The lance thrower, p.17
The Nine Births of Carnage (Cross Academy Book 3), page 17
Mountains of ice carved into the terrain glimmered like diamonds beneath the frosted sun. The ground was covered in sheets of snow that seemed to muffle the noise of the city below, everything Seduce could hear held the sound of cotton in his ears. As if listening through a blanket. The crunch of snow boots on the cold ground, the whinny of winter horses as they dragged sleds of children through the Plaza. Pillars of ice jutted up around the Fortress, holding great structures and forming columns of inner-city homes.
Seduce watched the bustle of the morning travelers in silent brooding. Traders holding up massive frozen fish, shouting sales to passerby. Farrons with their flowing white hair, walking the ice roads and reinforcing the weeping walls which melted under the sun. Women gathered children bundled in coats and mittens, men sharpened knives and spears, preparing for a hunt beyond the gates.
The North was exactly as the prince had left it. Organized chaos. A slow, icy death. The cold was coming for all of them, waiting just beyond the gates. Tamed for the moment. Seduce had always warned that the North was too complacent, more excited to brag about surviving their momentary storms rather than outlasting the 700-year war around them.
They hadn’t ever cared about the Great Demon War because it’d barely had any significant impact on them. The Dreadful were more common than demons up North, though some would argue they were certainly demonic in nature.
Regardless. The North had fallen into a false sense of peace because of their convenient location. Their frozen isolation. But with the stirring of Light and Dark, the War was sure to make it this far soon. Sooner than Seduce would like.
He sighed again, earning the king’s attention as he huddled by the fire in his room. “You’re displeased,” his adoptive father said.
The prince rolled his eyes. “Of course I am. Vyanna hates me.”
“Is that really such a surprise?”
“It’s been years.” He glowered. “How could she still hold so much anger toward me?”
“Because the last time she saw you, you were a womanizing mongrel.”
“I had a reputation. I won’t deny that.”
“You still do.” The king turned to give him a condescending look, the aged lines of his face tugging downward. He was still tall, still looked strong in all his robes and wrappings. But Seduce could see how much the garments weighed him down, how heavy the crown looked on his head. He was a skinny little man beneath his clothes. Getting older, colder, and sicker by the day.
The prince glanced away, hating that this was how his father would look forever. Even after death, his frozen body encased in ice and on display. He would always be skinny. Always look sick.
“My reputation isn’t so bad anymore,” Seduce muttered.
King Valarion laughed. “I had to send windsoars out to fetch you. And do you know what they told me when they returned?”
He did, and he steeled himself for the lecture he’d known was coming since he walked back through the gates of the Fortress.
“You were holed up in some hovel of a swamp with mermen and vagabonds.” The king frowned into the flames of his hearth. “Traveling the world. Behaving as a pirate. And chasing tail.”
“Are you finished?” Seduce asked in a carefully controlled voice.
His father ignored his attitude. “Chasing fairy tail, at that!”
“Pixie tail,” he corrected. “And I haven’t slept with her.”
King Valarion looked at him darkly. “She’s been in your private quarters since you arrived. Hasn’t left at all.”
“Because she’s afraid,” Seduce replied, thinking of Geneva and how her awe of the North had quickly turned to panic when King Valarion ordered that she be arrested and tossed out of the Fortress. They hadn’t even stood before the king five full minutes before he’d set his anger loose on the poor little pixie. Seduce hadn’t even had time to explain that she wasn’t his paramour. He never got to share that it was because of Geneva that they’d even made it to the royal port.
After losing their supplies in their battle with the ice-oct, Seduce and his men had to stop at a nearby island to restock. But they’d had no money and nothing to trade with—except an endless supply of pixie dust.
Geneva had handed over a dozen jars full of gold dust to the merchants of that island, buying them supplies, food, water, and even new weapons without issue or complaint. She had singlehandedly saved the crew of The Crowned Peasant. In exchange, she’d been arrested by the king’s men and called a number of unkind names and slurs.
Seduce hadn’t been surprised.
The king had a habit of getting rid of Seduce’s friends. Tenta and his brothers had never been allowed inside the palace, and A’Dohna had almost been killed by the guards when she’d tried to enter with Seduce. Most often, the prince told his crew to remain at sea whenever he returned home, considering he was never home for long.
When he’d arrived at the Ice Fortress, he didn’t think Geneva’s presence would stir up trouble, especially since she’d saved the prince by providing trade for their supplies. But Seduce had been wrong. King Valarion had always chased his unsuitable friends away, but he had a particular dislike toward the prince’s lady friends.
Probably an attempt to keep me on the path of righteousness, the prince almost laughed. His chance at salvation had slipped away long ago. Or maybe he’d never had one.
Born to a man who’d paid for a night with his mother, raised to be the main attraction of a pleasure house. Had there ever been a chance for him to become anything other than what he was?
The king hobbled over to his chair, letting out a painful hiss as he sat. “Why does everything have to be made of ice?” he groaned.
Seduce extended his hand and the ice beneath his father’s bum puffed into a pile of soft snow. Valarion’s tired eyes shot open at the sudden change, and he laughed as he glanced down at the fluffy powder.
He wiggled his butt. “That’s more comfortable.”
“You’re welcome,” Seduce said.
The king sighed heavily. “Vyanna has had a long journey. She was snatched from her home and told to relocate all the way up here. The North has never had a Queen rule in her own right, but Vy came ready and willing to take on the job. Now she has learned that not only will she not be taking the throne alone, but she will also be marrying a man she hasn’t seen in years and has never been fond of from the start.”
“It also doesn’t help that we were raised as cousins,” Seduce muttered.
The king laughed. “Well, whatever you were raised as, you aren’t actually cousins. So put that out of your mind.”
“I’m not the one fighting against this.”
“She’s just a girl.”
“No, she isn’t.” Seduce stepped down from the window, the heels of his ice boots clacked against the frozen floor. He stared at his father, seeing his resemblance to Vyanna for the first time. In their evenly toned brown skin, in their stark white hair flowing down to their hips. Vyanna kept hers in locks while the king let his thick curls remain free, tumbling down his back like clouds rolling over a great mountain. They had the same nose and the same sharp green eyes. But that was where the resemblance ended.
Where Valarion was masculine and regal, Vyanna was feminine and dainty. Slender legs and a shapely form, full lips and a maturity that went beyond her seventeen years.
Seduce’s eyes narrowed, thinking of how she’d looked in the dim lighting of her chambers. Her dress flowing around her, white hair swishing with every movement. And when Seduce had stepped closer to her, she’d sucked in a gasp and then let it out slowly, her breath making little clouds in her cold room.
“She’s not a little girl at all,” the prince said more to himself than the king.
Valarion gazed at him. “Do you want to marry her?”
“I want to rule beside her.”
“But do you want to marry her?” King Valarion raised his white eyebrows. It was such a small gesture, but it seemed to take all his strength. For the first time, Seduce wondered if his hair was white by God or white by age.
He grunted. “I’ve never thought about getting married until now. I can’t say Vyanna is a poor match. She just hates me.”
“Well, that’s an easy fix.”
“Nothing is easy with that woman.”
Valarion snorted, then winced like it hurt. “Am I hearing this correctly? Is there actually a woman on this earth immune to Seduce Iceman’s charm?”
The prince couldn’t help but chuckle. “Careful, old man.”
“Don’t try to charm her,” Valarion said. “Earn her trust the old-fashioned way.”
Seduce thought a moment. “Has she spoken to you about this?”
“Almost all night.” Valarion waved a hand. “I understand her ire. I do. She was promised the throne first, but things have changed. Not just because of the blunder of miscommunication, I’m talking about the Spiritual Realm. Demonic forces.”
“The balance of Light and Dark,” the prince said softly.
“Yes,” his father agreed. “The North needs a leader. A king and a queen. But you two need the North as much as it needs you. And you need each other.”
Seduce pressed his lips together. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” his father said. “You aren’t ready to be king any more than she is ready to be queen. But I believe your leadership won’t be so shabby if you tackle the task together.”
The prince remained silent, unable to argue with his father’s logic. He had made that same argument the night before when Vyanna told him she would never share the throne. Now he knew how she had felt as she’d glared at him. It did sound ridiculous coming from someone else.
Too hopeful. Too dreamlike.
Ruling the North wouldn’t be as easy as tackling the task. And it wouldn’t matter whether they did it together or alone. The War was on its way. Darkness inched closer to the gates with each passing day. And it would not wait for Vyanna and Seduce to get along.
Still… Getting along would help.
“How did your conversation go last night?” Seduce asked.
King Valarion exhaled slowly. “She yelled and cried and demanded that I honor the original arrangement.”
“And?”
“And I told her what I just told you. The North needs a queen and king.”
Seduce harrumphed. “I suppose it does.”
“Ahh…” the king leaned back in his chair, stretched his feet toward the fire. “Add another log, will you?”
Seduce complied, carefully moving the dry wood into the flames. He was covered in sweat and dizzy by the time he finished. Weakened by the heat. He couldn’t imagine how Valarion found any pleasure from the flames, but he’d heard that was what happened when a seadancer fell ill. They slowly lost their immunity to the cold and then succumbed to weakness, dying often in their sleep.
It had been years since the Crownless Prince had seen the old man in person. Years taken for granted. Years where he had convinced himself that his father was invincible. That he would always be around.
Now, Seduce wondered if the king would make it through the week.
The prince swallowed thickly, watching his father rest. “I—I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.
King Valarion peeled his heavy lids back, a wistful look on his face, despite his pain. “Oh, I’ve missed you too, son.”
16
Fox Fire
Fox Fire sighed into her fish stew. It was piping hot and smelled of salt, seaweed, and fresh rosemary. The food of the North was good—great, actually. But Fox didn’t have an appetite.
Dart nudged her with his elbow. “If you don’t eat up, it’ll get cold. Fast.”
He was right. All the food and drinks were served in ice bowls and frozen cups. As hot as the soup was, Fox had minutes to enjoy it before it cooled down. Glancing around, it seemed most Northerners liked their food at chilled temperatures. They also liked raw fish and preferred to boil what they cooked—if they cooked it at all. The night before, Fox had crab and sea urchin simmered in salt water and served with nothing but seaweed and fresh leeks. She ate the crab, sniffed at the urchin, and sucked on the seaweed until it thawed. Like a veggie icicle.
“You’re gonna whittle away if you don’t eat,” Dart told her.
Fox frowned. “I can skip a meal or two.”
The sound of Dart’s snort echoed through the grand dining hall. He still walked around as part-animal. This time he was a wild bunty bear, something he’d seen only up there in the North. It left him with floppy rabbit-like ears and covered in patches of thick black fur. All the hair protected him from the cold, making Fox jealous. The Farrons and Ools walked around in nothing but short sleeves and strapless gowns while the Academy team remained bundled in furs and cloaks.
All the ice and snow were beautiful to look at, especially at night when the moonlight poured in through the windows and the stars danced off the sparkling walls. But it was just so cold. Everywhere. All the time. Even with the fireplaces lit, Fox felt the heat inside her being sapped away. Like the North itself was her personal enemy.
Dart nudged her again. “You cannot afford to skip a meal.”
“What are you trying to say?”
He pressed his lips together, floppy ears twitching like he was suddenly shy. Fox noticed the way his eyes quickly skated down her frame and then snapped away. She blinked, unsure if she was seeing things at first, but the red tint was right there on his brown cheeks, clear as day. Dart was blushing.
He cleared his throat. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”
“How would you know?” Fox teased him.
He reddened further, then clutched his bowl and nearly yelled, “You’ve ridden me a dozen times! I know how much you weigh!”
Toad snickered, seated across from them at the same table. “You had Fox Fire ride you a dozen times.” He winked. “That’s hot.”
Fox rolled her eyes but whatever reply she had ready was cut off by Toad’s yelp as his twin sister pinched him hard. He stared at her with a wounded look. “That hurt!”
Ren gave him an impossibly bored face. “You were being crude.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Dart grumbled. “I meant—as an animal. Like a horseback ride!”
“We know what you meant,” Ren said. “My brother is just an idiot.”
Fox sighed.
“Anyway,” Dart cleared his throat, “you’re skinnier than before. You need to eat.”
Before Fox could say anything more, Dart grabbed his bowl and shoved his chair back. He slipped on the ice as he stomped away, ignoring Toad’s teasing laughter behind him. Fox watched him go, frowning as he found a seat beside Syren.
She waited for jealousy to kick in. To feel upset that her friend had left to enjoy someone else’s company, but nothing like that ever flowed into her mind. Syren and Dart had been together on this mission more than anyone else. They were the only two scouts. The only two who shared the ability to fly. All those hours together in the sky had to have left them with some sort of connection. Unless Syren was still caught up in her grief over Slaine being the Red Face and Kressa Lion being the Eighth Birth of Carnage.
They had been her two best friends at the Academy, Slaine from childhood and Kressa a new friend at the Training Grounds. Fox could remember the three of them huddled together during exercises, could remember how exclusive their little group seemed. Like the world around them didn’t matter at all. As long as they had each other, they would be fine. They would be happy. Whole.
And then everything had fallen apart when Slaine’s true identity came out, shortly followed by Kressa’s. Syren had been drifting away since then. Some of the staff suspected she wasn’t as innocent as she claimed. Some of the students avoided her simply because she’d been friends with Slaine. Fox included.
Guilt wracked her like a storm as she watched Dart say something which made Syren laugh. She’s been alone all this time, Fox stared into her soup. If there had been anyone at the Academy who knew how Syren felt, it was the lone sundancer.
She had been ostracized by the other students during her time in training. Had been cast aside because she couldn’t use her blessing very well and because she’d been friends with KI and Kohl. Two outcasts. Her own mistreatment should have been the catalyst to launch a new friendship with Syren, but the thought hadn’t even crossed Fox’s mind. She’d been too caught up with her own troubles. Her own grief.
She still was.
With a sigh, Fox pushed from the table and scanned the dining hall for a familiar face. The King of the North had been generous in providing rooms and food and clothing for the Academy team. Fox walked across the frozen hall in boots equipped with spikes on the bottom to help her grip the icy floor, a fur-lined skirt brushed against her knees with thick leggings underneath, tucked into her shoes. A parka was draped over her shoulders, and as she walked, she pulled a pair of mittens from her deep pockets and slipped them onto her numb hands.
Kohlannis sat in the far corner by himself. He’d been avoiding everyone since Kressa’s betrayal in Avanté Village, but it seemed he made it a point to specifically stay away from Fox after his blunder with the massive gorillas. Lieutenant Diaz had called on him to summon shadows during the fight and his only response had been to cower and admit that he couldn’t do it.
Dark words haunted Fox as she took a seat beside her friend. Spiritually fractured… That was what Kohl had told her. That his Light energy had been disrupted, blocked, as if he were stony and unskilled. Like she had been before she could sundance.
Kohl pushed his cold bowl away when he noticed Fox Fire.
“You need to eat,” she said, suddenly feeling like Dart. She snorted. “Dart told me I’m skinnier than usual now.”
He raised a single blonde eyebrow. “Are you trying to say I’m getting skinny too?”
He didn’t look skinny at all. Despite the fact that they’d been hungry and cold for weeks, Kohl looked the same as he always had. Strong and tall and lean, like he could destroy demons with his fists. Or his attitude. Fox wasn’t sure which was more lethal.
