Page 91 of Frost Like Night
Only one moment. War never allowed for more than that.
Mather turned to the Thaw, who pressed tightly together as the soldiers moved around them, the cheering tapering off into murmured farewells.
“You have a choice,” Mather started, his mouth dry. “I won’t force any of you to go to war. Staying to protect the camp will be just as worthy—”
“Save it.” It was Kiefer who cut him off, and Mather paused, meeting his eyes with a stern glare. If Kiefer had some objection to their plans that would leave him stomping off in a huff, Mather didn’t have the energy to deal with it now.
But Kiefer’s face was soft, almost. “We’re going with you,” he stated.
And that was all. No mention of how their trip to escort the refugees had led to Phil’s death, and how Mather hadn’t been with them for it—no mention of the other times they had been split apart, and the dire consequences of each.
Just unity, now. Unity and obedience, from Kiefer, no less.
“I’m sorry,” Mather heard himself say. Two words that he hadn’t meant to utter, though they had been in his mind ever since he’d seen Phil lead the soldiers into camp. Was it a sign of weakness to apologize to the Thaw like this? William had never once apologized for anything. Whatever it was, those two words rippled in the air, and he closed his eyes.
Silence didn’t stay long before someone slapped him in the face. Hard.
Mather blinked down at Feige, her cheeks flame red and her lips pursed.
“No,” she growled. “None of this is our fault. This isAngra’sfault. All of it.”
Her anger raged up into her eyes, and Mather felt that warning from when he’d first sparred with her. This wasn’t just anger from Phil’s betrayal. This was anger from every moment of living in Angra’s work camp, from all the terrors she had endured under his reign. Phil’s betrayal wassadly, horribly, one more nightmare in a long line of nightmares, all stemming from Angra.
Trace shifted, his fingers tight on the knife hilts sticking out of the holsters on his thighs. He bobbed his head in a quick nod, one echoed by Hollis, Kiefer, and Eli without hesitation.
Hollis stepped closer to his sister. “But let’s agree, now, that the best way for us to get through this is by helping each other.”
“We won’t let each other get so consumed by the Decay that we’re beyond help,” Trace added. “We can bring each other back. The Summerians have been trying to teach people how to resist magic, so I know it’s possible. We’re never alone. No matter what Angra’s magic tries to make us believe.”
They didn’t blame Mather. They didn’t blame Phil. And as Mather looked into their eyes, the sorrow in his heart shredding anew, he saw beyond their own sorrow the same flicker of life that had first endeared them to him. They were fighters, through it all. They were survivors, and they would continue to survive, no matter the tragedies they faced.
“Well?”
Mather jumped. Trace lifted his brow.
“You’re our leader, Once-King,” he said. “Are we together or not?”
Mather hardened his shoulders. He felt their motto now more than he ever had before.
“We will not be defeated,” he whispered. And he meant it.
Three thousand soldiers left the camp, a mix of Autumnians, Yakimians, Summerians, and Winterians.
As Mather marched alongside his Thaw, he couldn’t stop himself from darting studious looks at the people around him. William, straight backed on his horse. Dendera, once again the reluctant warrior Mather remembered, fierce and deadly next to Henn.
And Meira, just as alert as William, just as fierce as Dendera. A heavier weight hung over her now, an even stronger fervor to keep everyone safe. While their massive army made camp each night, she walked the perimeter, almost unaware of how Mather and rotating members of the Thaw trailed her, once again her guards. And only when Mather coaxed her to bed did she go, reluctant until she got inside the tent—then she tumbled into the blankets and fell asleep beside him so fast that he knew she was draining herself, stretching the edges of her magic in some way.
But he just curled around her, his arm across her hip, his face tucked into her hair, and tried to make himself as calm as possible, a place she could go to every night for rest.
The preparation for the coming battle honed everyone’s focuses. Which was why no one said anything about hissleeping arrangements with Meira—out loud, at least. William stared at Mather every night and every morning, and by the time they reached the valley, even William seemed unable to remain cloaked in his usual emotionlessness and stoicism.
Mather understood instantly why Caspar had recommended this site. The foothills of the Klaryns made up the right side, rising into the mountains beyond, while the left side was a hill coated in trees that created the illusion of a gold and orange wave cresting over the grassy plain through the middle. Halfway across the valley the emerald grass ended in such a deliberate break that it could only be caused by magic—the Winterian border of white and snow and evergreens.
This battle would happen on their terms, with no escape in any direction.
Caspar, Ceridwen, and Meira set to work immediately upon reaching the valley. Tents were erected at the westernmost end, effectively claiming the Autumnian side of the battlefield in their favor. Soldiers posed in lines across the grass, fanned out into the trees to start patrols for enemies advancing from the rear, and attempted daring escapades up the steep cliffs to attain more thorough vantage points.
Mather and his Thaw stayed clustered near Meira. She didn’t seem to mind, too consumed by double-checking their plans with Caspar or going over a map with Ceridwen or casting sweeps for trouble. She caught Mather’s eyesduring one such sweep, and he smiled.
