Fantasy of Frost (The Tainted Accords Book 1) (9 page)

“Rhone, have you ever put an arm back in before?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I giggle and clamp down on it before it gets out of hand again. I think back to the bones Aquin has put back in for Olandon.

“I think you pull the shoulder, and then twist it back into place. It has to be done before it swells. At least that’s what happened with my brother’s shoulder this one time,” I babble. Malir puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me into a lying position.

“Just keep on going if I faint. I’ll see you later.”

Rhone and Malir share a look. What am I saying? The pressure Malir has on my shoulders increases. Rhone looks at me, no apology in his eyes, and grabs my arm. The black spots join together and I welcome them with open arms.

My mother’s and Kedrick’s face swirl together as I fight to the surface. I open my eyes to complete blackness and a throbbing pain in my wrist. I’m in a cave. Someone must have carried me for the rest of the journey. I feel my wrist in the dark. Someone has fashioned a splint for it and my arm is in some kind of a sling. The shoulder is stiff, but not too painful now back in its rightful place. Or maybe the wrist is so bad I cannot feel it. Sleep is over for me.

I take a breath of frigid air and my chest expands. My chest expanded? It is so shocking I forget my wrist for the moment. It feels like the first full breath I have taken since Kedrick’s death. Some of the weight crushing my chest is gone. But why? I take another lungful of cold air. It only takes me a moment to find why I have awoken this way. The whole time while on Oscala I had not really cared if I lived or died, if I fell or got lost. But some part of me had realised I wanted to survive while dangling at the end of a rope with Sole. I shift uncomfortably as I’m swamped with guilt. Am I allowed to feel this way? What would Kedrick think of me if he knew?

The night drags on into morning and I sit in a stupor of pain. I’m so deeply engrossed in my trance, I do not notice as light starts to fill the cave until Malir comes in from outside. Seeing I am awake, he makes his way over, touching the other men on the shoulder to wake them.

“How are you feeling?” he asks in his deep, steady voice.

There are no Solati words for how I currently feel. I turn to my Bruma vocabulary.

“I feel like fucking shit,” I say.

There is a moment where Malir seems shocked, then he throws his head back and roars with laughter. Everyone in the cave is jolted awake at the sound. I jump a little myself, and hiss at the jolt through my wrist. Malir continues laughing, he even adds a slap to the knee.

“What the hell started that?” I hear Sanjay ask. I shrug.

Regaining some control, Malir repeats my answer to the others. The cave explodes into noise as everyone joins in the laughter.

I do not understand what is so funny, but the noise is hurting my head. I feel my way out of the cave, hearing Adnan try to hush them behind me as I do.

I shiver a little in the fresh air and occupy myself by playing with my breath cloud. I touch the cold rocks to moisten my fingers and scrub at my face under my grimy veil.

Feeling present for the first time this morning had prompted a discovery. I felt and probably smelt revolting. There were layers of smoke, sweat and dirt all over me. I wish I could soak in the springs. I put my hands underneath the back of the veil and untangle my hair as best as I can before braiding it again.

They are still chuckling in the aftershocks of their laughter when I re-enter the cave.

“What is so funny?” I demand.

Roman is wiping tears from his eyes. “It is just funny to hear that language from you.”

Sanjay adds, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything even slightly impolite before.” He erupts back into howls of laughter.

I huff. “Kedrick taught them to me and I have been listening to what all of you say. If you don’t want me to say those words, you should not say them yourself.”

“I hope you never stop!” Sanjay bursts out. They all howl again, obviously starved for some hilarity.

I take some food from one of the supply packs and head outside again with a roll of my eyes. I lean back on the cold rock face, taking in the glaring white around me. We are so close to Glacium now. It is nice to see something other than darkness, but I’m lucky the veil protects my eyes. I have seen some of the delegates use the cloth we had for our mouth coverings to cover their own. I don’t know how the others stand it all day, though a part of me wishes I could see the Oscala with my veil off.

The delegates have finally stopped laughing behind me. As an experiment, I try to imagine the words ‘I feel like fucking shit’ coming out of Olandon’s mouth. A surprised laugh bursts from my lips.

Adnan looks over with a smile. Maybe it was a little funny.

My fate on Glacium is now in the forefront of my mind. I cannot guess how King Jovan will react. A Bruma had tried to assassinate me, but had shot their own prince instead. Even if they had not been attempting to start a war by killing me, they had guaranteed one by killing Kedrick on Osolis and had then sealed the two world’s fate by taking me prisoner. I wonder who made the decision to take me captive. I think it had been Malir who had hit me over the head. Was it Malir who killed Kedrick? He would be hard to kill, maybe impossible with my veil on. There is also a twinge of reluctance at the thought of doing it. I realise the King will assume a Solati had done it. The only way to avoid war would be for the Bruma assassin to confess, or for the King to somehow forgive me. Even then, mother might fake offence and start a war anyway.

I return to the cave and find Sole over at my sleeping spot, packing my gear. It is nice of him, I would have struggled to do it.

“I will not forget what you have done,” he whispers to the uneven ground.

Why is he saying it to the floor? He looks back over his shoulder, I follow his gaze to see Blaine watching us. Interesting. Sole quickly secures my pack on top of his own and moves away from me.

We start climbing again. “I can’t believe you jumped off,” Sanjay says, shaking his head and swallowing audibly. “You’re insane.” I nod at him, distracted by my thoughts. Someone hits him.

I try to look at Kedrick’s death from an outside perspective. If I were the King and Olandon had been killed, would I let the only witness live? I let out a slow breath. My odds of survival were very low. The People of Glacium will want retribution and I will serve as convenient justice.

Stopping the disastrous downwards spiral of our worlds seems like an impossible task.

My best strategy lay in presenting my worth to the King, in becoming a bargaining tool to use against my mother. Hopefully the delegates were not aware of just how much my mother loathed me. She had probably been smiling since my disappearance. She would already be training Olandon. I smile as I imagine my brother’s reaction. The smile falters. I hope my brothers and Aquin somehow know I’m alive.

The whole morning I try to glean information from the delegates. All I’m told is that King Jovan will decide. Most of them seem surprised at my questions, probably because I have shown no interest in my fate until now. Maybe they honestly don’t know, but I am guessing they are reluctant to tell me I’m walking to my death.

The day will never end.

My arm throbs with every step and I know I’m not paying enough attention to where I’m placing my feet. I am exhausted and frustrated to be slowing down the group. The men do not complain. Instead they take turns to call breaks we would not usually have. Even the three men who usually ignore me call breaks and ask how I am. Something has changed between us with my jump to save Sole. I remember Kedrick saying worth on Glacium was determined by your actions.

We get to the next cave after darkness has fallen.

Sole lays out my sleeping gear, it must be his way of thanking me for saving his life, but it makes me a little uncomfortable.

“Go to your spot, I will bring you food,” Roman says.

I awaken halfway through the night again. I fell asleep before eating. Rhone eventually comes in from watch. He brings me some food. I try to refuse, my stomach does not feel very steady.

“You need it. Eat now,” he says.

I snatch the food with my good hand. He snorts. My annoyance amuses him.

The others awaken and come to check on me. I suspect Blaine starts to regret he did not, with how the others treat him afterwards. Even Sole does not scramble after him as he tends to do.

“You know, we could’ve lost our hostage yesterday,” Sanjay says with a grin. Rhone cuffs him over the head. But I laugh quietly, now more used to his black humour.

“It would’ve been nice to have more food between us,” Roman says, making me smile again.

We are so close to Glacium now. There is new energy in their movements and loud talk of home. Roman, the eldest and thinnest of the delegates, says he expects to arrive there in another two days.

By mid-day, I’m swaying with exhaustion and fall asleep on Malir’s shoulder during lunch. I wake as he is picking me up to carry me while I sleep. He puts me down at my demand and I continue to walk. It is dangerous enough on Oscala without the added hazard of carrying someone. Being forced to rely on Malir and Rhone to carry me across the obstacles is bad enough.

The next day is no better, I watch the ground in front of me, putting one foot in front of the other. The rocks are so slippery and I’m so focused on my feet, I walk right into Adnan who is stopped in front of me.

“Veni,” I swear, hunching over my wrist and trying to breathe through the pain.

“Sorry, sorry!” he says, fluttering his hands around my wrist uselessly.

Tomi punches him in the shoulder. The Bruma hit each other a lot.

“It is not your fault, I did not see you stop. I was watching my feet,” I say and turn to Malir as he speaks.

“We’re stopping here for the night,” he says. The announcement is met with a loud groan.

“We will reach Glacium by mid-day tomorrow,” he continues.

Where there used to be three defined groups within the delegates, now there are only two. Everyone follows Malir now, except Blaine and Sole, and I have begun to suspect Sole would quickly change sides if he were able.

I apologise to the delegates, knowing we could have reached Glacium today without my injury. Rhone snorts. My nose wrinkles at the disgusting sound. Sanjay tells me to shut up. The others mumble dishonest reassurances about how they do not mind the delay.

I walk over to examine a bunch of pointed ice daggers hanging underneath a protruding ledge at the edge clearing. I touch one and it snaps off and shatters by my foot. I don’t set up my blankets there.

Sole spreads out my sleeping gear and I lay down straight away as has been my habit since breaking my wrist. My hopes of a good sleep are destroyed. I have never been so cold. I almost laugh as I recollect the cold the week before. I am sure it would seem almost warm now. I toss and turn for hours, shivering and teeth chattering, unable to warm myself. I’m in a fitful trance nowhere near sleep, when a body lies down on one side of me. Desperate for warmth, I shuffle towards the heat. Another body moves to my other side. Wedged between the warm bodies, I fall asleep at last.

I reach up to scratch a fluttering disturbance on my veil and encounter something cold and wet. I can hear the delegates are up and eating the morning meal. I sit and feel my mouth drop open at the white flecks falling over the clearing. I reach up my good hand to catch one of the flecks and bring it to my face. It is like a lace flower, but made of ice.

I laugh in delight and stand up to catch more. I push my feet into my boots and experiment, scrunching the white stuff on the ground, taking delight in the sound. I gather up a large handful of it and hold it out to the delegates.

“What is this stuff?” I laugh, watching as flecks gather on top of their shoulders. There are a few chuckles at my reaction.

“It is the frozen tears of sad children,” Sanjay says, turning his head away.

Horrified, I stop, my hands falling to my sides, the substance tumbling from my loosened grip.

The delegates laugh. A grinning Adnan launches at him, pushing him to the ground to stuff some of the white matter into his face. Malir shakes his head at the pair, a smile on his face.

“It’s snow, Tatuma. It falls when the temperature gets very cold,” Roman explains.

I glare at Sanjay, my good hand on my hip. I should have known better than to take his word for it I suppose, after hearing the tales he makes up when talking to Adnan each day.

He raises his hands in surrender, snow all through his bright red hair which stands out like fire on white ash. It is one thing I like about how Bruma look. Solati tend to have brown and black hair, though our eyes are all different colours. Some of the delegates here have yellow hair and some have deep red or a light brown and I find myself wondering what other colours they have.

There are many things Kedrick told me of which I would like to see. If I live long enough to do so.

There is a tension in the air as we walk that day. Everyone walks a little bit faster. There is more swearing, too, though the delegates do not seem angry or upset. My cheeks heat over and over, as Sanjay describes what he is going to do to his wife when he sees her. The other men roar with laughter at his crass comments and add their own. Rhone and Malir are the only delegates who seem to remember I’m there. Neither of them join in, to my heartfelt relief.

By late morning we have finally made it to the last shelf. A rope about ten strides long swings down to the ground below. A group of Guards stand at the bottom waving up to us. A few of the delegates cheer back down at them, but a heavy mood settles over the rest of us as Tomi starts down the rope.

“I forget they don’t know yet,” Adnan says, “that Kedrick is dead.” His thoughts describe my feeling exactly.

The people below us are too happy. How can they not feel Kedrick is gone?

Although it has become slightly easier, after realising Kedrick would want me to be happy, I still feel the wound of Kedrick’s death as though I was the one hit with the arrow. But oblivious to this, Glacium has kept turning. Dread pits in the base of my stomach. How will this world change once they know?

It would be so easy to close my eyes and imagine that two years have passed and I’m part of the peace delegation to Glacium, my companions not Bruma, but Solati. Kedrick waits at the bottom for me.

Rhone approaches with the rope I have become accustomed to since breaking my wrist. Trusting another person with my life is something I instinctively shy away from, but I allow him to hook the rope around my hips, tying me to him.

“Last piggy back, Tatuma,” Sanjay says.

“What an odd term,” I say. “I’m not going to ask you what it means.”

“Well, I know how you Solati hate to ask questions, so I will offer the answer anyway. It’s when someone carries you on their back,” he explains, purposely misunderstanding my comment. I hadn’t believed a word from his mouth since his lie about the snow.

“I’m sure. If so, what is a piggy?” I ask.

I have to hand it to Sanjay, his lie about a pink, four-legged creature is convincing. He even adds a strange sound the animal would make. Rhone snorts as I thank Sanjay for the fantastic story.

I hold onto Rhone as he lowers us down the rope, bringing one massive hand down after the other in a slow rhythm. When we reach the bottom, the new men look at me with curiosity. I look between them and my companions. The guards are well fed. All of the delegates have lost weight on the journey. I have no doubt my state is similar.

The ground is icy here, like the shelves on Oscala have been for the last few days. There are a few trees around. Their leaves are green, not the red-black colour I’m used to, and the bark is brown.

I feel for the arrow end in my pocket, but it’s still in my robes in the pack. The wood here
must
match the end of the shaft. It is a dark brown also. I was right! It was from a Bruma’s arrow.

I look around me in amazement as we walk, ducking as some kind of winged animal flies over my head. The men chuckle at my reaction.

We do not walk around the outside of the world as you would on Osolis. When I ask Roman, he tells me going around the outside would be too dangerous, instead we will walk straight down the middle of the first sector to the centre, and from there we will walk around to the third sector where the King currently resides. The villagers here are not as peaceful.

There must not be any Dromeda to ride. Their ministers must waste a lot of time travelling between sectors. But then I remember Kedrick telling Olandon that the ministers only reported to the King while their area was in the fourth sector.

“Why is Glacium split into six parts?” I ask when we stop for a break. “The weather in your fourth sector cannot spread like our fire does and I have not seen any landmark which splits the sectors into parts like our rivers do,” I explain. There were many snow-covered mountains and icy formations around, but it seemed like they were randomly placed.

A few of the delegates seem confused. Roman answers. “Glacium was not always split into six. It used to be split into four and instead of sectors, we had seasons. My grandmother used to speak of it.”

“Why was it split into four?” I ask, huddling in my coat to stay warm. It’s harder when we stop walking.

“It was based on the weather. Summer was the warmest season, then autumn signalled the cold change. Winter was the coldest season and then spring signalled the coming of the warmth again.”

“Why was it changed?”

Roman shrugs. Tomi answers instead. “The seasons became too large for the four ministers at the time to manage. Crime had escalated and the poor were suffering. So we split up the four sections into six.”

“Why six. Why not eight or ten?”

“We copied your world, I believe. It had been shown to work on Osolis and it split the revolution into six month slots to easily mark the passing of time,” he finishes.

Much to my delight, a layer of white powdery snow covers the ground as we move closer to the middle. I laugh as Adnan works some into a ball and throws it at Rhone, pointing at Sanjay when Rhone turns around glaring. It is nice to see him beat Sanjay at his own game.

Some of the objects we pass I’m able to identify from Kedrick’s descriptions. Though I struggle to understand the layout of their houses. They don’t have dotted villages as we do, the stone houses seem to be arranged in layers, much like our dining ring on Osolis. Large muddy lanes run between the buildings and layers. The housing gets much better as we move towards the centre.

Though I would think it impossible, the cold grows even worse as we draw closer to the third. The wind picks up, stabbing its icy chill through my clothing. I try to hold my veil down with one hand, but it is difficult while slipping and sliding over snowy heaps and icy rivets.

In the next layer of housing we pass, Malir signals for us to wait while he ducks into a building on the lane side. He comes out with a coat made of a soft, hairy material which he throws over my frame.

“Thank you,” I say, snuggling into the warm coat. I tuck my veil under it to free my one hand. It is hard to balance in the snow.

Malir nods. “I remember how hard it was to acclimatize to your world.” He returns to the front of our progression.

“He got you a child’s coat,” Roman says, scratching his long, thin face. “I suppose you’d be too small for female clothing here.”

“I can’t wait to see one of your females. You have all made them sound like giants. I think it cannot be true,” I say.

Adnan laughs from his place in the back of the line. “You can tell us yourself. You’ve passed many of them already.”

I turn my head to him in surprise. I had noticed the children, but everyone else had been the same size. I had assumed the females were inside in this weather.

Adnan laughs. “You know sometimes, although you wear that veil, I could swear I know exactly what your expression is.”

I shrug, turning away at the mention of my veil. It was the first time it had been mentioned since leaving Osolis. Now that I thought of it, it was odd they hadn’t tried to remove it. My eyebrows draw together as we continue our trudging walk. Maybe they would have tried if Blaine had been in charge. I guess they were just used to me with it on after their time in the Solati court. They wouldn’t want to be disrespectful in case the King let me live.

Making a point to survey the passing Bruma more closely, I try to make out the females, but it is hard with the shapelessness of the thick coats and furry head covers everyone wears. I decide the slimmer Bruma must be the females. Kedrick had been serious. My mouth drops open. These woman could be fierce opponents if they wished to be, though I knew the females here did not fight.

Soon, instead of patches here and there, the whole ground is white. We round a large, snow-covered mound and a strange coughing sound startles me. I peer around Rhone’s side at the clearing ahead.

“What on Sol-” I start to say.

There are furry things ahead of us. A massive group of them. I quickly count and there are at least thirty. The coughing sound is coming from them. Rhone heads to the front furry thing and kneels down beside it.

“Quit your barking, Leo,” he demands. The thing sits back and stops coughing. Rhone looks over to the people waiting by a type of wagon with no wheels and they walk up to him with large grins.

“What are they?” I say, awe colouring my voice.

“Dogs,” Roman answers.

A long strap runs from the front of the wagon through the middle of two rows of the dogs. Each dog is then attached to this strap. Malir crunches towards the group.

“The King sent dogs. He must be eager for our arrival,” he says, approaching the three men. I swallow hard at the reminder of my impeding judgement.

The other delegates move forward to the wagon, and after a moment of hesitation, I follow them, keeping one eye on the dogs. Rhone splits us between the three wagons, Malir defers to his judgment. I huddle in the corner of one wagon, holding onto the side with my good arm, my other arm warm in the sling underneath my coat. Adnan, Tomi and Roman join me, cramming into the small space.

I hope this isn’t going to do what I think it is. Rhone steps onto the back of the wagon and it sinks down under his weight.

“Hike!” he yells and I gasp as the dogs lurch and pull. My heart leaps into my mouth as the wagon moves forward. Solis help me.

My hand tightens in a death grip on the side.

“What is this thing?” I shout at Adnan.

“A dog sled,” he shouts back over the coughing dogs.

It takes several moments to convince me I’m not in direct danger. I loosen my grip, and stare around me at the skimming landscape. Soon I’m laughing. This is much better than riding. Snow flies around us and the wind is nearly unbearable, but my excitement overrides the discomfort, I never want it to end. Especially because when it does, it will mean I’ve reached my probable death.

We near the end as the sky begins to darken. The palace of Glacium looms over us as we approach. It is nothing like the palace back home. There are no towers or rounded walls. It is grim and unmoveable. No effort has been made to dress it up.

A trellis grate blocking the entrance is lifted as we approach. Do they expect an attack? A group of four guards wave us through, saluting Malir as we pass. I look back the way we came between Rhone’s legs and hear the thud of the gate as it is lowered again. My mouth dries. Maybe it’s not to keep others out, but to keep prisoners in.

My eyes flick up to the walls and surrounding courtyard. There is no escape from here for someone with only one arm in use. The time to escape had been many weeks ago when I had unfortunately been dumb with grief.

“Whoa!” Rhone calls. It is one of many unusual sounds he has made during our journey.

We slide to a halt at the bottom of several great stone steps. I topple, momentum carrying my stiff body forward. Adnan grabs at me at the last moment to stop my face plant into the wagon. I clamber out with his help, stretching out the stiffness from the long ride. I climb up the steps which have seemingly been made for giants. Sanjay and Roman are at the top heaving on the formidable palace doors.

I step backwards into Sole, as a wave of noise bursts from the building. There is shouting and laughter, accompanied by banging, barking and the smashing of glass. Do they have dogs in there?

We sweep down a massive hallway lit with flaming torches. I startle at the open flame before I recollect where I am. I cannot imagine snow catching on fire. There is the occasional guard and some heavy armour as we move further down the hall, but the rest of it is all grey stone.

Malir stops just before a large archway. It is so big he would be able to walk through it with his hands stretched above his head and still not touch the top. The noise is at a maximum here. The King and his court must be on the other side. Any laughter and fun I had on the sled seems a week ago. Any joy from throwing snow or reaching the end of Oscala is forgotten, as each person in our group is met with the realisation of the news we must now bring to the King.

I feel the weight of their gazes on me. I know they wonder what will happen to me once the King is told. I look up and see worry in Adnan and Sanjay’s frames. I see my mother’s cruel smile reflected on Blaine’s face. But what worries me most and makes my hands shake is the look of regret I see in Malir’s eyes as he stands in front of me.

He takes a deep breath which I echo, and gives a nod to the others.

The men form a group around me. We turn and walk through the archway.