The vizier spreads his fingers wide, voice hoarse and raspy. “I have seen with my own eyes what evil has befallen the Winter Prince! In my quest to free the Vale of its attachments to these futile leaders, my designs accidentally crossed into Autumn territory. But now, word comes that Coppershire shelters the High Princes, and they intend to make war on Winter. So, we shall strike first!”
Farron grabs my shaking hands in his. A fervor takes the crowd, and Perth’s crown blinks with that poisonous inward light.
“Coppershire will be the first to fall, but the rest of Autumn will soon follow. Then we shall take Spring and Summer. All the realms will know of the mercy of living under a free Winter. A Winter not led by a useless boy, but by the people!”
The crowd begins another uproarious cheer, but Perth holds up a single finger. “It is you who must do this thing. You who must sacrifice your mortal body to become something greater. Something worthy of the great destiny that awaits Winter. Who shall be the first?” He surveys the crowd. “Who stands brave enough to deliver Winter’s grace?”
“I do.” A young soldier steps out of the crowd and onto the dais.
A sliver of a smile crawls up Perth’s face. From out of the wide sleeves of his robe, he pulls a dagger. “Then you know what must be done.”
The man takes the dagger with shaking fingers and holds it to his breast.
“What’s happening?” I whisper to Farron.
“I don’t—”
A horrible squelch sounds in the valley. The man’s hands fall from the dagger that he plunged into his own heart, and he hits the icy dais with a thud.
“Do not mourn him,” Perth calls to the crowd, “for he is to be reborn as something greater.”
His crown pulses with green energy, and his cold eyes gleam with anticipation. He mutters an incantation and raises his arms out to the sides. A frigid wind swirls around him, carrying the unmistakable stench of death.
The fallen body twitches and convulses. Frost forms on the skin, and the limbs jerk, then stiffen. The dead man’s eyes shoot open, but they are no longer filled with the warmth of life. Instead, they are glazed over with cold, soulless emptiness.
A winter wraith. This is how they’re created. It’s been Perth Quellos’s doing.
“Kel trusted him,” I manage.
Farron’s face scrunches with anger. “Quellos framed him. He allowed these creatures to ravage Autumn.”
The wraith rises, its movements jerky and uncoordinated, the skin a sickly shade of blue.
It stands obediently beside the hooded figure on the dais.
“Now,” Perth says, “who is next?”
Farron and I watch in horror as soldier after soldier volunteers. Each one drives a dagger through their own heart, only to be resurrected into something unnatural and obedient.
“We have to warn the city,” I urge and Farron nods.
The terrified voice of a soldier halts our escape. “Your Eminence, with all due respect, there are not enough of us here to take the capital! Should we not gather more troops?”
Perth gives a sinister grin. “Why, my good man, you are surrounded by the rest of your comrades.”
Frosty light pulses from Perth’s crown, and green mist seems to stream from his eyes, his nostrils, his mouth, as he raises his arms. A rotten stench of death and decay fills the air as the ground around the camp rumbles. The earth stirs, turning over and over itself until…
Hands. Bony hands shoot up from the ground. Skeletons claw their way to the surface, their limbs creaking and cracking as they pry themselves loose from dirt. Not just fae, but the skeletons of goblins, too. All the fighters who were taken during the mudslide during the War of Thorns.
Icicles protrude from the bones as they shamble toward the base of camp, hollow eye sockets fixed on their master. Hundreds and hundreds shuffle forward, falling into rank.
Farron’s breathing quickens. “No… It can’t be.”
Perth purposely camped upon the mass grave. He planned this.
His voice beams with reverent pride. “At dawn, we march on Coppershire!”
Anger and grief war in Farron’s eyes, but I grab his arm and yank him away from the army. We take off at a run, finding shelter in the treeline once again.
