Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(20)
I feathered my fingertips over Arcus’s bandage, the cold seeping into my skin. I sent a pulse of gentle heat into his shoulder near the wound, hoping it would help the healing process somehow, even just a little. “What happens now?”
“I truly do not know. His court is divided. He has friends—most notably Lord and Lady Manus and Lord Pell—but they alone don’t have the land or connections to have great influence. And many who do, like my cousin, Lord Tryllan, choose neutrality over risk. They wait to see which way the wind blows before taking sides.” He paused. “At any rate, we must form a new plan. No one will sign accords with a monarch whose reign appears so tenuous.”
“His court is divided because of me,” I said dully. “His reign is tenuous because of me. What can I do to help him?”
“You were with the dignitary from the southern provinces when you were attacked, were you not?”
If I could trust anyone, it was Brother Thistle. I told him everything.
“Remarkable! What would the Sudesians want with you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well,” he mused, “if they meant you harm, the Fireblood could have just killed you himself. Perhaps you are celebrated as a hero for destroying the frost throne and helping overthrow King Rasmus.”
“So I should trust him? Should I go if it will help Arcus achieve peace?”
Emotions chased one another across his face: curiosity, doubt, uncertainty, excitement. He shook his head. “We cannot act rashly.”
“But we do need to act.”
“More than you know.” His tone was resigned.
“Why? What don’t I know?”
There was something overly careful in his expression, as if he were preparing for my reaction. “Murders have risen tenfold in the villages within a few days’ ride from here. In each case, the murderer has died of seemingly natural causes shortly after, but the blood found in the body is always black. I believe the Minax is possessing people, moving from village to village.”
The pain of betrayal sent wild heat through my chest. “How could you not tell me before now?” I had a terrible thought. “Did you and Arcus not trust me? Did you think I would… that I was so corrupted by the Minax that you weren’t sure whose side I was on?”
After all, the Minax’s possession had been like an opiate, erasing all worry and fear. Brother Thistle knew how I’d struggled not to let the creature consume me.
“Of course not! Arcus insisted you were worried enough already without the burden of more guilt. He said you would blame yourself for releasing the Minax.”
He was right about that.
“So it’s out there possessing people.” I clenched my hands together. “Making them kill each other and feeding on the grief that follows.”
“Perhaps, but I think its intentions go beyond that. Recently, our Frostblood general in the Aris Plains ordered his soldiers to attack a peaceful province with no command from the king nor a strategic goal in mind. They simply began cutting people down. I do not think it a coincidence that peace is always out of reach; the Minax thrives on war. If this goes on, we will continue to decimate one another with no end in sight. Arcus has sent his best trackers after it, but what would we do if we catch the person who is possessed? If we imprison or kill its host, the creature will merely choose another.”
It seemed hopeless. Too many factors we didn’t understand or couldn’t control. “But we can’t do nothing. The Minax is out there… slaughtering people, turning them against each other. Innocent lives.” I gasped, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.
Brother Thistle spoke softly, calming me. “You are right. We cannot afford to ignore this opportunity or the knowledge we now possess on how to kill the Minax. Do you remember the book on the thrones I mentioned? The one that is no longer in our library?”
I nodded. “How could I forget Pernillius?”
“There were two copies, one for each Frostblood and Fireblood monarch. One for each throne. The secrets in it were considered dangerous, so it was kept under lock and key in King Akur’s time. I”—he cleared his throat—“managed to obtain it once… .”
“You mean you stole it?” I grinned in admiration.
“Yes, well, borrowed is a more accurate word. I held the book only briefly, before Lord Ustathius discovered I had it and took it back. That book”—he turned and peered at the shelves as if he might summon the volume with the power of his will—“is where I first learned of the prophecy of the Child of Light and the destruction of the throne. I am certain that it contained knowledge of the destruction of the Minax. Since the day I returned here after King Rasmus banished me, I have scoured the castle to no avail.”
“Maybe Lord Ustathius still has it,” I suggested.
“I questioned him. He says he barely remembers the book, although he does enjoy thwarting me. We had a sort of informal competition for the king’s ear many years ago.”
“So another copy lies in Sudesia,” I said, drawing his attention back to the point at hand. “But on which island?” I’d seen the maps showing islands clustered together like pieces of broken slate tossed to the ground.
“I assume it is kept in the capital, Sere, where the queen lives, as well as being home to the school for Fireblood masters.”