Chapter 16 Neve
I banish everyone from my room to prepare mentally for this evening alone, when Ban suddenly appears. Usually, he drops in from the shadows but keeps his distance, giving me a chance to collect myself before I’m forced to acknowledge him.
This time, he appears almost on top of me, making me drop the candle I’m holding. It lands on the icy floor and is immediately extinguished, but oil spills out from the base of the holder.
“What the–”
Ban silences me by pressing a hand to my mouth, getting right in my face. “Argue later. Right now, you need to trust me.”
I try to retort but my voice is muffled by his palm. He doesn’t release his hold, and I clamp my hand over his wrist. If he wants to be that damn difficult, I’ll give him a bit of icy frostbite, and he can complain about that after he gets his hands off me.
Before I can do that, he does something truly horrifying. He puts his hand near my elbow, on the arm that I’m attempting to use to ice his wrist, and drags me into the shadows.
I know I’m in the shadows, because one moment we’re staring at each other, and the next there’s a bit of a haze everywhere.
None of it makes sense. Not at all.
Ban releases my mouth, and I’m so surprised by the sudden change that I don’t even ice his wrist like I planned to. Instead, I open my mouth to scream at him.
Nothing comes out. Not a sound, not words, nothing. I try several times while he keeps his hand on my arm, giving me a bored look while terror washes over me.
He expects me to trust him and then does something like this?
I try to pull out of his grip, but damn, he’s strong when he wants to be. I think if I can get out of his grasp, I can get out of this, and when I have my voice back, I’m going to scream at him.
Ban shifts backward, and a weird, weightless feeling washes over me. We somehow move from the middle of my bedroom to the hallway outside, still tucked into the shadows.
This is so not how to get me to trust him. I struggle in his hold but he just doubles down, glaring at me as we move. I decide to try my magic anyway to get him to let me go, and much to my dismay, ice doesn’t seem to work in the shadows.
I’m going to have to fight to get out of this.
He’s annoyingly unbothered by my attempt to battle him, one arm wrapped tight around my middle so I’m pressed against him.
Every time we shift through the darkness, there’s a split second when everything becomes a blur. When we move, he seems to be able to change my position, keeping me close, so it’s hard to fight him.
I hate the shadows. He is more than welcome to stop dragging me into them. When we get out of the darkness, and I have my ice back, he’s in for a world of hurt.
As we move, I realize he’s taking me down the halls. I’m surprised that we seem to just be walking; I’m pretty sure we could move faster if Ban tried.
Up ahead, a group is quickly moving into one of the rooms. There are guards I don’t recall, dressed in green, before two guards wearing the Frostlands royal uniform, station themselves outside the door.
For a single moment, I worry that the worst has happened, that other kingdoms believe the Frostlands are weak due to my return, and that we’re being invaded. Ban, however, doesn’t give me time to fret. One moment, we’re in the hall, the next, we’re in the room.
Ban’s shadow magic is dizzying, but there’s no time to think about it past getting my bearings as he flattens himself against the far wall, pulling me into him so I have a full view of the room and its occupants.
Mother and her two creepy Icebound servants are the first people I see, followed by a man I don't recognize. His skin looks as if it’s been kissed by the sun, his hair dark and curly, dressed in robes of deep green.
And then there’s the woman in red spinning around the room, laughing maniacally to herself, looking absolutely nuts.
Are they the royal guests Mother mentioned to me?
“I did everything you said,” Mother begins, watching the whirling devil in red. “It didn’t work. The magic must be too weak. The sand no longer has the same effects.”
Sand? The only times I’ve heard much about sand is in reference to the Sandman, since there’s very little sand up here.
The woman stops spinning around, and my heart lurches at the sight.
I don’t know how, but she looks remarkably like Lady Hartsell, Mother’s old friend.
If this is truly her, she’s much older than her appearance suggests.
Her hair is long, dark, and shiny, while her skin is smooth and wrinkle-free.
When she flashes Mother a smile, the gems on her teeth startle me. “My magic betrayed you, Sned?”
Mother swallows, her face paling. It’s kind of impressive given how pale she is to begin with. “No. No, of course not. But the spell is old, and so was the sand. How else do you explain what’s happened?”
Lady Hartsell, or I suppose, she’s the Queen now? The Queen of Hearts? The man sitting with her is definitely not the King of Diamonds, and more questions burn in my mind the longer we stand here.
Without warning, she reaches beneath her skirt and throws a blade toward my mother. It sails through the air, slamming into the wall just behind Mother’s head. I try to gasp, but the shadows don’t allow any sound.
My struggle with Ban returns. I can’t allow someone to kill my mother, even if I know there’s some big secret she’s keeping from me.
She lifts a trembling hand, touching her ear. Red blossoms across her skin before she touches the spot. Gasping, she keeps her eyes on Hartsell. “Davina, y-you–”
“Don’t blame me!” she seethes, all that mischief in her face long gone. There’s untamed rage in its place, the sudden shift a surprise. “I didn’t tell you to mess up the spell, I didn’t! You are a poor killer, Sned. A bad killer, a bad mother, a bad wife. Bad, bad, bad!”
Why is she speaking like that? When I last saw Hartsell, she spoke like a lady.
Better, probably, because everything she said was measured and controlled, like she was always thinking ahead.
I would say I’m wrong, that this isn’t Lady Hartsell, or the Queen of Hearts, or whoever I’m thinking of.
It could be a crazy relative, except Mother called her Davina.
That was Hartsell’s first name. I doubt an ancestor would have the same.
“Davina,” the man says, eyeing the two of them. “We still have a ball to attend. The show must go on. Do not leave marks you can’t explain.”
Sighing dramatically, Hartsell presses her hands to her hips and tilts her head to one side.
It goes too far, looking uncomfortable as her ear nearly presses against her shoulder.
That can’t be normal. “You let something slip, Sned, my girl. If you kept up with the magic, you wouldn’t be in this mess. ”
Mother thins her lips. My struggles with Ban have lessened, too; the conversation holding too much of my attention. “Perhaps it’s the sand?”
“Sand doesn’t do everything,” Davina says darkly, her eyes narrowing. “Into the soul, the body will be full.”
Oh, riddles. How I’m so, so sick of riddles.
“I did that!” Mother hisses. “I went to see Neve once a quarter as discussed! I always brought the sand. I went to see her the morning she woke up. I don’t know why she’s alive and with us now.”
At first, I don’t process Mother’s words. They sound so cold, so… unlike what I’m expecting to hear, that I simply don’t accept it.
It almost sounds like Mother doesn’t want me to be awake. To be alive. Like she was responsible for my frozen sleep all along. I’ve had suspicions about someone in the palace putting a spell on me, but she was never on my list.
It can’t be. She couldn’t hurt me. My own mother?
Ban’s arm squeezes around my stomach, and I don’t know if he’s trying to comfort me or hold me back. Right now, both might be necessary.
“It puts a bit of a hitch into the plan. Yes, it does,” Hartsell says, and the fact that Mother’s unsurprised by her words hits me right in the gut. “How are you going to keep your magic going without a vessel, Sned, my dear?”
There’s mockery in her voice, and I try to focus on Mother to gauge her response. My magic and Mother’s have always been different. They aren’t tied together. I can’t do anything with snow, now or in the past. And I haven’t seen my mother do anything with ice.
Maybe we just need to be similar.
“It will be handled,” Mother hisses, her back going straight. Nearby, Kael and Nyra straighten too, copying her. “If you are still up for this.”
“Oh, we came to attend a ball!” Hartsell cries, grinning wildly. She throws her hands up, spinning once more. “And a ball there will be. Capture the moment, Sned. We’re never going to let the people forget it.”
Mother nods, bowing her head, and when she turns to give the man the same regard, dread nearly overpowers me.
Hartsell… the Queen of Hearts, she’s the visiting royal. This isn’t just a show of respect; Mothers dipped so deeply into her bow her head is parallel to the floor.
I say the words in the shadows, even if there’s no voice to them. Is she showing them loyalty?
“Come Lance,” the Queen says, bobbing her head toward the door. “I need to look my best for the kingdom. What do you think, more red? Red, red, red!”
If Lance finds her way of speaking strange, he doesn’t comment, rising from the chair. There’s an expressionless look on his face. Whatever he is thinking, he’s good at masking it.
As the two royals take their leave, we do, too. This time, when Ban moves us into the shadows again, he travels faster. Not toward my room but away. I don’t fight him, going limp in his grasp as we move to outside of the palace, then beyond.
I should care that he’s dragging me away when there’s supposed to be a ball tonight, but all the fight is gone from me. Too many things happened in that room, and none of them made any sense. Mother is… I don’t know who she is anymore.
When we are some distance from the palace, Ban lets us out of the shadows. It reminds me a little of where we had our first fight with our winter powers, but I know we aren’t as far away as we were then.
The shadows fall, and so do I. He doesn’t force me to stand anymore, sinking into the ground with me.