Page 8 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

Their father sighed. “Don’t say that. Still, you don’t want to reveal your magic.”

That didn’t make sense. “But everyone knows we’re ironbringers.”

“Still. Never show your true power to your enemies.”

Fel snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure they’ll be terrified of spinning fingers. But don’t worry, I’ll hide them when we get there.”

Her father grunted, and Fel put his hand back in place; metal pieces mimicking hand bones, kept together with ironbringing. It was what made Fel so powerful. He had to use an insane amount of magic just to perform ordinary actions, such as holding a fork, drinking from a cup, buttoning his shirt, or brushing his hair—and she was pretty sure he spent a lot of time brushing it.

Naia still remembered her twin as a child, trying to use a solid metal hand, frustrated that he couldn’t hold anything. He asked for hands made of more and more pieces, trying hard to mimic normal hand movements. Naia had sat with him as he made an effort to copy her gestures, often feeling defeated, sometimes angry, but never at her. A few times she had heard him crying in his bedroom, but pretended she hadn’t noticed, as nothing brought him more shame than being caught in tears. But the tears had been worth it. Eventually he asked for metal pieces that looked like hand bones and, with a lot of training and persistence, mastered his control over the pieces to the point he could mimic hand movements.

Then his magic took this gigantic leap, a leap Naia could never reach no matter how much she practiced. She was happy that her brother was so powerful, but felt weak and incompetent in comparison. That until recently, when she’d found her own magic. Not that her father cared for it.

The air got warmer, so Naia rubbed her hand on the window and noticed they had entered the dome, a colossal metal and glass structure surrounding the Frostlake capital like a gigantic greenhouse.

She turned to her brother. “You could destroy this dome without even blinking, couldn’t you?”

Fel looked out the window. “Wow, it’s huge. I’d need to get closer, I think.”

Their father rolled his eyes. “Great. Our hosts will be delighted to hear you can destroy their city.”

Fel chuckled. “Just because I can, it doesn’t mean I will.”

He then glared at his son. “You think a gathering is a joke? You’ll need your wits, you’ll need to remain alert. There are princesses from other kingdoms, and they might try to snare you.”

Naia pushed back her laughter trying to imagine a horde of young women throwing themselves at her brother and asked, “Don’t they hate us?”

Her father was still serious. “Hate is meaningless when they might see a chance to extend their influence to another kingdom.” He turned to Fel. “Guard your heart. It’s the most precious thing you have.”

The funny part was that he didn’t give Naia the same advice. Right. He obviously didn’t think she had a heart.

Fel rolled his eyes. “We’ll spend four days there. What kind of nitwit has their heart stolen in such little time?”

Such little time. Was it possible to steal a heart in four days? What about in an hour? Or in a few seconds? Was her heart still whole? She didn’t want to think about it.

A dark shadow crossed her father’s eyes. “Young people get carried away by their fancies, they don’t know the difference between reality and illusion.”

“Noted, father.” Fel’s voice was still mocking. “What’s the next advice? Don’t jump from a cliff?”

Naia’s father grunted. “We’ll also go over treaties, and I want you two learning how to deal with those royal snakes. I fear the Ironhold king will try to extend his power, using the fae as an excuse.”

Naia stiffened, even if she’d been practicing acting normal whenever she heard that word. But she couldn’t shake her guilt. Guilt for not telling anyone what she’d seen, then even more guilt for perhaps hurting or even killing River. Her father’s magic could kill someone easily, and she couldn’t stop wondering if that was what had happened.

But if River was alive, where had he gone? How come he had disappeared? What exactly had she done? Then there was the memory of a kiss that would never leave her lips, a taste that had never left her tongue. Did it mean that her heart had been compromised?

“The attacks. You truly don’t think it’s the fae?” Fel asked.

Attacks. In different kingdoms, a few villages had been targeted by some mysterious magic that left everyone dead. Not yet in Umbraar. She felt guilty for that too, wondering if it had anything to do with the white fae, wondering if she could have somehow prevented this by telling someone that she’d seen one of them.

Her father shook his head. “If they had returned, we would have known by now. Someone would have seen them. This is something else. I don’t know what, but it’s not the fae.”

Naia wished she could disappear in her seat, even if she hoped her father was right and none of it had anything to do with the fae—or her secret. So far she’d wondered how come neither her father nor brother had suspected anything, but then, the idea that she had rescued—and kissed—a fae was so outrageous that there was no way something like that would ever cross their minds.

Fel snorted. “Perhaps the attacks were planned by heartbreaking princesses. That’s the real danger.”

“Isofel.” Her father’s voice was low and calm, a warning, as he glared at his son, who stared back.

Naia’s father had eyes the green of dried leaves, while her brother’s eyes were more like brilliant green jewels. They both had brown skin, but her brother had straight black hair and sharp features, while their father had wavy brown hair and a softer face. It was unsettling to see them staring at each other. In fact, in theory a deathbringer could kill with a stare, so she always felt terrified when her father looked at her brother like that.

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