9. Kit Ice and Fire
Kit: Ice and Fire
Kit’s day had ultimately not been successful.
He hadn’t found any sign of the two children, which irked him more than it should have.
And when he’d gotten back to the castle, he’d found it frighteningly silent.
For a moment, he’d worried that Nelle had broken her word to him and run.
He’d called for her, but she hadn’t answered him, so he’d been forced to go from room to room, searching for her.
Now, as he came to one of the final rooms, he couldn’t stop himself from growling. If she broke her promise, I am going to make good on my threat, he promised himself. She can rot in the dungeon until she breaks the spell.
Ahead, voices caught his attention. He frowned. He’d lived in the castle for far longer than he wanted to remember and there had never been voices. What in Afeyra?—
“—sent it here to monitor you. But she didn’t like it much either. You said she kept muttering about how she wouldn’t fall victims to its tricks like her step-mother did.”
Nelle’s voice joined the conversation, and Kit fairly ran toward it as she asked, “What do you?—”
Before she could finish the question, Kit skidded to a stop in front of them, and he couldn’t help but stare. Nelle was there, sitting on the floor, but across from her, there was a small, winged cat. “When did you get here?” he asked, the question tumbling from his mouth before he could stop it.
“Well, that’s a rude question!” the cat scowled. “I’ve been here longer than you have, scale face.”
Nelle’s face went bright red. “Kemma! You can’t say things like that!”
“Why not?” the cat demanded. “I’m not afraid of him. I might not like the taste of lizards, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take a bite of the big, old bully.”
Nelle buried her face in her hands. “He’s not a bully, Kem.”
“And it’s your mistress’s fault I look like this, so if you want to blame someone, you can blame her, cat,” Kit growled.
Kemma hissed at him. “I’m not a cat, I’m a tressym. And if you think I’m blaming Loli?—”
“Kemma!” The ice in Nelle’s voice startled both combatants.
They turned and looked at her, as she continued, “My name is Nelle. Don’t call me Loli.
Or Lolienna. Ever.” As she spoke, frost appeared on the windowpanes of the skinny window on the side of the tower.
At the same time, the smell of chemicals and something rotten invaded the air, overwhelming the smell of honeysuckle that often hung in the air throughout the castle
Kemma yowled. “It’s too cold in here!” Her wings fluttered, propelling her into the air. “I’m getting out of here.”
“No, Kemma, wait—” As she spoke, Nelle reached for the tressym, and, to Kit’s surprise, a spray of ice shot from her fingertips.
The ice hardened into spikes and shot toward Kemma.
Without thinking, Kit leaped forward and pulled her out of range, turning his back to the ice spikes.
They hit his hard scales and shattered harmlessly into a million miniscule fragments.
For a moment, no one spoke or moved. Kemma shook like a leaf in Kit’s arms. At last, she whispered, “How did?—”
“One of the few perks of being a beast,” he growled, shrugging.
He glanced at the shards of ice that were now melting into the stone floor.
He frowned. As the ice melted, so did the rancid smell that had accompanied it.
He took a deep breath, grateful that the scent of honeysuckle was back.
He cocked his head thoughtfully. Interesting.
“What do you mean?” Kemma asked, jerking his thoughts back to th present.
Kit blinked, trying to remember what they’d been talking about.
After a moment, it came to him, and he quickly explained, “After Nelle changed me, I became all but impervious to ice and cold. And most sharp objects can’t pierce my hide.
For that matter, hardly anything can.” Belatedly, he realized he was still clutching the tressym and, with reluctance that surprised him, he released her.
She flapped into the air for a moment before landing on his shoulders.
“Well, thank you,” Kemma said, rubbing her head against his. “I would have been impaled if it weren’t for you.”
Kit was about to assure her that it was nothing when Nelle spoke. “Oh, Maker,” she whispered. Turning back to her, he noted that her face had gone white. “Oh, Maker, what have I done?—”
“It’s fine,” Kit soothed. “I’m not hurt, and neither is Kemma.”
“But you could have been,” Nelle whispered. “I thought you would be safe with me, but I guess it was too much to hope for…”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kit growled. “You’re not a danger to me. At least, not more than any other creature.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Nelle said. “I can’t control it. It just comes bursting out. I already accidentally froze someone. I can’t risk?—”
“I already told you, ice magic has no effect on me,” Kit assured her impatiently. “If you want to kill me, you’re going to have to use another weapon. And frankly, little one, I’m not sure there’s anything you could do that would hurt me.”
Nelle eyed him suspiciously. “You can’t possibly know that.”
“I know it like I know that this one—” Here, he jabbed his thumb toward Kemma, “—is going to be a thorn in my side and I’ll love her for it. The same way I’ve always known that I would protect my brother with my life. Don’t count me out just yet, little one.”
Kemma purred, “He’s right, Nelle. You’ve just met this lug, but I’ve been watching him for ages. He’s a big one, and I still think he might be something of a bully, based on what I saw last night, but you can probably trust him.”
Kit eyed the tressym. “Watching me for ages?” he repeated. He couldn’t remember seeing her around the castle before just now, but the confidence in her statement made him unwilling to question it.
“Yeah. Nelle taught me how to disappear if I needed to. She said it was a useful skill to have,” Kemma told him. She gave him a look that would have been a cheeky smile if she weren’t a cat.
Kit crossed his arms. “I don’t believe it. I would have seen you.”
“You always thank the magic for setting out your meals and cleaning your room, even though you don’t have to because magic doesn’t hear you; it’s not sentient.
And you set the spiders you find outside.
Which is rather rude, if you ask me, since I’m supposed to catch them and eat them, but I suppose you didn’t know that. ”
Kit just stared at her, confused. “Oh…okay. I’ll call you the next time I find a spider.”
“Nah, you don’t have to. I don’t really like the taste. If you find any rats, though, be sure to let me know. I love the taste of rats,” Kemma said. She returned her gaze to Nelle. “But, you see, you can trust him. Even if he is a little grumpy.”
Nelle shook her head. “I can’t take the chance that you’re wrong. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” She looked at her feet.
“You won’t,” Kit assured her. “If I ever think that you’re anywhere close to hurting me, I’ll put a stop to it. I promise.”
Nelle studied his face, searching for something he couldn’t quite name. At last, she nodded. “Very well.” She offered a wobbly smile. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m positive,” Kit assured her. He offered her his hand. “Come. We should go down for dinner. I don’t know about you, but I missed lunch. I’m starving.”
Nelle took his hand, but didn’t look up at him. “I’m not really that hungry. I could just go to bed,” she mumured. At the same moment, her stomach rumbled, belying her words.
Kit arched his brow. “Come now, Nelle. A meal with the beast of this castle won’t kill you.”
Nelle hesitated, then nodded and took his hand.
As her skin touched his scales, a sizzle of something electric passed between them.
Kit couldn’t help but stare at where they came together.
Other than Gretyl, he hadn’t been touched willingly by another creature in so long…
her touch felt like something right in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.
Nelle blushed and used his strength to propel herself to her feet. “Thank you.”
Kit offered something he prayed resembled a smile.
“Of course.” He studied her. She was still far too pale for his liking.
For a second, his mother’s face popped into his mind, her imperious beauty replacing Nelle’s warmth.
Silvery eyes, blank and unseeing, icy pale skin…
it was how she’d looked the day she’d died—no, he’d killed her…
The day he’d discovered her machinations and?—
“Are you alright?” Nelle’s voice washed away the memories.
Kit force a tense smile. “I’m fine. Shall we?
” He tucked her hand into her arm and led her back into the hall.
As always, the torches that lined the walls had lit themselves, lighting the way to the dining room.
Down the hall, he could see a few of the torches which hadn’t illuminated themselves yet go up in flames.
At the same time, the scent of honeysuckle pervaded the hallway again.
Almost as if the smell was connected to the magic…
“What do you like to do in the evenings here?” Nelle asked, pulling him out of his musings.
“Er, sometimes I go for a walk in the gardens. Or, if the weather isn’t agreeable, I’ll find a book in the library,” Kit said. “When I first arrived here, the library and a few of the other rooms were locked tight, but my magic took care of that.”
Nelle stopped and stared at him. “You have magic too?”
If Kit still had skin, he would have bet that his cheeks would have been scarlet. “Er…yes. My mother was a Fey. Both my brother and I inherited a bit of her power.”
Nelle’s eyes widened. “You’re a Fey?”
“Half Fey,” Kit growled. Internally, he winced at his tone. She was just asking a question; she didn’t deserve for him to bite her head off. Unfortunately, memories of his mother always tested his self-control.
Nelle twisted her fingers through her hair, seemingly not paying attention to the words he’d bitten out. “I cursed a Fey. I’m going to die. I should just accept it now,” she murmured, her voice low enough that no human would be able to hear her. “I should?—”
Kit caught her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Hey. You’re not going to die. Not for cursing me, anyway. I don’t use my magic against people. Not anymore.”
Her green eyes bored into him, as if trying to see something that he’d hidden in his mind. “Not anymore?” she repeated.
Kit shivered, once more picturing his mother. “No. Not since I was a child,” he forced himself to say. “It doesn’t end well.”
Nelle tilted her head, staring at him, but didn’t say anything for a moment. When she spoke at last, all she said was, “I see.” Then, she turned to Kemma and asked, “So, are you happy with the dinners you get here?”
“Most of the time,” the tressym chirped. “While you were gone, your magic kept the place going, and, as such, it continued making dinner as well. So I can’t say that you left me hungry. I would like a little more variety, though. A tressym can only enjoy so much tuna.”
The two continued onward, chattering merrily about potiential dishes, leaving Kit alone with the memory of his mother. He shivered. At least she’s gone, he reminded himself. She can’t hurt you, or Robin, or Father anymore. Something inside of him warned him not to count on that.