“That we have.” Brynhild stood, revealing she was missing the lower half of her right leg.
Fates, what a life these two must have lived. And they weren’t alone in this. I’d seen the disfigured fae. I’d known them. Just as I’d met broken families, and those who did not fit in with a blood family. It seemed that times were not better when my father reigned, but they weren’t good now either.
“Thyra wishes to set a trial for you.” Brynhild walked over, more graceful on her false leg than I would have imagined. “It’s her way of seeing how reliable you are—if you’re strong enough for the fight she has been planning for many turns. If you can really work together.”
Thyra was plainly untrusting and equally as tough. Hardened by her past. No doubt the task would be dangerous and difficult.
But as frustrating as I found my sister and this assumption that I’d jump at the chance to complete a task for her, Iwouldrise to the occasion. I had to. Not only did I wish to see Magnus thrown from the throne, but I also wanted someone worthy to sit there. And I wished for revenge. For that, I needed more allies, and the rebels already shared my cause. If I had to prove myself to Thyra to earn their help, I’d do so.
“Fine. Set the task,” I said. “I’ll be ready when it comes.”
Interlude
LORD ROAR LISIKA, WARDEN OF THE WEST, HOUSE OF THE SNOW LEOPARD
Many turns had passed since the Warden of the West had visited the site where his parents and brother died. It was rare that frost giants ventured out of their mountain peaks, but on that foul day, they had. With their appearance, a great family of Winter’s Realm was broken. Nearly wiped off the face of the realm.
Roar could not recall the time after his family died well. The fever from the blight destroyed his mind for days and his body for far longer, but it was said that while their castle in Guldtown was in an uproar, a maid fled with the Princess Isolde in her arms.
When young Roar awoke, his eyes took in a changed world. His family dead. A title now upon his head. And the baby faerie he’d been commanded to wed, gone to the stars only knew where.
And though not a hint of his family’s blood remained upon the snow of this cursed place, Roar felt their presence. He hadeach time he came here and that worried him. Had their souls been denied entry into the afterworld? Had the Fates cut the threads of his father, mother, and brother, and fed it to the serpent that wound through the stars, preventing them from knowing a moment of peace, even in death?
Likely because of Roar’s new leg hindering him in deep snow, the king commanded Roar to stay behind and not help search the area. A mercy, he supposed, though with the sensation of spirits all around and no distractions to occupy his mind, it did not feel like one.
To stave off the aches that came with flying, Roar shifted in his saddle only for his muscles to tighten and send a jolt of pain through his leg. Somehow that same agony extended all the way into the metal that was now a part of him. The phantom ache made Roar’s jaw tightened.
Every morning when he awoke, he swore vengeance against Isolde Falk—he could no longer think of her as Neve, the stray he’d picked up and tried to love, if only because it was what his parents had once wanted. No, now he saw only a duplicitous female.A Falk.
Isolde, however, wasn’t the only fae Roar wanted revenge on. Vale would pay too, though Roar would not bring that up around his newally, the king.
Roar snorted at the notion. An ally! After all the king had put him and his family through, Roar would never stoop so low.He would marry the king’s daughter, but he’d only requested to do so because that sort of request would be expected of someone who wished for an alliance with the Crown of Winter. A pardon, a place on the king’s council, and the hand of his daughter—all very normalappeals when one had such valuable information. His Majesty hadn’t seemed at all surprised by Roar’s petition. Which was just as Roar had planned.
But a true ally, the king was not. Roar only needed to wait, to be patient. Soon enough, vengeance on those who had wronged his family would be his. Then he’d claim what he deserved.
“Nothing in the woods.” The king’s voice hit Roar’s ear. He twisted to find the monarch and his golden-cloaked Clawsguards emerging from the trees.
“No?” Roar asked dryly.
Had the Ice Scepter been here for two decades, he, or the loyal fae he’d sent to search this area, would have found it and brought it to the warden already.
“Not a bleeding thing.” Magnus swung a leg over the gryphon, and the beast, better trained than most of its kind, shifted its wings to oblige. “I wish to go to the closest town. It’s the same one where Vale withdrew coin. There we can make inquiries.”
Finally.Roar had suggested this course of action two days ago, but King Magnus denied him. The White Bear wished to focus on the Ice Scepter, and let others find Isolde for him, which didn’t surprise Roar, but frustrated him when the warden had other goals in mind.
“An excellent idea, Majesty.” Roar gripped the reins tighter. “Shall we fly?”
Roar stood in the middle of the street, assessing the village of Eygin. He’d never visited the place, though this village was, technically, under his protection. The mountains surrounding the village crawled with dangerous creatures and this particular stop on the map was simply too remote to bother with. That a place so small supported a coinary was shocking. Almost as shocking as the fact that Isolde and Vale had made it so far south with so many humans. Roar’s property.
Or they had been.
His fists clenched, anger rolling through him again. He did not know what Isolde and Vale had done with the humans—most likely they were dead in the snow somewhere in the west—a feast for the wild creatures and ogres. Roar didn’t care. But if they were dead, then he hoped their deaths weighed on Isolde’s shoulders. He hoped that the weakness of the humans had slowed her, harmed her. He wished three times that pain for Vale.
But he wanted neither of them to die. Not yet. Not without his presence. Not without them knowing that he’d helped the king find a Hallow of the realm, one that could stifle the ever-worsening weather. Once that was done and Winter’s Realm was to rights once more, he wanted them to watch Roar take the throne for himself.
Then they can die. Magnus too.Roar stared at the coinary façade where the king was now interrogating leprechauns.
He doubted the king would find anything more than he already knew about in the coinary. Rather, he’d have to speak with the locals who frequented places whereone laid their head at night. Vale and Isolde would have had to stay the night in this dunghole.
