The Ice Diamond Cuff (Custodian Novel #4) (21 page)

To Faedra's surprise, Rowan took her hand and
bowed low, grazing the back of her knuckles with his lips. "My
lady," he said. "I am so very sorry to hear about the loss of your
father."

Faedra swallowed. Of course, she was his
queen now, and what she knew of Faen's father, he would follow
proper etiquette to the ends of the earth. No amount of telling him
not to would change his attitude. Feeling like a complete fraud,
she waited until he finished and stood up again. As he rose, their
eyes connected. Words failed Faedra at that moment, so she offered
him a smile of thanks for his words of condolence.

Thankfully, Janessa was cut from a different
cloth, one more like Faedra's own as she had since found out. Her
mother-in-law was going to put up with no such etiquette. The lady
threw her arms around her daughter-in-law and drew her into a hug
like only a mother could.

"You poor, poor child," Janessa cooed,
stroking the back of Faedra's head with soothing rhythmic strokes.
It was all Faedra could do to keep the floodgates from opening up.
She closed her eyes tight, bit back the tears. She was a queen now,
there wasn't time for tears.

Faedra pulled back and looked the kindly
woman in the eye. "I'm alright," she said, her voice small and
childlike.

Janessa gave her a look that told Faedra she
believed that about as much as she believed redcaps would do her
laundry.

"Really...I am," Faedra said, infusing a
little more conviction this time.

"Come on," Rowan said, taking charge. "Let us
go inside and partake of some refreshment. It has been a long day,
and we have much yet to discuss and many plans to make."

Faedra felt an arm slide around her back at
the waist. Faen ushered her up the driveway. As the six of them
wandered towards the house, Faedra's gaze was pulled to a large
shadow that loomed with all its unfamiliarity above the grass in
the middle of the yard beside the parking area. She stopped and
turned to face it, tugging her husband to a stop, also. It was the
funeral pyre standing about six feet tall. Logs and branches were
stacked neatly, and upon them lay her father, the king.

She looked up at Faen, eyes glistening. "This
is really happening, isn't it?"

A grave expression flashed across her
husband's face. "Yes, Adkara. It is."

Faedra leaned her head on Faen's shoulder and
took a moment of silence to let the image in front of her sink in.
Then she remembered her father's request and pulled her head back
to look at her husband. "Did you have a chance to see if Vivianna
is okay?"

Faen nodded. "Yes, we did. She is fine, much
to Zaven's annoyance. The wards your father put on her cell have
kept her safe. It seems that not only do they prevent her escape,
they also prevent anyone entering, and that includes any magical or
other worldly powers. Vivianna's cell is the only thing in Azran
that remains unfrozen. She is none too pleased with the situation
as you can imagine, but for the time being, she is safe."

Faedra nodded. "Did she see you?"

"No. Etyran and I decided it would be wiser
to stay invisible. We still do not know whose side she leans toward
and did not want to risk her raising the alarm to gain favors with
the enemy."

Faedra nodded again before resting her head
back on his shoulder.

"Have you eaten today?" Faen asked.

Faedra shook her head against his shoulder.
Her appetite had left her along with her powers, for all she knew,
it had been sucked into the bracelet, too.

Faen steered her around towards the front
door of the cottage. "Come, you must eat something. You need to
keep your strength."

Strength? What strength? Faedra thought.
Zaven might as well have sucked that into the cuff for how useless
she actually felt. She didn't protest, though, and allowed her
husband to escort her back into the cottage. She glanced, one last
time, over his shoulder at her father resting peacefully where he
lay, before turning back and entering the house.

A gaggle of conversation ambushed Faedra’s
ears as soon as they set foot in the living room. She looked
through the open door into the dining room to see people crammed to
bursting around the table. Jocelyn was talking with animated hand
gestures to Etyran, who reached up and stroked her hair, taking a
lock of it in his hand as he looked into her worried eyes. Draconis
was deep in conversation with Rowan at one end of the table. The
vicar, the Messengers, and the two other dragons were all listening
intently as Rowan described what he, Faen, and Etyran had seen as
they scouted about the castle and the city using the two staffs and
the Lightbender's ability to be invisible to the naked eye. Etyran
had obviously given the emerald staff back to its rightful owner,
as it was now resting against the wall behind where Draconis was
sitting. Faedra couldn't see Janessa, but it didn't take a rocket
scientist to figure out where she was. Faedra and Faen took the
couple of steps up into the dining room. From there, she could see
through another open door that led into the kitchen. Faedra smiled
when she saw that Janessa had donned one of her dad's aprons and
was directing the flow of traffic in the kitchen. Her human family,
friends, and Alyssa were bustling about, following Janessa's
instructions without question.

Faedra let go of Faen's hand and left him in
the dining room as she wandered into the kitchen. Desperate to make
herself useful, she asked. "Is there anything I can do to
help?"

Janessa stopped what she was doing and wiped
her floured hands on her apron before walking over to her
daughter-in-law. "I believe we have this all under control, my
love," she said, placing her hands on Faedra's shoulders. "You go
back in the dining room and make sure everyone is seated. We will
start bringing the food in soon. Your family and friends have done
an excellent job putting together a meal for so many people under
such terrible circumstances."

Faedra looked at her father. "Do as Janessa
says," Henry confirmed. "We've got this under control, love. We'll
join you in just a few moments."

"Okay," Faedra said, as she turned and
wandered back towards the dining room. She stood in the doorway,
not really wanting to enter, and watched the conversation
hypnotically.

"How much of Azran is under Zaven's control?"
Draconis asked Faen.

"The castle and Azran City are completely
under siege and surrounded," Faen explained. "All inhabitants are
frozen, although, I do not believe them to be lost. Outside of the
city he has constructed a perimeter of ice. From above, it looks as
if anyone who were to step foot on it would be ensnared and frozen,
making it very difficult to get close to him and take him out. I
would imagine his plan is to freeze Azran piece by piece until he
finds a way to get through to the World of Men."

"The only thing to melt this much ice," Rowan
interjected, "would be the queen's power, but since that is no
longer available to us..." he looked to Draconis, "...are there
enough of your kind to thaw it?"

Draconis steepled his fingers in front of his
mouth and tapped his little fingers together. He looked around the
table at the expectant faces. Faedra held her breath.

"I do not believe so, no," Draconis said
after a long moment of deliberation. Our kind would be good for
one-on-one surprise attacks, but as soon as the element of surprise
was lost, they would be able to overpower us. Our heat only lasts
for so long before we need a period of time to bank the fire, so to
speak."

Groans reverberated around the table, as many
of the occupants rested a forehead in hand.

"Excuse me, darling," Henry said, shuffling
past Faedra with a big dish full of steaming potatoes. Faedra
stepped inside the room to get out of her dad's way.

"That was not the answer I was hoping for,"
Rowan said, a slightly deflated tone to his voice. "If we don't
have enough heat to defeat Zaven's men, and we can't use Faedra's
powers, what else will melt ice?"

Henry leaned in between the vicar and a
Messenger to put the bowl on the table. "Salt melts ice," he said
as if he'd just told them the football results and not potentially
found a solution to liberate Azran from a psychotic Jack Frost.

The occupants of the table looked at Faedra's
dad in stunned disbelief.

Henry straightened and flushed. "It does," he
insisted. "They put it on the roads here in the winter to melt the
ice so it's not too slippery for our cars to drive on."

"Of course," Faedra said. "Dad, you're a
genius!" She walked over to her dad and threw her arms around
him.

"He's right," Faedra addressed the table at
large. "Salt does melt ice. We just need to figure out how we get
enough of it into Azran to melt a whole city."

"And what kind of delivery system we can
employ," Alaris added.

People filtered in from the kitchen and
placed more bowls and plates of food on the dining table before
joining the occupants already there. Voices around the table
started chattering with feverish excitement as everyone started
tucking into the food Faedra's dad and her friends had prepared.
She looked over at him, pride swelling in her heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Faedra pushed her food around her plate with
a fork as ideas were tossed about the table. Even her uncle, and
more surprisingly, her friend Amy, had thrown a couple of
possibilities into the pot. But the same problem kept coming up.
How were they going to get enough salt to melt an army, and what
kind of delivery system could they use? As Faedra churned those
quandaries over in her mind, time must have slipped by, because she
didn't even notice that everyone else had finished eating until Zoe
nudged her on the arm. Faedra looked up at her friend who was
standing to one side of her. Zoe's other hand was holding several
empty plates, and she was leaning in to take Faedra's.

"Oh, Fae. Are you not going to eat anything?"
she asked.

Faedra shook her head. "Not hungry."

"Do you want me to get this out of your way
then?"

"Yes, please do."

Zoe's eyes were full of empathy as she looked
down at Faedra. She offered her friend a smile before picking her
plate off the table and scooting into the kitchen.

Rowan stood, and the room fell into quiet.
The only sound was the chinking of plates and clanking of pans as
someone loaded the dishwasher.

"Your Highness," he addressed Faedra. "If you
are in agreement, I believe it is time we paid our final respects
to your father and give him the funeral he deserves."

Faedra was dreading this moment. Her throat
dried up as she glanced around the table at all the consoling looks
boring deep into her soul. She turned to face Faen, who grabbed her
hand and squeezed it, silently giving her the strength to get
through the next little while. Faedra looked down at the table for
an instant, biting back the tears. Pulling in a deep breath, she
turned to Rowan and nodded.

"Vicar, will you perform the ceremony?" Rowan
asked.

"It will be my honor," the vicar replied.

"Draconis, Ignis," Rowan acknowledged the two
dragons. "I believe you have agreed to light the pyre."

The black and red dragons inclined their
heads.

"Very well, let us proceed."

Everyone stood. One by one they filed out of
the dining room and through the living room to the outside. Faedra,
probably breaking with protocol, waited until it was just her and
her closest friends and family left to exit.

She clung to Faen's hand as though it were a
lifeline. Her dad rubbed her on the shoulder.

"Are you ready to do this, love?"

"I-I think so."

Faen led her towards the door. Her friends
and family close behind. A thought pricked her mind, and she looked
up at Faen. "Do you think the dragons will...?"

Faen looked down at her. After a second, he
comprehended her question and looked over his shoulder at the
humans following them.

"Yes, I believe they will," he said, looking
back to her.

"We better warn them, then," Faedra said.

"I believe that would be a good idea."

Faedra paused. How was she going to explain
that in just a few moments her family and friends would get to
witness a couple of fire breathing dragons in her back yard. She
decided to treat it like a Band-Aid and rip it off quickly.

At least her uncle didn't let any expletives
fly this time. No, instead, he just buried his forehead in his palm
and shook his head. Her dad had seen Draconis in all his fiery
glory at the tournament just recently, so she wasn't concerned
about his reaction. The girls, however. They just looked downright
excited, which was not quite the reaction she was expecting.

They stepped outside and wandered down to the
grass where everyone had gathered around the pyre. The atmosphere
was somber and Faedra noticed Janessa was nestled against her
husband's side, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Rowan had
wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders and was whispering
softly to her. She had never seen him so compassionate before, and
it made her heart melt.

Other couples around the pyre were also
finding solace in each others arms. She joined them by accepting
Faen's comfort.

The vicar stepped forward. After the first
few words left his mouth, Faedra no longer heard what he was
saying. She knew it would be something respectful and fitting for a
king, but her mind was numb. She couldn't take her eyes off the
regal man that lay atop the platform of branches and logs. His
velvet cloak was wrapped around his body, his arms crossed over his
chest. A tear slid down Faedra's cheek; she never even got the
chance to really know him. She felt a sensation on the back of her
hand and looked down. Faen was rubbing his thumb along her skin,
she drew her eyes up and caught him watching her. The last time he
was at a funeral with her, she was six and had buried her face in
his soft fur. She read the emotion in his eyes; she didn't need her
powers to sense that he was thinking exactly the same thing.