The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  The word pregnant broke through the delicious haze she’d wanted to stay in forever. Her first inclination was to protest that all she was doing was unbuttoning his jacket, and if he thought that would lead to pregnancy, well, he needed some serious education.

  Just before the words traveled from her mind to her mouth, Nora pressed her lips together. She’d had no intention of stopping with his jacket, and they both knew it. Bringing her hands to her warm face, she shook her head. “This is a terrible time for you to be logical.”

  Ovrun’s laugh sliced through the tension hovering between them. “One of us should be.”

  “You know,” she said, trying to pull her eyes and mind away from his stupidly perfect lips, “before The Day, men and women had these tiny devices implanted in them to prevent pregnancy. Even now, there’s a pharmacist in Cellerin City who makes pretty effective, uh, creams.” She felt a blush on her cheeks, which seemed silly considering what she’d been ready to do with him.

  He nodded. “I know. And if we had any of those things now, well . . .” He shook his head with a little shudder and a sigh. “I want you. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

  “Yeah? I mean, I was feeling ambivalent about the whole thing.”

  “Sure you were.” They both laughed, and he locked gazes with her again. “I can be honest with you, right?”

  “Um . . . sure.”

  “I told you if I kissed you, you’d take my heart back to the palace with you. The truth is, you’ve had my heart since I met you.”

  She smiled. “You’ve had my heart since I saw what your muscles looked like in your guard uniform.”

  He groaned, but he was grinning. After a moment, his expression turned serious again. “Nora, sex is a commitment, at least to me. And we can’t commit to each other; we both know that. I can move on from a couple of kisses. I don’t want to have to move on from more.”

  She filled her lungs with air and let it out in a big sigh. “Why do you have to be so sweet?”

  He chuckled. “Sorry.”

  “Was that our last kiss?”

  “I guess so.” He sighed, and his shoulders lifted, just a little.

  Nora knew she shouldn’t read anything into his response, but she couldn’t help it. He shrugged. And he didn’t really answer the question.

  29

  When I was a teenager, my mother became the mayor. One day, she told me about some angry constituents.

  “I don’t see why they have to blame you for everything,” I said.

  She got a sad smile on her face and said, “I fail them all the time, Liri. It’s unavoidable. I can only hope I’m helping them more than hurting them.”

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  Ovrun squinted, trying to identify a building. The nearly full moon cast light on its smooth sides.

  “Recognize that one?” Nora whispered.

  He sighed. “Nope.”

  They’d been walking in the dark for hours, and they’d gotten off track somewhere. Ovrun wanted to blame the darkness, but he knew the truth. He’d gotten distracted because he was thinking more about the girl at his side than the city surrounding them.

  Even shrouded in night’s gray hues, she was beautiful. He couldn’t prevent his eyes from drifting her way. Each time that happened, his thoughts returned to their time under the trees. Kissing her was the best thing he’d done in a long time. The stupidest too.

  Focus, he chided himself. He examined their surroundings again. “I feel like we’re too far east. Let’s turn here.”

  Several minutes later, Nora whispered, “What’s that?”

  Ovrun’s eyes widened. “I think it’s the landmark I was looking for.”

  They approached a round fountain in the middle of the wide street. Moonlight reflected off its crumbling sides. A broken, unidentifiable statue sat in the middle.

  “Maybe eight or ten clommets to go,” Ovrun said, turning left. “A couple more hours, tops.”

  Throughout the night, they’d heard a few footsteps and seen lights in some windows, but so far, they hadn’t encountered any trogs. Now that they were back on the right path, Ovrun dared to hope their expedition would end well.

  They walked several more blocks, and Ovrun pointed into the distance. “See that building, the one that looks like stairsteps against the sky? I recognize it.”

  “Oh, good. So you think—ow!”

  Ovrun gripped her shoulder. “What happened?”

  “Something hit my back.” Nora looked frantically in every direction.

  Ovrun knelt and came back up with a spherical stone. “Think it was this?”

  She took it. “Looks about right.”

  “We better get outta here.” He took her hand, and they turned and started jogging the way they’d come.

  Another stone bounced off the street in front of them. Nora cursed, then pointed at a figure in between two buildings. “There!”

  Ovrun grabbed Nora’s hand. They ran, but rapid footsteps followed. A rock hit Ovrun’s ear at an angle, eliciting a pained grunt. With better aim, the rock might’ve cracked his head open. Or Nora’s. Fury flared in his chest, and he released her hand. “Stay here.” He turned to give chase. Half a second later, he heard Nora’s footsteps behind him.

  Ovrun quickly caught up to the rock thrower. His first instinct was to tackle the attacker, but his better judgment reigned when his hand closed around a very thin arm. This little twerp probably wasn’t even a teenager yet. He caught the kid up in a tight bear hug, trapping both skinny arms.

  Nora reached them and halted, panting.

  “Who are you?” the trog screamed in a high-pitched voice that sounded female. The sound echoed on the dark street.

  “Shh!” Nora covered the kid’s mouth with her hand, then yelped and pulled away. “What the hell? Do you sharpen your teeth?”

  Ovrun thought back to the rock he’d picked up. It was perfectly round, too uniform to be natural. “I think she’s a stone eater.”

  Nora huffed. “That makes sense.”

  Ovrun didn’t envy Nora the bite she’d received. The girl’s teeth were probably broken, ragged, and sharp. Rich stone eaters, like the king, could afford finely milled rocks, ready to be stirred into water and downed like a thick tea. Those without means to buy such fuel, or the patience to mill it themselves, had to swallow small stones whole or do their best to chew them up. Some types of rock worked better than others, and Ovrun had heard that many stone eaters sacrificed their teeth to grind particularly effective fuel.

  The young trog started screaming again. “INTRUDERS! INTRUDERS!”

  Keeping one arm tight on his captive’s torso and arms, Ovrun reached out his other hand and grabbed the kid’s face, his fingers under her jaw and his thumb on her ear, forcing her mouth closed. “All we want to do is leave!” he said. “We aren’t here to hurt anyone. Okay?”

  She nodded, and as soon as Ovrun released her jaw, she shouted again. “INTRUDERS!”

  “Let her go,” Nora said as Ovrun forced the girl’s mouth closed again. “We can run faster than her.”

  It would’ve been a great idea, had the moonlight not revealed an adult approaching them from the left . . . and two from the right . . . and a fourth from behind Nora. Three of the four held knives.

  “Nora!” Ovrun shouted, just as strong hands grabbed her arms and wrenched them behind her.

  Nora screamed.

  The man to her right stepped close and twisted her ear. “Shut it!” he barked.

  Nora stayed quiet, and when the man let go of her ear, she started sobbing. Ovrun’s breath caught as he refused his instinct to drop the trog and go to Nora, who was still being held tight from behind. I can’t. They have knives.

  A woman, the only one not holding a knife, stepped closer. “Let go of my girl! You want us to kill you while you hold her? We will!”

  Ovrun’s eyes met the woman’s. “You tell her to stop making stones and throwing them at us, and I’ll let her
go.”

  “You lie!” the woman screamed. “She doesn’t attack intruders! You lie! You come to take her to new city!”

  Ovrun’s voice rose above hers. “How would we know she was a stone eater if she hadn’t thrown stones at us?” He had to repeat the question twice before the woman finally stopped screaming at him. Then he made his point once more, in a lower voice.

  The woman propped her hands on her bony hips and crossed to her daughter. “You throw stones at them? You do that?” An indecipherable murmur came from the girl, and the woman yelled, “You got stones for brains? Girl, I tell you over and again! Let my girl go, intruder. She won’t throw stones at you now.”

  Ovrun watched the woman warily. He could hold the girl to bargain for their freedom, but it would require threats he wasn’t willing to follow through with. He released the young trog, and her mother pulled her across the street and out of sight.

  “Let my wife go,” Ovrun said. Nora flinched at the term.

  “Why are you here?” the man holding Nora asked. He sounded young, his voice absent the gruffness of the man who’d told her to shut it.

  “We were exploring,” Nora said through continued tears. “We got lost.”

  The gruff man spoke again. “Stupid new-city folk.”

  The third man, who’d been hanging back, stepped toward Ovrun. He spoke slowly, his voice menacing. “You are in Deroga. This city belongs to trogs.”

  “We know.” Ovrun kept his voice calm. “We’re sorry. We thought we were headed out of the city, but we got turned around.”

  “New-city folk don’t know stars,” the gruff man said with a laugh.

  “Do new-city folk know knives?” The slow-speaking man walked right up to Ovrun and held the blade to his throat. “If you move, I move.”

  He was a small guy. Ovrun could take him in a fight, probably even steal the knife. Where would that leave Nora, though? He kept his hands at his sides. “I know bows and arrows. You want the ones on my back? Let us go, and you can have them.”

  The man threatening him with the knife said, “Nice bow, that. I’ll take it off you after I kill you.”

  “Wait!” Nora cried. “I’m the princess, and my father knows I’m here. I left him a note. If I don’t come back, he’ll send the army in here. Your whole way of life—it’ll be gone by next week. You have to let us go!”

  The man behind her laughed. “Nice try.”

  “It’s true,” Ovrun said. “I was one of her guards. We . . . ran away together. I mean, can you blame me? She’s hot as hell.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

  No one said anything for at least fifteen seconds, the longest quarter-minute of Ovrun’s life. Then the gruff guy laughed, a loud guffaw. “Maybe they lie. Maybe they tell the truth. I say, we take his bow, let them go. Stupid new-city folk, too dull to waste sharp blades on.”

  Just like that, the man removed his knife from Ovrun’s throat and stepped away. Ovrun slid the bow and arrows off his back, and when he spoke again, his voice was deathly serious, every trace of humor gone. “Let the princess go, and I’ll give you the weapon.”

  The man released Nora, who was still crying. Ovrun handed over his bow and arrows, put his arm around Nora’s shoulder, and started walking. Nora’s entire body shuddered with sobs, and he tightened his grip, whispering, “You’re okay.”

  “Hey!” the younger man shouted. “New city is that way!”

  Ovrun looked at the man, then shifted direction, leading Nora away.

  When they were several mets away from their attackers, he whispered, “Shh, we don’t want to attract anyone else’s attention.”

  Nora put her hand over her mouth. Her breathing soon steadied.

  Ovrun led her to the next street over, then back in their original direction. He kept his arm tight around her shoulder as they walked in silence for at least a quarter hour. Finally, he spoke in a bare whisper. “You okay?”

  “I think so.” They kept walking, and then she turned her face up and whispered, “I have a question.”

  “What?”

  “You really think I’m hot?”

  He shook with silent laughter. “As hell,” he whispered back.

  Over the next three hours, they repeatedly got lost and had to backtrack. Once, they made a complete circle. Nora couldn’t complain, though. They avoided trogs and arrived down the street from the warehouse well before dawn. Nora wiped tears off her cheeks as they halted. “You got us here.”

  Ovrun didn’t sound as relieved as her. “Now we have to find a place to hide. Somewhere no one will see us once it gets light.”

  A voice entered Nora’s mind. Go to the roof you waited on when you first came here.

  “I was thinking—” Ovrun said.

  “Wait. I’m getting advice from a dragon.” She gave Ovrun a quick smile, then sent out a thought. How are we supposed to get up to the roof?

  Don’t humans use stairs? There was a hint of laughter in his tone.

  Was he making fun of her? We’ll give it a shot, she returned.

  The tall building’s back door wasn’t made from polymus; it was still sturdy and locked. However, there was a broken window nearby. Ovrun gave Nora a lift, and she pulled herself through.

  Once inside, he lit the lantern he’d packed, and they found an open doorway leading to the stairs.

  “How many floors do you think are in this building?” Nora asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe twenty?”

  They started up the stairs. Scattered bones awaited them on two of the landings. Nora didn’t want to see them but couldn’t help looking. So many people, all gone at once. Two hundred years ago, her ancestors and Ovrun’s had beat the odds and somehow avoided dropping dead when the stone killed their neighbors, friends, and families. The bones were creepy, but they also reminded Nora that life was immeasurably precious.

  They were panting by the time they reached the top of the stairs. Ovrun shoved his strong shoulder into a metal door. After a few tries, it opened. He extinguished his lantern, and they stepped onto the same flat roof they’d been on before.

  It was cold up there, without any other buildings to block the winter breeze. They lay next to each other on their bellies, near enough to the edge to watch the street and warehouse below, far enough that Nora didn’t feel like a good gust of wind would blow her off.

  She sent out a thought. We’re on the roof.

  I know, the dragon returned. Dawn will break soon. I sense it. Now is the time to ask me if I trust you.

  She laughed. Do you trust us?

  I have listened to you over the past two days, he said in that low, luminescent voice. Since your first visit here.

  Had that really just been two nights ago? No wonder she was so tired. What did you hear?

  I heard three people who are risking themselves to free slaves. There was a long silence, and he continued, I heard three people who care about one another.

  Nora reviewed their recent conversations in and around the warehouse. Krey had revealed his parents’ deaths. She’d comforted him. She and Ovrun had searched for feathers and hunted shimshims.

  Ovrun shifted, and his shoulder pressed against Nora, briefly reigniting her desire for him. Then her eyes widened. Had the dragon listened in on their moment of passion and their discussion afterward? She decided not to dwell on the possibility.

  Yes, we care about each other, Nora told the dragon. The statement sent warmth into her core.

  I want to help you, the dragon said. However, my assistance comes with a cost.

  She waited, heart pounding.

  My mate is imprisoned in Cellerin Mountain, he said, and his grief resonated in Nora’s heart. If I do not continue guarding this place, she will be killed. You must free her. She will then help you free me. Together, we shall help you free the humans.

  Nora drew in a deep breath and pushed it out. How would they rescue a dragon?

  “You okay?” Ovrun asked.

  “Maybe.”
<
br />   He took her hand, and she sent a thought to the dragon below. I want to say yes, but I need to know more. Where is she? How can we free her?

  Nora flinched as a picture entered her mind. It was like a map, but it wasn’t drawn by a pen. This was a memory, taken from the mind of a dragon who’d soared above the land of Cellerin. There were wispy, floating clouds, gently curving roads, and squiggly, flowing rivers.

  She saw Cellerin Mountain, with Therro Lake to the north and Cellerin City to the east. Deroga, the ancient city where she now waited, was even farther east. Beyond that, Burig Bay’s blue waters beckoned.

  The view suddenly zoomed in, as if Nora were a dragon diving through the sky. It was so realistic that she gasped, her stomach lurching. Ovrun squeezed her hand.

  She was high over the main road that extended west of Cellerin City. There was the palace, and next to it the small forest. Across the road, crops grew in neat, square fields. The dragon continued to direct Nora’s consciousness at a dizzyingly fast speed, farther down the road, across the river, and all the way to Cellerin Mountain.

  Everything slowed. In her mind, she dropped lower, and the dragon began to narrate. You must not fly once you reach the mountain. If you do, the guards shall see you. Follow the footpath. It looks like it ends here, but if you climb over this rock, the path continues. Look for these two trees, twined together. Take the path to the left. Almost there, Nora-human. See the dark spot? That is the cave where they hold my mate. You do not see her, for when I flew here, she was not yet imprisoned. Now, she is chained as I am. She tells me that four large men guard her.

  You can talk to her from here? Nora asked.

  I cannot. Our thoughts do not travel that far. For a time, I was imprisoned near enough to her to communicate.

  The vision faded, but every detail of it was imbedded in Nora’s mind, branded there by the dragon’s magic. Can you tell me anything else?