Page 3 of Omen of ice
I shift in the saddle and nod to the rest of the trees, all just as vibrant and alive as the hilpberry. “How is this possible?” A gust of wind blows, and I shiver. The trees should all be dormant in this kind of weather. “It’s almost like you still have—”
“Magic?” Wella supplies. She doesn’t smile as much as bare her teeth. “We do.”
I nearly fall off my horse. “What?”
“That’s not totally accurate.” Kopic glares at her. “There are trace amounts of druid power still left in the land. From the war, and…” He points beyond the gate, to a statue of a Fae man and a human woman, both kneeling in front of each other. “There. That’s where your priestess presented Lord Servis with the magic to win the war. It was on that same spot, nearly twelve years later, he tried to return it. When they were attacked and the vessel shattered, it bled the power into the grounds, imbuing the land.”
“Come,” Wella says with the smallest hint of irritation. I get the feeling she doesn’t like me for some reason. It’s fine. She doesn’t have to. “The Winter Lord is waiting.”
She nudges her steed, and away they go, bounding down the lane toward the estate and leaving me to gawk at her words. “TheWinter Lord? My charge is the Winter Lord?”
Kopic cocks his head to the side and studies me for a moment. “Not the Winter Lord, exactly, but a member of the royal family. Did you not know?”
“I was only given a few details about my new partner and told he was a member of the court. Have you been acting as his guard?”
“No. I’ve been the emissary for the Lady Liani for the last twenty years.” He offers a slight bow from the back of his horse, then gestures toward the estate.
“Twenty years?” Even though I try not to gawk, I know I’m staring. He doesn’t look a day over that. Glittering eyes, snow-white hair—he’s beautiful. Just like every other Fae.
“I’m much older than I look.” He smiles. “Excuse Wella’s disposition. She’s…an acquired taste. You’ll be taking her place as Valen’s guard.”
“Valen.” The name rolls comfortably off my tongue. “He’s my new charge?”
“Yes. He’s Lord Orbik’s only nephew. The Winter Lord has no heir, so I suppose Valen is technically next in line—not that Orbik has any plans of abdicating.”
“I look forward to meeting him. He must be very special.”
“Not really.” He looks back and forth, then leans in a bit closer. “He’s actually kind of a pain in the ass.” Kopic points to the hilpberry tree. “You’re welcome to sample it if you’d like. They’re one of my personal favorites.”
Memories of the sweet fruit tempt me. Popping berries by the handful as a child, sucking on them until they exploded in my mouth. Unparalleled sweetness followed by a small burst of bitterness. I remember the tartness of the seed splitting against my tongue like it was just yesterday.
When a Fae offers you something, it’s considered deeply disrespectful to decline. I’m not hungry, but the last thing I want to do is insult anyone so early into my assignment. “I appreciate it. Thank you.” I pluck several berries from the tree and pop them into my mouth.
Kopic does the same. His eyes roll back into his head, and he lets out a moan. “Delicious, aren’t they?”
“My memory doesn’t do them justice.” I straighten and gather my reins, unable to wait any longer. The berries are a nice surprise, but I’m dying to meet Valen. Plus, I’m freezing. Frostbite isn’t exactly how I want to start my time in the Winter Court. “Shall we continue?”
With a nod, Kopic spurs his horse forward, and we canter down the path. When we reach the grand gateway, there are two hulking guards stationed on either end. Their armor is sleeveless, offering no protection from the harsh wind and cold. I’m jealous. I’ve heard the cold doesn’t bother Winter Fae. Me? I stopped feeling my fingers and toes a day ago.
We ride through the gate and around the back of the estate, to a massive brick-faced stable. Like the pathway leading to the house, it’s surrounded by flowering plants despite the harsh winter conditions. Large blooms in varying shades of blue and purple hang from vines that grow up the side of the building. The roof, covered in slightly frosted moss, comes to a high point, then drops low to overhang a small receiving area, where two stable maids, both in riding leathers, wait.
“This…this is all residual magic from the tear?”
Kopic smiles. “I’ve heard druid magic was truly a wonderous thing. It rivaled our own in fortitude. Some Fae were envious of it. Even with the destruction of the tear, it remained in the land, unlike our own power, which ebbed from all things.”
It seems like such a far distance from the destruction site for residual magic to still be affecting the land. But maybe there’s still a bit of Fae power left. Maybe, like the Aphelians’, it partners with the druid power to create this small miracle.
“Did you journey well?” the shorter of the two stable maids asks as Kopic pulls his horse to a stop and dismounts. She brushes a stray cerulean lock from her face and smiles as she positions herself close, eyes greedily soaking up every inch of his impressive form.
“I did,” is Kopic’s response. He seems oblivious to her attention as he extends a hand to help me from my horse. “Is Valen on the grounds?”
The other maid shakes her head. She’s taller than the first, with well-toned arms and deep red hair gathered in a severe ponytail. “He’s with Buri. Lord Orbik intends to present the Aphelian to him this evening, at the festivities.”
Kopic groans. “They still haven’t told him?”
Both stable maids shake their heads.
“Wait…” I hold up my hand, sure I’m misunderstanding. “Are you saying Valen doesn’t know he’s been assigned an Aphelian guard?” Getting assigned an Aphelian isn’t something generally kept a secret. It’s an honor worth bragging about because there aren’t many of us anymore. Why haven’t they told him?
