Shadow Ice, The Darkling Chronicles #4

Copyright © 2016 by Tricia Zoeller

Smashwords Edition 2016

Shadow Ice, The Darkling Chronicles #4

Copyright © 2016 by Tricia Zoeller

Smashwords Edition 2016

Published by Blue Portal Press, LLC

http://www.triciazoeller.com/

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, institutions, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

Book Formatting by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats

Editing by Nancy S. Thompson

https://www.facebook.com/NancySThompsonAuthor

Cover Art by Robin Harper, Wicked By Design

https://www.facebook.com/WickedByDesignRobinHarper

Map by Jared Blando, TheRedEpic.com

http://www.theredepic.com/

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

MAP OF MONTENAI

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

GLOSSARY OF MONTENAI TERMS & CHARACTERS

CONTINUE READING…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For the outcasts and dreamers, be fearless.

A heartfelt thank you to these amazing people: editor, Nancy S. Thompson; cover artist, Robin Harper of Wicked by Design; cartographer, Jared Blando of TheRedEpic.com; and formatter, Angela McLaurin with Fictional Formats. Thank you for your patience and dedication.

My deepest gratitude to my superheroes (beta readers): Martina, Karen, Annalee, and Stacy.

Thanks for the support and inspiration: Alison and Michele.

Finally, to the readers—thanks for taking a chance and stepping through the portal!

THE FOG HAD lifted from the Ballatian Woods, unveiling the Faunlier Mountains and all of their secrets. The three guarding phantoms disappeared, exposing my home in the sea cliffs of the Aglatian Sea. My sister, Natcha, joined the darklings and dragon lords in Shadowland. I couldn’t think about her without a hard knot forming in my stomach.

The last time I saw her, she was trying to warn me, protect me, save me. I suppose, in her mind, I was a traitor. While she’d bled inside the Wishing Tree, I’d plucked the Torensphere from her and the dragon lords who had been guarding it for a century. It was a crappy thing to do, yet the boldest thing I’d ever accomplished in my life.

The powerful dragon egg had worked in harmony with the three dragon lords, Akton, Leasith, and Bulosk, to strengthen Shadowland. But life changed when Lord Akton’s behavior turned erratic, dangerous. The resulting imbalance caused darklings to fall ill with a sickness called Shadow Fever.

Akton’s death over the winter shook the foundation of darkling life. The loss reverberated across the river in Kirka Village and down south in the satyrs’ Port by the Sea.

Lord Akton had been the epitome of strength and longevity. Without him and the dragon egg as the center of Shadowland, Montenaians would have to change their thinking about everything they knew to be true.

I hate this swamp, the Torensphere said in my mind.

The force of the creature’s interruption caused me to shake my head, attempt to alleviate the sensation of falling. I’m sorry, but this is the most remote place I could think of for us to hide.

We were trespassing in satyr territory. Cypress trees stood, naked giants, skulking over the rank swamp. For me, each water source in Montenai had a particular tone, note, and scale. The bog produced a mournful tone, playing the same notes repeatedly, as if stuck. Understanding the water’s music, helped me control it, to an extent.

To be honest, I had no more control over my water energy than I did the cranky, unhatched dragon. He’d been incubating in one of the caves by the Aglatian Sea before I moved him to the satyrs’ delta. Fog stretched wide its cloak here, but I could still make out the hollow in the cypress tree thirty feet in the air where my new companion rested.

My hand smoothed down my skirt, now stiff from a thin crust of mud. I attempted to remove the black slime from under my nails. It had me questioning myself for the hundredth time. By nature, I’m a cold, weak creature. Natcha had always told me I had an amazing gift in my ability to control water and utilize its energy.

How is something a gift if it can kill me? How could I ever hope to make it alone?

Have faith, Ice Queen. Your difference from the others is your gift.

I’d been able to communicate with Natcha telepathically. The Torensphere communicated in this manner, as well. Blocking him out took every bit of my energy, which meant, my ice threatened to claim me. Without my sister’s dragonish heat, I was at the mercy of the primordial beast inside the kaleidoscope shell. Without his heat, my body temperature would plummet and my breathing become difficult. It was a battle I’d fought since I was a baby. In fact, I’d been blue and almost dead when Natcha had found me abandoned on the riverbank as an infant.

The knot tightened in my stomach. My sister had been my whole life. In twenty years, I’d had interaction with one satyr. The rest of the time, I’d spent cloaked in her protective shadows. Now, all of Montenai knew of me. Exposed, yet hidden. It was the most unnerving feeling. My thoughts ran dark and negative. I couldn’t be certain I wasn’t losing my mind. I’d chosen the Torensphere as my only companion—a creature known to have blinded a nymph and possibly played a hand in the great dragon lord’s death.

My faith in Adah, the Mother of Montenai, guided me. What kind of navigator was she?

MY ICE TINGLED at my toes, doubt trying to take hold of me. I shut it out just as I had my sister.

I mmmust g-g-go eat. I’ll be back, I said.

After leaving the Torensphere in the delta, I emerged in a secluded inlet, closer to the Montenai River. Despite traveling through water molecules, my dark sweater and skirt were dry when I reached my fishing spot. Muck squelched under my boots. For four weeks, I’d been in this swamp. I still wasn’t used to the noxious smell or the squish underfoot.

A promise of spring stirred up warm winds, and the fish surfaced to feed, and in turn, fed me. Raw fish didn’t make the most appetizing breakfast, but I avoided making fires during the day for fear of giving away my location.

A twig snapped nearby, bringing my head up.

Don’t move.

My body tensed. How had I missed him? Where there was wind, there were satyrs. My eyes roved to the left. I itched to call to water. Since I assumed I was public enemy number one in these parts, I expected to find an arrow nocked and pointed my way. Instead, the satyr’s stern eyes were familiar. I stilled.

L-Lucas J-Jeremiah of the Far-d-doragh Herd, I said in an authoritative voice, modeled after his own.

Not anymore, Luke said with a grimace.

With his hulking form, he didn’t look like much could hurt him, but my words had definitely struck a blow.

His father, Cornelius, had brought supplies into the Ballatian Woods for my sister and me from the time I was just a hatchling. The head buck couldn’t see us because of Natcha’s cloaking magic and the three phantoms guarding us, but still, he came with milk, beautiful clothes, and books.

I knew only a nurturing and gentle head satyr. But I imagined Lucas had met a different side of his father after he sabotaged the Torensphere’s safe return to Shadowland. He’d stirred the winds and confused the situation when my dragon-darkling sister faced off against the lords and Magda, the nymph mother.

If Luke was this far away from Port by the Sea…

Banished, he said. His goatee trembled with a nervous twitch of his jaw. By my father.

He wasn’t part of the herd anymore. My mouth went dry. Dear Adah, I hope I’m not the reason. I’d met him once on the beach in Port by the Sea. He’d warned me of the Torensphere’s power and told me how the creature had blinded his mate.

Luke? A petite nymph entered the clearing, led by a little red fox. Steady, Askutu, the nymph said to the creature.

The fox’s unwavering, amber gaze spooked me. The nymph’s ivory skin glowed in the sunlight. The wind whipped her blue dress around her statuesque figure and caused her blond ringlets to take flight.

Luke drove the winds around me in a chaotic pattern, swirling my own fair hair into my face. I must have looked confused.

I’m just trying to throw off your powerful friend for a moment so Korena may have some time alone to talk to you.

You must be the elusive Ice Queen, Korena said.

How did she know the Torensphere’s name for me? I took a step closer. I hated the nickname, and it felt even more degrading coming from her lips.

Luke moved into place between us. His eyes held rectangular pupils and irises more amber than brown. I could still see her several yards behind him, but his intention was quite clear—I would have to get through him to do any harm to her.

The sun’s rays struck the cypress trees, causing them to weep large tears on and around the nymph. Droplets clung to lush lashes that fringed her jewel-blue eyes. My gaze locked on her flat stare.

It was one thing to be told something; it was another to see it up close. So young, and yet, she couldn’t see. I wondered if she’d lost her ability to cast reflections or coerce the plants around her as all the nymphs could. Luke’s motive for defying his father slapped me in the face. I also understood why Magda worked both sides the night Natcha attempted to return the egg to the lords. The Torensphere had a healing ability, which was the reason Natcha had first taken the incubating dragon from Shadowland—to save my life. The egg had nurtured me in my darkest hour, brought me back to life. But I couldn’t come to grips with what he’d done to Korena.

"Don’t pity me. I lost my sight, but now I can see," she said, her voice trembling.

Don’t let her leave. The Torensphere broke into my head.

The ice I’d felt since I was a child chilled my core and coursed through my veins. Goosebumps covered my body. I even felt them on my scalp as an insufferable itching. The satyr and nymph were outcasts, no longer active members of Kirka Village or Port by the Sea. How much of a threat could they be?

They say she raised you, Korena said, undaunted by my silence. Perhaps, Luke had told her I stuttered, and she assumed I was self-conscious.

I bristled, not sure if she was referring to the phantom, Serena, or my sister, Natcha. Her face remained placid. I tried to hide the conflict warring inside me and the fact a creature was calling for her head.

The dragon lords have mended your sister’s wing.

The pure love I’d felt for my sister would not sway me from my course. I remained still and unyielding.

Don’t worry. I’m on your side, she said. Why else do you think I had Luke stir the winds that night?

Ssso y-your mmmother could retrieve the T-T-Torensphere and harness its p-p-power for the nymphs. My ice made its presence known as hundreds of needles pricking my arm.

Try again, Luke said, shifting his hooves.

Ssso you c-c-could use its healing properties to sssee again.

That was Magda’s intention, Luke said. She wanted to cure her daughter and assumed the dragon lords’ repossession of the egg would make everything right. But think about it. If something blinded you, would you ever trust it again?

A headache struck so sharp at my temple, I winced. The Torensphere flashed images of Korena attempting to drown him in water. I closed my eyes, hoping to shut out the pain. The egg’s power filled me and brought my ice alive to the point it took my breath.

Opening my eyes, I extended my hands toward the water droplets hanging from the branches above Korena.

You can use them to form an icy mask over the nymph’s face and finish her.

Energy surged through me as I listened to the Torensphere’s ideas of what to do with the nosy nymph. They threatened to become my own thoughts. I fought him because I knew his darkness would tarnish my soul.

Easy, now, Korena said.

Luke stepped closer and rested his hand on a leather scabbard at his furry hip. Remember, Nalene, power always demands something in return.

Although Korena had sensed my hostility, she hadn’t moved an inch. Stay away from Natcha and stay away from the darklings, she warned.

My heart hammered inside my ribcage. The others wanted the Torensphere for their own survival. She wanted me to have it, even acting against her mother and the satyr leader. I had no clue of her motives. My reasons weren’t selfish, although, I figured all Montenaians probably thought they were.

My breathing became so ragged from fighting the Torensphere, I worried I would pass out. I touched the stone necklace I always wore. Natcha’s claws had carved each exquisite bead. She’d used the stalactites of our cave as her material. By infusing the stones with my magic, I always held some water energy in reserve and could use it to travel, as I prepared to do now.

You’ll have to face the storm, Korena called, her voice cutting through the energy’s hum.

I left her behind and arrived in the bleak swamp feeling drained, cold, and alone. The sun disappeared, and rain fell, as if mimicking my mood.