Page 40 of Frost Like Night
Mather swallows, the muscles in his neck convulsing. He takes tentative steps forward and leans next to me, against the washbasin’s table. “Angra . . . he didn’t come with us, when his men brought us here. He didn’t stage a direct attack. Why? Why are you here?”
I run my fingers around the outside of the washbasin. Discussing magic and Paisly and my plans for Angra—it suddenly feels like the easiest topic of conversation, instead of talking about all the things I want when I look at Mather.
So I explain it all to him—but I leave out a few details. I tell him what I am now, what happened when Angra broke Winter’s conduit. I tell him what Angra is too, what the Decay is, how it’s spreading. I tell him about Rares and why I followed him—because he is part of the Order, and I couldn’t control my magic, and I needed to know more so I can defeat Angra. I tell him about the labyrinth, about the three tasks and the magic chasm and the keys I need to get from Angra to open it.
But I don’t tell Mather exactly what I need to do to destroy magic. Or even how the magic would keep me alive indefinitely, if I were to not die in the chasm.
Still, when I’m done, he stares at me with horror. Then it washes away with a shake of his head, and he turns, crossing his arms as he drops back against the table.
“We need to get to Winter. To the . . . labyrinth,” he says, dazed. “Before Angra can take full advantage of the uprising Cordell started.”
“Eventually. But I can’t do this unprepared. Angra won’t give me many chances.” I stifle a sigh. “And he won’t give me much time, either.”
“Then we’ll force him to give us time. We’ll get an army—we have to have supporters somewhere.” He shifts against the table, his eyes fluttering shut on a wobbling breath. “We’ll attack him, pull his attention, buy as much time as you need.”
I smile and wrap my hand around his arm. “We’ll plan later—rest now.”
He smiles. “Is that an order, my queen?”
I nudge him toward the bed, but his arm hardens under my touch to make himself immovable.
“Yes, it’s an order,” I say, shoving him futilely. “And might I add, I order you to never get so close to death again.”
My teasing falls flat under his gaze. I think, at first, it’sfrom the mention of what Angra did to him, but he lifts his other hand and grabs my fingers.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes heavy. “I’m sorry this was the only time I came after you.”
I almost ask what he means, but the explanation hits me so hard I choke.
“I didn’t go after you twice before,”he said.
“You always did what was best for Winter,” I say, breathless from the regret that fogs his face. He’s been carrying this guilt around for months? “You couldn’t have done anything to save me when Herod took me to Abril. Angra still thought you were Hannah’s son. If he’d caught you . . . it would have been much worse than what he did now. You helped me by staying away—it would have destroyed me to see you in his hands. And I left Jannuari on political business. How were you to know it would end like it did? Besides, you helped me far more by staying in Winter and training your Thaw.”
One side of Mather’s mouth cocks up, his eyes racing over my face. “I knew you’d try to convince me I shouldn’t feel bad. But duty aside, I should have done more. Been more. For you. I’m sorry, Meira.”
I swallow, but the lump in my throat refuses to dissolve. He adjusts his fingers over my hand, and the bundled muscles in his arms coil tighter under my touch, making me all too aware of how tense his body is, and how close I am tohim. The softness in his face coaxes a dizzy surge through me as his eyes drop to my mouth, staying there for long enough that I sway.
“You should rest,” I tell him, but I barely hear myself.
“Rest,” he echoes, like he only half heard me, like he’s having trouble breathing too.
Snow, has he ever been this close to me before?
My lips part.
Should he be?
I back up, and it’s enough to break the spell.
He runs a hand down his face. “Rest. I suppose I should.”
He finally lets me help him to the cot, where he collapses on an exhausted groan. I don’t let myself linger, backing up so I’m not tempted.
“If you need anything . . .” I trail off, because I’m pretty sure webothneed something.
Mather lolls his head on the pillow to throw me a playful grin. “I’ll come to you.”
I stumble out the door, close it behind me, and collapse against it.
