Ashes of a Black Frost

Visyna couldn’t believe their luck. Would it really be this easy? Kritton barked more orders and the elves and their prisoners began to move. In this weather it would be easy for one of the soldiers to slip away into the night unseen, but where would they run? With no shelter from the storm they would freeze to death out here. She looked at the huddled group of soldiers and realized none of them would be running anywhere. Zwitty, Scolly, and Inkermon were keeping each other upright in a swaying, stumbling fashion. Chayii walked with one hand firmly gripping Jir’s mane. The elf stopped and started to swoon, then caught herself and stood up straight.

“Hrem, I must help Chayii. If she collapses, her hold on Jir will, too, and he’ll attack. Keep the others together.”

Hrem nodded and slid over to steady the trio while Visyna matched her pace with Chayii and casually slipped her arm around her waist. The elf was shaking.

“You must keep your hands free to weave, my child,” Chayii said, turning to look at her. Chayii’s face was gray and her lips were turning blue.

“You’re turning to ice,” Visyna said, gripping the elf more tightly and hoping to get some warmth into her.

“Jir is becoming increasingly difficult to hold, and the weather is not helping. I don’t think I can make it to the fort.”

No. Visyna looked around to make sure no elves were close. “I think I felt Konowa up there. I’m certain I sensed him. We just have to make it inside and we’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”

“My son is there?”

Visyna squeezed her waist. “You just have to hold on a bit longer.”

At these words Chayii stood up a little straighter. Jir looked up at them and purred, his ears pointing straight up and his muzzle to the wind, sniffing the air. Could he sense Konowa, too, she wondered? A moment later the bengar’s purr turned into a snarl.

Visyna took her hand from Chayii’s waist and sought out the threads again. There were more, hundreds more.

“Rakkes!”

“Where?” Chayii asked, coming to a halt. The elves around them heard her shout and stopped, too. Kritton was there in a flash, eyes boring in on her.

“I warned you, witch,” he said, raising the butt of his musket in preparation to strike her.

Before it could fall, the shrieking cry of a rakke sounded off in the distance. It was answered at once by dozens more. The sound grew to a fury far outstripping the storm. Kritton lowered his musket.

“Back to the tunnel. We need to go back there, now!”

“It’s too late for that,” Hrem said, walking up to place himself between the elf and Visyna. “Didn’t you hear those things? They’re behind us, too. Our only chance now is to make it to the fort. The rakkes will never get us in there.”

Mention of the fort snapped Kritton’s head around to look at the rocky hill. Visyna noticed the elves were watching the storm now and paying no attention to the rest of them.

One of the elves said something to Kritton in elvish and pointed toward the fort, but Kritton shook his head. “The plan was to meet at the foot of the path leading up to the main gate. The dwarf Griz Jahrfel will be there.”

“Kritton, if Griz Jahrfel is anywhere around here, he and the rest of his band of thieves are probably rakke meat by now,” Hrem said. “Listen to them. We have to get to the fort.”

Kritton raised his musket as if to fire. “You forget who’s in charge here! We will not go back in that fort!” Kritton shouted.

By now all the elves had formed a small square facing outward. This was exactly the chance Visyna had been looking for, but now that there were rakkes nearby she wasn’t certain if she should take it. She believed in her heart that Konowa was in that fort, and wanted nothing more than for him to charge out with the regiment to save them, but she already knew that was impossible. A regiment can’t move that fast, and it would be suicide to bring them out of the security of the fort.

She made up her mind.

While Hrem and Kritton continued to argue she moved over to stand in front of Zwitty, Scolly, and Inkermon. She turned to them as if offering them aid.

“Tell me if Kritton comes this way,” she said.

“What are you up to?” Zwitty asked, his weaselly face a scowl of suspicion.

“Saving your lives,” she said.

Ignoring the threads of life around her, Visyna focused instead on the weather. She closed her eyes and focused her attention skyward, picking out a single snowflake fluttering in the air several hundred feet up. Using it as her focal point, she began to draw more flakes to it, hoping to create a microstorm that would blind Kritton and the elves long enough to cover their escape.

Instead of massing together into a billowing pile, however, the flakes melted and froze together, forming a spinning chunk of ice. She grimaced, feeling the sting of the Shadow Monarch’s taint in the storm. Her dexterity was hampered by the pain. The more she wove the larger the ice grew. It was already man-sized and growing faster as it fell. The horror of what she had set in motion dawned on her. This wasn’t going to be a blinding storm, it was a single chunk of solid metallic ice.

She saw Kritton’s life force clearly in the storm. It was bound in the Shadow Monarch’s oath and pulsing with a black energy. It troubled her that it was so similar to that of Konowa’s, but unlike Konowa, she knew Kritton wasn’t going to change. There was more than just the oath staining Kritton’s energy. His rage and his need for revenge was consuming him, making him as toxic as the rakkes around them.

Visyna turned and opened her eyes. Kritton was still yelling at Hrem, but he paused in mid-sentence and looked at her. He saw her hands and his eyes grew wide.

He knows.

Kritton began to bring his musket up to his shoulder again. He was going to fire. Time stood still. Visyna knew what she had to do, but unlike the beetle in the tunnel, this would be no accident. She lowered her hands, removing the last of her hold on the falling ice. It occurred to her then she had the power in her to divert the ice so that it wouldn’t fall directly on Kritton, but she didn’t. A part of her was screaming that this was wrong, and that there would truly be no turning back, but her survival and that of the group meant more.

She made a choice.

There was a rush of air, a blur, and then a spray of red mist as the ice slammed into Kritton’s skull. The ice didn’t shatter then, but carried on to pulverize Kritton’s body into a four-foot-deep crater in the frozen desert floor.

Visyna cried out. The violence of Kritton’s death shocked her. Blood, snow, and ice exploded in every direction. A chunk of ice struck Visyna in the stomach, knocking her backward into the three soldiers, sending all four of them tumbling to the snow.

Visyna gasped for breath, her arms and legs twitching as she tried to regain control of her senses. A hand appeared out of the dark. She reached for it, yelping as the frost fire singed her bare flesh. Hrem hauled her upright then quickly let go. Scolly, Zwitty, and Inkermon staggered to their feet. Jir padded into view with Chayii still gripping his mane.

“That was one hell of an ace you had tucked up your sleeve,” Hrem said. There was a fierce grin of satisfaction on his face that Visyna couldn’t share. He held up his other hand. Yimt’s drukar was clenched in his fist. Did he want to give it to her as a war prize? She’d just murdered another living being. She knew she had done it for all the right reasons, but it still didn’t change the fact of what she had done. She shook her head and turned away.

A musket fired. Everyone ducked, but the shot had been aimed away from them. Rakkes yowled. A rock sailed overhead. The elves were all turned to face outward. More muskets fired.

“The rakkes are closing in,” Hrem shouted. “We have to try for the fort. Can you do more of that weather stuff?”

Visyna was still reeling. It wasn’t remorse, but more shock that she had deliberately taken another life. She tried to probe her feelings further, wanting to feel something beyond disbelief, but her mind was too full of images