Page 6 of Ties of Frost

So Zidra’s odd demeanor really wasn’t about me. Anuneasy feeling crept in. “Did she say where she was going?”

Sajen shook his head, his expression apologetic.

“No, but I know.” A young man I didn’t recognize, a forest elf by his dark hair and brilliantly green eyes, pushed off a pile of cushions. “I sneaked a glance at the letter over her shoulder. Rather odd. Just an apology for missing her earlier and a request to meet at Castle Grivolen as soon as possible. The sender didn’t even sign their name.”

Iskyr, is she in danger? Should I go after her?

The feeling of unease spread, along with a strong conviction I needed to be at Castle Grivolen. Cold swirled around my fingers. I blurted a thank-you and rushed back out into the night.

Castle Grivolen, or what was left of it, lay west of the city. Once the king of the wyveri’s stronghold, the castle had been destroyed after the wyveri king and his army of supporters from across the continent had summoned and attempted to form an unholy alliance with Ascadrion the Earth-Shaker. After Ascadrion was cast into the void, Emperor Syrzin banished the wyveri to the islands. He built a new castle and founded Laedresh, which eventually became the imperial palace and the capital. Grivolen’s ruins were left as a reminder not to repeat the mistakes of the past. No one with good intentions wanted to meet there at night, and certainly no respectable person asked a wyvern shifter to meet in that cursed place.

Whatever Zidra had gotten herself into, I wasn’t about to let her face it alone.

Three

Zidra

Something smelled wrong.

I lingered near an arch, the looming curve of mossy stone all that remained of the southern wall of Castle Grivolen. Jagged half-collapsed parapets, walls, and towers formed black silhouettes against the starry sky. It looked as dark and eerie as its cursed history. Meeting at the former seat of the Wyveri Kingdom would not have been my first choice, and the site reeked of illicit activities.

After circling the ruins as a wyvern and not seeing anyone, I’d landed. Even from the air, the smell had been offensive, and I’d shifted back to my di’ora in part to lessen my sense of smell. Traces of pipe smoke, strong drink, incense, mind-altering flowers and mushrooms, refuse, blood, and other pungent odors stung my nostrils. Humans, elves, and shifters had all been here within thelast several days, as had fire-foxes and other animals.

With all those scents, it was impossible to determine if anyone was in the ruins. My hearing gave no clues, either. My mysterious contact could be inside alone, have failed to show up again, or be hiding in the shelter of a tree with a small contingent of attackers.

I hated going into a situation unprepared.

That had to be the cause of the tightness in my stomach. Right? Sure, something seemed off with the informant not appearing at the tavern and then asking to meet tonight of all nights at Grivolen of all places. But I couldn’t leave.

With Magistrate Malvoy’s lack of cooperation, this informant might be my last chance to find the truth. For all I knew, Malvoy himself was the murderer. Nevros deserved justice, and allowing a killer to roam free violated my vows to protect the empire. Worse, if I fled like a coward, I wouldn’t deserve the medallion stuffed in my pack back at the Haven.

The thought of the Merit and the humiliation of earning it only because Kyrundar had tangled our fortunes strengthened my resolve. I would prove I was worthy of the Merit and that I didn’t need anyone’s patronizing aid to be an esteemed rengir.

I shifted my eyes to their wyvern form. The darkness lightened, tinged with red. Rocks, shrubs, and discarded wineskins and pottery shards littered the grounds. A frown pulled at my mouth. The ruins had been left as a warning but had become a harbor for new wickedness and carelessness. This wouldn’t do.I’ll speak to the governor about this tomorrow.

For now, I had an informant to find.

I drew my sword, reassured by its heft in my grip. As a rengir, I was bound by my oath to never harm innocents, never attack first without reasonable cause, and never kill except in self-defense or when absolutely necessary, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be prepared. A few seconds wasted drawing a weapon could be the difference between life and death.

Grass rustled beneath my boots as I stepped through the archway. Every step slow and purposeful, I stalked through the skeletal ruins.

A scent tickled my nose, stronger now. A person—I didn’t know how to describe the subtle differences between a person and an animal, but I could tell. The scent was definitely a person. The source was too weak and my sense of smell too overwhelmed for me to pick out human, elf, or shifter, but someone was getting closer. The problem was, the scent was coming from outside the ruins.

Perhaps I’d beaten my informant here.

I backtracked to the arch and stood in the shadows.

The swishing scrape of ice accompanied the clear, clean scent of snow magic. An ice elf? My informant couldn’t be Kyrundar. That wouldn’t make any sense. Nor would Kyrundar be visiting Castle Grivolen alone when he could be reveling with a horde of adoring rengiri. Right?

Just outside the ruins, the ice elf skated to a stop in a swirl of tiny ice crystals, and my suspicions were realized.

Locking a growl behind my teeth, I stepped past the arch. “Ilifir. What under Iskyr’s great sky are you doing here?”

“Good to see you, too,” he mumbled. “I was worried about you. You’re all right?”

“Of course I am! How did you find me, anyway?” He opened his mouth to answer, but I waved away his response. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. You need to go before—”

“Who are you meeting?”

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