Page 38

Valen

“Focus, Suria.” The words come out sharper than I intend, but she’s so damn distracted.

“I’m trying,” she snaps, clenching her fists. A thin layer of frost coats her knuckles, and cold air wafts from her shoulders. “Maybe you’re just a shitty teacher.”

“Yeah?” I lean closer, my own hands icing over. “And maybe you’re just a shitty student.” Her hair is in her eyes. “Why don’t you put your hair up? It will be easier to see how badly you’re screwing up.”

“No.” Her eyes go wide, and I groan. “And you’re an ass!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” I hold out my hand, and a small ball of snow forms. Curling my fingers around it, I hurl it at the side of the estate. It explodes in what’s usually a wholly satisfying thump , but I don’t find it as amusing right now. “I’m a little bit on edge.”

Suria deflates a little. “Because you’re fighting with your girlfriend?”

My head snaps up. “Huh?”

“Tania. You and she—”

I slap a hand over her mouth. “How the hell do you know that?”

She narrows her eyes, then pries my hand loose. “I’m young—not an idiot.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Well, obviously.” She drops her gaze to her hands. “Is it because she’s human? Or are you ashamed?”

“Why would I be ashamed of her?”

“Not of her. Because of her.” She fixes me with a glance that somehow makes me feel so much smaller. “Let’s be honest. You’re a male. And the Winter Lord. It has to be a blow to your fragile ego that the person you’re with is stronger than you are.”

“I could never be ashamed—wait. You think Tania is stronger than me?”

Suria blinks several times, looking at me as though I’ve grown another head. “Isn’t she?”

“I—um—well—” I laugh. Nothing gets past this kid. Suddenly, I’m glad she’s here. Not because she might be a help during the battle—we still have reservations about involving her—but because I actually like having her around. She’s the younger sibling I always wanted. “Things between Tania and me are complicated.”

“Because everyone hates her?”

“They don’t trust her,” I correct.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” She stands and holds out her right hand. This time when she tries to create a weapon, she gets a bit farther than a simple stick. A longer piece of ice forms, curling into a half circle.

“I suppose it is.” I nod to the thing in her hand. “What are you trying to create?”

She glares at the curled icicle, then tosses it into the air. It crashes to the ground and shatters into several pieces. “Ugh. Like I said, I don’t remember much about my life before Rotting Ledge, but there was a man… I think he might have been my father. He—he taught me how to use a bow. I thought maybe I could… Never mind. It’s stupid.”

I pick up a piece of the broken ice and hand it back to her. “That’s not stupid. Not even a little. Try it again. Only, instead of thinking about the bow you’re trying to create, think about that man—about your father. Focus on that—on him.”

She rolls her eyes but takes a step back, gripping the broken piece of ice. After a moment, it elongates, curving back around. This time, the bow forms in its entirety, and she lets out a squeal of delight. “I did it!”

She holds the weapon up and takes aim, pulling at the string. It snaps, brittle pieces plinking to the ground.

Her expression sags, and she lets the rest of the icy weapon fall to the ground. “Sort of…”

“It’ll come. It takes time—and practice.”

“But we don’t have time.” She stomps her foot, and a puff of snow cascades all around us.

I rest a hand on her shoulder. She’s right, but I can’t tell her that. Instead, I smile. “I don’t believe that. That bow you just made? It took me years to create my first whole weapon.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I snap my fingers, and a cluster of snowflakes falls above our heads. “You’re doing so much better than I ever did, so keep the faith. Now…” I take a step back and rub my hands together. “Put your hair up and let’s get to the fun stuff.”

She shuffles, dropping her gaze and moving a bit farther away. “I’m fine the way I am.”

“Suria, you need to channel your magic through your hands—at least for now. Pinning your hair back would make that so much eas—”

“Stop asking, okay!” She hunches forward, shoulders taut and fists curled. Several tufts of frosty air rise from her fists. “I said I’m fine the way I am.”

We still don’t know anything about Suria’s past, but I’m starting to wonder if her inability to remember it is more of a choice than circumstance. This is the second time I’ve brought up her hair, and she’s furious. Does she have scars? Bruising? The idea that someone might have harmed her makes my blood boil. “Suria—”

The door behind us creaks open, and Celpin pokes his head in. “Might I have a word, Lo—Valen?”

I glance at Suria, who’s still standing, ready to pounce, and sigh. “Give me a minute, Suria?”

She says nothing, and I turn, following Celpin to the edge of the room.

“The council wants an update on the druid and the tear.”

“ Tania is doing fine,” I say tightly. “She has it under control.”

“It would have been better controlled if you ingested the power.”

“We’ve been over this, Celpin.” I scrub a hand across my face and glance back at Suria. She’s still watching me, but now her expression is murderous.

Celpin and I continue to talk, and when I look back again, Suria is gone. In her place is a heaping pile of snow…