Ice Burns

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  Part II – The Journey

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  Part III: Meeting Destiny

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  Epilogue

  Ice Burns

  By Charity Ayres

  This novel is dedicated to so many people who will never realize that they impacted me and helped me become who I am. Some people who I hope know have impacted me, however, include:

  My parents: Mommy, you are the best mother I could have ever wished for; Daddy, I miss you more every day and hope you never doubted how much you meant and mean to me.

  My husband: Jason, thank you for understanding when I have work to do, bringing me coffee, and telling me you’re proud of me. I’m proud of you, too.

  My babygirl: I love you, Alexandria. Chase your dreams until you catch them.

  Taylor: Even when you don’t think you are, you’re still my daughter.

  My Writer’s Group Friends (IRL): Sarah, Fiona, and Andie - thank you for drinking coffee and spilling your guts so I wouldn’t feel so rotten when I had to spill mine or risk exploding.

  My online writer friends: Your support has been phenomenal. I never realized how great it could be to be part of a community of people who support each other.

  My students: For wanting to know what it is like to be a writer, letting me be my goofy self, and laughing at (most of) my bad jokes.

  Other Works by Charity Ayres Include:

  Prologue

  Prologue

  In a time when no one remembered, magic found its way into the world of humans. To say humanity was not ready for such an evolution was an understatement. Men were still animals with the basest of instincts. Magic changed some it touched but could not control the warlike spirit of others. In humankind, the magic took root for good or bad.Those poisoned by darkness tore and snapped at the good and kind, but eventually the just of the light triumphed, and their shadowed brethren were forgotten.

  Time continued for mortals; enough for them to forget that there ever was an evil that crawled across the lands other than the unholy actions of humankind. Peace held as much as was possible among the faulted two-legged race. It was not to last.

  It could have been foretold that the dark children would surface again from the shadows in which they were exiled. Perhaps it was a desire to rule the land of magic they had never forgotten. Perhaps they had decided the darkness was too small to hold them any longer. There was never the opportunity to ask nor the ability as no one had learned the language of the shadowed ones.

  When they came forth in a wave, a war arose and crashed onto the world of humans. Though the children of light were not as powerful as their dark siblings, the war raged for longer than most human minds are meant to fathom. Light and darkness continued to meet until eventually there was no more of either. Their magic was released once again into the world of humanity. Shadows were hidden in the heart of men while light lived in the beasts of the world, and none knew when darkness once again would rise.

  With the light scattered to various shells of animals, who would stand and face the horde of pitch power that would taste the air of the mortal world again?

  1

  Chandra woke with the feeling that hands were dragging nails through her lungs. She sat up and coughed, but the sensation persisted. It poked sharply at her eyes, filming them and causing her to tear. She tried to see, but the room was a dusty haze as though the kitchen workers had doused a fire with water. This smoke was less clean and smelled like burned food and wet wood.

  She crawled from her bed and fell to the floor, continuing to choke but finding some relief near the rough planks. Chandra lifted her head to below the fog that filled her room like low storm clouds. Her auburn hair clung to her face, and she raised one hand to brush it away, but the full, sleep-matted contents barely moved. Her hair stuck to her forehead and the back of her head where it had come undone from her long braid. Her hazel eyes wet with tears, drawing a line of moisture down her face as she struggled to recognize her surroundings. Chandra slid across the floor on her belly without direction. She tried to remember where she had landed and where the door was. Chandra felt the rough surface of the floor on her hands warm. A moment later, she found a low-lying crack on the wall and knew she had found the door. She ran shaking, slender fingers along the warm wood above the crack, tracing the etched wood to find the rising edge.

  Her one hand placed flat on the door told her she might not like what waited on the other side. It felt warm, as though it were a spot on the dinner table where a pot of stew had rested. Chandra pulled her hands into her sleeve and tucked her chin into her nightshirt until it pressed against her nose and mouth. A hesitant touch found that the doorknob was not as hot as she expected, but she still paused. Her mind conjured pictures of flames licking the floor and walls on the other side of the door, waiting to be let into her room so it could consume it and her.

  A shallow breath that ended in a cough made up her mind, and she turned the handle. The latch clicked, and the air pushed fiery breath against the new opening. The air huffed past for a moment, and Chandra dropped to the floor and did more of a slither than a crawl to exit her bedroom.

  The hall was chaotic with sounds of cries, movement, and a dull roaring that filled her ears with pressure and pounding. She fought the urge to stop and raise her hands to cover her ears and continued to push forward. Boots rushed past her, and she felt the smallest edge of tread stroke her cheekbone. She pushed forward without any idea where she was moving or if she was going in a direction away from the chaos. The noises came at her from all sides which only added bleary misdirection. Chandra knew she needed to escape the fire but wasn't sure about the best way to go about it.

  Ahead of Chandra and to the right, shouting echoed, loud and sharp. One sharp voice was too familiar to mistaken; it offered tentative security to her frazzled mind.

  "Move now or find yourself on the street in the morning," the deep voice said, cutting like glass without emotion in its silky edge. Master Dreys was somewhere ahead, calling out commands and taking control of the situation. In spite of the choking cloud, Chandra forced herself to her feet, instinctively knowing that crawling to Master would be a poor decision.

  “Master, I am here,” Chandra choked out.

  "Apprentice, you need to vacate the estate with the others. I will handle the fire, and whoever caused it," Master's voice was an unfriendly lash to Chandra's frayed nerves. He was not angry so much as he was very direct: Master was telling her there was nothing she could do since she had not yet lived up to the title of an apprentice. Chandra pushed forward and away from the smoke with her head down in shame and resentment more than to keep smoke from her lungs.

  Chandra knew she was important to him in a way that no other student could be, but had yet to earn her position in the Master’s keep. Despite being his apprentice, so named since he had taken her in as a baby, she could not successfully call her magic.Other students were nearby, battling the fire that seemed to have originate
d from the kitchen. She heard the young shouts and questions flowing around her. Mages of all levels were doing something useful while Master Dreys was instructing his apprentice to leave the building.

  "Master, I can help," Chandra tried again. She met a steely gaze that cut through the haze like a physical slap. Master's dark brown eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw an unfamiliar reaction before they softened and she lifted her chin.

  Master shook his head at her. “You are too valuable to risk. Exit the estate with Andre and stay away until I retrieve you.”

  Andre stepped forward, ashy and stiff-faced. Chandra looked at the man before bowing her head and taking his arm as he led her away from the building and toward the estate gardens. She assumed, from the sky-high flames and smoke, that the fire must be near the servants' door where the kitchen hearth and woodpile lay. That meant lots of fuel which could quickly create a blaze that would be almost impossible to control.

  As Andre steered her across the garden to a stone bench, she wondered if she would ever be able to stand at the Master's side as his apprentice. Chandra couldn't even do tricks to amuse the young children. Her power had only revealed itself a handful of times and in an erratic and mostly destructive manner. The first time, she had drawn fire to Master's sleeve instead of lighting a candle. The second time, she made a clay pitcher explode, or at least, they assumed it was her since no one else was trying to do any magic in the room. The other times were few and far between, most of which occurred when she was very young and almost nothing in the past two years. Chandra was almost the age of her power peak, but she had nothing to show for it.

  Chandra stood next to a cluster of trees in the southern part of the garden where young children and various elderly members of the estate staff waited. The giant building seemed to glow in opposition to the darkness. The smell of burning flavored the air with an acrid tinge that was oily and lingered.

  Chandra looked at the area around her and noted she was the only student either old enough or young enough to train. The children waiting were barely old enough to attend their own toilet and the elders probably couldn’t manage it anymore. Her face heated in a way that had nothing to do with the burning building, and her eyes were moist. She knew how she must look to them: her pale skin smudged with dirt that also stained her knees from crawling; her long brown braid loose from sleep and escape; hazel-green eyes full and wet with unshed tears. She took several steps away from the group to separate herself from them. She didn't want her height to announce her to other students as she towered over aged mages and children. Rage tickled at her insides, and she felt energized at the dark feeling of it. In her head, she swore and shot angry glances at the group near the estate.

  Chandra was the apprentice. She was the girl who had been in training since her first day with Master Dreys, so she had been told. He had found her on his doorstep, left there to be taken in or die. From the moment Master Dreys had seen her, he had declared her his future apprentice. Chandra was the one who would succeed him as eventual master of the estate and his heir-apparent. If her power came as it should, that would happen within the next year as she came of age. She was old enough to marry, have children, and almost be in full power. Unfortunately, none of that seemed to be in her future as even her position as the apprentice was in jeopardy.

  No one knew why Master had chosen her. At one point, when she was eight, she had asked.

  "I sensed in you, something special. I knew that it was you who belonged at my side as much as a hammer belongs beside a Smith." Chandra had smiled and went back to reading the books Master had given her. Her young mind tried to focus on the words in front of her, but couldn't let go of the idea that she was special. She wanted more, and her child's mind easily drifted and pulled toward impulsive behavior.

  "But what did..." she started, but Master raised one hand, open palm to command her silence. She felt his magic with a sharp jerk to her throat that made her gasp.

  "Questions are best kept for instructors or teaching oneself instead of looking for easy answers through a busy Master Magician," Master said, not looking up from the open book in front of him. "Off to class. I've no doubt Magician Beryl would be pleased to instruct you on the benefits of silent study."

  Chandra remembered how she had swallowed around the soreness in her throat as Master released her, gathered her books and left as silently as possible. Though the questions burned in her mind like a hundred match sticks, she focused on what Master had told her only once: he chose her. Chandra learned not to ask questions without invitation after a few times of that magic harness wrapped around her throat.

  Her training as Master's apprentice had never been easy. Chandra's magic was sporadic at best and poorly controlled. She often wondered if the Master had been tricked or mistaken. Had he sensed magic that wasn't Chandra's or had hers fizzled away? It was not unheard of for magic to leave a mage, though it usually was followed by insanity or death. Since Chandra was alive and as sane as she thought possible, it made her wonder what she was. She also secretly feared that Master would lose patience and reject or toss her out.

  A hissing sound began near the manor. It tore Chandra from her thoughts as some of the younger students shrieked. The breeze that had been a gentle flow, playing at the treetops from earlier in the day had grown to a tempest. Dead leaves and random bits of rubbish swirled and surrounded the manor like a tornado. The swirling wind pulled in upon itself and narrowed into a thin funnel that hovered over the well near the kitchens.

  Chandra knew then that it had to be magic. She moved closer to study the swirling eddy of the wind that was draining the cold water from the dark depths. A mist shimmered on the controlled maelstrom, making wet, hazy rainbows in the moonlight. Like a child, Chandra found herself mesmerized by the colors and gentle spray. The brush of cool water on her heated skin felt sensational, and she smiled as she stepped forward. She reached out her hand to the mist that curved and swayed like an elemental dance. When her hand touched the wet air, it wrapped around her fingers like a cold glove. Chandra smiled at the fresh, silky feeling, but the smile dropped quickly as the water became a vice.

  Chandra frowned and pulled her hand to move it from the gripping magical hurricane, but it wouldn't release her hand. Instead, it spread, crawling up her hand and wrist; wetting her sleeve and reaching further like a mindful sea creature intent on prey. The water was icy and smooth as silk, but it wrapped around her like heavy linen that would not yield. Chandra stared at the rising flow of water over her skin. She couldn't do anything but stare.

  The grip tightened and continued its mindful spreading up her arm. Chandra's fear grew thick in her lungs. Her breath came in gasps, and she began to jerk madly at the waving storm. Her hand became hot in the mist, and she saw a glow start in the eye of the funnel as fear clawed at her throat. Shock released her voice, and she tried to yell, but the watery edifice had reached her neck and was squeezing as it wrapped cold, lazy tendrils around her neck. Her hand burned in the center of the storm, and a voice behind her swore before something wedged between her hand and the hurricane of magic. When the grip cut suddenly, she fell to the ground, hard. Her side jarred, and her teeth hit painfully together before she gasped a lungful of smoky air. A moment later, the air in her lungs was expelled with force as an immense weight crashed into her and pressed her into the ground.

  "Stupid idiot," a soft male voice hissed in her ear. A moment later the weight was lifted from her. Chandra looked up through the stars in her vision at the lanky shadow over her. As her vision cleared further, and with the help of the streaks of moonlight, she saw the man who had been on top of her. Master Dreys' voice confirmed the identity at the same time Chandra's lips formed the name of her savior squisher.

  “Deakon! What have you done to my apprentice? Why are you on my estate despite having been banished?”

  Master's voice cut across the garden, barely preceding the sound of his quick, sharp steps on the flagstones. His fa
ce was smudged, and his hair was uncharacteristically unkempt, showing his active part in the battle against the fire. As usual, though, his robe was impeccable. It was as though he had freshly donned them instead of having worn them through a fierce blaze. The estate behind him smoked and hissed, but no fire raged, and the funnel of water had dissipated.

  Master lifted the young man and pushed him aside as though he were nothing more than yard rubbish. He reached down and pulled Chandra up quickly and shoved her behind him in a way that made her wonder if she, too, were rubbish.

  Chandra half fell against Andre. The Master's manservant helped her long enough to ensure that she wouldn't fall to the ground before letting go as though she burned him. She didn't miss the disgusted look he gave her before turning and walking away before she could thank him.

  Master Dreys stared down the young man as though Deakon were half the size of the lord of the estate instead of a head taller. To say Master's eyes burned would be like calling a candle an inferno. The ground around Master Dreys and Deakon shook, and the younger man struggled to stay on his feet. The young man had been Chandra's closest thing to a rival but had been dismissed from the estate almost a month ago. He had found his lack of apprentice status to be intolerable and had attempted to remedy the situation in a way that Master did not like. Chandra swallowed across the grating pain in her throat as she watched Deakon and wondered if this would be the moment that Master decided to open the ground and make his former student disappear.

  Chandra's winced at the thought. Her groggy mind pushed to catch up on the events of the evening, and she came to a realization: Deakon had been on top of her.

  "Answer quickly, but be warned that I have no patience left for lies," Master said. His voice was low-pitched and not unlike the rumbling of the ground around them. Chandra knew Master was showing his power. She bit her lip and wondered if it was more his anger at her stupidity or if he had given up on Deakon. The Master was easily powerful enough to open a hole big enough to swallow them all and close it again a heartbeat later. The memory must have dawned on Deakon as well because sweat trickled down his face and into his pale blue eyes. He raised his hands in front of him, palms out, before speaking.