Daughter of Sun, Bride of Ice Page 14

  When her turn came, she devoured the soup so fast she barely considered the taste for the first several swallows. When she slowed, she found it had a meaty flavor and an unctuous texture, not the best thing she’d ever eaten, but hardly as disgusting as she’d feared it would be.

  As she ate, Kay rummaged through their packs, bringing out a tightly rolled blanket. He unfurled this on the floor then cleared his throat. “Arynne ... do you trust me?”

  The question came so out of nowhere that she nearly dropped her dipper full of soup. Clearing her throat she set the dipper in the cauldron and gazed at him. He brought his eyes to hers.

  Arynne considered the question. With her life? Yes, he’d already proven himself trustworthy in that manner. However, she’d suspected for some time that he was hiding things from her ... so completely, no.

  “In what way?” she asked.

  He motioned towards the blanket. She could now see that it was sewn to form a pocket. “The fire will keep out some of the cold, but there isn’t much wood and we’ll need to conserve fuel. Our ... our best bet to stay warm while we sleep is each other.” His cheeks reddened, so obviously flustered that for a moment she pitied him. “I know you ... you’re the prince’s bride. I would never attempt to violate that, but until we reach safety, our best chance at survival is to lie together so we can share our body heat.”

  Her face and neck warmed. “Oh.”

  He held up his hands. “We can sleep back to back, if that helps. It’s just I know how cold it could get, especially if the fire dies down while we’re out. Also, this moonnotch we have the cave and firewood, but we probably won’t be lucky enough to find shelter like this again along the way, and I can’t carry enough firewood to last us long. This time we might possibly get by without sharing a bedroll, but after this? It’s less likely.”

  She drew a steadying breath. It would be so much easier if it were anyone but Kay, with his roguish smile and disarming good looks. Stoic Ivak, troublesome Soryl, even harmless Wrulf, she would’ve been able to turn her back to them and pretend they were simply a lumpy pillow. Kay? She’d have a hard time forgetting that the warmth she received was coming off an attractive man who she absolutely was not allowed to fall in love with.

  Somehow she managed a calm nod. “I think the prince would rather his bride arrive alive than have her dead but untainted from lying with another.”

  “He would,” Kay said with utmost certainty.

  Belly full and body warm, Arynne suddenly became aware of how tired she was. Her eyelids drooped, and she breathed a great yawn. “Shall we, then?”

  Kay opened up the bedroll and slid inside, his back to her as promised. Arynne let out a long breath, trying to push away any thoughts of Kay as anything more than a heat source, then eased herself beside him, her shoulders pressed into his broad back. The blanket settled over her. He shifted, and she stiffened in response.

  His hand gripped her arm. “Easy,” he whispered. “If I so much as brush up against you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, you have my permission to send a burst of flame into my face and sear off my beard. I’m not going to hurt you, Arynne. I swear. You don’t need to be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid.” ...of that. Shame rippled through her as she realized she trusted Kay far more than she did herself. Focus, Arynne, she chided herself. Remember what you’ve promised Prince Olyn—who Kay himself has said is kind and good and strong and all the things a prince should be. You have that waiting for you. No need to get distracted by a pair of decent shoulders with a saucy mouth attached.

  Maybe she needed a reminder.

  “Can you tell me about Prince Olyn again, Starwarden?” she intentionally used his title, unwilling to speak his name when his body was so close. “I’m still a little scared, and it would be easier to have courage if I knew what’s waiting for me in Frorheim ... do you really think he’ll love me?”

  Kajik cleared his throat. “I believe he will. He tries hard to do the right thing, princess, and the right thing will be to treat you well. Especially if you intend to take the heartbond with him.”

  “What’s the heartbond like?”

  His hand tightened momentarily on her arm before releasing her and returning to his own side of the bedroll. “I don’t have any personal experience, but it’s a magical link that allows two compatible individuals to share magic and lifeforce, as well as feel each other’s emotions.”

  The intimacy of the idea thrilled and terrified Arynne at the same time. To think of sharing that with someone she loved—that could be bliss—but with a stranger? A man who was still only an idea to her? “Does every married couple in Frorheim have that in?”

  “No. Honestly, it’s not common. The magic will only bond those with a special connection. You can’t force it, and some lovers attempt the ceremony only to have the magic not ‘take’ so to speak.”

  Panic surged through her. “And yet I’m expected to have this bond with a man I’ve never met?” Her voice grew shrill.

  “The hope is that since the prophecy requires your bond, the magic will comply. That it’s fate.”

  Arynne’s stomach twisted. “I’m not sure I believe in fate.”

  “I didn’t either until—” He hesitated. “When I came to Solea, with the mission of picking any princess I could find to fulfil the prophecy, it seemed laughable, but then I met you.”

  “Me?” The twisting turned into a tight knot that wrapped itself around all intelligent thought, leaving her at the mercy of his words.

  “Yeah, you.” He laughed. “Arynne, you volunteered to marry a man you’d never met, to undertake a dangerous journey. I had thought we’d never find a princess who would come willingly, but we did. We found you, and you ... you are exactly what Frorheim needs, what Olyn needs, I’d wager, though he doesn’t know it yet. You’re strong, stubborn, and you know who you are. To me, your very existence is a sign that maybe there’s more to prophecy than guessing. That maybe ... maybe certain things are meant to be.” His tone grew somber. “As much as it aches to be the only survivors of what happened out there—as much as I’d give every drop of my blood to get even one of my friends back, I also realize that of all of them, I was the one best suited to save you and to keep you safe until we reach your prince, and maybe that’s fate as well. Maybe I have a purpose in this. Maybe the Ever planned this in some way, led me to a place where I could be here for you when you’d need me the most.”

  That edge of pain crept into his voice again, and something within her opened up to him. She turned over and rested her head between his shoulders, her arms around his waist. He stiffened then relaxed into her embrace.

  “You have so much purpose, Kay,” she whispered. “And I thank the Ever that you’re here with me. I thank him so much.” Arms still about him, she closed her eyes. Cradled by his warmth and the crackle of the fire, she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Arynne slept, she dreamed her magic rose from her body in a haze of red light. It floated about her, warming but not burning, mesmerizing but somehow hollow, longing for a missing piece she could feel the absence of even if she knew not its shape. As she lay, staring at the crimson glow, a silver-white light trickled over her, cooling and calm. It seeped into her bones and filled her with delight. She let out a breath which spangled stars across the sky, and her heart went dancing among them.

  “Arynne!” a voice called to her. “Wake up!”

  Someone shook her, and she sat up with a gasp. The area around her was dark.

  “Easy!” Kay gripped her shoulders. “The fire went out, but we need to get moving. The wind has died down, so it’s a good time to walk. You should eat something first, though.” He turned and stooped over the firepit.

  Arynne sat up and immediately her teeth started to chatter. Her body ached from a combination of cold and sleeping on the hard floor of the cave with only a thin blanket between herself and the stone. The fire had died to a few glowing coals. She tried to
fasten her cloak around her body again, but her fingers couldn’t manage the laces.

  The fire sprang to life as Kay added another log and poked at it to get it going. He then turned back to her. Immediately, worry etched his face.

  “You all right?”

  “I’ll ... be ... fine,” she stammered, not wanting him to think her pathetic.

  “You’re cold. Here.” He sat beside her and began to briskly rub her arms and back. “Get close to the fire. We need to get you warmed up before we leave the cave. Once we’re outside, the walk will keep your blood flowing.”

  The walk? Did he mean the endless hike in the snow and ice, with only the dark sky to keep them company? If a rest spent in a cave, with food and firewood available to them, had left her frozen, stiff, and achy, what would it be like when they didn’t have access to shelter and sustenance? There was no way she’d survive this. She’d been foolish to hope.

  “We’ll never make it,” she whimpered.

  He paused in his massage and leaned closer to her ear. “I believe we will. I was thinking over the road before we fell asleep. If we make good time, there’s a chance we could reach the nearest starshard in a moonnotch.”

  “Starshard?” She swallowed. “That’s like an oasis isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but where an oasis provides shade and water in the desert, a starshard provides light and heat. If we can get to that, we’ll have warmth and safety for another rest—or as long as we need to regain strength for the last leg of the journey.” He stood and crossed to the crates of supplies. “Let’s get you something to eat. I’ve already transferred as many supplies as I felt we could carry into our packs ... not firewood. It’s too heavy and takes up too much room. Also, if we can get to the starshard, it’ll have trees, so we can make a fire there again.”

  Arynne closed her eyes and tried to imagine a great crystal rising through the ice and snow, spreading light and heat ... a thought struck her and she reached beneath her cloak, beneath her close fitting coat, and finally down to her dress with the apron over top and the pocket to said apron. Her hand closed around the tiny fragment of starshard that Kay had given her in the Solean palace, what felt like ages ago. It radiated a gentle heat, not enough to reach her skin through the layers of cloth, but enough that with her gloveless hand she could feel it tingling with magical energy. She smiled. She’d lost so much, but somehow this little starshard brought her hope. If magic and light could survive in Frorheim, so could she.

  After a quick meal of more rehydrated dry-soup as well as some flavorless bread-like rocks that Kay called, “Hardtack,” Kay kicked out their fire and helped her strap on the pack of refreshed supplies.

  “You sure you can carry that?” He raised his expressive eyebrows in a way that half made her want to hit him and half made him even more adorable.

  “In Solea, we have a saying that one should mind his own camels.” She stuck her chin in the air and forced herself to stand straight even though she felt as if the pack were driving her to the ground. A life as a princess had not prepared her for this sort of heavy lifting. If she got to the end of this journey alive, she’d make a point in finding some way to exercise daily.

  While they’d rested, the wind had pushed more snow over the cave entrance, and Kay had to use a shovel he found within the cave to make them a hole big enough to crawl through. He went first then offered Arynne his hand. When he pulled her out into the open air, her breath left her. A brilliant band of color and light crisscrossed the sky like a ribbon dancer’s streamers: blues, greens, violets, and yellows, shimmering and dancing above the pure white snow of the Frorian landscape.

  Kay stood next to her, staring up at it, the colors reflecting off his eyes. “We call it Ever’s Breath. It’s one of the true pure things in this world, always beautiful, a light in the darkness.”

  “It’s ... it’s amazing.” They paused for a moment to strap on their snowshoes before starting along the path, following the road markers.

  In spite of Arynne's fears, the first section of their journey went well. They tramped along, and whenever Kay felt up to it, he’d use his traveler powers to skip them ahead to the next hill top. He taught her how to slide down slopes on her snowshoes by putting one foot ahead, the other behind, leaning forward on her toes, and letting momentum carry her. When she got the hang of it, she found herself laughing like an idiot, smiling until her face hurt.

  They ate on their feet, gnawing on bits of dried meat and hardtack. He showed her how to fill up a canteen with snow and place it within her clothing for her body heat to melt so she could drink it.

  “Wouldn’t it save time just to eat the snow?” She frowned. “It will melt within me to water.”

  “It’ll also lower your body temperature.” He smiled knowingly. “Staying warm is important.”

  As they tramped on through the unending fields of white, Arynne’s legs began to tire and her spirits flag. In response, Kay told tales of his time as a warden, pranks he’d played on his fellows, scraps he’d gotten into. A particular story of how he’d stumbled onto the den of a mother snowbear and had to play dead while her cubs gnawed on his boots for fear of her biting his head off had Arynne laughing until tears ran down her face.

  The road curved beneath an overhanging cliff, casting their path in shadow.

  Kay cleared his throat and drew closer to her. “I don’t like these sections. Too hard to see if there’s something lurking nearby.”

  A chill crept through her. “Something? What sort of something?”

  He gave an unconvincing shrug. “Just general danger. We don’t get many criminals of the human variety in Frorheim. It’s too hard to survive out here for the average man, so highwaymen and bandits are rare. Still there are animals, especially this close to a starshard.”

  “And grimwolves?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about those. It’s been a starcycle since any were sighted this close to the road.” He let out a long breath that fogged before him. “I’m just being ridiculous. We’ll be fine. I shouldn’t have brought it up at all. I just ... normally when we go through these shadowed areas, we wardens bring along starshard lanterns.”

  A thought crossed Arynne’s mind, and she reached into her garments to find the tiny, gleaming crystal he’d given her.

  His eyes widened as the light from the shard fell across his face. “You still have that?”

  Her cheeks warmed though she wasn’t sure why. “Yes, I’ve kept it on me since you gave it to me. It’s not a lot of light, but it’s a little.”

  He smiled. “Sometimes a little light is all it takes to keep you going.”

  They continued on the path accompanied by the small circle of light from the starshard. Their route dipped into a valley, and the temperature around them dropped. Though Arynne’s nose had been cold—and drippy—for most of their journey, the rest of her, swaddled in layers of clothing and with her blood flowing from the long walk, had managed to stay, if not warm, comfortable. Now, the air prickled at the back of her neck sending shivers through her. That she could see nothing outside of their small circle of light further added to her feeling of cold and isolation, and even knowing it would draw warmth from her core, she was tempted to summon a flame to light their way. Instead she drew as close to Kajik as her broad snowshoes allowed.

  The walls of the valley towered above her as slabs of pure black, only a sliver of starry sky providing any sense of space. Ahead she could see the path wind back up a hill into the moonlight, but here, in the trough, she felt like a speck, a single snowflake waiting to be swallowed up into the void.

  A tingle of magic rose around her, and the starshard began to glow stronger, the circle growing. She gasped and almost dropped it.

  “What did that?” She swallowed.

  Kay shrugged, though his eyes held a mischievous glint. “Starshards are unpredictable. A lot of magic in a small package. Got to keep your eyes on them.”

  She narrowed her gaz
e at him but continued to walk. The starshard let out a little heat along with the light, but not so much that she couldn’t bear to hold it.

  “I’m surprised it doesn’t burn my fingers,” she commented. “If starshards are cold light, how do they produce the heat that your society needs to survive?”

  “They’re odd in the way they produce heat.” Kajik clicked his tongue. “I guess you can’t really explain magic, but if I were to attempt it, where a fire’s heat radiates out, being hotter close to the source and weaker at the edge of its reach, starshards seem to evenly distribute their light and heat within a certain radius ... so it spreads out rather than being focused. Though a starcaster can focus it. A good starcaster can pull star energy from the starshards or even the distant stars themselves and concentrate it into a bolt strong enough to use as a weapon or a shield to acts as a barrier.”

  She thought back on what he’d told her. “But only the royal line has starcaster magic, right?”

  “So you were listening.” He smirked.

  “I’m always listening.”

  “Good to know.” He focused on the path before them again. “Yes, the royal line has held the starcaster magic in check by being very particular about how many sons they have. The other magical abilities have spread throughout the populace, though. I wouldn’t call them common, but enough people have magical blood that we’re never short of seers, menders, or travelers.”

  Arynne remembered what Elfrida had said about the sorcerer prince’s promise to bring starcasting to the people. It seemed a fair thing to champion, even if he had proven to be an evil man in the end. And now she would be asked to perpetuate the injustice. She wasn’t sure she liked that. Shuddering, she angled away from him, facing the darkness.

  Something shimmered at the rim of the valley, a shadow crossing over the stars near the horizon. She paused. Another star was obscured but only briefly, as if by a low, fast moving cloud. She grabbed Kay’s arm, pulling him to a halt.