The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “No, that’s not all you’re saying. Dani just proved how trustworthy she is, and some day, when you’re not so wrapped up in your bitterness, you’ll see that too. Until then, keep your hateful paranoia to yourself.” Despite Nora’s hushed voice, she said the final sentence with enough vitriol to make Krey back up a step.

  “Nora—”

  “Shut up, Krey.” Nora squeezed her eyes shut for two long seconds. When she opened them again, her anger seemed to have fled. “You have very good reasons not to trust my family. But Dani not only told us what she knows, she also gave us a huge gift. Let her help you, just like you’re letting me help you. Please.”

  The gentleness in her words and eyes broke through any arguments he might’ve made, and his own ridiculousness struck him forcefully. He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  She stared at him, one eyebrow raised.

  “Also,” he said, “I’m sorry.” It was a pitiful apology, but he wasn’t sure how to make it better.

  “Like I said, I understand.” She pointed to her closet. “My travel ice chest is in my closet. You and Ovrun can fill it up while I grab the things I need.”

  Ovrun retrieved the chest. He and Krey entered the icehouse. After they filled the chest, Krey fueled himself with feathers. He experimented with holding the chest and floating off the ground. When he incorporated the chest into his magic, the ice chips inside caused him to shiver, which made him laugh.

  Nora entered with a full pack. “Krey, before we go, we should eat as much ice as we can manage. It’ll go to waste here.”

  “Good idea.” Krey knelt next to the large chest, which was still mostly full, and began to eat. Nora did the same.

  When neither of them could consume any more fuel, they extinguished the lantern, and Ovrun put it in his pack. Krey and Ovrun picked up the travel chest, and they all walked out. Once again, the caynins loped up to them but didn’t bother them.

  Krey flew with the chest and left it under some closely spaced trees in the woods. He returned for Ovrun, dropped him off, and went back for Nora. “Ready?”

  “Seriously, just don’t ask.” She sounded queasy but quickly hopped on his back.

  “Hey,” he murmured, “before we go? Thanks. For putting up with me.”

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Now don’t drop me.”

  He chuckled and took to the air.

  They were barely past the residence, not even close to the palace fence, when a noise reached Krey’s ears. Uh-uh-uh-uh! It was a caynin, and it was close. Krey looked down and cursed. An angry animal and a lantern-toting guard were both looking straight at him.

  As Krey accelerated, Nora hissed, “She’s got a gun!”

  Panic shot through Krey’s gut and limbs. His focus broken, he lost his connection with Nora. They dropped at least five mets before he recovered, again enveloping her into his magic. The mistake had brought them dangerously close to the ground. Having heard Nora’s voice with its sensitive ears, the caynin was silent. But Krey could almost feel the guard aiming at them. He pulled up, trying to regain his earlier altitude.

  “Stop!” the guard called. “Come down, or I’ll shoot!”

  They couldn’t outfly a bullet. Krey made a rapid turn to face the guard, eliciting a squealing gasp from Nora.

  “Ice!” he shouted, catalyzing his own fuel and hoping Nora was doing the same.

  The guard’s handgun was pointed directly at them. Krey shot a compact ball of ice from his hand, his panic propelling it with more force than he’d ever used before. Just as it hit the guard in the chest, her pistol fired.

  Krey froze, expecting an agonized cry from himself or his passenger. Instead, all he heard was Nora gasping in a teary voice, “Did she miss? I think it would’ve hit us by now, right?”

  Krey laughed with relief. “Yes, she missed.” He sped toward the palace fence, praying not to get shot. Nora was shaking, which made it harder for him to fly efficiently. He was about to ask her to be still, when he realized she was sobbing.

  “I couldn’t . . . get my magic to work,” she said through tears. “Too . . . too scared.”

  Once they were over the fence, he squeezed one of her knees where it gripped his waist. “It’s okay. We’re safe.”

  When they landed by Ovrun, Nora was still crying. She slid off Krey’s back, and Ovrun immediately pulled her into a tight hug that was more than a little friendly. “What happened?” Ovrun demanded.

  For a brief moment, Krey pondered what Ovrun and Nora might’ve been up to on his solo trips into the city. He shook off the thought and gave Ovrun a quick update.

  As soon as he finished, Nora pulled away from Ovrun. She was still sniffling but seemed to be herself again. “They’ll send guards to search the forest,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Follow me,” Krey said. He couldn’t carry the heavy ice without incorporating it into his flight magic, so he catalyzed some feathers, picked up the ice chest, and flew low to the ground. He moved forward briskly as Ovrun and Nora ran behind him.

  When they were nearly at the edge of the forest, Krey left Ovrun and Nora in the trees while he flew high into the dark air. He returned and reported, “There are two mounted guards on the road, and three guards are searching the forest on foot. If we stay off the road, we’ll be fine.”

  “We need orsas,” Ovrun said.

  “We need sleep first,” Nora said, still panting from their run. “I’m not trying to free a dragon when I’m exhausted.”

  They exited the forest. Nora and Ovrun alternated between walking and running while Krey hovered next to them. They decided to sleep in the abandoned house they’d stayed in before. They entered the city on a minor road and went straight to the house. Cuddled together on the stinking floor, they slept soundly.

  When they woke, it was late morning. They’d brought water and dried food with them. When Nora had eaten her portion, she stifled her complaints of continued hunger. They’d get more food when they could.

  For much of the day, they discussed their next steps. By dusk, they’d come up with the best plan they could, considering how little they knew about what was going on behind the walls of the militia warehouse.

  Ovrun looked between the boards on the window. “It’s getting dim out there.” He put on his hooded jacket and exited through the back door to purchase food and rent orsas.

  “Let’s start eating ice now,” Krey said. “I’m guessing we’ll need magic to free that dragon. I’ll eat feathers too.”

  Nora released a long sigh, shaking her head at the memory of her utter uselessness when the guard had fired at them. The ill-timed failure had stomped all over her confidence.

  She approached Krey, who was kneeling at the open ice chest, and set a hand on his shoulder. “How did you stay focused when that guard shot at us? You were using both your faculties, and I couldn’t even use one.”

  He turned to look at her. “You were already afraid when we started that flight. I wasn’t.”

  “Didn’t the gun scare you?”

  He laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “So how’d you do it?”

  He closed the chest and sat back, resting his elbow on one raised knee and running his fingers through his thick hair. It was several seconds before he answered, “I honestly don’t know. But when you really need your magic, you’ll be able to use it.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He shrugged. “Because I trust you.”

  Nora blinked. “That’s good to hear.”

  “It’s good to say. And I meant it. Now, let’s feast on some ice.”

  They started eating the ice, most of which had stayed frozen, thanks to the chest’s insulation and the chilly weather. Krey ate bits of feathers too. When they couldn’t consume any more, they lay on their backs, hands on their uncomfortably full bellies.

  “We should eat more in a little while,” Nora said.

  Krey groaned. “I taught you too well.” He turned on his side, propping
his head in his hand. “So, how’s Ovrun?”

  Nora stared at the ceiling. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  “Maybe I should ask how the two of you are.”

  “We’re fine.” She tried to keep her voice casual. “It’s nice to have friends.”

  Krey had the audacity to laugh loudly at that. “Yeah, friends are great. Zeisha and I are good friends too.”

  Despite her full belly, Nora flipped over, pushing herself up on her elbows. She tried to glare at Krey, though she could feel a smile threatening to break through. “Remind me, because I swear, I’ve forgotten—what exactly makes this your business?”

  He returned her stare, adding a bold grin. “You just said it’s nice to have friends. Well, I’m your friend. Friends talk about things.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Every time I fly with him on my back, I can sense his entire body. The guy’s got so much muscle, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal. I’d be surprised if you weren’t attracted to him.”

  With a groan, Nora lowered her chest to the ground, resting her head on her arms. “I know, it’s awful. He’s way too hot for his own good. And for mine.”

  Krey raised his eyebrows, and his expression turned serious. “He’s a great guy. You could do a lot worse.”

  “My dad would never let me be with Ovrun.” She halted, taking a deep breath against the pain that those words caused. “Maybe it doesn’t matter what he thinks anymore, but I have to hope someday he’ll be himself again. If not, my Aunt Dani will be my guardian. Eventually, I’ll marry a lyster with good leadership skills and plenty of education. My dad or Dani will have to approve of him. In fact, they’ll probably hand-choose my spouse. Just like my grandmother did for my dad.”

  “Wait, did you say the king has to be a magic eater? I’ve never heard that before.”

  “You know the stats as well as I do, Krey. If I marry a lyster, each of our kids will have a fifty-percent chance of developing a magical faculty. If I marry someone without magic, the chance goes to one in twenty. Krey, my ancestors have ruled this area as mayors and monarchs. They were all lysters, starting with Liri. Cellerinians expect their leaders to be magical.”

  Krey examined her for a long moment, his forehead furrowed. At last, he said, “All the big decisions—your career, if you’ll marry, who you’ll marry—you don’t get to make any of them, do you?”

  She let out a cynical laugh. “I’m allowed to choose which one of my kids will be the next monarch. But my ministers will expect me to choose a lyster.”

  Krey groaned. “Better you than me.”

  “Thanks, Krey, that’s very comforting.” He started to apologize, but she cut him off. “It’s fine, it’s not like I can do anything about it. Come on, let’s eat more fuel.”

  It was dark by the time Ovrun returned, carrying food and water and leading two orsas. He tied the animals behind the house, then left to get the third orsa.

  Bundled in their warmest clothes, Nora and Krey stood outside, lest anyone from this sketchy neighborhood decide to run off with the orsas. “Another cold front,” Krey said.

  “Yeah.” Nora wasn’t thinking about the weather, though. She had her arms around the neck of the orsa she’d claimed as her own. Ovrun had said it was brown, but in the dark, she could swear it was black, just like Blue, her orsa back home. She rubbed her cheek against the fur under its chin.

  “OHH-AHH,” the orsa said.

  “I miss Blue,” Nora murmured.

  “I bet.” Krey was standing next to the other orsa, one of his hands on the animal’s neck. The pale light of a distant streetlamp outlined his stiff stance.

  “Do you know how to ride?” Nora asked.

  “Zeisha’s family has an orsa, so I’ve ridden,” he said.

  “How many times?”

  “A few.”

  He sounded embarrassed to admit he wasn’t an expert at something. “Just bend over low if you start to lose your balance,” Nora said. “You’ll be fine.”

  When Ovrun arrived, he strapped the ice chest behind the saddle of the orsa Nora had chosen. They all mounted and set off.

  Nora’s heart and breaths seemed determined to keep pace with her animal’s quick footsteps. She had plenty of fuel in her belly, but she didn’t think anything would make her feel ready to rescue a dragon.

  She wasn’t sure if she was close enough to communicate with Osmius, but she gave it a shot. Osmius, we’re on our way to rescue your mate.

  His warm voice responded immediately, calming Nora’s nerves. Thank you, Nora-human.

  Nora led the way, using the map Osmius had engraved on her mind. She kept the dragon updated on their progress. Once they left the city and its street lamps, they navigated by the light of the stars. Before long, Nora’s connection to Osmius flickered in and out, then faded to nothing.

  Nora looked back at Krey. He seemed comfortable on his orsa, so she suggested they speed up. All three travelers patted their animals’ backsides, and the orsas started trotting, their feet creating a satisfying rhythm on the packed-dirt road.

  Krey let out a short, panicked cry. Nora turned to see him bouncing in the saddle. He was hunching so low over his animal, he was nearly hugging the thing. A loud guffaw burst from her chest before she could hold it back.

  “Shut up, Ulminora,” Krey muttered.

  Nora tried to stop laughing, but a few more giggles broke through.

  Once Krey again got comfortable on his orsa, the journey was smooth. Sooner than Nora had expected, they crossed the river on a well-kept bridge. Before long, they arrived at the mountain.

  After a bit of searching in the light of a lantern, they found the footpath Osmius had shown Nora. It was too narrow for the orsas, so they tied the beasts to an out-of-the-way tree and started hiking.

  An hour later, Nora was panting. “Good thing we left when we did,” she said. “It didn’t look this far from the viewpoint of a dragon.”

  Ovrun responded with a grunt. Even he was tired.

  Another half hour passed before they reached the place Osmius had warned them about, where the path appeared to end. Before Nora had lost touch with him earlier that night, the dragon had warned her that they shouldn’t use a lantern after this point. Ovrun extinguished it, and they all climbed over a tall stone. Sure enough, the path continued on.

  They tried to travel quietly, though it seemed at least one of them jostled every loose rock and stepped on every twig. Eventually, they encountered the two trees, twisted together, that Nora had been looking for. “Slow down,” Nora whispered. “Be absolutely silent.”

  Painstakingly, Nora crept along the path, testing every footstep before she put her weight down. She, Krey, and Ovrun were still louder than she wanted to be, but she hoped nature’s noises would swallow the sounds of steps and breaths.

  Light shone dimly ahead. Nora forced herself to walk even more slowly. They stopped where the path curved around a large rock outcropping. Nora peeked around it.

  It looked like someone had carved a chunk out of the mountain, leaving an expanse of fairly flat ground, about ten mets square. Lanterns illuminated four men, all large compared to Krey and Nora. Two of them made Ovrun look almost small. Behind them, the mountain rose up again, but there was a large, dark expanse in the rock—the entrance to the cave they were guarding.

  Nora sent a thought toward the cave: My name is Nora. Osmius sent me to save you.

  There was no response. After a minute or so, Nora reached out again. My name is—

  A voice—rich, stunning, and distinctively female—interrupted. I heard you. If you speak truth, I shall be more grateful than you can imagine. If you lie, you shall not survive the night.

  In the Dark: 9

  “I saw a dragon in my dream,” Isla whispered.

  Zeisha moved the string to the second toe of her left foot. Seventeen weeks, two days. She took her friend’s hand. “Sometimes it’s nice to have dreams that have nothing to do with our real lives.”

  “It w
as a memory. The dragon was here.”

  “Here? In this room?”

  “In another room, open to the sunlight. Near the place where we fight every day.”

  Zeisha thought about that for a minute, then said, “Do you remember the night we all woke up to a loud noise? We were only awake for, I don’t know, less than a minute probably.”

  “Yeah. We both thought we’d dreamed it until we realized we both remembered it.”

  “Maybe it was the dragon,” Zeisha said. “Roaring.”

  “Maybe.”

  Zeisha squeezed Isla’s hand. “Tell me more about the dream, before you forget. I’m sure the dragon was scary.”

  “That’s the thing. He wasn’t scary at all. There are plenty of people around who want to hurt us . . . but the dragon, I think he wanted to help.”

  33

  A young boy in our community discovered he could eat ashes to make fire. At first, I was envious. Surely fire magic was more fun than plant magic.

  Then I heard how difficult it was for him to control his magic. In the first month, he started three fires in his family’s house. He’s lucky he didn’t burn the place down.

  His parents built him a small, stone hovel. For a whole year, that was the only place he was allowed to eat ashes and make fire. When he was done practicing, he’d sit in that cold room, with no clothes and no linens, until his parents were certain all his magic was spent.

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  Krey felt Ovrun’s elbow nudge him. At the signal, he crept along the path, back the way they’d come. He gritted his teeth against his annoyance; moving this slowly was torturous.

  Another nudge, and Krey halted. Ovrun drew him into a huddle with Nora, their three heads touching.

  “Did you talk to the dragon?” Krey asked in a bare whisper.

  “Yes. She said if we’re really coming to rescue her, that’s great. If we’re lying, she’ll kill us.”