Page 13 of Frost Like Night
Rares drags me to my feet, but I don’t see anything. Not just don’t—can’t, because the moment I’m standing, the forest evaporates into blackness, the moist warmth replaced by biting cold, the delicate breeze by stinging, icy wind. I gag on the sudden thinness of the air, and all I know beyond my shock is that we’re no longer in Ventralli.
Rares ismovingus. And not just up slightly and back down—I feel the distance flying beneath us as surely as I see blackness all around. We’re spiraling in a surge of magic, the air sparking with electricity that eats at my skin. My heart lodges so tightly in my throat, I wonder if it will ever loosen; my palms are slick with so much sweat that I fear I’ll lose my grip on Rares’s hand and go spiraling into oblivion.
Rares must sense my terror, because he wraps his armsaround me. The silence of being suspended wherever we are, of being held tight in protective arms, pulls my mind to the last time someone wrapped me up like this—Sir, in Angra’s cruel vision months ago. When I knelt on the floor of the cottage in Winter and he tucked me into his arms and everything was perfect.
No—everything was not perfect. The real Sir would never hug me like that. Likethis.
I stumble back, trembling, on solid ground once again. We’re not in the forest anymore—we’re in a cave. Behind me, orange light dances.
Those details register in my mind as everything in my stomach rushes for my throat and I topple forward, retching.
Rares crouches next to me. “You handled it better than I did my first time. I vomited, passed out, woke up, and vomited again—all before I’d even reached the destination.”
I heave once more. “Passing out doesn’t feel that far off.”
Rares takes my elbow. “Let’s get you up, then. No time for unconsciousness here.”
My blubber of protest goes unheard, and as soon as I’m vertical, he shifts, pointing into the tunnel. “Can’t see it, but this leads to the widest valley on the western edge of the Paisels. Not many know of this route, but the tunnel cuts through the mountains and into Paisly—it’s a two-week trip otherwise. This shortcut was my backup option if you hadn’t been able to grasp the moving-leaf concept,but thank our lucky magic you did, because I righthatetraveling, even if it’d only be a few days. The one thing about being a conduit I’ll miss—the ease of transportation.”
“You used magic to fly us to Paisly?” I choke down another roll of nausea. “Who else is capable of using their magic like that?”
But I know the answer before Rares looks at me.
“As I said, Paisly keeps a barrier up to prevent any outside magic from intruding. The only outsider who can use his magic to travel is Angra, as he’s a conduit just as we are, but he can only use that ability on his Spring citizens or himself. It isn’t technically an aspect of the Decay—not unless he intended to hurt someone with it. Basically, Angra would be a fool to use it, as he can’t transport his entire army, and that plus the barrier means you’re safe here.”
Yet again, Rares’s explanation does little to quench my terror. But I nod, accepting it.
Rares squishes his face. “Anyway. We’re not quite in Paisly yet.”
He turns. Behind us, a man stands in the glow of the torches. Exhaustion trembles in my every limb, but I hook my thumbs into the straps of my chakram’s empty holster.
Rares waves at him. “Alin, Meira—Meira, Alin.”
Alin tips his head at me but spins away to face a solid wall of rock—the end of the tunnel.
As Alin braces his hands against the wall, Rares leans over to me.
“He’s a soldier under me in the Order. Don’t worry; I can keep him from hearing your thoughts. This entrance has been under my guard for, well, ever. The whole kingdom is in a valley, which makes controlling who comes and goes a rather respected position.”
My eyes flash wide when Alin shoves the wall, causing it to move. Like Conall and Garrigan when I threw them; like the leaf in Rares’s palm; like us as we hurtled from Ventralli to the tunnel. What had once been a solid dead end shifts bit by bit to reveal—Paisly.
Night envelops the area, but thanks to the moon, I’m able to see the gray castle that sits just below this entrance and, even farther down, a village wrapped in shadow. Even the outline of distant peaks on the horizon is visible, a contrast of darkness against the paler black-gray sky.
Rares and Alin step ahead, talking on the cliff outside the entrance, giving me a much-needed reprieve, alone in the cave.
Meira.
My heart stops with a jolt.
Did Rares drop the protection he put on my mind? He said that the Order kept a barrier around Paisly, so Angra wouldn’t be able to reach me here.
I look at the floor of the cave, then Rares outside, a stone sinking through my gut.
I’m not in Paisly yet.
5
Meira
