King Torsuld was Soren’s father. He’s the heir to the Raven’s Landing throne. What must this mean for him? Like me, he never knew his real father and to find out that he was a king must be overwhelming. He must be torn between the man he believed was his dad—the bearman and Torsuld’s battle arm—and the legacy of the golden king.
I spot the horn, discarded on the snowy ground. I wiggle my fingers and toes, bringing the blood back to them.
Just as I’m about to make a run for the horn, something shiny glints on the ground. A loose dukh, a piece of armor? No, it must be the stone from the crown. Without another thought, I skitter toward it, but a boot kicks it in the opposite direction. I pivot and go the other way. It crunches in the snow beneath another boot—this one belonging to a member of the Rising. “No,” I shout. But my cry is lost to the grunts and shouts of fighting.
I lose track of the stone and start to dig through the snow when I spot it sail into the air, arcing like a rainbow. I follow its path but before I see where it lands, my attention halts on the sight in the sky.
A silver bird, a golden raven, and a black raven battle fiercely above. There’s pecking, gnashing, and piercing cries.
Red hot power radiates from Leith, aimed at the other two. No!
A guard rushes my way as my frost power flashes from me, aimed carelessly and blowing holes in stone walls and hedges.
Maybe the reason my instructors at the Police Academy thought I was so enthusiastic—or dangerous, depending on who was asked—was actually because my fae power was bursting to come out.
The ground fighting continues as the ravens do battle in the air. The loud kraas sound violently from above. Feathers rain down along with the snow as father and son avenge the false silver king.
Once more, I scan the ground for the stone. Instead, I find a discarded sword and slash my way through the masses.
The birds above continue to do battle then all at once, Soren lands beside me, turning back into a man. He swoops a sword from the ground and takes a swing at the thief of thrones and shadows.
His eyes shine when he sees me and he smiles briefly as he dodges an arrow. “Leith shifted back from that bird form,” Soren says. “He’s not a shifter though. Must be some spell.”
“He said he’s immortal. What do we do?” I ask.
“Nice to see that you’re not frozen,” he says, planting a quick kiss on my lips as he turns to ward off a guard. “And I like your hair.”
“My hair?” I grip a few strands. It’s white. Must’ve been an effect of the Frosted Oblivion.
“To answer your questions, there are all kinds of immortals. Vampires, some shifters...” He trails off as another guard attacks.
“What about a fae immortal?”
“No such thing,” Soren replies, breathing heavily.
“That’s a relief, considering I wouldn’t want to live forever,” I mutter though I don’t want to die right now either. “Seems like a terrible existence. I’m going to see if I can get the stone from him. You go for the crown. It’s yours after all.”
Soren smirks.
We both go headlong into fighting, targeting Leith whose firepower seems to be amplified by the gemstone. He must’ve been using it to shift into the bird and whatever I was scavenging for in the snow was a regular rock.
I use all my training from the Police Academy before they moved me to the Peace Force, but apply it to my fae power. I blast fiercely from all directions. Leith manages to avoid most of the blows. Then I shift gears to a focused assault, moving like a karate master—Mr. Miyagi style. I’m still not successful at getting the stone, but Leith fails at a block and I land my frosty fae power on his shoulder, thigh, and by his waist. “Take that, loser,” I yell.
He must draw on some reserves of strength and power the rest of us regular people don’t have because even some of his guards have turned against him and yet he fights them all off with ease.
His eyebrow lifts in his inked skin and he blasts me with flame practically burning my eyelashes.
“No way, dude.” I decide to pull out the big guns—superhero moves from the movies. Lucky for me, I can fly. I summon my wings and take to the air, doing flips and aerial moves as I pluck off guards from above. At the same time, a loud kraa sounds from overhead followed by the beating of many wings. Hundreds of ravens flood the sky, blotting out the snow. They came at the call from the horn, at the arrival of their rightful king.
In the lead, the golden raven divebombs Leith, its black eyes fixed on its target.
Over the din, I hear a little plink. Something fell onto the cobblestone beneath the snow.
The raven went after something shiny...knocking the stone from Leith’s hand.
I scramble toward the ground, searching for it.
Soren sweeps past me, lunging for Leith. I don’t know whether to protect him from the firepower with my ice magic or search for the stone. I hesitate as the two engage in hand to hand combat.
I find the stone in the snow and just as I’m about to grab it, a boot lowers onto my fingers.
“Not so fast,” Leith says.
Two thoughts flash in my mind. One, he doesn’t take aim with his firepower, confirming he must need the stone to amplify it. Two, I am fast. I take aim with my other hand and blast him with the full force of my frost, distracting him long enough to grasp the gemstone.
He
