surface. The spikes build and join until he’s caged in an icy prison.
Thorn charges by in bear form and tackles the nearest summer soldier.
“Give us the changeling.” Tavaran rams his armored elbow against the bars. Bits of ice crack along the surface, but they don’t break.
“Never.” I raise my sword. “It would be so easy to kill you now. To freeze your heart and shatter you. To simply ram my blade through you. Call off your soldiers, or I will end you here and now.”
He scowls, his silver eyes hardening.
Fool. I could destroy them all. But I am not my predecessor.
I try to calm the vengeance in my blood, the frigid rage this invasion has pulled to the surface. I can’t give up our hard-won peace so quickly, despite the fact that summer has committed a grave sin against us. I speak as earnestly as I can. “We may yet have time to stop another war between our realms.”
“You stole the changeling, killed Lord Tyrios, and fled Byrn Varyndr. If anyone’s broken the truce, it’s you.” Tavaran’s sneer is trying to convince me that saving them isn’t worth it.
I send another spike of ice through his foot, talking over him as he howls. “Then it’s war. Perhaps this time I will wipe summer off the map and claim it as my own.”
“Unseelie garbage! You will—”
With an easy shove, I slide my sword through the icy cage and into his side at a joint in his armor. I’m well-acquainted with the summer realm’s weaknesses, though I’m surprised the war taught them nothing about how to create better defenses.
Tavaran screeches and struggles to free himself. More ice forms around his neck, holding him still while I press my sword into him.
“Call. Them. Off.” I won’t ask him again. “You seem to have no idea how close I am to destroying all of your soldiers and sending their corpses back to Byrn Varyndr with your head perched on top of the stack.” I twist the blade. “Now sound the retreat.”
He grits his teeth, but I can see him cracking like the ice of a frozen lake.
“Summer, retreat!” His yell is loud enough for the nearest soldiers to hear. Word spreads quickly through the skirmish. Thorn backs away, his maw dripping with enemy blood.
“Blades of winter, let them go.” I send my voice whistling down the line on a frigid breeze. “Do not follow.”
The golden soldiers hesitate.
“I said retreat!” Tavaran’s cry is more desperate this time, my silver blade hewing close to his liver.
The soldiers back down and flow toward the crossing, some of them carrying their wounded.
“Captain?” One approaches, a bloody slash on his face.
I tap on my sword, the pain immediately showing in Tavaran’s gasp. “All soldiers must leave my lands immediately.”
“Go! Retreat, I said!” Tavaran leans his forehead against his ice prison.
“But, Captain—”
I turn to him. “You only live because I allow it. Would you like me to change my mind?”
His face pales. “I—No. We will await your orders beyond the barrier, Captain.” He turns tail, leaving Tavaran to his fate.
“Look upon your death!” Grayhail rides up on his mount, his warhammer held high. Valen follows close behind.
Ravella rolls her eyes and stows her blades before seeing to the nearest wounded.
Gray jumps down and rushes toward the last of the summer realm soldiers.
“Gray, they’ve retreated.” I send a harsh wind that pushes the stragglers through the shimmering barrier.
He turns to me, disappointment in every corner of his deep frown. “I didn’t get to slay anyone.” Glancing past me, his glower lightens. “But you’ve got one left. One for me.” He strides up, and Tavaran’s brows rise high as he takes in Gray’s hulking body and thick warhammer.
“Valen, help the wounded.” I gesture toward the fallen winter realm guards.
“On it.” He kneels and begins to pull healing magic from inside him that casts a green glow on the muddied snow.
“Now, Tavaran.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re going to tell me what this is about in very specific terms.”
He spits blood onto the ice. “You killed our noble and stole the changeling. I’ve come to retrieve her.”
“Queen Aurentia sent you for Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“You spoke with her?”
“No.”
“Who told you to attack us?”
He cuts his gaze to Gray who is doing some practice swings behind me. One hit with his warhammer, and the ice and Tavaran would be nothing more than pulp.
“We received a message from Byrn Varyndr. It was from the queen.”
“Tell me what it said.”
He pauses for a moment, but another