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At a loss for words, she only nodded, her heart thrumming, sinking.Condolences? She needed to get to her father and Sarennow.
Ulva entered the room, giving her a look of sympathy as she drew open the front door. “Stay safe, Eirah.”
Morozko adjusted his crimson cape before grasping Eirah’s hand a little too tightly, the only telltale sign that something bothered him as he drew them toward the door. “The world will be dark when we arrive, but we need to leave now, little bird.”
“What is happening in Vinti? What did Xezu mean by condolences?” she asked as they stepped outside. Nuka stood at the front in the snow, the saddle already on his back, the breath from his nostrils creating what looked to be a light fog. A small party of frost demons sat atop their stags, alert and ready.
“There’s been an attack,” Morozko said as he helped her mount Nuka, who dutifully laid down and waited. The king climbed up after her, settling in front.
“An attack?” she gasped. “Is everyone all right?”
“This is an answer I truly cannot give you because I, indeed, do not know.” His voice came out softer than usual, perhaps even compassionate. “Now, hold on tight. We’ll be traveling faster than when we rode together last.”
She wrapped her trembling arms around him, tightening her grip, needing something to anchor her down, hold her together, and that was precisely what he was doing at that moment. Nuka took off in a sprint down the mountain with the stags’ pounding hooves behind them.
The cool wind blew against her flesh, yet she was becoming used to not feeling the heavy chill of the breeze, to not have to shiver, to not have her teeth chatter. She couldn’t deny she liked the new advantage, along with how her eyes adjusted to the dark. The foliage around her remained clearer, and she didn’t even need a lantern to see through the night.
A tugging sensation pulled at her, as if magic demanded her to focus toward the sky. Eirah tilted her chin up, her gaze not meeting only the starry night but a white speck that glided downward, closer to them.
Adair. As he inched nearer, his snowy wings were easily recognizable, and a thought rose within her as the force of magic between them grew stronger. She’d heard tales of how frost demons gained a familiar. At birth, later on in life, or even once they inherited their magic. Eirah had magic now, and that possibly meant that Adair was—
Eirah tightened her grip on Morozko and shouted over the wind. “What does it feel like to have a familiar?”
Morozko glanced back at her, a scowl on his face. “I don’t believe this is the time for that sort of discussion.”
“I think it is,” she bit back. “I believe I have one. His name’s Adair, and he’s been around practically my whole life. He’s been visiting me at the palace.”
Morozko laughed coolly. “Is he ashifter? He may require an arrow in the heart.” His tone didn’t make it clear whether that was a jest or not.
“No!” she shouted. “He’s anowl. But I recently started feeling this bond with him, and since I now know what I have is magic, I believe it’s like what I’ve heard in the tales.”
He frowned, then peered up at the sky. “Is that him?”
“If you dare try to hurt him, I’ll hurt you in return,” she seethed.
“Out in the open, with my guards in firing range?” Morozko smirked, then it fell from his lips as fast as it had come. “We will discuss it later. We have more important matters to attend to now.” He turned back around, but every so often, his gaze drifted up to the sky, where Adair continued to follow them toward Vinti.
Eirah tried to think of happier times to keep herself from unraveling. She and Saren when they were younger, playing with dolls in the forest while sipping tea. Then Eirah’s father teaching her how to make her first music box. The thoughts kept her mind at ease, as did the comfort of having Adair above her, and even though she hated to admit it, so did Morozko’s body against hers.
After a little while longer, Vinti came into view. No screams tore through the village as she’d expected, but something far worse. Smoke curled up from inside, and the burning smell invaded her senses when they drew closer.
Morozko tugged on Nuka’s reins and the wolf halted, the other warriors behind mirroring his movements. The king lifted a hand, signaling the warriors to enter the village.
Eirah didn’t wait for Morozko to hop to the ground first—she climbed down Nuka’s shoulder, then leaped the remainder of the way. Before she could bolt toward the village, Morozko grabbed her by the wrist. “You may have magic, but you don’t know how to use it properly. Always,always, protect yourself with a weapon when venturing into the unknown. The threat is gone for now, but it matters not.” He held out his hand and snow lifted from the ground, shaping into a dagger made of ice. “It won’t melt.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as he pressed it into her hand. “How do you know the threat is gone?”
“From my guards.” He released his grip on her. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t return, little bird.”
Eirah didn’t ask any more questions, not when she needed to find her father. As they walked inside the village, the bonfire burned, its flames crackling, even though there wasn’t a celebration or sacrifice—but something far worse. A small crowd of people stood near it, thick fur blankets wrapped around them.
The chieftain broke away from the crowd, his eyes widening as he approached Morozko. “Your Majesty,” he rasped. “We were attacked by creatures. Creatures like we’ve never seen. Where did they come from?”
Creatures? Some sort of creature had done this? Her gaze fell across the snow. Dead bodies lay strewn beside one another. Limbs were severed, others had torn-out chests, and their blood stained the snow in haphazard spatters. It looked as if they’d been set there, and then she knew why as she studied the cottages.
Eirah couldn’t focus on what the chieftain and Morozko were discussing as she continued to peer at the destroyed homes. Most of the doors had been ripped off—on some, the windows were shattered. Smoke wafted from others, embers burning on the remains.
Chest heaving, Eirah surveyed the crowd, searching for her father and Saren. A pit formed in her stomach when she didn’t find them. Not thinking clearly, she took off toward her home, skirting around cottages—several of the windows were lit by candles while the rest were dark with no sign of life.
