Thorns of Frost (Fae of Snow & Ice, #2)

The prince scowled. “I don’t know. Truthfully, I have no idea.”

“But . . . only days ago, this field was thriving. Lord Woodsbury proclaimed it at the last council meeting.” Bending down, I frantically dug through the snow, having to push several feet aside until I came to the hard, cold dirt. It was dry and gray—exactly as it’d been before I’d restored this land’s orem.

A mewling sound escaped me. No, no, no. Sitting back on my haunches, I stared at the dead ground before me.

“Are the gods working against us? Do they want us all to starve? Is saving the Solis continent truly beyond anything we can fix?” Because if my magic only restored life to these crops temporarily, then we were all doomed.

Norivun crouched at my side. I leaned into him, and his hand pressed into the small of my back, steadying me and drawing me close.

But it wasn’t until my side met the firm warmth of his thigh that I realized I was allowing the bond to soothe me when I should be anything but calm right now. I snapped upright. “What’s happened here since we left?”

The prince’s eyes glittered. “The villagers say the crops had been thriving since you used your affinity, but then this morning, they woke up to this.”

My jaw dropped. “The plants died overnight?”

His single nod had my heart clenching. Leaning forward, I shoved my hand into the soil. Where? Where are you?

When I’d left this field two months ago, pulsing orem had beat through it. But now . . .

My breath stopped.

Nothing. Nothing rippled beneath my palm.

I moved my hand, frantically searching the soil for something, anything. I called upon my life-giving affinity and willed a heartbeat of life to tingle back into this land, but the second my magic surged forward, it collided with something that bit back at me. The shock of it was so sudden I nearly fell to the side.

I yanked my hand back. “What in the realm was that?”

The prince frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s something here.”

Norivun’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

Tentatively, I laid my hand back on the ground and closed my eyes, then searched for that zap I’d just sensed, that strange barrier, but . . . it didn’t respond. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes.

“I don’t know. I could have sworn I just sensed something, something that punched back at me, but maybe I didn’t. Maybe my magic is all tangled up right now. I’m nervous about the second test, but Mother Below, how can this field be dead again?”

He raked a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “I wish I knew.”

My braid settled on my shoulder as I stared at him with pleading eyes. “Is everything we’re doing hopeless? Have all of these weeks that I’ve spent visiting fields been for naught?”

Outside of my bubble, the wind raged. A moment of helplessness hit me when the absolute bleakness of our climate met me with full force. Life here on the northern continent would never grow without the aid of magic. This land was too cold, too frozen to ever foster plants naturally.

My mouth twisted with concern. “Will I never fulfill our bargain? Will our fae ultimately starve no matter what I do?”

Norivun loosed a breath and drew me close. His aura thrummed beside mine, but when he met my gaze, I saw the answer in his expression before he said, “I’m starting to wonder if we can be saved.”





Norivun mistphased us back to the castle, and we re-emerged in the castle’s main courtyard. The other three Trial females were already present, along with Sir Featherton, the queen, and the king. Standing just behind them were all of the territory archons, but there weren’t any other spectators today or guards. Not even Nuwin was present.

“Ah, there she is!” Sir Featherton said dramatically. “We feared we would have to disqualify you from the second test if you didn’t appear soon.”

Everyone glanced between the prince and me, some not bothering to hide their snickers. My cheeks heated at the conclusion they’d obviously reached that explained my tardiness. If only . . .

“Norivun, what is the meaning of this?” the king asked, his tone amused, but his expression hard.

The prince’s shoulders tightened. “I escorted Ilara briefly to Isalee. A troubling event has occurred.”

“Oh?” Taberitha Wormiful pushed to the front of the group as her pointy chin jutted up. “What’s amiss?”

“Indeed,” Lord Crimsonale chimed in, “if something is causing you concern, surely the council should be made aware.”

Lord Woodsbury, the Isalee Territory archon, cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, fine fae, but if something is problematic within Isalee, then I believe I’m the one who should be consulted.” He stared down at me with narrowed eyes. “Report if you would, Lady Seary.”

Prince Norivun growled. “Speak to her with more respect, Lord Woodsbury.”

The Isalee archon sniffed but said in a less spiteful tone, “Well? Report if you will.”

I clenched my hands into fists. “The field I restored to life two months ago outside of Whimseal has died again.”

Everyone gasped.

“It’s as I’ve been saying,” Lord Crimsonale said, his expression thunderous. “The fields are dying. When will the council take this seriously?” He gave the king a pointed look.

The king waved his hand. “The fields will be restored at the next celestial event as they inevitably always are. And if the Isalee field has truly died again, then I think all that proves is that Lady Seary’s affinity isn’t as powerful as my son had hoped.” He looked me up and down. “Perhaps none of your affinities are as strong as I’ve been told.”

The crown prince leveled his father with a glacial glare. “She’s more magical than any female here.”

Georgyanna bristled as Beatrice and Meegana remained quiet but shared anxious glances.

Lady Wormiful straightened to her full height and said icily, “Shall we begin the second test? Perhaps we’ll know more about the strength of each female after its victor emerges.”





Sir Featherton explained where we were to mistphase, and everyone disappeared one by one. Those who excelled at the magical means of transporting disappeared faster than others. But this time, when my magic transported me instantaneously across the realm, I didn’t land with confidence. My legs shook when I materialized on the Bay of Nim.

Crashing waves reached my ears as soaring hills rose alongside the body of water that cut deep into the northern land of Mervalee Territory. I was the first to arrive at the bay, first to step foot back on my home soil, and a moment of relief hit me. My magic had transported me here before all of the others, even Norivun, but that consolation was short-lived.

Krista Street's books