Page 98 of Frost Like Night
It will be just Theron and me.
At the top of the staircase, Sir darts to the right, forginga path toward a side door on the eastern edge of the palace. Mather shoots me one last look, weighted with purpose and surety in the way he tries to smile, and they’re gone, leaving me alone in the dark, quiet hall.
There is one last thing I can do for them, though. I close my eyes, suck in a breath, and funnel a powerful surge of magic into Mather, Sir, and Greer, bleeding strength into their bodies.
I breathe in and turn down the hall, opposite them.
No soldiers guard these halls; no further traps lie in wait for me. The only noise is the creaking and groaning of the broken palace, occasional flurries of dust raining from the ceiling. When I catch glimpses out the windows, the roads are empty, the only inhabitants stray spirals of snowflakes that spin on gusts of wind.
If I couldn’t sense Theron, I would almost believe this kingdom was deserted again.
Finally, the hall ends in looming double doors that hold the ballroom behind them. I stop, one hand on the curving knob and my ear to the crack between them.
Metal clanks. Someone whispers harsh orders before everything falls silent.
The soldiers are still within.
I pause, my attention split between listening to the ballroom and watching the hall behind me. After a few heartbeats of anticipation, each moment stacking atop the last to create a trembling wall of expectancy, it all comescrashing down when a shout echoes through the ballroom.
“Attack!”
“Intruders, spotted outside—”
A voice, then. One I know well.
“After them!”
Theron’s order spurs the soldiers into action. The pounding of booted feet fills the ballroom in such a deliberate rush that I can’t tell which direction they’re marching. Panic sings through my chest and I fly back from the door, holding flat against the wall should they burst through this way. But a moment passes, and the chaos fades through the main doors, retreating into a battle for Mather, Sir, and Greer while I’m left with an empty ballroom.
And Theron.
Because he’s still there. I can feel him, a sparking sensation that eats at my heart as my magic reacts to his. Close, so close . . .
I ease away from the wall and approach the door again, fingers around the handle. No time for hesitation—the longer this drags out, the longer the battle has to rage outside the palace.
So I pull open the door and march into my ballroom, head held high, muscles tense and ready for whatever might be awaiting me. An attack; a debilitating vision; a memory.
The ballroom is empty, the marble floor gleaming white. The windows carved into the southern wall have been covered with heavy black cloth that drips from the hole in theceiling, cutting out most of the natural light. Tendrils of it peek through, though, slivers of white that let me see the only person still here.
Theron, in the middle of the room, arms behind his back and chin level.
His dark eyes latch onto mine as if he knew exactly where I’d be. The moment he sees me, his expression is sohim, so happy and calm, that I almost forget what he is now, all he’s done.
“My queen,” he says. “Welcome home.”
29
Ceridwen
EVERYTHING CERIDWEN KNEWabout Autumnian warriors proved true.
Never had she seen such dedicated soldiers. The moment Meira and her group left—flame and heat, the moment they’d agreed to go to war at all—every body bound for fighting turned into a weapon, nothing more. The Autumnians were calm, their eyes alert, their muscles taut, so each of them resembled more a beast on a hunt than a person.
If they achieved ferocity like this without a female monarch who could use their conduit magic to give them strength, how much more intimidating would they be with one?
Ceridwen caught herself. Magic would never again be an influence in their lives after today—a welcome change that would level their out-of-balance world. But to have been able to see the Autumnians spurred by both natural andmagical abilities would have been spectacular.
As Ceridwen jogged back to the main tent for one final meeting with Caspar, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing west, toward wherever the new camp was that held the loved ones of every person in this army. Caspar’s family, Lekan’s family, her family.
