“Does anything hurt?” she asked, brushing the silver hair away from tiny faces full of fear. “How long have you been hiding here?”
“Days,” the youngest whispered. He was a tiny, little thing, bundled up in ragged blankets with only his head poking through. Soot flecked across his ruddy cheeks, but he was not bleeding.
Reyna cupped his cheek with her palm. “I am so very sorry. No word has reached the castle of an attack or we would have come sooner. But my sister and I are here now, and we will get you to safety. Tell me your names.”
“I’m Aeron. That is my twin sister, Abria, and my eldest sister is named Arianna.”
“Are you Princess Reyna?” the eldest, Arianna, said. Slight and willowy with gleaming silver hair, she was the spitting image of a younger Glencora.
Reyna did not have it in her heart to correct the girl. She was no longer a princess, but there was no need to explain that to her now. “I am. And my sister, Princess Glencora, is here with me.”
As if summoned by her name, Glencora appeared in the blackened doorway, eyes wide. Wind whipped at her ice blue cloak. “You found survivors.”
Her words were laced with shock. Reyna could not blame her for that. The Ruin rarely left the living behind. In the past three villages that had fallen, not a single soul had been found. Only corpses.
“Come, Glencora,” Reyna said, standing and lifting Abria into her arms. “Help me get the children back to the castle.”
“I can walk myself,” said Arianna, lifting her chin. “I do not need to be carried.”
“Very well.” Reyna bit back a smile. She had seen what could happen to a child’s spirit when confronted by the Ruin. Her sister, Eislyn, had gone years without speaking before she recovered. Perhaps these lucky souls had not witnessed the gruesome deaths themselves. Hiding may have saved them, in more ways than one.
Glencora gathered Aeron into her arms, and together, the two sisters trekked through the village, rushing in the direction they had come. Reyna could not help but want to turn back and continue her search through the rubble. If these children had survived, perhaps others had as well.
“Glencora,” she said, as they reached the boundary of the village. Up ahead loomed the snow-blanketed Hoarfrost Forest through which they would find the Rowan Road that would take them back to their home in the Ice Court’s capitol city, Falias. “You are capable and strong. I am certain you can get the children safely back to the castle alone.”
A deep frown fell across her sister’s face. “In the name of the Dagda, I swear to you Reyna, do not do what I think you are about to do.”
Reyna gestured at the village where her snow owl still circled overhead, her heart torn at the thought of leaving any surviving low fae behind. “We have not searched the entire village.”
Glencora huffed as she moved the child from one hip to the next. “Honestly, Reyna, I cannot believe you are suggesting you will stay and continue the search alone. It is far too dangerous. What if the Ruin returns?”
“The Ruin has already done all the damage it can. It will not strike the same village twice. It never has before.”
“I cannot lie to you. I am fiercely against this decision. In fact, I refuse to return to the castle without you.”
“You must.” Reyna flicked her eyes down at the eldest child who was watching their exchange with increasingly frightened eyes. “The children must be taken to the castle at once. Alchemist Naal will need to ensure there are no hidden wounds or brewing illnesses.”
Glencora shook her head, her silver hair rippling in the winter wind. “One of these days, you will be the end of me, Reyna.”
Reyna’s heart ached at her sister’s words. Soon, Glencora would no longer have to deal with such a troublesome sister. Even as understanding as her family had been, Reyna knew her choice to become an unsworn Shieldmaiden had caused them nothing but strife.
With a huff of irritation, Glencora stepped across the boundary, still cradling the child in her arms.
“Do not go angry. Let me help you take them to the horses,” Reyna said just as her sister’s leather boots crunched snow.
Glencora screamed.
Her sister fell to her knees, her arms loosening their hold around the child. The snow blanketed their fall, but Glencora’s scream did not fail. Reyna’s heart pounded against her ribs as she wildly scanned the forest ahead for a hidden attacker. She had not seen an arrow whistle by, but ice fae often used small poison darts in stealth attacks such as this.
Reyna rushed toward her sister, and the blackened ground began to rumble. A wild wind whipped at her face. The snow suddenly ceased. The clouds overhead went black, their bellies heavy with darkness. Her footsteps slowed, her hand flying to clutch the brooch at her neck.
A rumble much like thunder rolled across the sky. The clouds flickered, their shadows cracking open to reveal a strange light hidden within just as dark flecks rained down like black snow.
Reyna’s heart pounded. She had seen this once before. Memories flooded her mind that she had tried so hard to bury deep inside. Her mother’s screams filled her ears, drowning out Glencora’s own cry for help. And then the forest began to hum, dragging Reyna out of her reverie. It was a strange, melancholy sound, one that made her ice dagger quake.
“Wingallock!” Reyna shouted. “Come!”
The children began to cry as Reyna dropped to her sister’s side. Her knees dug into the cold snow, but she did not feel the chill. Ice fae never did. Reyna gathered Glencora into her arms, pulling her head into her lap. Glencora stared up at the sky, horror flickering across her face. A few grains of black fell onto her face. Her eyes widened. And then a single fleck pierced her gaze.
Screaming, Glencora clawed at her eyes.
Reyna curled over her sister’s face, blocking the Ruin. She glanced up and caught the gaze of the children who had huddled together in the snow. They held their rags over their faces. The youngest boy cried.
“Don’t look up at the sky,” Reyna whispered to them. “Keep your eyes shut tight.”
The children squeezed their eyes shut, tears leaking down their cheeks.
Reyna reached back and flicked up her hood, shielding her own face from the onslaught of the Ruin. She twisted to Wingallock, who had settled on her shoulder, his claws piercing her skin. “Fly ahead. Warn Father.”
Wingallock gave a hoot and took off through a sky full of dark soot. She prayed to her forsaken god that the snow owl would make it out of the Ruin alive. Reyna did not know how she could survive without her familiar. Their souls were as linked as her heart to her veins.
Glencora still screamed, a high-pitched noise that cut through the terrible silence.
Reyna gave a whistle, and their two grey-speckled mares galloped out of the forest. She wrapped her arms tight around Glencora, shushing her screams. “Sister, listen to me. I’ve got you, but I need you to calm down. None of us will make it out of this alive unless you swear that you will trust me.”
Glencora’s sharp breaths shook her body, but she quieted and clung tightly to Reyna’s arms. With eyes wide and unseeing, she gave a quick nod. Reyna pulled her sister to her feet, thankful for her training. If she had not spent so much time wielding a sword, she would not be able to bear her sister’s weight, even as slight as she was. Slowly, she helped Glencora onto her horse’s back. All the while her sister was silent, her eyes shut tight.