Page 38 of Grim and Oro (Lightlark)

FROST

The rooms don’t have hearths.

There are just two narrow beds, with barely enough room to walk between them, and a single window frosted over in a layer of ice. Only the smallest sliver of sunlight peeks through.

This will be a very comfortable next few years, I can feel it.

I set down my pack and try to imagine how long Enya is going to laugh when I tell her my breath is coming out in clouds, even indoors.

My roommate hasn’t arrived yet. I choose a bed, then open my pack with frozen fingers.

Agnes, my brother’s guardian, surprised me with a hand-knitted blanket.

She isn’t supposed to dote on me, but that’s never stopped her from treating me like I’m just as important as my brother.

I fold it carefully onto the bed, then form a fire in my fist. The warmth melts the chill from my skin, feeling like home.

The door slams open behind me.

I turn, expecting my roommate. Instead, I find a tall woman with long white hair. She glares at me.

Her hand shoots forward, and the fire in my fist hardens into ice. I startle, then drop it onto the floor, where it shatters against the stone.

“Your fire isn’t allowed here,” she snaps. “Come with me.”

I reluctantly leave my bedding behind and follow her down the stairs. Other Moonlings in my training group stare at us, wide-eyed. They begin to whisper.

The Moonling doesn’t stop at the castle doors. She slips past them and down the stairs, until she reaches a patch of snow.

She points. “That will be your bed for the night, Sunling. If I catch you using fire again, you’ll be out of my training.”

My training . I swallow. This isn’t any ordinary Moonling.

It’s Instructor Cleo. The Moonling ruler’s younger sister, famed for her ruthless training. It’s not just a rumor, I realize, as she turns to leave me outside, without a second glance.

I sit in the snow and think about how I’m going to write this in a letter to Enya. At first, it’s almost amusing. The chill is unfamiliar. It’s curious. I study the ice castle with fascination.

Then the sun goes down, and all that’s left is mind-numbing cold.

I shake against the ground. My feet and hands have long lost sensation. Pain like needles threads through my arms and legs with every shiver.

Frost begins to form on my hair. Ice, I find, burns like fire, in its own biting way.

Fuck this .

The instructor isn’t here. She isn’t looking. She’s probably sleeping, like I should be. I reach toward the fire inside.

And that’s when I realize Instructor Cleo didn’t just force me to be out here as punishment.

She wanted it to be impossible to use my fire.

The flame within has hardened into ice. I can’t use it.

“ Fuck ,” I curse into the snow.

Somehow, I fall asleep. I wake up, gasping for air. Only a small amount reaches my shaking lungs. I cough. It hurts to breathe. Everything hurts. When I open my eyes, there she is, staring at me.

Instructor Cleo.

“Ready to quit?” she asks, voice emotionless. Her white hair is tied into a long braid, whipping behind her in the frigid wind.

Using every shred of my strength and resolve, I somehow pull myself to my feet. I can’t show weakness. Not this early in my training. I refuse to be sent back to the castle. Especially after I’ve made it through the night.

The only thing worse than this physical torture would be the sight of my father’s face if I return to the Mainland castle too soon.

I straighten my spine, fighting the urge to collapse.

“Never,” I say.

She smiles. “We’ll see about that.”

Then, she raises her hands, and a wave of snow turns to water, soaking me to the bone. It hardens to ice, and I nearly fall to my knees in pain.

I’ve never been so cold in my life. Sunling skin is naturally warm; our fire feeds from within. But that kind of mastery takes decades. This brutal cold eats everything. Even my resolve.

I might have found my fire. Now, I realize, the true test has begun. Finding it even in the most grueling of conditions. This training is a mastery of fire as much as it is water.

“Do you think he’ll die?” a Moonling girl asks from behind me, as Instructor Cleo walks away, smirking. My training class has started to come down the castle steps.

“No,” a boy says, seeming disappointed. Then, his tone brightens. “But he might get killed tonight. Did you see who his roommate is?”

I can’t hear his next whisper, but I definitely catch the girl’s surprised gasp. “You’re kidding! He won’t last the night.”

Roommate? I have no idea who it is, thanks to Cleo’s punishment.

As far as I know, I don’t have any Moonling enemies ...

Cleo’s voice rings even through the biting wind. “At attention!” she says, before lining us up. Dozens of Moonlings are training this year. We all wear white cloaks, not nearly warm enough for the conditions. Through the snow, I can barely make out anyone’s faces. Who could my roommate be?

Laughing echoes around me. I can hear them whispering, as if everyone is in on a joke I don’t understand.

Instructor Cleo slams her staff down onto the snow, and the group silences.

“If you’re going to be a Moonling warrior, you’re going to have to prove you can survive in the harshest climates.

You will either form a connection with the cold—or you will die.

This is your last chance to drop out of training. Anyone?”

Not one person moves. Moonling training is optional, since we aren’t at war. Everyone here knows the risk, knows that more than half the class won’t survive the next few years.

“Good. I hope you enjoyed the comfort of your rooms last night, because you will be spending the next month out there, in the Vinderland, with nothing but the cloaks on your back.”

Dread slips down my spine.

So soon? The classes I’ve heard about have only gone north in their last year ... though I suppose I never met anyone who had survived Instructor Cleo’s training ...

She points north. “You must hunt your own food. Find your own nonfrozen water. Fight your fellow warriors for resources. Create your own shelter. Find your connection to the cold. Or you will die.” She looks around. “The Vinderland is unforgiving ... and so is life.”

All hell breaks loose, but everyone pauses as she raises her hand.

“You will work in pairs. Find your roommate. There are no rules except survive .”

Roommate .

I swallow as she walks away, back up the Moonling castle steps, and everyone around me begins to panic, searching for their partners.

I don’t know much about the Vinderland, other than it’s a place not even many Moonlings venture to. It’s too cold, for even trained ones.

“The Vinderland? She’s going to get us killed!”

“Hunting expeditions won’t even go there.”

“I heard there are bodies everywhere. Explorers use them as markers.”

I won’t make it. Cleo has ensured that. I’m not used to this climate, unlike Moonlings who have lived here their entire lives. I’m already freezing. I haven’t eaten or had water for hours. If it was Instructor Cleo’s goal to kill me, then she is about to get her wish.

Even if I wanted to move, my body is frozen in place. I’m not even shivering anymore. I just stand, watching, wondering who my mysterious roommate is.

The one who supposedly wants me dead.

The one that will kill me at any given opportunity.

There is a small comfort in knowing the cold will likely kill me before my roommate does.

All at once, someone emerges from the crowd. Everyone gives him a wide berth, letting him pass.

He is a giant. Seven feet tall at least, and made of muscle, like a rock come to life.

His eyes are set on me.

I don’t recognize his face, but I do recognize the name being whispered around me. My blood turns to ice.

Calder.

Son of the head of the greatest resistance Lightlark has seen in centuries.

Son of the man my father burned to ash, just years prior.

Fuck.