from the three citizens of the Fire Nation as they slowly heated the frozen ground beneath their feet.
Suddenly, he felt the heat of the fire woman quickly approaching. Before he could find out what she was doing, she jerked him away from the edge. They tumbled backwards, cleanly breaking Kirill’s concentration, and the ice and snow that had been directly below him gave way to fall into the ocean.
Kirill cried out as her heat slightly fractured the skin on his back when he landed on top of her. Sitting up, he stared at the new jagged edge in horror, but could feel that the rest of the iceberg was steady and intact.
He immediately got to his feet and turned to the fire woman as she sat up. There was snow on her cheek, and as it melted, he could see an ugly gray splotch of stone left behind on her skin that slowly faded before his eyes.
“What did you do?” he demanded.
She hadn’t even fully straightened before she blinked at him a few times in astonishment at his reaction. “I saved you!” she yelled.
“Impulsive, idiotic woman!” he yelled, pointing at the place that had fallen away. “I was holding it together.”
“It was giving way, you fool!” she yelled back, coming toe to toe with him.
“I had it under control!” he snapped, unwilling to give even an inch.
“Fine!” she cried. “Next time you’re in trouble don’t come to me for any help!”
“Fine!” he yelled as she turned and started walking away.
“Fine!” she shot back over her shoulder before she went around a large spire.
Kirill let it go quiet for a moment before yelling angrily, “Are you still watching the starboard side?”
“Yes!” she screamed back, just as angry.
Kirill quickly healed the fractured skin on his back. That blasted woman was going to be the end of him. He had never been more frustrated by one individual in his entire life. Not even when he and Aradel had fought over things did he ever want to throw her off an iceberg. He seethed on that idea for a while.
Kirill blinked suddenly as he realized that the fire woman was more impulsive, and perhaps sharp tongued, but she reminded him of Aradel. He groaned inwardly at the thought. He had to be wrong, that of all the people he had met in his life, the fire woman reminded him of the person he knew best. There was no way that could be right; she was a fire banshee. He had to be wrong. He was simply missing home and the company of those he cared for.
Another hour or so passed with no word from the banshee and no signals from the scouts or the two Fire Nation natives watching the port side. Kirill could finally see where the water widened below them, and he knew he was done. He contemplated making the fire woman and her companions stay on the iceberg and freeze, but he was drained, emotionally and physically.
“Fire woman,” he called over once they were through the narrowest part.
She stepped around the edge of the mound she’d been behind with her arms crossed, her expression flat, and her skin still glowing orange. His connection with the iceberg told him she was burning hotter than she had earlier.
“We’re past the narrow. You can—” He didn’t even finish his sentence before the woman turned to head back toward the boats, getting in one final glare before disappearing.
Kirill shook his head and turned toward the barrels of water closest to his location. He could feel the very edge of his powers reaching out to keep the iceberg cold, and he could already feel it waning. He needed water and solitude. No more fire banshees if he could help it.
Fire: Chapter Twenty
Darha was numb. Past being angry or frightened, she was just numb. She was exhausted emotionally and physically, utterly drained from trying to tend to the endless concerns of her people. It wasn’t that her people were asking too much; it was that she couldn’t help them like she wished she could. Nature was too unpredictable, it was too violent, and she was helpless. So when the screams erupted from Fifth Gate, just outside the palace, Darha barely even blinked.
“Majesty! Majesty!” a breathless guard from the watchtowers cried as he entered the throne room. “Something is…I can’t…” He looked terrified and pale. “Tamon,” was the only useful word he could get out.
Darha’s eyes went wide. “Coor!” she bellowed as she jumped up from her throne and ran after the guard in the direction of the watchtowers.
She’d barely gotten his name out before Coor
streaked across the throne room to follow her, abandoning his conversation with two of the regional overlords. Coor, with his much longer stride, caught up quickly, and the three of them ran down the winding halls of the palace. Darha had abandoned her elaborate red gowns of distinction as soon as Thea left, trading them in for more practical traveling garb, and her golden circlet upon her brow as a mark of distinction instead. The way she was running around these days, it only made sense.
Her heart pounded as they raced past the guard, who halted beside the stairwell that spiraled up in rectangles to the watchtowers. Tamon. Something couldn’t be wrong with Tamon! It just couldn’t be. Not now.
That’s when the rumbling and shaking began. It was subtle at first, just barely throwing her and Coor off balance as they ran up the stairs. Then a massive BOOM filled the entire world, followed by a violent shake that threw Darha into the wall of the stairwell, and then back down the stairs. Her hip hit an edge hard, and then her back and head slammed into the stone steps as she rolled down, her neck bending in ways it was never supposed to bend, until she was stopped by the wall of a landing.
Dizzy and disoriented, she wasn’t sure which way was up and which way was down, but she heard Coor yelling her name. He was crouching in front of her a second later, holding her face in his hands and talking a mile a minute. She couldn’t make out a word he was saying, but catching the foggy glimpses, she’d never seen him look so terrified. She reached out to touch his face, hoping to figure out which one of the two she saw was the real one. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and examined her closely just as her fingers grazed his nose.
Another loud boom and massive quake threw Coor backwards into the stairs she’d just fallen down. He hit his back hard, and the pain in his face made Darha’s eyes widen and forced some focus into them. “Coor!” she screamed and started to crawl over to him.