Page 140 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

“Father, no,” Forest interrupted him. That was surprising. Perhaps he was going to suggest River should be tortured until death instead. River was so angry he didn’t care. He didn’t care if his father had never appreciated him, didn’t care if his brother hated him, didn’t care they were upset about what he’d done. He knew it had been the right choice.

His brother continued, “Give him a chance to bring the staff back. Or maybe, if he has so much talent that he can get to the dragon lords’ palace, he could bring one of the dragon hearts.”

It made sense. Forest wasn’t being revengeful or helpful, just strategic, likely thinking that the staff hadn’t been destroyed. River laughed. “There are no dragons.”

Forest rolled his eyes. “I told you the dragon lords’ hearts are the dragon hearts.”

His father raised a hand. “It’s fair. River, you’re exiled until you bring back the staff or a dragon’s heart.”

“Why would I bring anything to you? You think I care?”

“Leave,” his father said.

“Great. I’ll get my things.”

“No, boy. You’re taking only the clothes in your body, and consider that a favor.”

River wasn’t going to owe anyone anything. “I don’t need no favors.” He took off his shirt, then stopped when he heard a messenger running to them.

“King Spring. Your daughter…”

River could see it in the man’s eyes, could see the fear and despair. Not Ciara, no.

The messenger swallowed. “They tried to storm the Iron Citadel last night. Only one of her companions survived.”

River fell to his knees, unable to hear the rest, unable to bear the pain. Not funny, sweet Ciara, no. Suddenly his idea of destroying the staff felt stupid. It was his fault his sister had been killed.

Tears fell down his eyes, while he heard his father screaming, “Go! Get out of here. Traitor!”

“It’s not going to solve our problem, father,” Anelise, his other sister, said, her eyes misty. She’d just lost her twin and River couldn’t imagine the pain she was feeling. “River can help us. We need all the help we can get to win this war.”

“He’s incompetent!” his father roared.

River felt his sister putting something in his hand. He took it, then did as he’d been told, leaving the Ancient City, feeling disoriented, unsure where to go. And guilty. He stood in a clearing surrounded by trees. It was as if it was part of the Ancient City, part of the underworld, but outside its borders. Still in the Ancient realm.

So many things he’d done wrong. Instead of crossing the sea for a trinket, he should have stayed, should have helped them plan and fight. Maybe things could have been different. And yet he couldn’t change anything now.

* * *

Silence had such a heavy,overbearing weight. Still no enemy in sight, and yet Fel was uneasy. Then he felt it, the magic, as if it called to him. Almost too late he stopped three iron darts from reaching some archers. They had curved over the wall, something an ironbringer could easily do, and something that would make Umbraar soldiers’ position precarious.

Nobody had noticed what had happened. Meanwhile, Fel concentrated, trying to find the source of that magic. Then he felt something else, heavy iron weapons approaching the fort. Canons. It was almost as if he could see them, even though they were hidden by trees. But they hadn’t been fired yet, and weren’t yet in range.

He turned and yelled. “Get cover. Wooden boards or shields behind and above you. They have arrows that can curve over the battlement and reach us from behind. Magic.”

“You and you.” He pointed to two young soldiers standing behind him. “Go get as many planks as you can, and bring them to the archers. Fast.”

He barely finished saying that, and had to stop two more darts—or metal arrows—from hitting his men.

The canons were getting close. Fel knew that he shouldn’t attack if they weren’t attacked first, but the arrows were a clear sign of aggression. He reached the thick metal encasing of the canons with his magic—and broke them into thousands of pieces. Screams were heard from behind the thicket, as soldiers were probably hit by the shards. No mercy, no compassion.

Still the Ironhold forces hid in the forest by the fort. And there was no denying it was Ironhold, unless ironbringers were now acting as mercenaries, which he doubted. Fel knew where most of their forces stood, he could sense their steel swords at a distance. He didn’t want to waste arrows when they were so far, and yet.

“Catapults. I want fire after the first line of trees.”

Unfortunately there were only three purely wooden catapults, and using fire with them was tricky, as logs would need to be lit right when they were about to be released, but he trusted his men to do it well.

Some of the logs fell on the first line of Ironhold men. He knew it because he could feel where they were, and he also heard screams. Still, many of the logs got caught in the branches. Some of them caught fire, but it didn’t last long, as it had rained recently and the forest was humid.

---