Page 9 of A Sword of Ice
It was alive then as Iona realized what gift Mana was giving her in this creature. What they recognized as they stared into one another’s eyes. A bond as important as magic itself, of companionship and respect.
Familiar.
Iona had found her familiar.
6
The WANTED of Illyk
Weeks passed by in which Iona fell into a blissful work routine, spending most of her time with her newfound familiar. Due to the new, rare animal, the zoo found itself filled with a plethora of unknown faces from surrounding cities. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse at a polar bear. A creature who could very well have been the last of his kind.
Even though her familiar thrived under the attention and the income he brought to the zoo gained him favor in Petey’s eyes—which meant buckets of fresh fish—Iona could still see the sadness in his expression. She supposed she understood. It didn’t matter how many buckets of food she hauled in, how cold his water was, or how popular he became. A cage was still a cage, sometimes with different bars.
At least they had each other, and soon they’d both be free. Those words had become a part of Iona’s daily prayer every night as she cleaned out his space and set the low temperature for his pool. She would whisper them to him like a promise. And every time she did, his dark eyes would widen, and his tongue would dart out to slide against her cheek, and there was comfort in that. Comfort in each other.
Iona would fall asleep every night for the next three weeks feeling content and at ease.
But sometimes happiness was as fleeting as the whispers of summer in Teg.
That morning, Iona emerged into the hallway, prepared to leave for work, when she first saw the changes in the building, heard the whispers that made her stop.
The hall was filled with neighbors, some she’d only seen in passing or heard through the thin, crumbling walls. They were staring at those walls now. Not the rotting, molding wood, but at the long sheets of parchment spread over it.
Iona stopped andstared,memorizing the harsh, slashing lines of the painted faces of Illyk’s most wanted. Different faces stared back at her, of humans and Fae alike, each with their crimes branded beneath their cutting features. Fae sympathizers. Fae criminals. Fae magic wielders.
Iona tapped her fingers against her thighs as she took in the images before her. A skilled hand had obviously done these images, and she could feel the very hatred behind each brush stroke like it breathed life to the characters. Whoever had painted these had turned the Fae into monsters. Monsters she knew they probablyweren’t.Gifted with long canines and malevolent glares only because of their race, not because they really were.
Except one.
Among the wanted of Illyk, in the sea of monstrous Fae faces, a single one stood out. Simply because she was different, not painted to look like a horror from nightmares or old stories, but like a regular, beautiful Fae.
The female was depicted with long, flowing hair, soft features, and cutting, intense eyes. Beneath her face were the words,WANTED: Alive and Intact.
A shiver worked its way over Iona’s body.
“When did they come put these up?” someone whispered.
“I didn’t hear them. It must have been last night.”
“I heard marching on the streets.”
“I heard they’re bringing reinforcements to Porir.”
Iona jerked away, trying to drown out the sounds of their worry, but when she turned, she came face to face with Belinda.
The last time Iona had seen the green-skinned Fae had been weeks ago. The memory of seeing her on her knees, taking what the soldier forced, made her skin go cold all over. That night seemed burned in the depths of Belinda’s pale green eyes, chased away by something else. Fear. It permeated from her pores, and her fingers fiddled with the hem of her coat, twisting the material.
“Iona,” she breathed, a quiver of uncertainty in her voice. “You’re friends with Rey.”
Friends was a very loose term. Iona didn’t really have a surplus of friends in Porir but acquaintances, people who owed her favors. Belinda didn’t need to know that.
“Yeah…”
“I—I didn’t let him in last night. He was sitting out here in the hall. If they’re right and soldiers came in to put up the signs, they would have seen him and—” She broke off, pressing her palm to her lips as if she could hold back the sob that already pushed its way past.
Dread curled low in Iona’s belly.
She didn’t want to believe that anything bad had happened to Rey. If the soldiers got him, she would have heard it, right? It had been just outside her door. Surely she would have heard a struggle.
