And Mather knew that was what had happened to his Thaw.
They had real weapons now; they had seen the reason for their training erupt before their eyes. This wasn’t some game they were playing to pass the time. This was the difference between a free kingdom and slavery, happiness and misery, life and death.
This was the future of their kingdom. The seven of them, barely more than children, with only enough training to defeat soldiers if they had the benefit of surprise and numbers.
But Spring had been defeated by such a small number—though the refugees in Winter’s nomadic camp had been populated with seasoned fighters, not teenagers.
There was no room for doubt. No room for worry.
Go.
They reached Rintiero a few hours before sunset, the seven of them flying off the boat in a swirl of white hair and desperation. The docks were mostly silent, boats bobbing lazily in the current, sailors tidying up their wares for the evening.
“Where do we go now?” Phil asked as the rest of the Thaw stretched and gawked at the city before them, their faces mixes of relief at being on solid ground and awe at being so far from home.
But Mather didn’t have it in him to stop and let them wonder. He nodded at Phil’s question and stomped down the dock, grabbing the first person he came across—a sailor winding rope up his arm.
“The Winter queen,” Mather snapped. “Is she here? Has anything happened to her?”
The sailor yelped at Mather’s fingers clenched around his forearm. “I . . . um . . . what? Who—”
Mather shook him.“Is the Winter queen here?”
“Y-yes!”
She’s here. She’s alive? Don’t lose focus. GO.
Mather gripped the man tighter. “Is she at the palace? Where is it?”
The sailor nodded, trembling as his eyes shot over Mather’s shoulder. The Thaw must be behind him, and Mather realized how odd this must look, a group of Winterians appearing on a dock and surrounding a poor Ventrallan sailor who probably was thinking of nothing but a mug of ale and a warm bed.
Mather released the man’s arm, took a step back, hands lifting in surrender. It took all his strength to do so, his drive togo, go, FIGHTwarring with his conviction not to unnecessarily terrify innocent people.
“I—I think so—” The sailor waved his hand toward the northwest. “The complex is that way—a forest, in the middle of the city—”
Mather clapped the man’s shoulder in an act of goodwill, but the motion made the sailor chirp and cover his head with his arms.
“Sorry. Thank you.” Mather took off at a sprint.
Everyone followed, Phil pushing forward to run alongside him. “He feared us.”
Mather spared a glance at him, some of his tension easing as his muscles, cramped after so long on the boat, stretched in the run. “Yes.”
Phil’s chest puffed out. “Never thought someone would feel intimidated byme.”
Mather cut down an alley, leading the Thaw northwest. “Could’ve been because we outnumbered him. Could’ve been because we surprised him. Or it could’ve been because he saw we were Winterians and expected retribution.”
Phil squinted at him. “Retribution? For what?”
For something Mather couldn’t bear to say out loud.For allowing our queen’s death on their soil.“He could’ve been lying about Meira.”
Phil swerved around a barrel in the middle of the cobblestone street as understanding washed over his pale skin. He didn’t say anything more, just pressed faster, Mather matching him.
They stopped once more to ask exact directions to the palace, which took them to a lush thicket of decorative forest. A few smaller roads wound out of the greenery with one large, ornate passage open at the front, but Mather pulled the Thaw away from the main entrance, opting for some sense of stealth. Who knew what waited for them behind that forest?
A path to the left seemed the most promising—narrow, for walking only, most likely a servant entrance. But as Mather angled toward it, Hollis caught his arm.
“My lord,” he whispered in a low growl, nodding to the right, where a slightly wider path darted out of the forest from farther behind the palace. Down that path moved acontingent of soldiers, dozens of them, all outfitted as if for war with weapons and armor and horses. Within the group rode a lone Ventrallan woman, her entire demeanor speaking of money and privilege.
