Page 21 of Oracle of Ruin

“To use her, or to get to me. Or both. She renders me powerless while she has Vera, and Vera is the only one who can kill the Kijova. She makes Mavis the only one immune to this war.”

“Stop talking like she’s an object,” Blaine growls under his breath.

My lips pull back in a snarl.

Torin places his hand on my shoulder. “It’s getting dark. We can start again tomorrow with some more help.”

The anger within my blood slowly subsides. The forest has grown darker and the silence is far too dangerous. Stepping on a single twig is as swift a death as any with the Kijova lingering around every corner.

Blaine grunts and leads the way back to town just as the first flake of snow begins to fall.

Torin and I lift our faces to the sky, the tiny crystals melting into our skin. Torin’s face cracks into a wide smile and booming laugh. “Shit,” he laughs drily. “Winter is here.”

Chapter11

Verosa

Snowflakes form a curtain outside my window, barring me from the small glimpse of the outside world that I am allowed. The flurries crystallize on my window. The smooth glass is cool to the touch.

I slowly work a brush through my hair and allow myself to gaze in the mirror. I’ve slowly put on more of my former weight. I am still far too thin and my bones visible through my skin, but my clothes do not fall from my shoulders anymore and I can sleep through the night.

A fire crackles in the corner of my room where Emi stoked it. She said nothing but a few thinly veiled insults before leaving me alone. I haven’t seen Mavis in a week, and each time I questioned her whereabouts, I received the same answer: she’s hunting.

A shiver works its way up my spine and I wrap my arms around myself. They never specified whether she was hunting beast or man. The former would be more surprising than the latter.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Mavis appears in the doorway. Her silver-streaked hair is coated in a thin layer of snow and ice. A halo for an ice queen.

I rise from the vanity, my brush clattering to the floor. Mavis’s shoulders are squared as she tosses a glance over her shoulder. Two soldiers half carry, half drag a man behind them, his head lolling forward. Mavis drops a dagger and kicks it towards me, the iron blade skittering across the cool stone floors.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

Mavis snaps and the soldiers drop the man. His clothes are tattered and his skin shares matching tears beneath the cloth. Golden-flecked blood gushes from the wounds—no, claw marks.

“Trying a new tactic.” Her gaze drops to the man at her feet. Her features are aloof and unflinching. “Would you like to introduce yourself to the queen? No?”

“Mavis, he’s dying.”

The Nevan woman ignores me as I drop to my knees before him. Just before I can raise my flesh to my teeth and offer my blood, she speaks.

“I’ll do it for you then. Verosa, meet the man who stole you from your parents.”

My hand drops to my side and I stumble backwards onto my elbows. My parents. The one unanswered question I’ve been seeking the truth of. Are they alive? Are they in the kingdom? Are they looking for me?

Mavis watches with something like curiosity written across her features.

Conflict settles in my bones. He’s dying. I should heal him. But I can’t find it in myself to raise my limbs. They grow roots in the cracks of the stone floor and keep me there with them.

I find myself staring at the man’s face. The man who stole my family, my chance at a happy life. His left eye is seated slightly lower on his face than the right, and the corners crinkle, even with his mouth firmly planted in terror. Laughter lines. His clothing is fine, deep purples and reds staining the velvet he wears, and his hands look soft. All the scars that lace him look years old—twenty years old.

Sorrow burns my throat. He’s lived a life of luxury since kidnapping me.

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, he attempts to bring himself to his knees, his blood-speckled hands clasping even as they press against the worst of his wounds. “Please, I thought of you every day of my life. I thought I was giving you a better life.”

“Liar.”

I am hardly aware I spoke the word until his face pales and he lowers his head.

“I was afraid,” he pleads. “I was a coward. You knew the queen, you knew her. She was going to kill my girls,please.”

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