Page 1 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

1

Secret in the Woods

Naia’s toes were freezing, and she still had no idea what insanity had made her leave the warmth of her bed, no idea what had compelled her to climb out of her window, no idea why she was out in the rain in the middle of the night. An odd feeling, a hunch, a weird, unscratchable itch.

Pity that the hunch had forgotten to warn her that these slippers would get drenched outside. But then, did she really need to be reminded of the obvious? Common sense wasn’t her companion tonight. At all.

It was as if something called her, pulled her, but whatever that something was, it was perhaps going too far, as she was now leaving the manor’s garden and stepping into the Shadowy Woods. If she kept going, eventually she’d come across one of the royal guards stationed in the forest around the property, and then she didn’t even want to think about all the explaining she’d have to do.

When she pictured herself sitting across from her father, the part she dreaded the most wasn’t making him angry or worried, but the fact that he’d learn that she could bend the iron bars from her window. He’d probably put some wooden trellis there or something, meaning no more random strolls at weird hours, also known as bye, freedom.

That was a horrible thought. But she did wonder how come he’d never guessed that iron bars wouldn’t contain an ironbringer. Right. As if he thought her magic was worth anything. At least being underestimated had its perks. Wow, freezing outside, what a magnificent perk.

The worst was that now everything was getting hard to see, considering the light from the garden lamps was fading into darkness, and any different sound would be drowned by the raindrops falling on the trees and leaves rustling with the wind.

Alone in dark woods in the middle of the night, her feet wet, unsure why she was even here, this would be the time to turn back to her warm room and some dry socks. Oh, the wonder of dry socks. And yet, there was something out there. Something… Nothing that she should fear, rather something calling her.

With eyes closed, she reached for her magic, but couldn’t feel any type of metal other than the faint traces of iron deep within the earth. She took a few more steps into the woods, trying to sense what was out there—then tripped on a root and almost fell. She should have paid more attention to where she was going.

Naia looked back. Too light to be tree bark. As she reached out and touched it, she realized it was soft and smooth, like… skin. This was a person. A person, lying on their stomach, wearing no shirt, unconscious—or dead.

Naia checked for a pulse. Still alive. But the hand was so cold. She was about to yell for the guards, yell for someone so they could get a healer, when she noticed the nails. Pointy, dark nails.

A chill ran down her spine. It couldn’t be. But then, the long hair was not white or pale blond. Even drenched and muddy, it looked brown or at least dark blond. She moved some of it away from one ear—and sucked in a breath.

This was her enemy.

Sure, she’d only heard of them in stories; the dreaded race that had razed cities to the ground, killed her grandparents, almost rid Aluria of humans.

Until they disappeared.

Her father had always thought they would return one day. Here was the proof that he’d been right.

With dark nails and pointy ears, this was a fae.

She touched the top of his head and found pointy, backward horns. Fae, for sure, but these creatures in Aluria were supposed to be monstrous, with blond-white hair, claws, and red eyes. Well, the hands had pointy nails. But at the same time, there was something so human, so vulnerable about this fae, unconscious in the woods, perhaps dying. A young man, based on the size of his arms and back and what she could see of his face.

Naia swallowed, her heart thrumming in her chest. She should call the guards. And then what? The fae would be beaten, perhaps worse. But he was an enemy. Or maybe not. So much time had passed. This could be a sole survivor or maybe someone who had nothing to do with the past war. Or perhaps a different fae race from across the sea.

Maybe, maybe. Every second she spent thinking was a second he remained on that cold ground. Naia was no healer. But calling guards or her father could seal his fate, and she didn’t know if she would want that blame. She had a choice to make.

Naia got up and ran back to her room, then tiptoed down the hallway to the kitchen. There, she took the biggest tray she could find, one meant for serving whole boars. Sometimes she used her metal magic to transport animals she hunted, and this was the only way she could imagine herself bringing that fae inside.

Perhaps she should call Fel to help her. No. Her brother would definitely want to tell their father, and for now, she wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea. Yes, her twin’s outrageous metal magic would probably be helpful, but… The fae was her secret, and perhaps she wanted to keep it that way.

Carrying the tray and also a blanket from her bedroom, she returned to that place in the forest, almost afraid that someone would have found him or that he would have disappeared somehow, but he was still there, still unconscious. She placed the blanket over the tray, then, with some effort, rolled the fae over it and wrapped him. Hopefully that would prevent the iron from hurting him. If it was true that iron hurt them. If he was really a fae.

She hoped that he was not a white fae, that this didn’t mean they were returning, didn’t mean another war would start. Still, for now, she just wanted to save him; otherwise she’d never know why she’d been drawn to him, who he was, or what he was doing here.

Moving him all the way to her bedroom wasn’t going to be easy. Naia sighed. The weight over the metal should make no difference, except that she always felt that it did, and then had trouble moving heavy objects. Fel would be able to get this fae inside without even blinking or breaking a sweat.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Perhaps that was how her magic had gotten so shitty; by relying so much on her twin. She sighed again, then reached for her connection with the iron. It wasn’t that it called to her, but that she could feel it, as if it were an extension of her own body that she could touch when the need came.

Naia floated the tray with the fae on it, carefully bringing it to the gardens. Thankfully there was nobody there. She approached her window, moved the bars again, then opened the glass panes wide, to make room for the unconscious fae.

Getting him in was going to be the hardest part: a mistake could make him fall and break his neck. If fae even got broken bones.

For now, she raised her hand, even if she knew that it made no difference for the magic, and guided the tray through her window. Her arm was trembling, and, feeling she’d be unable to hold anymore, she dropped the muddy tray, blanket, and fae on her bed.

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