Frost (9 page)

And there, at the edge of the map, was a smudged scrawl. I tipped my head to read it better.

Echo.

Strange. I’d never heard of such a place before.

The Mayor noticed me looked and casually brushed a few of his other papers over the map. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“No,” I said faintly, my head swimming as I struggled to make sense of what I’d seen. “I mean, yes. The Farthers...” I put my hand into my pocket, my fingers brushing the metal bit that I’d put there, and I broke off.

“Farthers?” he repeated.

Suddenly the air in the room was too thin, too cold. I struggled to breathe.

The Mayor hesitated. “One more thing, Lia. You’re a smart, good girl and I know I can trust you with this information.”

My mouth grew dry as I waited for him to continue.

“There is rumor of a Farther in the Frost. A criminal.”

“A...criminal?” I whispered.

He could only mean Gabe. I knew it at once, and I felt like I’d been submerged in ice water.

“Yes. He is roaming the Frost in search of money to steal or children to kidnap. He’s armed and dangerous, and he could kill you on sight. If you see or hear anything, you be sure to report it to me right away.”

I just nodded. My stomach was sick. Half of me was screaming to tell him, and the other half was screaming for me to keep silent. He’d just flat-out told me to tell him about the Farther, and yet...the story was all wrong. Gabe wasn’t armed. He wasn’t acting like a thief. He was injured, frightened.

He was acting like a fugitive.

Something was wrong here.

“How did you hear about this criminal?” I asked.

The Mayor’s gaze sharpened. He didn’t answer for a long moment, and sweat broke out across my back as he sat there and looked at me.

“How is your family?” he asked at last, instead of replying to my question. “Your sister, your brother—they are in good health?”

I recognized the threat for what it was. I was not supposed to ask questions.

“They are doing well,” I said, and thankfully my voice came out even. Maybe too even.

He lifted one eyebrow. “Good.”

I sat there. He was still for a long moment, holding me prisoner with his gaze, and then he smiled ever so slightly and folded his hands.

“Is there anything else you needed, Lia?”

I shook my head. I kept my mouth shut because I was afraid what I’d say if I didn’t.

“Hilda can see you out, then.” He rang a bell, and the maid reappeared.

I followed her to the door, my feet dragging and my mind swirling.

What had just happened in there? Had he
threatened
me?

“Lia!”

I turned just in time to be assaulted by a whirl of arm, bows, and skirts. Ann hugged me tight, whispering in my ear. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to speak to your father,” I said. I’d forgotten I might see her here. It was her house, after all.

“My father? Whatever for, you silly goose?”

“Nothing important,” I hedged, but she was already talking over me.

“Well, it’s perfect timing. You can try on that dress for the social that I promised you could borrow.”

“Oh—”

She grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hall to her bedroom, and my mouth dropped open for what seemed like the twentieth time that day as I took it in. She had a bed that would sleep five people, piled with blankets and fluffy pillows. Lacy curtains framed a giant window of yellow and green stained glass. A chandelier sparkled over her dresser, which was crowded with ribbons and powders.

“Here it is,” she said, going to the closet and pulling a lace-covered confection.

“I, uh, oh.” I was halfway to speechless. The terror of the interview with her father fell away momentarily as I gazed at what she offered me.

The dress was soft blue, the color of snow blossoms and clear skies. Glass beads winked like jewels at the neckline and waist. A wide satin sash cinched the waist.

“What do you think?” Ann held it up to herself to demonstrate the length. She smoothed a hand over the lace and then grinned at me. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe you’re not wearing it,” I said. She wanted to let me borrow this beautiful thing?

Ann shook her head, her long curls rustling over her shoulders with the graceful movement. “No, I wore it a month ago at—” She hesitated, biting her lip. She looked away from me as she spoke. “I wore it at a party.”

I wondered why she’d stopped herself from telling me where she’d worn it. Did she think my feelings would be hurt because I hadn’t been invited? But Ann was already talking again. “Don’t worry about me. I’m wearing my newest dress. It’s going to go perfectly with my new hair ribbons, look...”

Her dress was beautiful, of course, although I preferred the blue one. I drifted over and let my fingers slide across the fabric while she chattered about how she planned to style her hair.

My thoughts returned to what I’d overheard her father saying while I stood outside his office. Why had he been talking about my parents? Who had he been speaking to? The room had been empty when I’d entered.

Ann was looking at me with her eyebrows raised. She must have asked a question.

“I’m sorry, Ann. My mind was wandering.” Guilt swept over me as I admitted it. I was a bad friend—feeling suspicious of her father, not listening to her when she talked. And she was letting me borrow a dress, too. Heat flooded my cheeks.

“It’s fine,” Ann said, smiling with just the corners of her mouth. “I just asked if you were all right with all the talk of Watchers. Your house is so far out from the rest of the village...”

I gave in and finally told her about the tracks I’d seen. Her mouth formed a perfect O as she listened, and she put her hands to her cheeks.

When I’d finished, she sighed. “I would have died of fright. Lia Weaver, you are the bravest person I know.”

Not really brave, I realized, so much as desperate. See, you can’t be quite as scared when you have no other choice, because there’s nothing between you and the worst except your own stubborn tenacity. But I just shrugged. Ann was my friend and had been so since our days in the village schoolhouse, but there were things we didn’t say to each other. The difference in our life situations was one of those things.

“Anyway,” Ann said, “let me just wrap this up so you can take it with you.”

“Thanks, Ann,” I said, and I really meant it.

She looked at me, hesitating, and I got the impression she wanted to tell me something. The silence stretched too long between us, turning awkward, and we both fumbled for something to say.

“I’ll see you at Assembly,” Ann said finally, with a quirk of her eyebrows that clearly said
come to Assembly
. And I laughed, because that was Ann—always getting onto everyone and making sure they dotted their i’s and crossed their t’s.

“I’ll be there,” I promised her, meaning it.

She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

When I left the Mayor’s house, I went straight to the creek at the edge of the village and tossed the bit of metal into it.

I didn’t know what it was, but I had a bad feeling about it and I didn’t want to keep it.

Turning away, I headed back down the path for the farm.

“WHERE HAVE YOU been?” Ivy demanded as soon I stepped through the door. “The day is half gone, and we’ve been slaving over quota while you run around getting...is that a
dress
?”

I took quick stock of the room—Ivy had risen from her chair by the fire. Gabe was still in his nest of blankets, his shoulder and back swathed in bandages, but he was sitting up and I noticed he had a pile of half-twisted yarn in his lap. He wasn’t looking at me, but I could tell by the way he’d tensed his shoulders that he was very aware that I’d entered the room.

“Where’s Jonn?” I asked. His chair was empty.

“He isn’t feeling well, so he went to lie down.” Ivy made a beeline to my side and tugged the dress from my arms. She held it up to the light. “Where did you get this? It’s beautiful.”

She said the word
beautiful
like an accusation.

I brushed past her for the kitchen. “From Ann.”

Ivy ran her fingers over the lace, her mouth forming words that she didn’t speak. It was rare that any of us touched such fine things.

I pulled the now-withered snow blossoms from my hair and let them drop to the floor before lifting the jug of milk from the windowsill where it kept cold and taking a long drink. Milk always made me feel fortified—our mother had always chuckled at my tendency to take a swig or two in preparation for something difficult. It wasn’t exactly brandy, but it was what I did.

Ivy’s sharp gaze didn’t miss my actions. She followed me into the kitchen. “You went to see the Mayor, didn’t you?”

I went past her into the main room again, heading straight for Gabe. I stopped in front of him and folded my arms. The Mayor’s words echoed through my head.
Dangerous. Criminal.

It was time the Farther and I had a chat.

“You’re telling me everything. Now.”

He took his time responding, like he was deliberately trying to make a point by making me wait. I tapped my foot. Finally he raised his head, and those ice-blue eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

“Why should I tell you anything?”

His words were belligerent, but he was stalling, bluffing. His hands trembled a little as he adjusted the blanket over himself.

I crouched down so that we were nose to nose. “Because I dragged you out of the Watcher-infested woods, cleaned your wounds, and nursed your fever. Because I’m currently lying to the Mayor of our village about your existence, at least by omission, not to mention by harboring you I’m putting my own family in jeopardy. And because I think I deserve to know. Should I keep going?”

“You lied to the Mayor?” Ivy squeaked from behind me.

I waved a hand at her to be quiet.

Gabe swallowed hard. “In my country, people could be killed for knowing the wrong things,” he whispered.

“Here, not knowing is more likely to get you killed,” I said. “So tell me.”

He nodded slowly.

“Let’s start with what the Mayor said.” I sat down in the chair across from him and folded my arms. “He said you were dangerous. He said you were a criminal.”

Gabe was still. His gaze shifted from mine to the wall above my head, like he was steeling himself for an unpleasant topic. “And did you believe him?”

“I don’t know.
Are
you a criminal?”

His chest rose and fell as he took a breath. He stared at his fingers, and his jaw flexed as he considered his words. “I’m sure that’s what they are calling me.”

“
They
?”

“The soldiers looking for me.”

I inhaled. I’d seen all the signs—he was wounded, he was frightened, he’d accused me of wanting to turn him in. But here it was, laid out starkly for me. “You’re a fugitive, then.”

“Yes,” he said simply.

I waited for him to offer more. He flexed his fingers, not meeting my eyes. “What do you know about my country, Aeralis?”

“It is south of here,” I said, searching my memory for every detail I knew. “You have inventions that we do not—airships, lamps lit by gas, instruments that play music without anyone touching them.”

“What else?” he pressed. “What do you know of our political situation?”

I hesitated. I’d heard more, but I felt awkward bringing up the horror stories. How did I tell him that we considered his people cruel and sadistic? I tried to speak the words without inflection. “I—I’ve seen the soldiers pass by on the border roads with convoys of prisoners.”

He lowered his head. “I was on one of those convoys. I was a prisoner.”

Silence descended over us like a spell. I remembered the people I’d seen on the roads that skirted the Frost. In my mind’s eye I saw their faces, haggard and gaunt. Their hollow gazes. Suddenly I wanted to jump up and clap my fingers over Ivy’s ears so she wouldn’t hear the grim story I knew he was about to tell us. But I couldn’t move.

“I lived in our capital city, Astralux. There has been much unrest there—our new leader, Merris, took power without bloodshed, but he has been keeping it through violence and suppression. My family…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “We did not support his rise to power. His spies watched us, followed us, threatened us. And then one night they took me.”

He paused, staring into space as if reliving the experience in his mind. “I was at a party and they came. They surrounded me, dragged me out. I was not allowed to say goodbye. I had no trial. Nothing. I was imprisoned.” He paused, glancing at Ivy. In a lowered voice, he said, “They cut off the ends of my cell mate’s fingers. I thought…I
feared
what they might do to me, too.”

My mouth went dry as I remembered his delirious pleadings when he’d been sick, and how he’d screamed and entreated his invisible tormentors not to kill his family. Shudders crawled across my skin.

“I was prepared to tell them anything they wanted to know, but they didn’t ask any questions.” He looked disgusted with himself. “I didn’t want to be tortured. I was a coward.”

“No,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. Would I behave differently in the same situation?

Gabe shook his head, but he didn’t argue with me. He continued the story. “After days of waiting, pleading, the jailers came. Stupidly, I thought I was delivered. But then they put me on the back of a wagon with others—other prisoners—and took us away.”

“Where?” Ivy burst out.

I wanted to tell her to go outside, but I didn’t speak. I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt him.

“I heard one of the soldiers say they were taking us west.”

Her eyes widened.

West
. Chills rippled over my skin. I’d heard rumors about places where the prisoners were as thin as skeletons and the never-ending smoke smudged the horizon. It was far from our village, at the place where the snow began to thaw. There was nothing but mud and sickness.

Gabe took a deep breath. “We made camp along the road during the night. They chained us up like dogs because the other prisoners were resisting...they were afraid of being eaten by monsters from the forest. We’d all heard the stories, although the soldiers said the creatures wouldn’t come as far as the roads.”