The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “I’ve been watching this battle,” she said. “Watching you. I have bigger plans for you than death by vine.”

  Krey coughed and tried to speak. Nothing came out of his bruised throat. He didn’t even have the strength to stand. All he could hope was that someone from his team would rescue him.

  Suddenly, it occurred to him that, while he could hear fighting in the distance, everyone around him was still. Trogs and militia members, all facing outward, surrounded him and the woman. It was like they were all part of the same team, guarding the woman and Krey.

  Oh no.

  The woman grinned, white teeth shining, and placed her right hand on Krey’s head.

  Pain gripped his brain, twisting and stabbing, like nothing he’d ever felt.

  As quickly as it had begun, the pain disappeared. Every thought that had been racing through Krey’s mind halted.

  He stood, still gasping but no longer panicked, and looked into the young woman’s pale-brown eyes, waiting for instructions.

  37

  A trader who visited our town said he could talk to dragons. Not with his mouth, but with his mind. He said some dragons were even his friends.

  My parents didn’t believe him, but I wanted his tales to be true. He told us about dragons who battled one another for lairs and mates. He described to us the beautiful lands the great creatures discovered on their long flights.

  That was decades ago. Still, every time a dragon flies overhead, I send my thoughts to it. I’ve never gotten an answer.

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  Nora ran through the battle, dodging attacks. Nearby, a militia member was regaining consciousness. As she’d done several times to other gray-clad soldiers, Nora knelt, squeezed his neck with the inside of her elbow, and murmured a quiet apology when he passed out.

  She stood and looked around. Many people from both sides were prone, but there were more trogs left than militia members. We might actually win this thing.

  Above, Osmius and Taima were still dropping rocks on militia members. An idea came to Nora, and she sent a message to both dragons. Most of the militia is out of magic. I think you should start picking them up again. If you can get me to Krey, I’ll tell him you need him again so he can tie—

  Osmius interrupted her, his voice loud and urgent in her mind. Nora! Run! I will pick you up!

  What?

  Get away from the battle!

  She obeyed, running down the street and looking over her shoulder to ensure no one was following. A shadow overtook her, and then Osmius landed next to her. Get on!

  She scrambled onto his back. It wasn’t as broad as Taima’s, and Nora easily found a secure position. They took to the air. Below, trogs and soldiers still fought on two sides of the battleground, but a couple dozen people were standing in the street, utterly still, arranged in concentric circles. What’s going on down there? she asked.

  We’ll talk when we stop. They soon landed on the tall building’s roof. Two militia members were tied up there, squirming around. Taima stood on the edge of the roof, overlooking the battle.

  Nora dismounted. Tell me what’s happening!

  I saw people with knife wounds, Taima said. I did not know anyone was fighting with blades.

  Osmius took over the narrative. The Overseer has arrived. She stabbed at least two of the trogs, but she is bringing most of them under her control by touching their heads.

  What about Krey and Ovrun? Nora asked.

  Both controlled by her, Taima replied.

  Nora’s breath caught, but she didn’t allow herself to cry. Under the dawn light of the orange sky, she saw more trogs and militia members turning to join the mind-controlled masses. Three black-clad trogs were fleeing toward the ancient buildings they called home. She couldn’t blame them. Before long, the fight ended, everyone having joined the mind-controlled group in the street.

  What are we going to do? she asked.

  No! The word shot out of Osmius’s mind, in a tone saturated with dread and pain. He comes, he said. I feel his mind. I must go, or he will turn me against you. He leapt off the building.

  I shall come with you! Taima cried.

  No! Stand back so he can’t see you! Osmius commanded in a voice of harsh authority. Save all the— His thoughts suddenly ceased.

  Please, stay! Nora begged Taima. We’ll free Osmius together!

  Taima puffed smoke from her nose, but she didn’t argue. She flew across the roof and hovered just below the back of the building, out of sight of the battle on the other side. As she’d done on this roof before, Nora lay flat. She hadn’t asked Osmius who was coming; she didn’t need to. It was her father. Clearly he’d already grasped the dragon’s mind with his own.

  She squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of her father’s carriage. Why was he coming? The trogs had said he came once a week. Had he somehow found out that his dragons were missing? Even if that were the case, would he have had time to travel all this way? The orsas that pulled his carriage were fast, but not that fast.

  Movement in the sky caught her eye—something smaller than a dragon. A moment later, she identified the familiar sight: a person flying, carrying a passenger. Orsas aren’t that fast, but feather lysters are. Osmius flew to meet the duo, escorting them toward the ground. As one, the circles of mind-controlled soldiers below took a dozen steps back, creating a large, open space. From her high perch, Nora saw someone with long, black hair in the center. The Overseer.

  Osmius landed in the circle, followed by the feather lyster and his passenger.

  Taima, we have to go, Nora said.

  I will burn them all to save my mate. Taima’s beautiful voice held a frightening hardness.

  And then the monarchy will hunt you down and kill every dragon they can find, Nora shot back. Including Osmius! The man that just landed is my father. Let me talk to him. If anyone can stop this, I can.

  Long seconds passed. Very well, Taima said at last.

  Her heart threatening to sprint out of her chest, Nora scampered to the back of the roof. Taima positioned herself so her back was level with the roof, and Nora mounted her. For the first time, she realized Taima’s skin was not pure black. The morning light revealed an amber tinge to it. It was stunning next to her golden wings. I’m ready, Nora said.

  They took off at a reckless speed and quickly arrived above the battleground. Below, Nora saw her father’s gray-streaked, dark-brown hair. He looked up and pointed, and Osmius shot into the air, aimed at Taima, sunlight glinting off his outstretched front claws.

  Osmius! Nora cried.

  The beast she’d grown to love didn’t answer. He flew straight at Taima, who twisted one way, then the other, trying to evade her mate’s attack.

  Get me closer! Nora cried. My father will stop this if he knows I’m here!

  Taima attempted to descend, but she had to pull up again to avoid her mate. There was a terrible, ripping sound as a claw tore into Taima’s wing. She breathed out a great stream of fire. It hit Osmius, but it didn’t harm him. Dragons must be immune to their own fire. Taima continued her frantic flying, trying to evade Osmius’s sharp teeth and claws.

  Nora screamed. One of her hands slipped. As soon as she got it back into place, the other came loose. But they were descending. Nora regained her grip, the hard, reptid skin digging into the soft flesh of her fingers. She embraced the pain. “Dad!” she screamed, her voice still hoarse. “I’m up here!”

  She was close enough now to see his eyes, which widened. She locked her gaze on him alone, searching for compassion in his expression.

  “Nora!” King Ulmin called. Half a second later, Osmius halted his attack and glided back to his position on the ground.

  “It’s me, Dad. Make room. Let her drop me off.”

  The group once again stepped back in unison, making enough space for the huge female dragon to land.

  “Come down, Darling!” Nora’s father called. “You don’t know what dragons are capable of.
They’re beasts!”

  A single sob burst from Nora’s chest. She knew very well what dragons were capable of: fierce pride and loyalty. Yes, there was a beast here. But he was human, not reptid.

  She was convinced, however, that her dad had never faked his love for her. He cared for her, but he was addicted—to the disgusting practice of eating the brains of animals, to his power over minds and over his kingdom. If anyone could reach through that addiction to touch the gentle heart within, it was her.

  “Wait!” her father cried. “Come back!”

  It wasn’t until she heard him that she realized Taima had risen higher. What are you doing? Nora asked.

  I cannot let your father touch me and control me. I shall land outside the circle.

  Seconds later, Nora was on the ground, just beyond the standing, silent bodies of trogs and soldiers. Taima returned to the air and circled above. All at once, the people in front of Nora shifted a step, creating an open corridor that led straight to her waiting father.

  Her pulse was so frantic, she could feel it in her fingertips. If she walked in between these people, would they attack her? Would they swallow her up and deliver her to her dad so he could control her too?

  No. He loves me. He wouldn’t control me. She took a deep breath and stepped in the passage. Within seconds, she glimpsed Krey’s mop of unruly hair. When she’d nearly reached the center, she found Ovrun. His jaw was squared, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Nora wiped tears off her cheeks and kept walking. Again, she fixed her gaze on her father, ignoring everyone else. What could she say to stop him?

  “Sweetheart.” Her father held out his hands as she approached.

  She halted. “Dad, please don’t touch me.”

  His shoulders fell, and he dropped his hands. “Very well.” He stepped back, giving her plenty of space to enter the wide, open area. “I’m so glad to see you. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  Nora stepped into the circle. Behind her, men and women stepped in unison. She didn’t have to look to know that her pathway was now closed.

  Her father’s expression was full of tenderness and hope. It broke Nora’s heart more than cruelty would have. To avoid crying, she pulled her gaze away and sought Osmius. The sight of him—his body fairly bursting with strength, his domed, faceted eyes exuding danger—brought her no comfort. Nora looked away. Next to Osmius sat a middle-aged woman, munching on diced feathers. Dad’s transportation.

  Nora’s eyes fell on the only other person in the center of the circle: The Overseer. As soon as her gaze fell on the young woman, Nora stopped breathing.

  Like every member of her militia, The Overseer wore tight, gray clothes. Her black hair was long and glossy, framing a lovely face. She was even taller than Nora. For years, the princess had envied that height.

  “Faylie,” Nora whispered.

  As soon as the word left her mouth, she started weeping. Her instincts had been right; her friend was part of the militia. The most important part. Faylie had been sitting inside that building, telling the militia to attack Nora, Krey, Ovrun, and a host of innocent trogs. How could she?

  Faylie met Nora’s gaze, and in her cold eyes, Nora saw the truth: The Overseer was just as controlled as her soldiers were.

  At last, Nora returned her attention to her father. “Dad,” she whispered. She had so many questions, and she didn’t know where to start. How was Faylie controlling so many soldiers? The trogs said her strength came from the king. But surely an occasional meal of brain matter couldn’t give him such power. None of this made sense. Magic wasn’t supposed to work this way.

  As much as she wanted to understand her father’s dark magic, another question hammered in Nora’s heart. It was the oldest of questions, the one she’d seen written over and over on the suburban chapel. She had to ask it. “Why?”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Her father sighed deeply and started to reach out for her but pulled his hand back. “I wish you could have a couple more years to enjoy childhood before you face the harsh reality of ruling.”

  “I’m seventeen. I’m not a child.” But her voice was soft, and at that moment, she felt very much like a child.

  “You can’t fault me for wanting you to stay young.”

  She forced another question out: “Why Faylie?”

  “She’s so talented, Nora. And so strong, nearly as strong as I am. She is finally living up to her potential. In return, I’m taking care of her mother; I’ve given her luxury she’s never dreamed of.”

  A sob burst from Nora’s mouth. Her real father, the man he’d been before his wife was murdered, would never think money could make up for stealing someone’s child. Nora brought herself under control by a force of pure will. “This is not the way to make peace with New Therro.”

  His eyebrows twitched, and she knew her knowledge had surprised him. He recovered almost immediately. “New Therro isn’t interested in peace.”

  “How do you know that if you won’t negotiate with them?”

  “Nora, protection officers have prevented six New Therroan terrorist attacks in the past two years.”

  Now she was the one caught by surprise. Six? For a moment, she was horrified. Then a worm of doubt wriggled through her mind. The Office of Kingdom Protection was competent, but they weren’t perfect. If they’d prevented six attacks, wouldn’t they have missed one or two? Yet Nora had never heard of any New Therroan terrorist attacks. Sure, there had been mild violence at some protests, but nothing that seemed premeditated.

  She kept her thoughts to herself. Time to try another tack. “Dad, no matter how just the cause, this is wrong. You know it is.” She gestured at the silent men and women all around them. “Every person here deserves to own their own mind. Even the dragon deserves to be free!”

  “Nora, what is our purpose as lysters?” His voice was gentle.

  Again feeling like a little girl, she repeated words she’d learned over a decade ago, back when she used to go to chapel services with her parents. “To serve God and others with our magical faculties.”

  “What are these people doing, if not serving?”

  “Slavery isn’t service!”

  Her father shook his head. “Please, try to understand.”

  He continued talking, but Taima’s voice penetrated Nora’s mind. Conversation is not the answer. I will free Osmius, if I must burn every person here to do it. Tell him to release my mate’s mind, or fire will rain on you all.

  “Dad!” Nora’s hoarse shout brought his calm speech to a halt. “The dragon above us will kill us if you don’t release her mate!”

  One of his eyebrows lifted in an aristocratic arch. “And you know that how, dear?”

  Nora thrust a pointing hand into the sky. “Because she just told me!”

  He blinked, and something ugly crossed his face. Jealousy, perhaps, or greed. “You’re a dragon speaker,” he whispered.

  Tell him my fire will hit him first! Taima bellowed in Nora’s mind. Once he is gone, they will all be free!

  “No!” Nora screamed. Without thought, she ran to her father and threw her arms around him. “Daddy, she says she’ll kill you first! Please, let the dragon go!”

  “Down!” the king shouted. At once, the serene scene exploded into action. Ulmin threw himself into a crouch, pulling Nora down with him. Bodies piled on top of her and her father. Panicked in a crush of sweaty humans, Nora screamed.

  “Shh,” her father said. “They’re protecting us.”

  Of course—they weren’t attacking her. They were a human shield. “Dad, no!” she shouted. “Just let the dragon go! Please, let them all go!”

  The weight atop her lifted as the crowd shifted just enough to partially uncover her and her father. “Look in the sky, Nora,” her father said softly.

  Above, tiny prisms reflected off both dragons as they fought with horrifying ferocity. Taima attempted to defend herself, but she clearly didn’t want to hurt Osmius. Nora sobbed as she watched Osmius’s teeth and claws tear into his mate�
��s side, her stubby tail, her wings.

  “I can’t stay here with that dragon so near,” Nora’s father whispered in her ear.

  The crowd shifted again, creating a small circle around the king. “Up!” he barked at his feather lyster. The woman leapt to her feet. King Ulmin, however, didn’t immediately get on her back. He hurried to Faylie and whispered in her ear. They both looked at Nora. Their expressions couldn’t have been more different: a cruel smile on The Overseer, naked sorrow on the king.

  “Goodbye, sweetheart,” Nora’s father murmured. He leapt on the feather lyster’s back. They took to the air and were out of sight in seconds, flying low between the city’s tightly spaced buildings.

  Nora returned her attention to the air. Taima was, at the moment, evading her mate. How long would it be before Osmius regained his own mind?

  “Princess Ulminora.” Sarcasm saturated Faylie’s greeting.

  Nora turned. “Faylie, I know you remember me. Let these people go. Please. My father’s gone now. I’ll protect you.”

  A laugh, free of any true humor, burst from Faylie’s mouth. “I don’t need protection.”

  “This can’t be the life you want. You had dreams, Faylie. You wanted to be a teacher. Don’t you remember?”

  Her old friend’s gaze swept over her soldiers. “If you don’t understand the appeal of this, Princess, you don’t deserve to rule.” Her eyes flicked upward, and her lips pressed together in a frown.

  The mind-controlled crowd again moved as one, tightening the circle around their leader and Nora. A few seconds later, two people grabbed Nora’s arms with hands as strong as steel. Nora turned to see a large, male trog holding her on the right. She shifted her gaze to the other side and let out a mournful yelp. Ovrun was the one holding her left arm with an inescapable grip. His eyes were blank, his jaw tight.