Page 127 of A Sword of Ice
That it was for the best.
52
The Invasion of Castle Aileach
Stars bled across the sky, leaving behind streaks of white against an endless expanse of darkness.
“Humans make wishes on those,” Julius supplied, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “They think they’ll come true.” He sounded incredulous.
“Humans are a strange race,” Iona said in an almost lazy tone. “They’ll make wishes on stars like it holds magic, but they’ll kill us for the same thing.”
Julius laughed, the sound loud and throaty. “That’s what I said, too. But not all humans are bad.”
“Oh, I know. Henry wasn’t.” She smiled as she thought of the old man, and her heart ached with the sensation of missing him like she had every day since he’d died.
Julius pulled her close. “Will you tell me about him someday?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Someday.”
Not today. She’d already shared so much, and he realized that right now she felt drained. She didn’t have much left to give, and that was okay.
“And I’ll tell you all about what it was like growing up with the little people of the wood.” His fingers grazed across the sharp jut of her ear, causing her to shiver and burrow deeply both into him and her familiar.
The air had gotten colder in the mountains, and still they hadn’t brought themselves to go inside the castle. Surrounded by dozens of eyes that were spying for the royals had no appeal to her. It was one of those times she felt grateful she hadn’t been born into royalty and had instead been born a fisherman’s daughter.
The courts played games that Iona didn’t want to understand. They were cruel, and there was an obvious lack of love in those circles, the crown merely a competition they were all vying for. It seemed like it could grow old really fast.
No, thanks.
As she buried herself in her thoughts and the warmth of the two she cared about above all others in this place, her thoughts were suddenly scattered as her familiar lifted his head and began to growl.
Julius was instantly alert, his body tensing as he turned in the direction her familiar was growling at. He was staring beyond the copse of frozen trees and in the darkness beyond.
A feeling of unease slithered down her spine like a snake as she stared into the darkness as well, her ears twitching as she fought to catch the slightest sounds that didn’t belong.
But she couldn’t hear anything.
“Strange,” Julius voiced her own thoughts on a perilous whisper. His eyes narrowed, and her familiar kept rumbling.
Then, there in the darkness, Iona caught the glean of something shining.
Like ice.
Like a blade.
Julius pulled her to her feet. She could feel the tension in his body, and he kept one hand against her familiar as if to calm him, and his other hand wrapped tightly against Iona’s.
She was aware of the way he slowly pried his hand away from hers. Of the way his hands went to the sword that was still tethered at his hip. The slide of the blade against the sheath was loud, but not loud enough to be heard above the shrieking wind. It made Iona nervous.
Adrenaline pumped through her blood and pounded through her ears. She willed her magic out to her hand and a sword formed. But as she formed it, there was a dull pulsing rushing through her temples.
She tilted her chin up and sniffed the air. Ice and snow, and something else. Something that felt strongly of magic and metal.
And beneath that, something she recognized and always would until the end of her days.
The wind carried the smoke towards her, and it stung her eyes, making them water.
“Ashwood,” she whispered, dread tightening her gut.
