Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(28)
It’s much easier to run away when the king of Glacium is in on my plan.
My veil is off, and I’m in the poorest quality clothing I was able to source. Unfortunately, even the kitchen helper’s garments are far better than the rags worn in the Outer Rings.
I clamber over the low stone walls separating the assembly housing until I reach the pathway into the Inner Ring. Hoisting my pack, I take confident strides, worthy of my Frost persona, in the direction of the Second Sector. I hope to find Alzona there. And my other friends from the pits too. They should have returned to the barracks after the ball in the First, but I haven’t spoken to any of them since Crystal left the Ire. I need their help. Frost is the best hope we have of getting accurate information, or any information not fed to the council by Blaine. I have a few of my own ideas I want to set in motion as well.
I stick to the wide lanes during my travels, knowing I’ll make more ground by using the roads in the wealthier circles. In the Inner and Middle Rings, the housing is split into neat blocks with lanes and ways in between each block. The Outer Rings, in contrast, are a mass of winding, dead-end alleys I’ve yet to completely figure out. A journey between two sectors using the Outer Ring’s paths could take a full day—if you knew where you were going—because as well as being impossible to figure out, there was more ground to cover; the Outer Rings are the largest of the three rings, wrapping around the far outskirts of Glacium. I needed to keep this visit as short as possible to avoid raising suspicions in the castle, as the Tatuma’s absence would be noticed. It meant the main roads for me.
The sky has long grown dark as I cut into the Second Sector and turn toward the edge of Glacium. Though I spent nearly a whole sector out here, the tall shadows and quiet rustlings from above unnerve me. I know a dozen pairs of eyes linger on me right now. Soon everyone will know Frost has returned.
Luckily I have a fearsome reputation now. While living in the barracks I’d beaten most of my opponents in the fighting pits at one time or another. The people here knew the penalty of trying to fight me. Or they used to …
I find the main cobbled walkway in complete darkness, secretly proud of myself for remembering the way. The difference between my first fumbling journey to these streets and my return is like fire to ice. In no time, I’m turning down the alleyway to Alzona’s barracks. I just hope they’re here. They could be at the pit fights in another sector, though it’s mid-week.
I take a deep breath and raise my fist to knock on the first of many heavy gates into the compound.
It takes several minutes of knocking to get a response.
“This better be fucking good.” I bounce on my feet when Alzona's grumbling reaches me over the uncovered, barbed gates into the barracks. “If it’s those little shits again, I’m going to get Avalanche to kick them into Sector Four.”
“They only do it because they’re hungry. Maybe if you gave them our scraps they wouldn’t annoy you.” I smile at Blizzard’s reprimand. He never stops thinking of others.
“Save your ‘feed the world’ crap,” she snarls. “Plus, Avalanche doesn’t leave scraps.”
They reach the final gate and glare through the slits at me. I wave at them, lamely.
“Frost!” Blizzard exclaims. Alzona wrenches open the gate and I’m enfolded in a hard hug before she pushes me away and replaces her look of shock with a scowl.
“There’s no king chasing you this time, is there?” she asks. Jovan had chased me to the barracks after I escaped the castle for the second time. I laugh, glad Jovan didn’t hear that, and attempt to reassure her over my shoulder as I’m dragged into Blizzard’s arms.
I trail happily after my friends, looking fondly around the damp, chilly stone and wood surroundings that I’ve come to love. There was a time when I couldn’t wait to escape this place. Now the narrow hallways and thin walls are familiar. Cheering noises fill the kitchen when I’m presented, Blizzard’s arm still wrapped around my shoulders. I’m passed around to receive hugs from everyone: Shard, Avalanche, Ice and Crystal. I look around for a moment, waiting for Flurry before remembering he’s gone, that he never survived the Dome. The realization delivers a solid blow to my elation at returning. I recover my smile as I catch a questioning look from Crystal.
“I’ll tell you later,” I whisper to her. Last she’d seen me, I was still in the Ire and not planning to return to Glacium anytime soon.
A drink is shoved in my hands as Shard straddles the bench next to me.
“What brings the mighty Frost back?” he says, a twinkle in his eye. It softens the sharpness of his features.
I smile. “I've been wanting to see you all for a long time.”
“Look! The girly’s gone and got all fancy on us again,” Ice blurts. I feel my cheeks heat as they laugh. They don’t know who I am, but my language, and that of Shard’s and Blizzard’s, sets us apart as outsiders in the Outer Rings. I’ve guessed the others think I’m from the Inner Ring. Nerves rattle in my abdomen as I remember my plan. Talking to Jovan and Olandon about my unveiling is one thing, doing it is another. Do I have the courage to confess my true identity?
“My time since seeing you all has been … interesting, to say the least.” I smile quickly at Crystal. Alzona scowls at her. My heart sinks as I see things haven’t improved there.