Free Frost Like Night by Sara Raasch Page B

Meira’s chakram— damn it, damn it —the Ventrallan knife, and—
    â€œNow this is a surprise.” Angra took Cordell’s conduit from the soldier who found it. He glanced at Theron. “Yours, I believe.”
    Theron released Phil, shoving him to the ground. He took the conduit from Angra, the purple jewel on the hilt hazy in his palm. Mather, still held like a man bowing tohis king, twitched in defiance when Theron bent to his level.
    â€œI think this will be far more useful in your hands. I no longer have need of it.” Theron pressed the tip of the blade to Mather’s cheek, though not forcefully enough to break skin.
    Mather jerked again, but the soldiers kept him pinned. Theron’s threat didn’t make sense—he’d let Mather keep the conduit, the dagger ?
    Theron twisted the blade. Blood trickled in a warm bead down Mather’s face, and he imagined it draining the hatred out of him, releasing it to pool at Theron’s feet.
    A smile, and Theron pulled the blade away to lean still closer, angling his mouth to Mather’s ear.
    â€œAnd every time you see it, I want you to think of her with me. I want you to know that when I win this war, I will do so without this weak magic. And when this ends, and Meira is mine, there won’t have been a damn thing you could have done to stop me.”
    Mather snapped his head into Theron’s temple. The Cordellan king bellowed, but when he regained himself, he made to lunge again, the conduit’s blade raised high.
    Angra interceded with a touch on his arm. “That’s enough. We can use him.”
    Mather snarled. Theron looked just as infuriated, but he pulled back, watching Angra.
    â€œThat was my mistake last time,” Angra told Theron,but the pitch of his voice made it clear that his words were meant to be as much a dagger in Mather’s flesh as Theron’s conduit. “I let weak rulers live even though I had the key to power greater than anything they could fathom. This time, I will strike until only those are left who will bring about a new, awakened world. And these boys will help me force the Winter queen to pick a side—especially him.”
    Mather panted. “There’s nothing you can do that will make me help you.”
    Angra, still facing Theron, smiled. Then he looked down at Mather.
    â€œAnd what makes you think I was talking about you?”
    Understanding shattered what restraint Mather had left.
    His eyes moved to Phil.
    â€œNo,” Mather wheezed, then a shout, “Don’t touch him!”
    Phil’s face broke. He scrambled back, trying to stand, but Angra’s men descended on him first.
    Mather wrenched against the soldiers, managing to get onto one foot so he propelled forward. But the men tackled him flat on the ground, and the wagon’s wheels were all he could see, his arms bent against his spine.
    He couldn’t do anything when Phil started screaming.

7
Ceridwen
    THE QUEEN OF Yakim had bought them from Raelyn’s men.
    The Ventrallan soldiers left them in a rush, and though Giselle had given her and Lekan a way out of Raelyn’s clutches, the Yakimian queen never did anything without a calculated reason. As Ceridwen planted herself on the darkening street in Rintiero’s south quarter, she folded her arms and glared at Giselle, who silently mounted her horse and arranged her heavy wool skirts around the saddle.
    A distant yet powerful wail echoed down the street. Panic flared in Ceridwen’s muscles. A warning siren? A call to arms?
    She was intimately familiar with the everyday sounds of Rintiero, music and laughter and happy conversation so different from Juli’s raucous bellowing. The siren called her attention to the way the noises of the city soundedsuddenly . . . different. It was night, yes, but even at the latest hours, songs played from the music guild. The only things she could hear now were distant shouting, metal