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“Eventually, they will,” Morozko offered as gently as he could. Not tonight or tomorrow, but eventually. “As for you, little bird. Was there a reason you called for me across the clearing?”
“I saw you fall, and didn’t see you rise.” Eirah brushed her hand down the boy’s back, then pushed him toward the ice house’s opening. He scampered away, leaving the two of them alone. She stood, sucking in a breath that sounded suspiciously like a gasp as she gave him a once-over.
Morozko shrugged a shoulder and turned his head. “The changeling is dead and, with any luck, sending my wretched mother a message.” He lifted a brow, lips curling into a grin. “Does it diminish my—”
Eirah reached out, touching his face. Beneath her digits, warmth spread, and Morozko squeezed her wrist gently. “Oh, stop, but it does add a certain rogue-like quality to you.”
“Ah, does it now?” His lips spread further, and despite the discord erupting around them, he did so want to kiss her, embrace her even, until the madness faded away. “As much as I’d love to bask in the moment where you’re complimenting me… Aside from stones, what more do you need?”
She nodded. “More blood. Before burning them, drain the changelings.” Eirah glanced around.
He frowned. “I’ll pass on the word.”
“Your Majesty!” Andras bellowed from the distance.
Eirah shooed him. “I will be safe! Go see to your men.”
Her dark eyes focused on him, and Morozko closed the distance, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before taking off toward the captain of the guard.
When he got to Andras, two frost demons lay bloodied on the ground, their necks torn open and crimson fountained from them.
“Fuck.” Morozko gritted his teeth. There was nothing that could be done for his guards because the light had faded from their eyes already.
“There are a few changelings running through the brush,” Andras rasped, lifting his hand to motion toward the direction they’d gone.
Morozko growled. “Not for long. We’ll flush them out, send them back to the dark pit they came from.” A low chittering rolled through the clearing, echoing off the trees. One was nearby, taunting him—his guards.
The king leaped into the bushes, bramble snagging at his leathers as he waded deeper. A branch snapped, and motion caught his attention just as a changeling lunged forward, swiping at his side. Claws bit through his leather tunic, tearing into his skin.
Morozko hissed. Fresh air lapped at his exposed flesh, and he didn’t have to glance down to know that blood oozed down his side.So much for the wound not coming to fruition.
Unsheathing his sword, he waited until the creature launched at him again, and as it did, Morozko cut from the bastard’s shoulder down to its waist. The two halves fell to the ground with a thud. He cleaned his sword off on his trouser leg, gingerly picking up the pieces of the changeling and hauling them to the fire at the encampment. Morozko was readying to join his guards again when a scream pierced the air, shrill and high. This time, it wasn’t a changeling or a child.
This one he felt in his bones and in his mind.
Eirah!
There are two changelings, Morozko. I can’t see them!
His heart leaped into his throat as he spun around, searching.Where are you?
Near the stream.
Did she bring a guard as he’d suggested?Just hold on! I’ll be right there.Morozko charged forward. “Nuka!” His familiar was in the woods, sniffing out the lesser demons, but Morozko needed him now. So did Eirah.
Nuka ran into view, then darted down the pathway, sniffing the air in search of Eirah. Morozko only had the strange tug in the center of his chest, guiding him as to where she may have been. Similar to the time she had slipped beneath the water in the tub.
Leaves and twigs crunched beneath his boots as he approached the river. Every sound seemed amplified to him as he searched the area for Eirah, and although he was relieved to not find her strewn across the snow in pieces, he still hadn’t found her whole, either.
Water splashed onto his boots as he stepped into the stream, then he jogged across it. She wasn’there!“Where are you?”
Here.Her voice was so weak in his mind, fading, but it stopped him from snapping at her, from berating her for the lack of description. She was weak… was she hurt?
Are you all right?
Nothing.
Where was here? Morozko jogged down the stream, glancing over the bank. She was nowhere to be found. But Nuka had trotted off upstream, and his deep woof alerted Morozko. He ran to where the wolf stood, pausing for a moment to take in the way Nuka’s head bowed at the still body on the ground.
