FROSTBLOOD

FROSTBLOOD
ELLY BLAKE
First published in 2017 by Little, Brown and Company

A divison of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
First published in Great Britain in 2017 by

An Hachette UK company
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Copyright Elly Blake 2017
The right of Elly Blake to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted
by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior
written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of
binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance

to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978 1 473 63517 3
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on e
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I offered my hand to the fire.
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Sparks leaped from the hearth and settled onto my fingers,
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heat drawn to heat, and glittered like molten gems against my
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skin. With my free hand, I pulled a bucket of melting snow closer
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and edged forward on my knees, ready to douse myself if the
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sparks flared into something much larger.
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Which is exactly what I intended.
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Winter solstice was six weeks away, but my village, high in
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the mountains, was already blanketed with a thick layer of snow.
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Grandmother used to say that the true test of a Firebloods gift
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was in the cold. But she died before she could show me more
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than the most rudimentary of lessons, and Mother had made me
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promise never to practice at all.
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It was a promise I couldnt keep. If the kings soldiers discov

ered me, wasnt it better to know how to wield my heat?
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I closed my eyes and focused on my heart, willing the gather
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ing warmth to surge upward and out the way Grandmother had
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taught me. If I did it right, the bright sparks on my hand would
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burst into tiny flames.
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Come on, little wisp, where are you?
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After years of being told to tamp down my fire, keep it hid
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den, make it invisible, I struggled each time I tried to find it.
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But there it was, a small, churning tendril. I coaxed it forward, a
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reluctant thread that grew a little, then a little more.
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Thats it. I held my breath, afraid to break the spell.
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A gust of frigid air whipped my hair across my face. The
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sparks on my fingers died, and the wisp darted back into my
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heart.
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Mother slammed the door and shoved the quilt back against
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the crack at the bottom, a deep shiver shaking her fine-boned
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frame under her cloak. Its wicked out there. Im chilled to the
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bone.
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Seeing her tremble, I finally scooted to the side, revealing the

hearth. I thought you were delivering a baby.
It wasnt time yet. Her eyes widened at the tall flames, then
narrowed.
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I shrugged, my excitement wilting. It was so cold.
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Ruby, you were practicing. The tone of disappointment was
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familiar. If even one person sees what youre doing, just one, they
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could alert the kings soldiers. With the summer being so wet,
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and the grains running out, people will do anything to survive,
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including taking a r eward
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I know. You dont have to tell me again.
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Then why are you doing this? Its bad enough when youre
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not trying to use your gift. She waved her hand at a pile of
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half-burned rags. Scorch marks still stained the floor.
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My cheeks warmed. Im sorry I lost my temper the other day.

Again. But tonight I could almost control the flame.
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She shook her head in a tense movement that told me there
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was no use pleading. I wrapped my arms around myself and
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rocked gently. Finally, her w

ind-chapped fingers reached out
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slowly to take a lock of my hair, which she always said was lucky
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to be black and not red like some Firebloods. My skin might be
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a little too s un-k issed for a child of the North, but people didnt
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look closely in this sleepy village, where no one had powers, frost
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or fire.
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I understand that your gift is a part of you, she said softly.
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But I lie awake at night worrying. How can we keep your secret
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if you insist on using your fire, even when you know it can spiral
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out of control?
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It was the same question shed asked over and over during the
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past few months, when Id decided to start practicing my gift.
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And I replied with the same answer. How will I learn to control
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it if I never use it? And if were not safe here, why dont we go
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somewhere safe?
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Not that again. You know wed never make it to the border,
and even if we did, wed be on the front lines.
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The coast
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Is heavily guarded now.
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We should have left years ago, I said bitterly. We should
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live in Sudesia with the rest of our people.
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She looked away. Well, were here now, and theres no sense
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wishing for what isnt. She let out a deep sigh as she caught sight
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of the depleted pile of kindling. Ruby, did you really need to use
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half our store of firewood?
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I swallowed past the guilt. I wont add any more logs to the
fire.
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When it burns down, well freeze.
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Ill keep you warm. You can sleep right next to me. I pat
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ted my mattress, which Id pulled close to the hearth, just out of
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range of stray sparks.
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Her gaze softened, a smile tugging at her lips. Youre better
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than any fire. You never burn me, even if I roll too close.
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Exactly. A Fireblood daughter can be very useful.
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She gave a bark of laughter and my heart lightened. I am
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gratefulbelieve me. She pulled me into a tight hug, gasping
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and laughing as she felt the sting of heat coming from me in
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waves. Its like holding a cooked chicken. I think youd better
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take a walk to cool off. See if you can find some more kindling to
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replace the lot you used up.
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I pressed through drifts, the snow hissing as it melted against
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my shins above my boots. The wind howled from the southwest,
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yanking the hood from my head and raking through my hair
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with pine-scented fingers. The air was bitter, but my skin was still
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hotter than normal after practicing my gift. Mother had said to
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gather firewood and bring it home, but she also wanted me to
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calm down. Surely it was better to expel some of this heat out
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here, where it was safe?
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I had done it before, sneaked out late at night into the deso
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late, s now-draped woods, my hands thrust into a hastily built fire
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as I willed myself to control the flames. All Id managed to do
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was singe the edges of my cloak.
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I gathered a bundle of small sticks, holding them tightly. The
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forest held its breath, eerily silent but for the rustle of wind in the
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treetops. Although I knew no one ever came here, I still looked
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around furtively, my heart beating thickly in my ears. Closing
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my eyes, I searched for the little wisp of flame Id found earlier.
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The sticks grew hot in my hands, and I held my breath, hoping
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they would burst into flame.
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The wind changed direction, barreling in from the north and
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carrying the dregs of a wet winter storm. I shivered and clutched
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the sticks tighter, struggling against the cold seeping into my
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pores and leaching the heat from my body.
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Suddenly, the distant sounds of footsteps echoed through the

woods.
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I dropped the sticks and clambered onto a rock, knocking
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snow from it in heavy clumps. To the northwest, the path veered
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down into a gulley, where an overhang protected it from snow.
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In a few seconds, I would see whoever approached without being
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seen myself.
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First a hood came into view; then a metal helm flashing
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between tree trunks washed gray under a steel sky. The blue of
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the mens tunics shot startling color into the starkly white scene.
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Soldiers, breaking the quiet with their heavy, crackling steps

and ringing voices.
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Blood rushed to my heart, fear blossoming into heat.
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Id been warned a thousand times about the kings soldiers,
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but Id always told myself we were too high in the mountains,
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too insignificant to warrant their search for Firebloods. I hoped
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they were just passing through on their way over the mountains
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from the barren North. But our hut was right along the path they
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were following. They could easily stop to raid our larder or use
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our hut for the night. We couldnt risk them getting too near me,
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feeling the heat of my skin.
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I slid off the rock and shot toward home, my shuddering
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breaths whisper-quiet as I scraped past trees and bushes, using
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undergrowth and my knowledge of the bend of the land as cover.
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When I reached our hut, Mother was sitting by the fire, her
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long braid hanging over the back of the w

oven-bark chair.
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Soldiers, I said, rushing to grab her thick cloak, still dry
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ing by the fire, and shoving it at her. In the woods. If they stop
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here...
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Mother gaped at me for a moment before launching into
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action. She grabbed a rag and packed up some dry cheese and
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bread, then stumbled to the scarred wooden table, where healing
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plants dried in the warmth of the fire. Wed spent hours gather
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ing the precious herbs, and neither of us could bear to leave them.
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We packed them as quickly as we could, folding them into scraps
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of fabric tied with frantic fingers.
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The herbs were swept from the table by the wind as the door
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crashed against the wall. Two men emerged from the snowy
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darkness, their blue vests each emblazoned with a white arrow.
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Wheres the Fireblood? The soldiers small eyes moved from
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Mother to me.
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Were healers. Hearing the tremble of fear under Mothers

bravado made my legs weak.
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With long strides, one of the men cornered me and grabbed
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my arms. My throat convulsed at the sharp reek of old sweat
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and foul breath. His cold hand slid to my neck. I wanted to turn
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my head and bite his wrist, hit him, rake him with my nails,
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anything to get his hand off me, but the sword at his side held
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me still.
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Her skin is burning hot, he said with a curl of his lip.
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She has a fever, Mother said, her voice desperate.
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I took a deep, shuddering breath. Hide your heat. Push it
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down. Calm yourself.
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Youll catch my fever, I said, trying to keep the tremble out

of my voice.
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I cant catch whats wrong with you. He pulled me toward
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the door, his hand tight on my arm. I struggled wildly, trying to
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twist out of his grasp and kicked over a bucket of red berries I had
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gathered before the recent snow. They spilled across the floor like
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drops of blood, crushed under his boots as he pulled me out into
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the moonlight.
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Pressure grew in my chest. It was as if the fire in the hearth
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had crawled into my rib cage and wanted out. Grandmother had
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described the sensation, but Id never felt it like this. It stung and
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burned and pressed against my ribs from the inside. It made me
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want to rip off my skin just to let it free.
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The ache grew until I thought it might kill me. I screamed
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and a swathe of stinging hot air surrounded me, covering my
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attacker. He let go and fell to the ground, howling in pain.
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I scrambled into the hut where Mother struggled with the
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other soldier as he pulled her toward the door. I grabbed a log
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from the woodpile and brought it down hard on the back of his
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head. He pitched to the side and lay still.
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I took Mothers hand, and we stumbled out the door and into
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the night. The soldier I had burned was still on his hands and
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knees, pressing snow to his face.
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We moved as fast as we could through the thick drifts, away
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from our hut, away from the place that had always been warmth
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and safety, a riot of fear and confusion making my mind as numb
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as my fingers. I had to get Mother away, keep her safe. At a fork
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in the path, I pulled right, toward the forest, where we could lose
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ourselves in the pines that grew so thick snow didnt reach the
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ground.
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Too cold, Mother panted, pulling against my hand. No

shelter there. The village.
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We pounded past farms and the shadows of houses until
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Mothers steps slowed, and I half pulled, half dragged her
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through the worst of the drifts, which had poured like frozen
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waves over the path. As we slogged through the shadows next to
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the blacksmiths shop, I saw orange lights bobbing in the village
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square.
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Torches, I whispered, pulling back on my mothers hand.
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It didnt seem real. I had come to the village at least once a
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week for as long as I could remember, not just to buy food and
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supplies, but to get away from the solitude of our tiny hut, to
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exchange nods and smiles with people, to smell baking bread and
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the occasional waft of rosewater from the shopkeepers wives and
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daughters. Although I couldnt truly call anyone my friend, there
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were people who always answered when I greeted them, who
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were glad to take my mothers cordials for a sick father or sister
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or child.
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Now my cozy world had broken like a glass jar dropped onto
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stone, spilling familiarity and security, never to be gathered back
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again. The smells were all wrong, the acrid smoke of torches and
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the reek of too many h

ard-ridden horses with their unwashed
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riders.
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We wheeled and doubled back, but as we passed a space
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between buildings, three soldiers wearing the white arrow
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emerged from the dark like specters, their hands on us before
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we could move. They pulled us toward the square, where groups
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of people waited, looking frightened and disheveled, as if theyd
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been hauled from their beds. I twisted and turned, searching for
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a way out, but I couldnt leave Mother. She stood quiet and still
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beside me.
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Is this the Fireblood girl? The man was tall, with blade-cut
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cheekbones and a sandy beard, and he spoke with an air of com
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mand. His coat shone with polished buttons.
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I scanned the familiar faces of the people from my village.
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Graham, the miller, and his daughter, Flax. The farmers Tibald,
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Brecken, and Tom, and their wives, Gert, Lilly, and Melody.
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They had all come to my mother for treatment when they were
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sick, but surely they didnt know what I was. Id always been so
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careful, and wed been nothing but good neighbors.
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A boy my age stepped forward. My heart leaped to see that it
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was Clay, the butchers eldest son. At the harvest festival, he had
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pulled me to the side as the village danced around the fire. His
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hand had trembled in mine as we shared a kiss in the dark. Hed
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drawn back after feeling my lips, so hot on his own, but he hadnt
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pulled his hand away. After that, wed stolen looks at each other
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when I went to his fathers shop.
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Shes the one, Captain, Clay said, his lips trembling. She
killed my brother.
My mother gasped and squeezed my hand. My body had
gone numb.
A few weeks ago my mother had been summoned by Clays
father. His infant son wouldnt nurse. The babys skin was cold.
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Mother tried every salve and curative she knew and finally took
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me with her to see if my natural heat could warm the childs skin.
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But the baby died anyway. I cried for three days afterward.
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You know thats not true, I whispered. I tried to save him.
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Fireblood! said Clays father. You brought this on all of us.
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I shook my head in disbelief. Clay? Youre the one who
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brought the soldiers here?
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Clays face twisted, but he didnt answer. He just turned away.
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As if by an unspoken command, the villagers retreated as the
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soldiers moved closer. In moments, my mother and I were the
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only ones left, two shivering women ringed by blazing torches.
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Theres one way to know for sure, said the captain, holding
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his torch in front of him with a glimmer of enjoyment in his cold
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eyes. Firebloods dont burn.
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Get away, Mother! I pushed her to the ground.
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The torches were almost on us, six or seven coming from all
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sides, the heat searing my face. The fire from one leaped to the
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fabric of my dress. Flames ate at my clothes and roared in my
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ears. My skin was blistering hot, but it didnt burn.
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The captain stepped forward, his hand moving to his sword,
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and Mother threw herself at him. Her hand slashed down the
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side of his face, drawing a bead of blood. I tried to pull Mother
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back, but as I came close, the captains booted foot crashed into
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my chest. I fell to the ground, gasping, the fire on my dress hiss
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ing into steam against the snow.
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As I struggled to my knees, he lifted his sword, almost lazily.
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Then he slammed the hilt down onto Mothers head with a sick
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ening crack.
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She crumpled to the ground like a broken doll, her hair spread
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over the snow, wispy and delicate, as if drawn with a piece of
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charcoal. Her long, lovely neck curved like a wilted flower stem.
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I crawled to her side and took her shoulders, called out to her.
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My hands fluttered to her chest, her neck, searching for her heart
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beat, strong and steady, like she was. But she lay still.
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The world froze.
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No. No. No.
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The timid little flame in my chest flared to a river of heat, far
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beyond my control. I didnt care. What was the use in hiding it
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now? I breathed in a gasp that stole the air from the sky, the trees,
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the world. The wind seemed to twist around me, the eye of the
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tornado.
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I exhaled.
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The flames that covered my body expanded, erupting with
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a roar and pinwheeling forward. A chaos of writhing, panicked
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men blurred in my vision as soldiers fell to the ground, pushing
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their faces and hands into the snow.
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My mothers still form lay behind me, her hair and limbs in
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a tumble. I reached out to gather her to me, but hands seized my
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shoulders. I lashed out with my fists and searched my mind for
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that well of flame Id found in my deepest self.
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The heat died as they dropped me into a horse trough, my

body breaking through a layer of ice into water that stabbed my
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skin like needles. Rough wooden walls pressed against my sides. I
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pushed up, my chest bursting with singeing cold, and was shoved
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back down. I clutched at the edges of the trough, my nails dig
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ging into the wood.
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Finally I was pulled up, gagging out water and sucking in

great mouthfuls of icy air.
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The captain, his head gilded by a flickering orange light, bent
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down and grasped a fistful of my streaming hair, shoving his face
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into mine. His face was red, blisters forming on his cheeks.
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Youll pay for what you did to me and my men. Your whole
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village will pay.
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Fire already blazed behind him, storefronts and houses belch
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ing out black smoke. Some of the villagers tried to stop the sol
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diers, whose torches touched wooden walls and piles of firewood
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and carts, while they hooted and shouted as if this were an eve
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nings entertainment. Their voices mixed with the wails of those
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who could only stand by and watch as their livelihoods burned.
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Rage mixed with panic, heating my blood and making the

water steam.
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A fitting punishment for harboring a Fireblood, dont you

think? said the captain, his eyes glittering.
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So everyone would suffer because of me.
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Ill kill you for what youve done this night, I managed to
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whisper.
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The flames cast strange shadows on his leering grin. Tie her
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to a horse. Well take her to Blackcreek Prison.
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But, Captain, said a soldier. Her fire.
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Then knock her out.
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Pain split the back of my head. The last thing I saw before my
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world faded to black was the white arrow on the captains chest.
The mark of the Frost King.
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t wo
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Five Months Later
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Booted feet approached in an
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unsteady shuffle, a sign the guards were already deep into their
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cups. It was just past sunset, the light from the tiny barred win
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dow withering into a ruddy glow.
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Wakey, wakey, little wretch.
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I lay huddled in my usual position, knees up, arms wrapped
20
around my chest to hold in my body heat, which the stone floor
21
seemed so greedy to leech away. I sat up slowly, my ankle cuff
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clinking against the chain. Three faces leered at me through
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the bars.
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What time is it? Bragger asked, the words tangling together
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in his mouth. He was thoroughly drunk.
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Time for you to toddle off to your barracks, I replied, voice

scratchy from thirst.
03
He gave a sly smile. How do you like your new accessory?
04
I glanced at the dull gray shackle. Im not sure it matches my
05
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dress.
He snorted a laugh. Filthy like the rest of you. And how does
it feel?
08
Unnecessary.
09
Then I guess you wont be using that heat of yours again
10
11
12
anytime soon.
Depends on whether you decide to show your special atten
tion to any of the other prisoners.
13
A few weeks before, Bragger and his a le-soaked lackeys had
14
decided theyd had enough of the wracking coughs coming
15
from the older man in the cell next to mine. The mans cries
16
for help cut through the layers of numbness that I had built in
17
my mind. Although the dirty conditions and spoiled food had
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weakened my health, and my gift, I had managed to reach
19
through the bars to give Bragger a nice jolt of heat on his bare
20
forearm. The beating had stopped, but the prisoner had died that
21
night, and I had inherited his ankle chain as a reward for my
22
interference.
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None of your concern either way, Firefilth, said Bragger.
24
We might just turn our attentions to you next time. Wont last a
25
day once were through with you.
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Inside, my stomach lurched, but outwardly I was as calm as
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glass. Youve been promising me that for months, and here I am.
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I think youve become rather fond of me. Templeton here has
01
been giving me extra rations.
02
Templeton, the smallest and quietest of the three, started
03
to protest, but Bragger just grinned. I wont fall for that again,
04
turning us on each other so we forget about you. I ask you again,
05
you dirty bit of char. What time is it?
06
Time to burn all of you into ashes.
07
I hadnt realized I said the words aloud until he laughed.
08
Cant have much fire left in you or you wouldve done that a
09
long time ago. But just in case, Rager, you got the bucket?
10
Right here, said Rager, scraping the metal bucket against

the bars.
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12
A key snicked in the lock and the door swung open.
13
What time is it? Bragger asked, low and serious, the tone
14
that told me it would only get worse if I didnt play along.
15
I gritted my teeth. Time for my dousing. He smiled into my

face, a mask of cruel anticipation.
16
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I concentrated on staying still, not backing away. No matter
18
how I tried, though, I jerked when the frigid water crashed over
19
me, and hissing steam rose from my skin. The guards doubled
20
over with laughter.
21
That just never gets old, Bragger said, fouling the air near
22
my face with his breath. A whistling kettle in the shape of a girl.
23
I wonder what would happen if we poured out all that red tea?
24
I lifted my hand slowly to brush back a lock of soaked hair.

His eyes followed the movement, alert.
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Im not scared of you, he said. But he kept his distance as
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Rager stepped forward and swung another bucket of water, this
02
one full of chunks of ice that cut my cheeks and tangled in my
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hair. I gasped, wishing I could control the steam that so enter
04
tained them. But then again, without the steam, there would be
05
no fear. Id seen what they did to the prisoners who didnt scare
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them.
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A third bucket soaked my back. I started to shiver.
08
I dont know why the executioner hasnt come for you yet,
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said Bragger, but its only a matter of time.
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He gave a swift kick to my shoulder, knocking me off bal
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ance. I curled up in a ball as the cell door closed with a clang,
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their laughter moving farther away.
13
I am as cold as the prison walls. I feel nothing.
14
15
16
Ice cracked like the breaking of bones.
17
I woke with a jerk, heart racing. A dark shape, something
18
strange and inhuman, had been hovering over me, touching my
19
cheek in a blistering caress. I blinked away the dream, and the
20
prison came into focus.
21
Frost swept the prison in a white wave, crusting over stone
22
walls and insinuating itself into every crack and keyhole. It spilled
23
across the floor and hardened into glittering sheets that stopped
24
inches away, leaving me on an island of bare stone.
25
Booted feet scraped to a halt outside my cell. I stifled a groan.
26S
Not again. No more guards tonight. But guards didnt smell of
27N
oiled leather and soap. My eyes flicked up to a tall, hooded figure

20
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
hulking outside my cell, a torch held in his right hand. My spine
01
tightened and fine hairs rose on my neck.
02
Another hooded shape joined the first. This figure was smaller
03
and leaned on a walking stick that he tapped with each step. A
04
short white beard flowed over the collar of his robe.
05
So you think this is the one? He spoke quietly, his refined
06
accent jarringly out of place in this pit of lowborn murderers and
07
thieves.
08
Look, said the taller figure, his voice deeper, more vigorous.
09
See how the ice refuses to touch her? He sucked in a breath and
10
blew it out with force. The water in the air turned to ice and fell
11
over me in tiny pellets that steamed back into vapor as they met
12
my skin.
13
I bit off a moan, my eyes wide with terror. So these were
14
Frostbloods, who had a power in complete opposition to my own.
15
I struggled to keep my breathing even, to hide my panic.
16
You see? His voice was low but exultant.
17
Sit up, little one, the shorter figure said, tapping the bars
18
with his stick as if knocking at my door. We wish to speak
19
with you.
20
I remained still, like a small animal trying to escape notice
21
when a predator is near, willing them to move on and leave me in
22
peace. I hadnt felt so frightened since the day the soldiers came
23
to my village. The guards did not have the gift and they still man
24
aged to make my life a misery. At least they were afraid of my fire.
25
What could a Frostblood do to me?
S26
Do as he says, said the man who stood tall and broad and
N27
21
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
01
imposing on the other side of the bars. Sit up or Ill find a bucket
02
of water, and then well see how you shiver.
03
Defiance heated my skin. I unwound my arms and sat up.
04
The old man stepped closer. How old are you?
05
I frowned, searching my mind for the answer. Days blurred
06
07
08
09
10
11
12
into months, which could bleed into years in the kings prison.
He seemed to understand my uncertainty. It has been two
weeks since the vernal equinox.
A dull ache spread through my chest. Id lost nearly half a
year. Seventeen, then.
You burned the kings soldiers, some of them badly, he said.
Though with the help of skilled healers, they survived.
13
A real pity, I replied, my voice as cold as the ice-coated floor.
14
He chuckled and looked to his companion. Its curious
15
that her hair is black. The truly gifted often have fiery hair. He
16
reached through the bars toward me. Show us your wrist.
17
I brought my hands to my chest. Why?
18
We only wish to see. His voice was soft, gentle. Without
19
thinking, I lifted my arm, the tattered sleeve falling open to
20
reveal my thin wrist. He took the torch from his companion and
21
held it close to the bars, the light falling on the thick vein that
22
pulsed like a fat red worm under my skin.
23
See how it shines so red? he marveled as I pulled my arm
24
away. He pushed back his own sleeve to show me the vein in
25
his wrist, cold blue instead of crimson. We wish no harm, he
26S
assured me. We are here to make an offer. If you complete the
27N
task we require, you will have your freedom.

22
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
My heart fluttered in my throat. The word freedom rang in my
01
head like the pure, clear note of a temple bell. The very thought of
02
it was a painful temptation, to feel fresh air in my lungs, the kiss
03
of sunshine on my skin, the play of wind in my hair. I trembled,
04
torn between longing and terror.
05
There are worse things than dying slowly in a cell.
06
The two figures loomed still and silent in the flickering light,
07
frost crackling under their feet. Their breath fogged the air with
08
a cold mist.
09
What is the task? I asked.
10
The old man looked around and shook his head. It is some
11
thing you will be only too eager to help us with.
12
Why would I help a Frostblood with anything? Except to die.
13
His weathered hands rose and pulled the hood off to reveal
14
a lined face with skin darker than my own, long and lean with
15
noble bones. His eyes, so light blue they were almost white,
16
burned into me. His lips held the hint of a smile. Frost and fire
17
were friends once.
18
Not in my lifetime.
19
He looked to his companion and back to me, his expression
20
intent. Then, perhaps this will interest you. Our target is the
21
throne itself.
22
I pressed my hands to the cold stone floor to steady myself. It
23
was what I longed for, the only thing Id wanted since the day the
24
soldiers had taken everything from me: to kill the king, who had
25
ordered that raid. If it were not for the king, there would have
S26
been no soldiers, no captain, no prison.
N27
23
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
01
My mother would still be alive.
02
I met the pale gaze, my head spinning. They wanted me
03
to kill the king for them, but at what cost? You expect me to
04
trust you?
05
06
He spread his hands. We are here, offering you a way out. If

we are discovered, we will be hanged.
07
If youre lucky.
08
He nodded.
09
And if I refuse?
10
The taller man blew out a breath. Then you can rot in here
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
until youre nothing but a pile of bones held together by chains.

My lip curled. One shout and the two of you will rot in here
with me.
A charming offer, said the broad-shouldered figure. I cant
imagine why no one has come for you sooner.
A muffled laugh from the old man. Enough, Arcus. Do you
agree to our terms, girl?
18
I considered my options. From what Id heard from the other
19
prisoners, most of the Firebloods in the kingdom had been killed
20
or driven away. Some were probably rotting in prisons, as I was.
21
But sooner or later, the executioner would come.
22
23
I could likely escape from these men with greater ease than I
could escape from the kings prison.
24
I set my jaw and nodded.
25
The older man bent toward the keyhole and blew into it. Ice
26S
spiked around the opening, followed by a loud click. The door
27N
swung inward.
24
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
And my chain? I asked, motioning to my ankle.
01
He stepped close, leaning on his stick, and sent out another
02
breath. Ice formed in the keyhole of the ankle cuff but melted a
03
second later. He tried again, and again the ice melted.
04
Your resistance to cold is too strong. Can you repress your

ability, girl?
05
06
I shook my head. Grandmother had died before she could

teach me.
07
08
A low groan echoed down the corridor from the guardroom.
09
The guards are waking, said the one called Arcus. Stay
10
back.
11
Before I could blink, he exhaled a blast of freezing air at the
12
chain, pulled a sword from behind his back, and swung it down.
13
I gasped and jerked away as the brittle chain cracked in half. The
14
air echoed with the rending of iron, followed by another distant
15
groan.
16
Hurry, urged the old man.
17
I tried to stand, but a mutiny of pain in my joints pulled me
18
back down. My muscles had grown too weak to support me.
19
Carry her, Arcus.
20
Arcus bent down, his hood stopping inches from me. The
21
scent of soap and horse and leather filled my senses.
22
If you try anything, he said, leaning close to my ear, Ill

break your skinny neck.
23
24
I glared and held myself still, wishing I could see his eyes
25
instead of shadows. Only his chin and lower lip were clearly visi
S26
ble. Both were strong, well formed, and puckered by a thick, ugly
N27
25
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
01
scar. If you hurt me, Ill burn you so badly even your mistress
02
will run in terror.
03
He snorted softly, then slid his arms under my back and legs.
04
As he lifted me, the weight of the cuff pulled against my ankle. I
05
grunted in pain and was surprised when he set me down again, pull
06
ing a piece of cloth from his robes. He wound it around my ankle
07
under the metal so it wouldnt chafe. Then he scooped me back up.
08
When my thigh touched the cold skin of his bare arm, he
09
sucked in a loud breath through his nostrils, but he moved quickly
10
and quietly, even with my weight in his arms. As we mounted the
11
crumbling stairs, Bragger stumbled into the hallway, blinking
12
and w
ide-eyed at the sight of a prisoner being carted away.
13
Frost fogged the stone corridor and smeared the floor in glit
14
tering, interconnected webs. Ice clacked like a thousand chatter
15
ing teeth as it rushed over Braggers legs and up his midsection
16
to cover his arms and neck. He opened his mouth, but his words
17
were blocked by the sudden appearance of a mouthful of ice.
18
I stared at the older mans raised hand, ice crystals shining
19
on his fingers. But I had no time to marvel at the strength of his
20
gift. More guards were grumbling into wakefulness, their voices
21
carrying into the hallway. Arcus strode past the frozen figure to
22
a door propped open by a thin board, the older man following
23
quickly.
24
As the heavy door clanged shut behind us, I trembled with
25
the reality of escape. My lungs filled with the sweet, clean air of
26S
outdoors, my eyes dazzled by the almost forgotten sight of stars,
27N
like torches in a darkened room.

26
2/12/16 1:50:25 PM
Beneath my thigh, Arcuss arm was bitter cold. His breathing

had grown shallow.
01
02
My skin burns you, doesnt it? I asked, noticing his fur

rowed brow and clenched jaw.
03
04
It is your stench that burns my nostrils, Fireblood, and noth
05
ing else. I hope Brother Thistle has enough soap in the abbey to
06
make you bearable.
07
If he was averse to being near me, that was fine. The feeling
was mutual.
08
09
Are you Brother Thistle? I asked the old man, who was
10
taking labored steps toward a carriage and driver waiting in the
11
shadow of a building across the street.
12
That I am, girl. And what is your name?
13
Ruby, I replied. Ruby Otrera.
14
Ruby, he repeated, smiling. How fitting.
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
S26
N27
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2/12/16 1:50:25 PM

FROSTBLOOD - Opening Extract

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First published in 2017 by Little, Brown and Company

First published in Great Britain in 2017 by

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance

Hodder & Stoughton policy is to use papers that are natural,

I offered my hand to the fire.

Sparks leaped from the hearth and settled onto my fingers,

heat drawn to heat, and glittered like molten gems against my

skin. With my free hand, I pulled a bucket of melting snow closer

and edged forward on my knees, ready to douse myself if the

sparks flared into something much larger.

Which is exactly what I intended.

Winter solstice was six weeks away, but my village, high in

the mountains, was already blanketed with a thick layer of snow.

Grandmother used to say that the true test of a Firebloods gift

than the most rudimentary of lessons, and Mother had made me

promise never to practice at all.

It was a promise I couldnt keep. If the kings soldiers discov

I closed my eyes and focused on my heart, willing the gather

taught me. If I did it right, the bright sparks on my hand would

burst into tiny flames.

Come on, little wisp, where are you?

After years of being told to tamp down my fire, keep it hid

den, make it invisible, I struggled each time I tried to find it.

But there it was, a small, churning tendril. I coaxed it forward, a

reluctant thread that grew a little, then a little more.

Thats it. I held my breath, afraid to break the spell.

A gust of frigid air whipped my hair across my face. The

sparks on my fingers died, and the wisp darted back into my

the crack at the bottom, a deep shiver shaking her fine-boned

Seeing her tremble, I finally scooted to the side, revealing the

I shrugged, my excitement wilting. It was so cold.

Ruby, you were practicing. The tone of disappointment was

and the grains running out, people will do anything to survive,

including taking a r eward

I know. You dont have to tell me again.

half-burned rags. Scorch marks still stained the floor.

My cheeks warmed. Im sorry I lost my temper the other day.

She shook her head in a tense movement that told me there

was no use pleading. I wrapped my arms around myself and

rocked gently. Finally, her w

to be black and not red like some Firebloods. My skin might be

I understand that your gift is a part of you, she said softly.

past few months, when Id decided to start practicing my gift.

Is heavily guarded now.

We should have left years ago, I said bitterly. We should

live in Sudesia with the rest of our people.

half our store of firewood?

When it burns down, well freeze.

ted my mattress, which Id pulled close to the hearth, just out of

range of stray sparks.

Her gaze softened, a smile tugging at her lips. Youre better

Exactly. A Fireblood daughter can be very useful.

She gave a bark of laughter and my heart lightened. I am

gratefulbelieve me. She pulled me into a tight hug, gasping

and laughing as she felt the sting of heat coming from me in

waves. Its like holding a cooked chicken. I think youd better

replace the lot you used up.

I pressed through drifts, the snow hissing as it melted against

my shins above my boots. The wind howled from the southwest,

yanking the hood from my head and raking through my hair

hotter than normal after practicing my gift. Mother had said to