Page 94 of Frost Like Night
I don’t allow myself time for thought. I turn, seeking out my newly acquired shadows. Mather’s Thaw lingers around the tent in a protective formation that made Sir nod approval. Whatever Mather did to train them in the short time he had, it was effective.
Mather talks with Sir at the edge of the tent, the two of them angled toward each other. I hesitate, struck yet again by how blind I was for so long not to realize they’re related. They even argue identically—heads tipped to theright, eyes level and unblinking. The similarities bring up a much-needed breath of coolness, the gentle cascade of . . . home.
I cross the tent to them, branding their images into my memory with each footfall.
Moments later, Sir, Mather, and I stand in the main tent, as ready for war as three people can be.
Sir looks like he did every moment of my childhood—outfitted in black and weapons and severity. Mather tightens the strap of his leather breastplate, the deep russet material worn and pliable with age. He has two short swords on his back, a small pouch of supplies wrapped across his chest, and knives strapped over his boots and pants.
I’m far less armed. A short sword swings at my hip and my chakram sits on my back, but any other weapons felt too restrictive. If we’re to do this, if I’m to use my magic, I want the freedom to move unhindered.
Most of my life I spent fighting to have weapons at all. Now I’m marching into war and choosing to go with only two.
But I’m a weapon on my own.
Ceridwen comes up beside me, herself already outfitted for war, only in far more Summerian style—bands hold skintight leather plating over airy orange pants and gruesome weapons I’ve never seen before, small daggers with guards that curve into deadly spikes of their own. Sheshakes her fingers through a few curls that have fallen loose of the strands of braided leather she wove her hair into.
“We have a farewell in Summer,” she says in a tone I haven’t heard from her in a while—the veil of political neutrality. “When someone goes on a long journey, those who stay behind wish them the energy of a wildfire. The power to take things that try to hinder you—wind, thrashing enemies—and use them to make you stronger. The power to burn so brightly that all who look will wonder how darkness ever existed in the same world as you.” She puts a hand on my shoulder, but her resolve breaks, her eyes glassy. “Scorch this world, Winter queen.”
I draw her into a hug, clearing my throat to strengthen my voice. “You’re the ones who will do the hard work. I’m just taking a leisurely trip into the mountains.”
Ceridwen pulls back and fixes me with a long, hard look. Her tear-rimmed eyes hold the barest threat. “We’ll celebrate our victorywhenyou return.”
I want to thank her for everything she’s done. Helping me in Summer, joining my crusade, and believing in me. I want to tell her how glad I am to count her among my friends, and that knowing she’s alive to shepherd the world on makes what I have to do slightly easier.
But I can’t say anything without confirming to her that I don’t plan on returning. So I give her shoulder one final squeeze and bob my head in a vague bow.
“Scorch this world,” I echo.For both of us.
Caspar bids me farewell in a far less emotional way. The sentiment from him is the same, though—speed, strength, victory. Dendera and Henn gather to say their own good-byes. We form a sort of procession, Mather and Sir moving down the line to receive well-wishes too. Mather’s Thaw is last in line, waiting with straight shoulders, appearing more like soldiers than I’ve ever seen them.
Phil’s betrayal did this. Or maybe every piece of this war has done this to them, chipped away at their exteriors until nothing is left but the resilient people who face me.
They pause, silent, and I swallow. Saying farewell to Caspar and Ceridwen was one thing. Even Dendera and Henn didn’t trigger the flutter in my chest. But facing the Thaw is like facing all of Winter, all the people I’ve been fighting to protect my entire life.
“I won’t let you down” is all I can think to say.
That softens a little of their severity, their expressions flashing with gratitude.
Trace inclines his head. “You never could, my queen,” he says, brows pinched.
My jaw clamps shut, and I almost break, again. Thankfully, I’m saved by Mather, who moves in with final orders for them—they’re to serve under Caspar during the battle, and give whatever help is needed.
I pull away, letting him have a moment alone with them, and step out of the tent, my eyes sweeping one last timeover the area. Angra hasn’t moved from where I last sensed him, which is . . . odd. He knows where our army is—he should be leading his own soldiers into position. Or does he intend to sit back and watch his puppets bring about the end of the world without him? I rub the back of my neck, scowling at the empty stretch of valley before me.
In a few hours, these tufts of grass will be nests for bodies. The untouched banks of snow at the opposite end will be macabre in their ivory and scarlet designs.
But the sooner I do this, the less blood will be shed. I just have to concentrate on the task at hand—one act, then another, then another. Right now, all I need to see is where we’re going.
Mather and Sir step up beside me.
“I’ll put us in Jannuari,” I say. “We’ll find Theron and get the keys from him. As soon as we have them, I’ll get us to the Tadil—the quicker we do this, the shorter the battle will have to be. Angra put more guards on the mine, so there will probably be soldiers down there—but hopefully we’ll have surprise on our side. Once they’re down, face the door—we have to cross the barrier and get through it as soon as possible.”
Mather nods. “Get the keys. Cross the barrier. Got it.”
Sir is less ready. “The last time you tried to cross the barrier—”
“That’s why I need you both,” I say. “Three people haveto cross, all with the same will to reach the magic chasm. A united effort.” I stretch my hands out to them, hoping they don’t see how hard I’m shaking. “I don’t know if the barrier will fall completely after that, and if soldiers will be able to follow us in and carry our fight into the labyrinth itself—”
