Chapter 40 – Neve
NEVE
Iwarmed my hands in front of the fire burning in the library’s hearth. The aroma of roasted meats wafted in from the hallways. Dinner approached, and I greatly craved a hot meal.
For two days now, I had spent many hours in the dusty, old library—one of the rare parts of the castle that had sustained no damage. My sister and I were desperate to know more about the Hallows.
After we formed the Valkyrja, Thyra had experienced firsthand what Sassa’s Blade could do.
As the blade had with me, it whispered to her and then proceeded to sap her of blood to produce a shadow.
She’d only escaped a trip to the healer’s wing because I’d commanded the shadow to stop pestering her for more blood.
To my surprise, the shadow had bowed and vanished.
More shocking, when others tested the blade with their blood, it had not worked for them in the same way. No one called the shadows like my twin and me. No one heard their dark whispers. That confused me more.
It was said that anyone with winter magic should be able to wield the Ice Scepter, and we’d assumed Sassa’s Blade and perhaps the Fr?r Crown too, would be similar.
Vale was not an Aaberg by blood, but he was part Vagle, and that family once ruled a slice of the midlands in Winter’s Realm.
They possessed winter magic, and yet, Vale could not call a single shadow.
As the Riis brothers were a newly raised family in high society, their failure was not a surprise, even if it was an annoyance.
Our time with the Fr?r Crown was not going any better.
My twin took it personally that the Fr?r Crown had spoken to me.
Shown me something too. I’d tried to assure her that the vision was not worth envy, but she only became quiet and returned to her studies.
She searched for a reason to explain the anomaly.
Or a way to coax the diadem into working for her.
So while my twin focused on the Fr?r Crown, I focused on the Ice Scepter. I thought the lost Hallow was more important, particularly with the deep freeze.
Duran, Anna, and Clemencia had also been studying with us, searching for mentions of the Hallows throughout history.
Arie would have been with us too but he’d already left to find his father.
Thyra sent a trio of rebels with Arie, for the purposes of assessing Lord Leyv Riis.
Though I thought it was unnecessary because Lord Riis was trustworthy, the rebels would be helpful if Arie ran into trouble.
“Toss another log on,” Duran called out.
“Is that necessary?” Thyra countered.
Yesterday, she’d voiced concerns about creating more smoke than usual.
The area around the castle was warded, and concealment illusions soared above and around the entire town, but smoke could float outside the wards.
If we weren’t careful in keeping the fires to a minimum, the fires within Valrun Castle could give away the rebellion’s location.
“If you wish for me to stay, then yes, it’s necessary,” Duran said. “My hands are shaking so badly I can barely turn a page.”
As Duran had been the only one of us to find anything of note, I was inclined to use as much wood as possible to keep him warm.
The dwarf had found a short passage stating that one Falk king had claimed the Hallows of the realm wished to be near one another.
How the king had deduced that, I wasn’t sure.
There had been no notable interaction between the Fr?r Crown and Sassa’s Blade, but the fact that there was some information on the Hallows gave us hope.
“I didn’t know that the fae studying at the House of Wisdom were so weak,” Thyra muttered, but waved her hand at the flames, indicating I should throw on another log.
I did so, and the fire caught. Heat wafted into the room, driving out a bit of the cold.
I sat again and stared down at the book I’d chosen. The subject was dry: Weather patterns of Winter’s Realm over the last two centuries.
“Missing those adventure romance novels you love so much?” Clem asked. “Remember the enormous trunk we packed full of them for our trip to Avaldenn? Truly over the top.”
I looked up at her. “I miss them all so much. You?”
She sighed. “Riis Tower didn’t have the best collection. It seems like an age since I read something scintillating.”
“You’ll have to tell Luccan that their library is lacking.”
“Oh, we already did,” Anna laughed. “Arie was appalled that we both prefer romances to the histories.” Her face straightened. “Not that I haven’t been reading the histories. As I told you, Neve, I’m serious about learning more of Winter’s Realm.”
I cut a glance to Thyra, but she didn’t seem to care about our conversation. Thank the Fates. I did not want it to come up that I’d offered Anna an advisorship when the subject of who would sit on the throne was unresolved.
“The selection at the House of Wisdom would disappoint you ladies greatly,” Duran smirked. “There’s much knowledge, a lot of it interesting, but nothing of the sort you’re referring to.”
I had no doubt. I’d been inside the House of Wisdom once and found the place of knowledge gray and drab.
“Count me out,” Anna said. “But I do need to get through this passage before dinner.”
Taking my friend’s example, I pushed aside the yearning for a good story and continued reading about the weather. Where it got cold. How cold and for how long. How much snow had fallen. Few patterns emerged, but shockingly enough, one interesting pattern seemed to persist around Eygin.
I delved deeper into the material and had just discovered another promising passage relating to Eygin, when Thyra groaned, pushed her chair back, and stood.
I exchanged covert glances with Anna and Clem and tried not to laugh. Sometimes, when few people were present, Thyra became very dramatic. Perhaps it made me a bad sister, but her mood swings amused me.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“This is all for naught!” She paced the length of the room. “What if we find the Ice Scepter, and it doesn’t work for either of us? My use of the Blade is weak, and the Crown is a trickster if ever I saw one.”
“That’s a possibility,” I said softly, attempting to calm her, “but we have to try. The Scepter is said to be the one item that can warm the cold.”
Thyra’s cheek puckered. She had a habit of chewing the inside of her cheek when in thought. “Of course you’re right.”
Seeing as she’d already given me an opening, I asked, “I take it the Crown still hasn’t responded?”
Thyra stored the Fr?r Crown in her quarters. I’d not seen it since yesterday, but as Thyra’s mood was foul, I was sure she’d used the Hallow again. Or attempted to anyway.
“Nothing of note.”
So complete silence.
“It’s temperamental,” I hedged, and with a soft sigh added, “I could try it on again and see what it does?”
I’d not worn the Hallow since the day I’d taken it from the Falk vault, though the vision had played over and over in my mind. I did not know what to make of what I’d learned. Nor did I really want to wear the Hallow again. Not unless it made Thyra feel better.
Thyra shook her head. “It doesn’t like me, and Sassa’s Blade—well, I can’t use it. Not without nearly killing myself.” Her face twisted. “I need more time with them,” Thyra added, as though she hated to admit such a thing. “Might I have the Blade for a bit?”
I swallowed. I felt protective of the sword, and although I admired Thyra’s bravery, she pushed the limits in a way that I didn’t care to.
“It’s in the annex,” I said, knowing that it would not do to deny my sister. “I can retrieve it after we finish here. You can use it, and I’ll watch and make sure nothing goes awry.”
Thyra looked like she wanted to tell me to get it now, but she sat back down.
Relieved that was over, I was about to return to the book but caught Duran’s eye. Maybe he, with his scholarly mind could make better sense of my hunch?
“Duran, look at something for me?”
“Of course.” He held out a hand, and I turned the book to him and shoved it across the table.
“Left page, about halfway down. Do you see the temperatures of Eygin?”
Taking no time at all to locate it, Duran’s eyebrows pinched together. “Cold.”
“Very. More so than anywhere else that I’ve found. Even places deeper in the mountains. Any idea why?”
The others were listening now, Clem leaning closer to take in the book, but no one spoke as Duran considered.
“A geological reason? The town is between large mountains and at elevation. The cold might get trapped in the valley between the peaks?”
“Possibly,” I replied, not convinced.
“I can’t say for certain,” he admitted. “This isn’t my area of expertise. I—”
A hard and fast knock came at the door. Thyra’s spine straightened as she rose. Bac was traveling with Arie and my sister had given only Brynhild leave to interrupt us.
However, when Thyra opened the door, Brynhild did not stand before us. Rather, Aleksander, our half-brother who had bonded with the winged symbol of the Falk royal house, stood there.
“Aleksander,” Thyra frowned. “I did not wish to be interrupted.”
“Well, you’ll want to hear this.” He swept inside, not asking to be invited.
The skin-changer’s ice-blue eyes, twins to Thyra’s, locked on me as he held up a scroll that gave off the scent of old leather.
“I sent my Arla out last night. Had a feeling there was something she needed to see, and I was right. I came straight here after I understood the devastation I was seeing.” His voice cracked.
“Devastation?” Thyra asked. “Where?”
“Move the books.”
We did so, and Aleksander rolled out his scroll to reveal an age-spotted vellum map of Winter’s Realm. When his hand veered to the southwest of the map, my eyes widened. And the moment he pointed to a spot tucked into the Red Mist Mountains, my heart plummeted.
“Here. The same place that the king and Lord Lisika stopped in,” Aleksander said. “Arla was flying above and things looked suspiciously quiet, so I told her to look. She did and—by the dead gods—I still cannot believe what she found. An entire town, dead.”
“No,” I whispered. “Are you sure?”
“I had her fly down chimneys into homes. Through the tavern's chimneys too, if she could. Most windows were shuttered, but one or two weren’t and those inside were dead too.” His lips tightened.
“There’s far more to explore, but a hawk cannot get to it all.
From what I saw, though, not a soul survived. ”
A sob wrenched out of my throat, and Thyra turned to me. Her face had gone so pale. “Neve?”
“It’s the same place I was just reading about. We traveled through there days ago. The place is called Eygin and, stars alive, the fae there were kind to us and now they’re dead!”
The smile of the bard who had sung to us came rushing back, and an avalanche of emotion pummeled through me. Had I done this by traveling through there?
“Your presence didn’t bring the monarchy down on them.
Both the king and Lord Lisika left days ago via a nearby mountain tunnel.
We saw no sign of violence in the village at all,” Aleksander replied as if trying to assure me, though his face was grim as he spoke.
“From what I saw, the villagers looked like they’d frozen to death. ”