Chapter 26 – Permafrost
Callan
I stood at the edge of a massive expanse of pristine snow, my eyes tracing the white horizon line.
I’d flown for hours with Cassmira over the permafrost. There were two places where I felt like myself, and right now, one of them was occupied with the beautiful human making my thoughts a tangled mess.
I needed the cold to clear my head.
The last time I’d gone for a walk on the permafrost, I’d been attacked.
I touched the scars on my cheek, a permanent reminder of that day almost three months ago.
I should know better. It wasn’t safe for me to travel alone anymore.
Thus, the vicious frost phoenix, who was currently slumped over and looking at me from between her legs.
I stifled a laugh, shaking my head as she straightened, the bitter breeze ruffling her feathers.
“Silly bird brain.”
She squawked warmly in response, her beak open in what might have been her attempt at a smile.
She was like me. These temperatures soothed our souls. Here, I could strip away my armor—the physical and metaphorical—and could let my mind wander back to gorgeous brown eyes if it wanted. Or force it to organize the other thoughts pushed to the back.
The light was waning, and though clouds hid the sun, I could imagine the sunset.
It was reds, oranges, and copper curls I wanted to run my fingers through.
Instead, this view was smooth nothingness and ice.
It was humbling to see this side of the world.
Yet, I knew this was not what the elven realm should be.
I needed to end the winter blight smothering Telrain before our entire world was plunged into bitter cold.
Because, as comfortable as I was in this weather, I was one of the rare few.
Distracted by a snowy white rabbit, Cassmira stalked away, leaving me standing alone, my gaze leveled on the hard line of the Breven Mountains to the North.
They rose tall to the Gods above, majestic pillars of granite covered with snow which hadn't melted in millennia. There was history there that even my ancestors hadn’t been alive to record.
That was where my magic belonged. If there was a way to control it without an outside force—like a suppression gem—that’s where I’d find it.
I needed to correct what nature had mistakenly created.
For now, I had hope for a temporary solution.
Wrenora would be successful with sapphires.
She’d nearly been successful with the amethyst on her first attempt after what she’d confessed had been years.
Perhaps her magic was as powerful as mine, only different.
Peaceful. Calm. Warm like skin beneath hands.
These weren’t the usual traits of a fire mage, which was what perplexed me more than anything.
My father had always told me humans possessed hateful magic, bred only for violence and destruction.
But Wrenora’s magic—like that of other imbuing masters—was so different.
It created and cleansed. It realigned and made whole.
I looked down at my gloved hands before peeling the material from my fingers and tucking them into my pocket. There was hope these hands could touch another again someday.
Hope. Something I’d given up on.
Wrenora helped me hope again.
A breeze pushed my hair from my face, and I closed my eyes to it, letting the memory of the dress my mother had found for her fill my mind. The longing to trace my fingers down her back was almost painful. To feel the heat of her skin soaking through the satin and into the palm of my hands.
The light was fading fast, reminding me how precious time was. Once Wrenora succeeded at imbuing a suppression gem, she would leave. I had paid for her freedom, and I refused to go back on my word. My time with her was fragile and limited.
I glanced around, looking for Cassmira. Twilight was setting in, and we needed to return before Magdala sent the entire battalion of guards after me. I turned to the south, the spires of my Ice Fortress barely visible in the distance.
That’s when I heard it—faint at first, the soft crunch of boots easing onto hard packed snow.
Turning my head to the side to hear better, I tried to pinpoint the direction from which they approached.
Out here, it should have been impossible for someone to sneak up on me.
There was nothing to hide behind. They must have used some kind of cloaking magic.
Cassmira screeched in the distance, and I swallowed hard.
At least this time I wouldn’t be completely unaware.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the crunching of feet.
They were behind me. There were at least three.
I braced my magic at the edge of my consciousness, ready to throw up a shield at the last moment.
I wanted them close—so close they couldn’t dodge my ice—so I marked time with the thumping of my heart in my ears.
They’d stopped, likely waiting in the near twilight for any signs of my frost phoenix.
Cassmira could tear a man to shreds in seconds, but she was still a ways away—likely playing with whatever prey she’d found.
The twang of a bow string was the only warning I had.
I spun in place, solidifying my armor around me, and swung my hands wide, spraying ice shards indiscriminately.
It wasn’t a strong spell, but it was usually effective at doing damage.
One of the cloaked fighters howled in pain as she appeared out of thin air, falling to her knees with an icicle protruding from her chest. The arrow, aimed at my back, bounced harmlessly off my armor as I continued to spin, drawing my sword.
The telltale warbling of cloaking magic shimmered all around me. I’d let myself dwell far too long on errant thoughts. I’d missed their approach. If I’d noticed sooner...
There were times in battle my armor had been breached.
Made from ice, it was easier to shatter than metal plates.
I just needed to avoid crushing weapons.
Easier said than done, as a massive war hammer slammed into my backplate, throwing me forward and into another fighter who was still mostly cloaked.
My blade sank through the flesh of his neck with a satisfying scraping sound as it hit vertebrae on the backside.
I pushed the corpse away as an arrow pinged off my helm.
Spinning, I threw another spray of icicles, missing the remaining four fighters but catching the archer in the distance.
She cried out as her bow fell to her feet.
Without her right hand, it would be very difficult to fire.
A blazing bolt of fire singed my pauldron, melting the ice instantly.
A fucking fire mage?
Fire mages were human. They could only be human. I threw another wave of ice, but it wasn’t as effective. They expected it now, ducking or throwing shields up to block the barrage.
“His flank,” one of them yelled as another sprinted to the side, sliding over the slick surface of the permafrost and using his mace shaped like a massive paw to grip the ground and turn.
I tightened as a flash of fear lanced through me.
I’d seen a weapon like this before when I’d received the scars on my face.
But I’d killed that fighter. I’d frozen him solid and could do it again.
I twisted, throwing a leg wide to catch him off guard and send him down, mace clattering to the ground.
Before I could lunge at him, however, the war hammer was falling toward me again.
I tried to block with my blade, but ice was a tenuous thing.
It shattered, the shards spraying across my armor and reflecting back into the warrior’s face.
He yelled out in frustration and pain as his hammer cracked into my breastplate.
Thankfully, this ice held. I wrapped my fingers around the man’s throat, letting my gauntlet melt away.
Praise the gods I’d taken off my gloves before I’d been ambushed, and when the bare skin of my palm touched his throat, he froze instantly.
I tried to roll out from beneath the solid-ice corpse of the warrior pinning me, his hammer wedged beside me, only for a bolt of fire to slam into the frozen ground on my other side.
Boots framed my head, the sharp point of a sword held to the seam between my helm and breastplate.
I reached for his leg, groping for the hem of his pants and the flesh beneath.
He screamed as his body froze from the ground up, his blade still held to my throat.
The man with the clawed mace crept closer, cautious this time, waiting for the fire mage to join him.
I dropped the handle of my shattered sword and grabbed for the blade pointed at my neck.
Before I could dislodge it from the frozen hand that gripped it, however, the mace-wielding warrior slammed it away, sending the blade skittering across the permafrost.
“Smeeg. Now,” the mace wielder yelled, and the twilight sky lit with a brilliant orange glow.
The fire mage spread his arms wide, throwing a dome of fire over me as the frantic screeches of Cassmira echoed in the distance.
My phoenix was coming.
Thank the Gods, because I was trying to think of some way to dislodge myself from beneath the petrified war hammer wielder and frozen boots.
I flinched back from the heat as the mage tightened the dome down over me.
The two frozen warriors started to melt, the droplets of moisture steaming where they touched my frozen armor.
I took a deep breath. I needed one more attack.
Something they wouldn’t expect that could withstand the heat of the fiery dome long enough to do some damage.
Focusing on the mace wielder, I pulled the cold air from around him and yanked it toward me, drawing snow across the dome, thinning the flames.
I pressed it all into my own shield of ice that looked much like the surface of my armor and held it tight around me.
It immediately started melting, but I needed a moment, building the strength within myself for another attack.
I blasted out, sending the shattered shield through the dome of fire and into the sky.
Then, as it started to lose momentum, I yanked it back down, shaping it as it fell into massive blades, plummeting toward the earth.
The sound of ice piercing the permafrost made me grit my teeth in frustration, until the unmistakable thuds of bodies followed. The fire dissipated into nothingness.
Silence. I lay beneath what remained of the frozen war hammer wielder for several long minutes as I caught my breath.
Cassmira landed beside me with a rush of air, clawing at the icy remains and pulling the frozen man the rest of the way off me. She used her beak to push the other warrior away and free my head before she nuzzled against the side of my helm.
“I’m fine, Cassmira.” But I honestly wasn’t sure I was. My left shoulder was singed where the fire mage had blasted away my pauldron, and my left leg had been sliced open at some point. “Help me up.”
She leaned her head down, and I was able to wrap an arm around her neck and let her drag me to my feet.
Once up, I looked around and found she’d mauled the archer to death.
Other than the two warriors I’d frozen, there was the fire mage—the only human—whose guts were now strung out across the ice.
The man with the claw mace had been stabbed through the top of his head by one of the massive ice blades from my last attack.
Another warrior, who had stood back, looked dreadfully young.
He’d been hit with one of my earlier attacks and lay in a heap, his empty blue eyes staring up at the sky.
I stooped down and retrieved the claw-shaped weapon.
I’d never forget the style—it was so unusual—a mace cut in half with the spikes all on one side, the other rounded and shaped like a massive cat’s paw.
They all wore the same black armor that the fighters in Mariss and those on the road to Dyga had worn, confirming one thing: this was a calculated attack.
Someone was definitely trying to kill me, and since there had been a human this time, I was starting to doubt that it was my father. He would never have hired a human.
He would never have hired assassins who worked with humans.
I grabbed the handle of my blade and slid it back in place at my side as I turned to Cassmira. I checked my leg, noting the blood oozing through my pants. It was clear I was no longer able to take walks on the permafrost anymore, even with a phoenix.
“Let’s go home.”