Quill of Thieves

Chapter 2

A prism of color splashed across the maze-like walls of Halorium's mountain fortress like droplets of blood from a rainbow as the bear-hide drums beat out a systematic message: Runaway avalanche. Clear the walls.

Anyone who'd studied under the militaristic tutelage of General Lyons, the Master General of the Ice Fortress would have been able to decipher the drums' true meaning: Her Royal Highness had escaped.

Again.

Even if it was just a training exercise.

Astrid Salvera grinned something feral, slipping further beneath the dark, furred hood of her white cloak. Above her, on the ramparts, the Iced Guards of Rainier held drumsticks in their golden-plated fists. The sticks were made of an alchemical mixture of ice and diamond, and as the sun shone onto them, the light refracted, each color sending out its own encrypted message as the guards expertly twisted their wrists.

Behind her, the carved pillars of the Halorian Library speckled in lights of green: All clear.

"Well done," Astrid muttered.

She made a mental note to offer congratulations to her Icicles (the term she'd cleverly coined for the young sentinels who fell under her jurisdiction). After all, her Icicles had responded an entire thirty seconds quicker than their last round of this cat-and-mouse game. However, that meant Astrid was only about thirty seconds ahead of them.

She slunk through the doorway of an empty weaver's shop, brushing past the silky blue and silver tapestries that hung from the ceiling. Astrid rolled her eyes. Always the colors of her mother's precious kingdom. She exited out the back onto an abandoned alley. Most civilians of the fortress had already begun their trade work for the day. Only the brightest and most influential of the Rainier Kingdom were allowed to live and work within the fortress walls and, as such, a day's work often began well before dawn with each Halorian trying to outperform the others. So the length of snowy, cobbled alleyway that stretched before her remained unmarred by footprints.

She couldn't very well allow hers to be the first.

With her back pressed into the cold, mountain wall behind her, Astrid skimmed through her mental list of mythical options. She could call on the wind, demand it to lift her on invisible wings to the opposite side of the fortress square. Unfortunately, she hadn't yet mastered the control needed for that and grudgingly admitted it was more likely she'd splatter to the pavement. The palms of her hands warmed as she thought about blasting all the snow away with golden flames.

Too showy. Besides, with her cuff, she would be lucky to wield a bout of smoke.

But the thought of that power sent her blood roaring in her ears, pulsing against the copper armband wrapped around her arm, just above her elbow. She should be used to the pain by now.

Calm down.

Her nails clawed against the copper band, drawing blood, grounding her.

Hold it in.

Astrid breathed deeply, eyes screwed shut against the sudden surge of pressure in her head.

It had never hurt like this.

Her head screamed, a sharp sound that seemed to resonate from the western Ember Sea and sent her hands clasping over her ears. She spun, pressing her forehead against the icy stone, and it was all she could see. Stone. Unyielding rock. Utter Confinement. If she was up on the ramparts, she knew she would be able to see all the way to the small fishing villages at the base of her mountain, and she imagined untethering her anchors and dancing freely upon the sea's waves.