Page 113 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

She was quiet for a moment, then said, “How can I prevent that?”

It took a lot of training. Training she obviously had never gotten. But then again, perhaps necromancy was different. It had to be much less dangerous, if her father had never warned her against any of that. Still, he distilled the main idea. “Control your thoughts, control your feelings, control your dreams.”

The girl nodded.

They came to the Iron Citadel. A monstrosity housing monsters. What was wrong with Ursiana? How could she have sent her daughter there? But then, King Harold was friends with the necromancer king, and maybe none of that was monstrosity for him. Maybe the two kingdoms were even conspiring together. It made a lot of sense. And the Ironholds wouldn’t hurt the sole Frostlake heir. “We won’t be seen. Tell me where you need to go.”

“It’s high up, my bedroom.”

He focused and saw the top floor in his mind’s eye. Bedrooms and bedrooms. One of them caught his eye. “Is it pink?”

“Yes.”

Strange choice for someone with death magic. They usually didn’t like bright colors. Then again, he was making assumptions based on deathbringing. Getting inside a closed space was always hard. He grabbed her arm firmly, while he felt darkness pressing on them. “Silence now,” he whispered.

When the dark subsided, he was inside a bright pink room. “Is this it?” he asked as softly as he could, to prevent anyone from hearing him.

She nodded, then whispered, “Thank you.”

Ursiana’s daughter showed no hint of fear, so she was probably safe. The girl was lucky that she hadn’t turned out somewhere else, from where she wouldn’t know how to return. She should know how to return, but she had obviously never gotten any training. He still had an odd feeling about it. Still wondered… That had to be nonsense.

He nodded and left. For more nonsense. Of course Ursiana was safe. Perhaps she was sitting on a throne with her necromancer husband laughing at the destruction they were planning. Perhaps she was also conspiring with Prince Sebastian, from Wolfmark. Didn’t she like him so much?

Azir still wondered how come he hadn’t killed the prince. He wondered about it often, but there was nothing to wonder. Murder wasn’t going to fix anything. As to Ironhold, there was no fixing. Even if he killed the king, someone else just as awful would take power. They were all poisoned. Except Fel and Naia. And their mother, probably.

But this was not the time to stir the flames of his anger, but to go to Frostlake, just to check if Ursiana was safe. His foolishness still managed to astonish him.

He opened the darkness to see the ridiculous Frostlake castle. What kind of necromancer built a castle that looked like a cake? He closed his eyes to try to look inside. It shouldn’t be too much trouble, as it was always easy to see where she was. But before he found her, he saw a corridor—full of blood and dead guards. Frostlake was being attacked. His heart stopped. The world stopped. Everything stopped.

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