Page 107 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“I will give you this,” the Lord of Frost continued, “in exchange for a sacrifice of equal value.”
“What sacrifice?” Lark asked, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the chamber’s temperature.
“One of your bonds,” he said simply.
The words fell like stones into the perfect silence of the chamber. Lark stared at him, certain she had misheard.
“You want me to break one of my bonds? With White Eye or Nix?”
“Precisely.” The Lord of Frost’s expression remained impassive. “The power to bind the Void Drinker comes at a cost. Winter deals in balance; what is gained must be matched by what is surrendered. You seek to preserve both realms, to maintain the barrier between them while creating controlled gateways. Such preservation requires sacrifice.”
Lark felt as if the floor had dropped away beneath her. The bonds with White Eye and Nix were the core of her being, the source of her dual magic. To break either would be to tear away part of herself.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “These bonds are what make the ritual possible in the first place. Without both, I can’t channel the combined magics needed for the binding.”
“Then perhaps your cause is not as necessary as you claim,” the Lord of Frost suggested, his voice colder still. “If you are unwilling to sacrifice for it.”
Lark struggled to think clearly. There had to be another way, some alternative the Winter sovereign would accept. “What about a temporary suspension?” she offered. “One bond dormant until the ritual is complete, then restored?”
The Lord of Frost considered this, ice crystals forming and dissolving in his beard as he thought. “A half-measure,” he said finally. “Winter does not deal in half-measures.”
“Then take something else from me,” Lark pleaded. “My memories, my years, my future. Anything but the bonds themselves.”
At this, something shifted in the ancient sovereign’s expression. “Your future,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Now that is an interesting proposition.” He studied her with renewed interest. “You offer your remaining time in exchange for Winter’s essence?”
Lark hesitated, uncertain of his meaning but desperate enough to continue. “If that’s what it takes to complete the Vaerdium, yes.”
The Lord of Frost nodded slowly. “Very well. In exchange for Glacium, you will surrender your future in Sataran after the binding ritual is complete. You will remain in the fae realm, serving as guardian of the gateways you create, unable to return to your world permanently.”
The full weight of this sacrifice settled over Lark. Never to return to Sataran. Never to see its skies again, its forests, its people. Never to ride White Eye through open skies or stand beside Venrick as they rebuilt what had been broken.
Yet if she refused, there might be no Sataran to return to at all.
“How long?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.
“Until Winter deems the debt paid,” the Lord of Frost replied. “A century, perhaps. Or a millennium. Time moves differently here, as you’ve noticed.”
A century or more, separated from everything she knew and loved. It was an almost unbearable thought. Yet against the alternative, both realms consumed by the Void Drinker’s hunger, what choice did she have?
Lark took a deep breath. “I accept your terms,” she said formally. “After completing the binding ritual and establishing the gateways between realms, I will remain in the fae realm as guardian until Winter deems my debt paid.”
The Lord of Frost’s expression remained impassive, but something like approval flickered in his ancient eyes. “The oath is accepted.” He held out the Glacium ingot. “Take this, the final essence needed for Vaerdium, and with it the weight of your chosen fate.”
As Lark’s fingers closed around the Glacium, a chill spread through her entire being. Unlike the other essences, which had affected her physically, this seemed to touch her soul, sealing the bargain she had made. She knew, with absolute certainty, that this oath would bind her as surely as any chains.
“The four essences are now yours,” the Lord of Frost declared. “But forging them into true Vaerdium requires a crucible that exists only at the boundary between realms. You must return to Sataran before the Flashover reaches its peak, when the barriers are thinnest but not yet weakened enough for the Void Drinker to tear them down completely.”
“How do I return?” Lark asked, securing the Glacium alongside the other ingots. “The gateway I created collapsed behind me.”
“We will provide passage,” the Lord of Frost said, gesturing to a far corner of the throne room where the ice walls seemed to shimmer and fade. “There, at Winter’s Edge, the veil between realms grows thin as the Flashover approaches. With the four essences in your possession, you can create a temporary passage, just enough to return to where you are most needed.”
Lark bowed deeply. “Thank you, my lord.”
The Lord of Frost inclined his head slightly. “Do not thank me for binding you to a fate you may come to resent. But know this. Winter respects necessity, and your quest has proven itself necessary.” For the first time, his frozen features softened slightly. “We will be watching, dragonrider. The future of both realms turns on what happens next.”
As Lark rejoined her companions at the chamber’s entrance, she found Nix watching her with evident concern.
“What did you promise him?” Nix asked quietly.
