Page 4 of Ties of Frost

I was a respectable rengir. I wasn’t that petty.

Finally, I broke free of the suffocating crowd of rengiri and started up the steps—on foot. Like a normal person who understands how stairs work.

Kyrundar landed on the Grand Marshal’s right with a flourish of icy swirls and a roguish grin, drawing applause. The way he posed and winked for the crowd, it was as if he had forgotten his name meantbeloved of godand decided it meantgod’s gift to all people. I eyed the hundreds of steps between me and the podium and sighed. It would be more awkward if I made everyone wait for me to walk.

Comforting dragon fire raced through me as I shifted. My fingers grew and spread as my arms and hands transformed into leathery wings. My entire body swelled, and gray scales overtook my skin while two curving horns replaced my hair and a powerful tail sprouted. In di’yar, wyveri were the largest of all the shifters, and I towered over the other rengiri. My senses sharpened, making the cheers and exclamations of awe deafening.

I flew to the platform in a couple beats of my wings and landed where I wouldn’t crush the Grand Marshal or my rival. For a moment I envisioned “accidentally” blocking Kyrundar with a massive wing.

Fine. Maybe I was a little petty.

He always got under my scales.

Instead, I shifted back to my di’ora and marched over. I bowed to the Marshal and ignored Kyrundar.

I barely heard the Marshal’s congratulations as he shook our hands. He hung a gold medallion on a thick ribbon around Kyrundar’s neck, because of course the pretty and charming elf was recognized first. Even at the moment of my greatest achievement, I still wasn’t good enough.

The Grand Marshal stepped in front of me. Unlike Kyrundar, I didn’t have to duck down as he easily reached over my head. The medallion thunked against my leather breastplate. Its weight pulled the ribbon down, crushing my curls. I managed to smile, desperately trying to feel proud.

The Marshal stepped into the gap between me and Kyrundar, grabbed one of each of our hands, and lifted them above our heads. “I present to you this Dawning Festival’s recipients of the Emperor’s Merit: Kyrmaris!”

My teeth hurt from clenching them behind my smile.

Two

Kyrundar

Elves lived the longest of all three races, often around seven hundred years, and we possessed the most powerful magic, so we were all staid, refined, and controlled. Always perfect examples of tradition, gentility, and respectability.

Ludicrous stereotype.

Back at the Riverfront Haven, a rengir common house in a wealthy district of Laedresh and one of my favorite Havens, I celebrated with enthusiasm. Rengiri didn’t charge for our services, but we were allowed to accept gifts and donations. As I’d recently rescued a wealthy merchant’s caravan, I had a little money to fund the revelry. I bought a whole hog, three baskets of fresh fruit, and several kegs of pear cider, my alcoholic beverage of choice.

All right, fine; sometimes I was a bit of an elven stereotype.

Even my earrings were a light elf tradition, so I looked like a typical elf in Bryluthia—aside from my ice elf white hair, blue eyes, and magic. Since elf magic was passed from father to son and mother to daughter, earrings were how I embraced my light elf mother’s side of the family.

While I hadn’t inherited my mother’s magic, I had been blessed with her vocal talent, which I put to use leading the celebrating rengiri in songs about ancient battles. Sloshing more cider than I drank, I danced atop a table with three other warriors. Music and merriment echoed against the stone walls. I sang a rousing ballad and ignored the hollow feeling beneath the Emperor’s Merit medallion tapping against my sternum.

Zidra hadn’t so much as smiled at me. She’d shifted and flown out of the palace without a word. While I hoped she was partying in another Haven, I had a terrible feeling she wasn’t. I wanted her to celebrate accomplishing a dream we’d both held since we attended the Academy together. A dream we’d helped each other achieve.

More than anything, what I really wanted was for Zidra to be here, celebrating with me.

I sang louder, going a little off-key, to drown out my own thoughts. More rengiri arrived, bringing food, drinks, and musical instruments. Someone brought a small rubbery ball and started a game, hitting the ball with a wood paddle and bouncing it off the wall. I drifted between conversations until the music turned to romance and myappetite for food and company shriveled.

Rengiri filled every room and hall and even the gardens and courtyard of Riverfront Haven, spilling into the street. Zidra wasn’t among them. I didn’t realize I was looking for her until I reached the front gate a second time.

What was going on with her? She should have been glowing with pride, but she’d been the least animated I’d ever seen her during the Ceremony. She had to have known I would invite her to celebrate, but she hadn’t given me the chance. Either something terrible was distracting her, or she was angry with me for reasons I couldn’t imagine.

I wandered down the street. Revelers spilled out of taverns and homes, swayed arm in arm down the cobblestone roads, or talked in circles of golden light beneath street lanterns. People called congratulations as they recognized me, and a few men ran over to shake my hand.

“Congratulations, Rengir Ilifir! Is Rengir Eilmaris nearby?” A broad-shouldered shifter—I wasn’t sure what kind, but the fangs gave him away—craned his neck to look around. His eager expression annoyed me. “Surely Kyrmaris is celebrating together? I hoped to meet her.”

“Oh, we’re…honoring different Havens with our presence,” I said with a stiff grin. Not intentionally on my part, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Ah, right.” His shoulders sloped downward, and his feet dragged as he left.

“Surely Kyrmaris is celebrating together?”

---