“Syssia was indisputably the finest,” said Tyzen with a wry glance over his shoulder. “But do continue, my lady.”
Eyes snapping with amusement, she did. “In those days, Koth was not an island, but a shining city atop the peak of a mountain. It was there that a boy came to the city gates, nameless and naked. No one knew which cave he’d lived in or who his family were—but he came to Koth’s shining city hoping for a better life than he’d found in the forests and wilds. He named himself Varrin, and first he labored in the stables, then labored in the mines, before earning a position sweeping floors in the Great Hall where all the world’s finest minds gathered to write their poetry, practice their magic, and share their knowledge. There he listened and learned, even as the discussions became more fearful, and terrified eyes turned to the northern peaks, which were turning white.”
“Because the world was freezing,” Seri breathed.
“It was, for Vela’s gentle light was not always upon us. Enraged by his imprisonment, Enam never stopped struggling against his bonds. And though Nemek’s braids would not break, one day the knots might loosen and he might slip free. Regularly Vela looked to make certain the knots were still tight, turning her face away from the earth—and with each full turn she made, the colder it became. But this time, no refuge could be found in the caves. Herds were slaughtered for their furs, but no number of blankets were warm enough. Forests were burned for their heat, but the trees never regrew fast enough. Only with their magic could sorcerers keep their fires lit, but there was nothing to eat except snow, so all the fires were growing dim. By that time, Varrin had learned a little of magic, and warmed by his own small fire, he trudged out into the freezing stillness in search of help. Weakened and gaunt, he was so very close to death—and it is said that was how he found silver-fingered Rani.”
“Though she was not silver-fingered yet,” Seri said, reaching for her belt—for the pouch that contained her claws, Aerax realized. Sheer grief moved across her face even as Lady Junica nodded.
“He found her sitting atop the Fanged Mountains, her eyes spitting lightning and sobbing tears that fell like boulders of ice—for she and her dragon had no rest, flying the souls of those who had starved and frozen into Temra’s arms, and all the world was near to dead.”
“She is the most softhearted of all the gods,” Seri said quietly. “It seems almost a punishment that she must be death.”
“But her soft heart is a gift to us,” Lady Junica said. “For when Varrin told her what must be done, she didn’t hesitate before mounting her dragon and flying to the sun. She knew Vela might kill her for what she intended, but Rani wasted no time to consult with the moon, for more lives were lost to the cold with every passing moment. There she grabbed hold of Nemek’s braids, though Enam’s heat burned through the silver and scorched her flesh. But only Nemek can break their hair or untangle a knot—and try as she might, Rani could not force apart the windings of the braid to allow even the smallest bit of Enam’s power to shine through, because the bindings had been wound too tight. Still, Rani tried until her fingers were cooked to the bone, then flew to find Nemek to heal her so she might try again. But Nemek could not heal her injury, for it was their own hair that had burned her—yet they would also risk Vela’s wrath, and flew with Rani again to the sun, where Nemek untied a single braid.”
Seri nodded. “The knot that covered his eye.”
“That was what Varrin had suggested they do. Enam should never be freed, but if even a portion of his power could peek through, that magic would be enough to warm the world without scorching it. And with her task done, Rani returned to him, and he wept to see what had happened to her hands. So he led her to Koth, and cared for her dragon using the knowledge he’d learned in the stables. And he forged her new fingers, using knowledge he’d learned in the mines. And he spoke with her, talking of all he’d learned while sweeping floors, and so as time passed, they pledged their love to each other—though