The King of Winter

“Pen,” Cimber said, getting up on the balls of her feet to hiss in Penryn’s ear, “I know that man, I’ve seen him. The voices–”

“Welcome to the Winter Court, Lady Priestess.” The King said. His voice was like two glaciers crashing together, and Penryn shifted his weight forward into a fighting stance. That man sat on his throne like he was born to it. His knees were loose and he hooked an elbow on the arm of his chair and leaned into it. “You’ve already met three of my subjects. Tell me, what brings you here?”

Penryn drew his sword to his side. The proper thing to do would be to sheathe it, especially in the presence of a King, but he was having a hard time holding onto his etiquette lessons after everything they’d been through.

“Where are we? And who are you?” He asked, straining for civility.

The King’s gaze shifted to Penryn, and his expression visibly dimmed, like Penryn was a bug beneath his feet. His eyes were fever-yellow, and eerie enough they sent a shiver up Penryn’s spine.

“I think the correct question is who are you?” The man sneered, leaning forward on his throne. “But even that doesn’t really require an answer. We know what the prophecy foretold. So here, a better question: Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand, Usurper?”

Penryn’s sword went up and he scowled. What was this guy talking about? The King eyed his sword and laughed dismissively. Penryn bristled.

At his back, Cimber scrambled into action, no doubt spurred by the wave of violence that Penryn felt pulsing out of him.

“Um.” She said. Her voice came out scratchy, so she cleared her throat and tried again, “Excuse me, I think what my brother meant to say is, um, that we seem to be lost. Might we ask you for a place to spend the night?”

That wasn’t what he said at all, but Cimber’s hand on his arm was warning enough for him to bite his tongue. They were a team, he wouldn’t disagree with her in front of these strangers.

The King’s anger melted in an instant, like late spring snow. “For you, High Priestess, anything. You must have had a long and terrible journey. I’m eager to hear about it, and am so pleased to be here to greet you in your new form. We will provide you with whatever you need before you set out on the next phase of your travel.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m no High Priestess. You must have me confused. My brother and I are–”

“Oh no.” The King cut her off. He sounded smug, and Penryn wanted to wipe the smile off his face. “I’m quite certain of who you are. You appeared exactly as the prophecy said you would.

“Between the bones of a dead god,

The High Priestess will appear,

Usurper at her side.

Her mind will be clear with the truth,

Heart steadfast as the waves,

That crash upon the shore.

She will bring peace to the lands.

She will balance the unknowable forces.

She will voice the words of the Gods,

And free us from the shackles of demons.”

Penryn’s mind spun. An usurper? He wasn’t an usurper, if anyone was an usurper it was Kain, King of the Death Bringers, who’d laid waste to his Kingdom. He would never do that, not after what they’d been through.

“Those bones we were in…they were from a god?” Cimber asked, like it was urgent.

The King smiled lazily at her. “Of course. The bones of the Winter Kingdom’s God, Fatalis. He used to rule these lands, a giant Scythe-Tooth Tiger. He died long ago, leaving his skeleton behind to remind us of the power that used to walk these lands.”

“The Winter Kingdom? I’m not familiar with those lands. Where…where are we?” Cimber asked quietly. Hope guttered in her voice.

“Welcome to the Empire of Four Winds. We are a continent of four Kingdoms under the rule of our Empress, Garnet Livingstar, who resides in the Cut Gem Palace.”

Penryn exchanged a trepidatious look with his sister. He quirked an eyebrow at her, asking if she’d ever heard of this so-called empire. She pursed her lips and moved her head to the side in one small jerk. He huffed a short breath.

Did that mean that everything was well and truly lost? Had he utterly failed? Could Cimber re-summon her portal and send them back? She’d never taken them this far before. If she could, would it make a difference? He gritted his teeth and cleared the lump from his throat. Now wasn’t the time for that line of thinking.

The door to the Throne room crashed open, and a man strode in with arms extended. Despite his welcoming gesture, the smile on his face was a mirror of the King’s. The wolfish resemblance didn’t stop at his mouth–this man’s eyes glinted with the same sick yellowish light. Cimber and Penryn twisted to face this new visitor, and Penryn bristled as those eyes ran up and down Cimber’s frame. She pulled Penryn’s cloak around her, and the man marked that move too. His smile widened.

“Father! I hear the High Priestess has arrived. Is this the woman we’ve been waiting for?” The man said, making an elaborate bow in Cimber’s direction.

“High Priestess, meet my son, Lior. He is my eldest and is the Crown Prince of Winter and inheritor of the Bylur family name. I would be pleased if you would make his acquaintance.” The King announced.

Cimber hesitated, and then sank into a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you,” she said politely. She was graceful despite the stilted tone of voice that marked her discomfort. “I am Princess Cimber Adelain, of the Tovold Kingdom. This is my brother, the Crown Prince Penryn Adelain.”

Technically he was the King, even though they hadn’t done the official ceremony, but Penryn didn’t correct her. He hadn’t really been King long enough to make it count, and he didn’t feel like explaining how he’d won and lost his Kingdom all in the span of a few days.

Lior scratched his head. “The Tovold Kingdom? Never heard of it.”

“On the Dalmat Peninsula?” Cimber tried.

“Not one of our continents.” The King said, waving a hand. “But that doesn’t surprise me. All signs from the Gods pointed to a Priestess from another world.”

Cimber’s sharp intake of breath said it all. It was one thing to portal out of their Kingdom, but into a different world? She seemed to know as well as Penryn that the chances of seeing their Kingdom again were growing slimmer by the second.

Prince Lior seemed remarkably unconcerned by the distress his new High Priestess was demonstrating. He whistled lowly and propped his arms on his hips. “Wow, you really did come a long way, then.” To his father he asked: “When are we taking her to the Cut Gem Palace? I told Empress Livingstar we’d be the first to find our Priestess.”

He stood back to stare unabashedly at Cimber, like he was marvelling over their good fortune. “She’s pretty. Imagine her cleaned up, in a proper Winter dress. Hey, Priestess. What do the Gods say? Are they happy to have you in our Kingdom?”

Cimber slid a half-step back and to the side, taking advantage of Penryn’s bulk to hide. She was apparently done with diplomacy, and Penryn couldn’t blame her. These people were operating on some set of manners they didn’t understand, if they had manners at all. And if her voices were telling her anything, she wasn’t sharing it with the Prince.

“Lior, why don’t you take our lovely Priestess to our finest guest room? She seems tired.” The King suggested, waving meaningfully at Cimber.

“Of course, Father.” Lior said eagerly. He reached out to grab Cimber’s arm, and Penryn shoved her fully behind him and lifted his sword to its full reach fast enough to send the Prince reeling backwards with a little gasp of surprise.

It took a moment for the Prince to register what had happened. He’d ignored the sword before, but when confronted with the thing a look of disgust overtook his features. Fast and sudden as snow sliding off a rooftop, he tugged hard at the air.

A force Penryn couldn’t see ripped the sword from his grip and he gasped at the sudden loss. The Prince swiped again, an ugly grunt bursting out of him, and Penryn was flying sideways and crashing into a wall. His shoulder took the worst of it, and he groaned as he rolled over and tried to sit up. It felt dislocated.

Cimber was screaming, and she tried to run to Penryn’s side. The Prince caught her, and she beat at his arms violently as he hoisted her up and walked her backwards a few steps.

Penryn’s vision went red.

The war with the Death Bringers had been long and bloody, but not once had he ever let them near his sister. He might have been the sword, but she was the heart of their family. He’d have killed one of his own courtiers if they touched her like that.

With a mighty effort, he pushed to his feet and charged at the Prince. With his hands preoccupied with Cimber, the man couldn’t do much about Penryn’s charge. But the three men who’d transported them here moved to throw themselves in Penryn’s way. They seized his arms, a man on each side, and the third fastened himself around Penryn’s waist. He yelled as his shoulder erupted in a fresh blaze of pain.

“Pen!” Cimber screeched, sounding close to tears. She was kicking at the Prince’s legs now, but her captor was strong. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying her struggle.

Penryn took a wrenching step forward, and then another, dragging the men with him. He would get to her, he had to. She was his sister, the last of his family.

What he didn’t see coming was the frost that iced the floor, crawling around his boots and up his calves. He tried to pick up his foot, but found himself frozen to the ground. He struggled against the men and managed to cast one off and reach forward, hand out to Cimber but–

Frost crawled up his torso, and then he was frozen from the head down.

“That’s better. Sorry, Usurper, but you shan’t be victorious today. What do you think, Lior, should we kill him?” The King asked, voice lighter than the circumstances called for. Penryn tried to open his mouth, but found the frost had claimed that too.

“Let him go!” Cimber cried, heaving against the Prince’s chest. “You want me to be your High Priestess? I’ll do it, but only if you leave him alone. If you kill him, I’ll kill all of you and then myself and your High Priestess will be gone!”

“Oh dear, we can’t have that.” The King pouted. “Fine. To the dungeon, then. He can stay safely in my care whilst you fulfil your God-given purpose to save our Empire. Lior, see to the Priestess. I’ll take care of this.”

“You have my word, father. She’ll receive only the best the Winter Court has to offer.”

It was clear that despite her promise, Cimber wasn’t going to move on her own. She was straining against the Winter Prince, desperate to get to Penryn’s side. So, in one fell swoop, the Prince scooped Cimber up and dropped her over his shoulder. He settled a hand on the back of her thighs, staring at Penryn as he did it. Cimber kicked and hit and screeched at him, but he just smiled and tightened his grip.

The King ignored his son, keeping a watchful eye on Penryn. Cimber burst into angry sobs, and the Prince turned and left the Throne room without another word.

Penryn had no choice but to watch her go. When she was gone, the King released his hold on him. He was immediately shackled and led out of the throne room, down through the bowels of the Palace.

His sword was lost. His sister was gone. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Where had he gone so wrong? He stumbled over every uneven stone, bumped into every corner, and ignored every horrified gasp and stare he came across on his march to the dungeon. The people here looked much like their King. He noted sharp edges, dark hair, and yellow eyes, and then he stopped looking when he couldn’t bear the hatred on their faces anymore.

“Usurper,” the voices of the court hissed at him from the shadows.

Failure.

The word echoed in his head. That’s what he was. No usurper, no prince. Just a failure.

Later, when he was in his cell shivering so hard he could barely breathe, and his shoulder was aching fiercely, and he felt hunger sink its teeth in him, and he thought for the hundredth time of Cimber and where she was and what had happened to her, he wished with everything he had that he had died with Gallant on the battlefield.