Soul of Ice

Chapter Thirteen

The landscape was white. White with snow, she realized. Clumps of snow were still falling from the sky, clouding the landscape everywhere. Ice and snow and frost, all of it calling to the magic in her veins. So much power around here, feeding into her. Oh, by the Seam...

The marks of devastation were all around her. Crumbled buildings, bent pieces of metal stuck in the snow near her. Ruined wood, splintered and cracked. There were no bodies around her, but she felt rather than saw the presence of death all around her.

Nearby, a tattered banner was sunken in the snow, the edges ruffling slightly in the breeze. She knew it was a dream, knew it was happening in her mind, but like the cold, she could feel the wind. A slight breeze blew through, unfurling the banner, and she caught sight of black and green colors and a marred and unrecognizable symbol. But she would know those colors anywhere. Pelosia.

The destruction of the city, if it even had been a city—it was hard to tell with the sheer damage—was spread out for miles, past as far as she could see.

She took a small step back, her boots crunching in the packed snow. It didn't matter that this wasn't real and that it was all history anyway, what mattered was the pain and the fear and the guilt running—

"Calayne." Astra awoke with a jolt, the dream falling away almost as quickly as it had came. She was still in the hallway, leaning against the hard concrete behind her, surrounded by gray walls and closed doors. Aaro stood before her. She stood up in a haste, brushing out her hair with a hand as she went.

"How is she? The baby?" Astra looked around, noting the empty hallway. A faint pang of terror shot through her before she pushed it back down. "Where's Timmy?"

"Timothy? His father took him to bed. As for Rianne, she and the baby are fine." Exhaustion plagued his tone, and dark shadows with tinges of pink ringed his eyes. How long had she been asleep?

She frowned at the male. "And are you alright?" He frowned back at her, as if affronted that she was asking. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and walked away.

Without turning back, he called, "It's five o'clock in the morning. You have about three hours before breakfast."

Astra rose into a crouch and watched until Aaro disappeared down the hallway. He'd seemed sad and tired—drained.

She straightened up, stretched, and was about to leave when the glint of metal caught her eye. A tiny ring lay where Timothy had sat just the night before. Astra scooped the ring up and into her pants pocket before heading down the hallway.

•

Family dorms were down a separate hall from the single wraith dorms. Gray concrete, dark, dreary—the layout was more or less the same.

The second room down the hallway on the left, that's what she'd been told when she'd asked one of the guards.

She stopped before the room, raising her hand to knock before withdrawing it. No doubt the entire family would still be asleep after such an exhausting night.

Astra drew the gold ring out of her pocket and fiddled with it for a few seconds. It was plain with no embellishments. She crouched down and slid it under the door crack before walking away.

It was still too early in the morning, but the last thing she wanted to do was lie in her bed in the room she shared with five other wraiths she could care less about, staring up at the metal underside of the bed above her.

Astra wandered through the compound, the eyes of guards following her. The rough haze of sadness and guilt was gnawing on her again, followed by pulsing anger and frustration until she found herself standing before a set of huge doors. She pushed them open, the doors swinging smoothly and silently on well-oiled hinges. The training room inside was devoid of people with no guards in sight—a surprising reprieve that she would not take for granted.