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“Over here!” Eirah called, waving him over as she strained to hold the lion’s shape.
Just as Qorlys reached the changeling, Eirah lost hold of her magic, the snow of the lion collapsing to the ground. Qorlys didn’t hesitate and shoved a blade clean through the changeling’s stomach, blue blood blooming to the surface. As Qorlys pinned the creature in place with his weapon, another frost guard brought down his torch to the demon’s waxy flesh. The flames licked away the loose skin while the changeling screeched an awful sound that pierced Eirah’s ears and made her grit her teeth. The acrid odor of sulfur and decay it gave off invaded her nose. She held back expelling her stomach.
Two more changelings darted out from the trees—Eirah didn’t have time to draw up her magic when a blade sliced straight through both necks, blood spraying.
Morozko held the sword, dripping with blood, in his hand as a frost demon set fire to both the changelings’ remains.
“Cease, little bird,” Morozko demanded, his chest heaving as he stepped toward her. “You’ve done well. Andras scouted the area, and for the time being, there isn’t a sign of any more, but I need to ask something else of you. Remember the stone in my vision that can locate the changelings? We need to create it now.”
Eirah furrowed her brow, thinking of all the things she’d created in her life. Most were from wood or metal. “What kind of stone? I don’t know much about them.”
“The stones are just stones but are bound with your magic and a little of the changeling’s blood. You cast a spell on them.”
Eirah may be a witch, but she had yet to attempt to cast a spell alone. She’d been working more with Morozko on how to wield her magic or how to shift. “I can try. Bring me a few stones, and we can see what I can do.”
He ordered one of the dark-haired guards to fetch a handful of stones from the river near the palace.
“Give me a moment,” Eirah said to Morozko, then slipped into her father’s ice house, where she found him inside with an arm protectively around Saren. The fire they sat behind crackled, and Eirah let out a breath that they’d remained safe.
“Thank you for staying here, Papa.”
“You have magic, daughter,” her father said, taking his arm from around Saren. When she’d helped warn the villagers, he’d fought her on it but then relented once she’d decided to show him her magic.
“I’m no longer mortal,” Eirah whispered, worried her father would look at her differently.
Saren didn’t say a word, only studied her hands, when her father spoke again, “Mortal or not, it doesn’t matter. You’re still my daughter.”
Eirah smiled, her shoulders relaxing at his words. “I must leave for now to help the king on another matter, but I’ll return when I can. I promise I will tell you everything else soon.”
“Stay safe, and call on me if you need my help.”
“I will, Papa.” Eirah wrapped her arms around her father, then turned to Saren. “Do you need anything? Another fur blanket?”
She shook her head. “No, I have all I need.”
Eirah sighed, wishing she could spend more time with Saren, but she needed to make certain her friend remained safe.
She found Morozko walking through the encampment, scanning each of the ice houses, a scowl on his face.
“It still seems to be clear,” the king said as he approached her, “but the bastards were drawn here for a reason. It was as if they knew we brought the villagers here. They had to have followed us somehow, or maybe they can feel one another, feel when one is in the shell of a mortal child.”
Eirah’s heart pounded at the thought that the villagers may not be able to truly hide from these demons. “Do you want me to scout around the forest in my owl form?”
Morozko brought a hand to her cheek, and the touch was comforting. “No, the guards are taking turns doing their rounds through the forest.”
The dark-haired guard from earlier broke through the trees, carrying a handful of gray stones in his palm. “Here they are, Your Majesty. I can retrieve more if you need them.”
Morozko took the stones, making a fist around them. “For now, keep watch. Make certain the villagers are fed, and tell them to remain in their homes. They are not to come out other than to be escorted to relieve themselves until we’re in the clear.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The frost demon turned on his heel and rushed toward the other guards to relay the message.
Morozko’s gaze fastened on Eirah, and he studied her for a long moment before finally saying, “Let’s go back to our ice house so that you may work in private. Especially if another changeling comes lurking about.”
Eirah nodded, and they walked side by side in comfortable silence. Morozko pushed the fabric away from the entrance, letting her slip inside first. The fire remained lit, not for warmth, but for added protection in case they needed it.
As the fabric fell behind Morozko, Eirah reached for the stones, and he batted her hand away. “I know it’s dire, but you will not start this very second. You will drink and eat something to rebuild your strength. We cannot have you fainting.”
Eirah sighed, knowing he was right. “Fine.”
