"It's good to know that's possible." Ilathor smiled.
When Haptut Alwar, the tyrant High Lord of Petrya, was half-way across the ice, he suddenly stopped.
"How long will it take to change?" Prince Ilathor asked.
"At a guess? The sheet on top is the last of it. Underneath, it's already boiling hot."
The richly-robed figure took one more hesitant step. By now, a large crowd of Petryans had gathered, all watching the drama unfold, everything else forgotten.
On the shore, close to where the crowd stood, Ella could see the water bubbling and boiling as Lake Halapusa returned to its natural state.
High Lord Haptut Alwar took three more steps.
Then, with a blood-curdling scream, the Petryan High Lord fell through the ice.
~
ELLA left when the Petryans and Hazarans started to take bets on how long he would take to die. Haptut Alwar thrashed and cried, moans of anguish coming from his throat as he tried to swim through water that grew hotter with every passing second.
It was even better than it would have been before, the Petryans said, with the water slowly heating up. The longer he lasted, the better.
Ella returned to the Poltoi Palace as singing and dancing started in the streets. The High Lord's most fervent supporters were rounded up, and she tried to ignore their screams as they, too, were thrown in the lake. Ella was glad the Petryans saw it as liberation, rather than conquest. She hoped the future would now be brighter for these passionate people.
"Salute, enchantress," the Hazaran guard said when Ella approached the chamber where the healers had taken Shani and Bartolo. The man rose, a strangely bashful expression on his face. "I'm sorry, but you cannot go in there."
"Why not?" Ella demanded. "Are they all right? I want to see my friends."
"They are fine," the guard soothed. "Please, come back another time."
"What's wrong?" Ella said. "Are they badly hurt?"
Ella pushed forward, and the guard tried to stop her, grabbing onto her wrist, but she spoke a word and he snatched his hand away with a yelp.
Ella turned the handle of the door and opened it. "Shani? Bartolo?" she called. "Oh…"
Ella stepped back and immediately closed the door. She knew her face must be bright red.
"I tried to warn you," the guard said.
"I see," Ella said. "Well… I'm glad to see they're well and recovering, both of them."
"It seems that way to me." The guard grinned.
"Good night," Ella said.
Ella walked back out of the Poltoi Palace and onto the terrace where Bartolo had saved her and Shani's lives. A bladesinger and an elementalist — who would have thought! She knew they would be good for each other, and most of all she was happy for Shani. Love came from the strangest of places.
She could hear singing and warbling music wafting up from below, carried on the warm, moist breeze. Looking out, Ella saw that the sun was about to set. Ella was again taken by the view from the top of the tiered city. It had been a long, eventful day.
"Always I come to you, and always you leave me," a male voice, smooth as silk, came from behind her.
Ella turned and caught Prince Ilathor's smile, even as the sun fell behind the crater's edge and the stars came out. "Does it seem that way?" she said.
Barely visible in the rapidly fading light, she saw the prince shrug. "It seems that way. The first time was in the desert, when I thought you were Evora Guinestor, High Enchantress of Altura. The second time was high in the tower above Torlac, when I again felt the connection between us. The third time was just now, by the gate of this city. Here I am. Please don't leave me a fourth time, Ella."
"Everyone is celebrating," Ella said.
"But not you?"
"I'm tired. I don't even know where I'm sleeping tonight."
"It's all been taken care of. Just down the hill from the Poltoi Palace is the house of a merchant, a man kind enough to put his rooms and servants at our disposal. I do not know if house is the appropriate term, his manse is nearly as big as this palace."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"No, Enchantress Ella. Thank you." He paused. "For today, I mean. You were… amazing."
"I think I'm going to lie down," Ella said. She reached out and squeezed the prince's hand. "Good night, Your Highness."
Prince Ilathor didn't let go of her hand. Ella could feel his cool, dry touch, her hand enveloped in his larger one. His thumb ran over the skin on the back of her hand, sending a tingle travelling up Ella's arm and down her spine.
"At least let me walk you down," Prince Ilathor said.
Before they left Ella took one last look at the view from the terrace outside the Poltoi Palace. Once again the moon was out, but this time the shimmer on Lake Hapalusa was closer, and even the sparkling stars were reflected on the water. Ella's hand was still held in the prince's, but she didn't let go; she'd seen so much horror and death this day that his touch held a strong affirmation of life.