Festival of Frost Read online

  Festival of Frost

  Festival of Frost

  C.H. Williams

  Copyright © 2019 C.H. Williams

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the author.

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

  Contents

  Festival of Frost

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  To the doubters

  Chapter 1

  LILAH

  "Juli!” Lilah’s scream was lost on the wind, though, her sister already too far gone to hear the cry.

  The Basin, as the crevasse between the foothills was so aptly named, seemed happy to drink in the voices of the living.

  Lilah frowned, watching her sister’s silhouette disappear through the grass towards the bleeding sky.

  Wasn’t fair.

  It wasn’t fair that Lilah had been left stranded—not just in the field, though that was bad enough, having to wade through the sea of prickling stalks jutting this way and that into her legs as the sun sank, darkness already rising along the rim of the horizon.

  No, it wasn’t fair, being left so far from the world.

  From her friends.

  Her family, she thought resentfully, hadn’t been so considerate. They’d trailed right along, determined to stick together.

  Except now, when Juli, too, had at last abandoned her. There’d be stories around the fire, tonight, and Juli and Grayson reveled in the tales. It was, Lilah supposed, their only chance to leave this wretched place—and their reason—behind.

  Still, Lilah refused to lose herself to the fantastical tales, and so the facts remained.

  Her friends were too far away, left behind in the Capital. Her loony Aunt Bess was too close, now living in the room across the hall, a decrepit, half-blind old crone.

  And Juli.

  Juli, who’d promised to stay, but who instead went running off after boys and stories, leaving Lilah all alone in this gods-forsaken hell-hole.

  Grabbing a fistful of grass, stripping the seeds from the chafe with an angry yank that left her fingers stinging, Lilah started off towards the house.

  She didn’t ask to be brought here.

  She hadn’t asked her father to rise before the Board of Commissioners and bid on the Basin.

  She hadn’t asked him to sell his life savings for this glorified ditch, shoved in the butt-crack of Aerdela.

  And she sure as hell hadn’t asked to spend those gods-forsaken weeks in a carriage, with Juli chittering on about what kind of boys would be in the Basin, only relenting when the summer heat reached a fever-pitch of near-suffocating degree.

  Lilah had never been interested in romance.

  Juli, as in all things, veered the opposite direction.

  So much for sisters.

  They didn’t even look alike. Not anymore.

  Fuck this place.

  Lilah let the grass seeds trickle out of her fingertips, shoulders sinking in resignation as she walked.

  Mother would accuse you of being spoiled.

  Maybe she was.

  Somehow, though, she didn’t think so.

  I’m not spoiled because I don’t want to squat over a trench to take a pee.

  But great leaders led by example, her father was fond of saying, and unless he wanted all the Basin twiddling their thumbs in an armchair, this had to be done with his family at the lead.

  What he meant was that he couldn’t afford to pay anyone to do this for him, because he’d pissed his money away just buying the damn land, and morality made a lovely blanket for their new-found poverty.

  Night came quickly, in the Basin.

  Not like in the Capital, where it pushed reluctantly into the space between the street-lamps, sidling into alleys after they’d all retired to their beds, waiting for permission to enter the city.

  Here, it was a predator. It struck quickly. Without warning.

  Merciless.

  That, Lilah sort of liked.

  It was admirable.

  And anyway, the stars shown a little bit brighter in this corner of the world, so that was something, at least.

  The grass hissed as she walked, following the game trail to the windows alight in the distance.

  Her feet stopped her, though, as the lights grew closer.

  There was nowhere to run, here.

  Nowhere to go but the cabin.

  To a bed she resentfully shared with Juli, who couldn’t seem to just lay still, who tossed and turned ‘til dawn. To a bowl of cold water and the mirror that laughably replaced a bathing room. To breakfast, eventually, of hotgrain, no butter or cream or sugar to spare her from the bitter aftertaste.

  The air was cooling quickly, in the dark, still and quiet.

  Yet, the grass hissed on.

  The grass hissed, and an uneasy prickling rose on the back of Lilah’s neck. Sweat still clung to her cotton shift, skin sticky with exertion, only the breeze of her now-stilled movements cooling the heat, and the grass hissed away in the undisturbed night.

  She turned, eyes straining into the dark.

  A pair of glowing eyes gazed back.

  Chapter 2

  JULI

  Juli glanced over her shoulder, watching Lilah throw her hands up in dismay. Her sister’s lips mouthed something—some sort of chastisement, probably, knowing Lilah—but it didn’t matter.

  She was too far gone.

  And tonight was story night.

  Juli had to run the last little bit, trying to make it back to the settlement before the sun set completely, and she was out of breath, pushing open the door of the cabin, sweat making her hair cling uncomfortably to her forehead, but again, it didn’t matter.

  She hadn’t missed it.

  Everyone was gathered before the fireplace in the great room, Grayson waving her over.

  “Gods, you’re a sight,” he whispered, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as she wedged herself beside him on the sofa.

  “Shut it, ferret-face, you’re one to talk,” Juli snarked back.

  Maybe it was a new-found love of the Basin that prompted Grayson to abandon the ridiculous finery of high-collar tunics and suit-tails and lacey sleeves he’d flaunted at the fetes in the city.

  More likely, though, it was Nik.

  Grayson would’ve probably stripped to his undershirt, if Nik asked.

  Her brother settled, though, for easy cotton tunics with canvas pants.

  “Where’s your boyfriend,” Juli demanded under her breath, eyes searching the room for the black-haired beauty her brother worshipped. As if she could stand another night being the buffer between longing glances and awkward would-be flirtations. Not after the fight with Lilah in the field.

  It was an argument they had a thousand times, but the heat and the hunger and the sheer desperation of what their father had done, bringing them
here, had at last bested the sisters.

  It’s your fault, Lilah had screamed. Your fault Mama died!

  At least I was there, Li! Juli had yelled back tearfully. Like always! I’m always the one that stays and takes care of things! The rest of you just—just run off, and I’m left fixing everything!

  Good riddance, leaving that girl in the field.

  And if she could stave off playing intermediary between her brother and Nik, she might actually manage to enjoy tonight.

  “Where is he,” Grayson muttered, quite apparently worried. His pale blue eyes betrayed his thoughts, now, more than ever.

  Not that there was much to worry about.

  It was the Basin.

  It wasn’t like they had a surplus of boys, here, competing for Nik’s attention, and anyway, everyone but Grayson seemed to be able to see Nik’s infatuation with him.

  But they’d keep on, in their ridiculous game of back-and-forth, leaving Grayson exasperated and anxious, Nik, angry and avoidant.

  Not like her and Fin.

  Gods, Finley was…

  Well, Finley was fun.

  Juli was watching Fin, now, as he scooted around the edge of the room, coming to sit cross-legged on the patch of floor in front of her. He leaned back, let her legs straddle his sides as he gave her a playful half-smile over his shoulder before turning to where Bess was shuffling to the armchair.

  Grayson tensed, watching the two of them.

  His anxiety was well-practiced, turning him of late from the angsty adolescent he’d been in the Capital into a thoroughly uptight young man with vastly too many inhibitions.

  “You know what,” Juli whispered, leaning over to Grayson.

  His jaw clenched. “What.”

  And she could see it in his eyes, that he knew what she was going to say.

  “You need to work this out,” Juli breathed, straining to keep herself even. One argument was enough for the night, thank you very much. “You are killing yourself over that boy—”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I am living that every gods-damned—”

  “The two of you just need to fuck,” she bit back, patience snapping. “That’s all it is. Stop being such a prude. Go have a roll in the hay, and everyone’ll feel better.”

  Grayson’s face heated bright red, his knee starting to bounce violently against hers.

  The living room was packed to overflowing, now, but there’d be others, crammed into the hallways, stretched out in the grass beyond the open window, trying to listen. Really, they should’ve moved this somewhere else, but their father was a stickler for tradition, and this was the first house that’d been built in the Basin.

  Nearly a hundred, now, and there were more coming to the Basin every week.

  The problem was, they weren’t the merchants that ought to have followed.

  They were the hopeless.

  The destitute.

  Anyone, thinking food might flow a little easier here, and hope, too.

  They were wrong.

  Winter was fast approaching, and their father had desperately written to the Capital for supplies—supplies that had yet to be requisitioned to him.

  No money didn’t buy a whole hell of a lot.

  Juli had a plan, though.

  Whispers of frost and doom, and she had a plan.

  Her and Fin.

  There were stories. More than stories. Strange people, living in the foothills. Game trails that curled east, too, towards an azure city by the sea. If he could stop brooding, she wouldn’t mind if Grayson went, too, because really, he wasn’t bad with a bow and arrow, and in the end, that meant they’d be no worse off than if they sat on their hands all winter, waiting for something to happen.

  Waiting to freeze to death.

  At least in the wild, they wouldn’t have to hear their father bemoan the injustice of his spendthrift habits.

  By all rights, she probably should’ve wanted Lilah to come along, but Lilah would’ve just scoffed, and given her a lecture about pulling her head out of the clouds.

  Lilah didn’t understand.

  She assumed that Juli, in her optimism, simply didn’t see the hopelessness.

  That wasn’t true.

  Juli saw it.

  And she defied it.

  They’d come so far, wanting to see the world, and see the world they would, foolish or not.

  Chapter 3

  GRAYSON

  Grayson was fuming, shoved in against his sister.

  How dare she.

  Her dark eyes glittered with mischief as she ran her fingers through Fin’s sandy hair, her skin warm against Fin’s porcelain.

  Of all three of them, she was a spitting image of their mother.

  At least, Juli looked like the pictures.

  Never would their mother have looked on Nik with such contempt.

  That’s a lie, Grayson thought bitterly. The thought made his heart hurt. Juli’s right. He’s killing me, and Mom would’ve hated that.

  But with the onyx hair, shining in the firelight against her hopeful-twilight skin, her slender form, light and airy, he sometimes wondered if Juli wasn’t a little bit of their mother’s ghost.

  Nothing like Lilah.

  Lilah, their father’s daughter, except that she’d over-corrected. Her springy curls, what could’ve been loose ringlets, if she’d tried, were just pulled back into a tight braid. It never stopped strands from flying away, though, brushing her prairie-tinged cheeks.

  And then there was Grayson.

  Grayson, with his stupid blue eyes. They were his grandmother’s, and that, he guessed, he didn’t really mind, but still, everyone liked to talk about them. How different they were. How beautiful.

  He’d’ve traded with Juli any day.

  Traded his swallowed resentment for her sharp words, too.

  Gods, it probably felt good, letting them fly so free.

  Bess was sinking into the armchair, grimacing at the effort, now, and the chattering across the great room fell silent as she did so.

  They called her Great Aunt Bess.

  He didn’t know whose aunt she really was. She’d been a governess, when they’d been children in the Capital, and so probably, she was somebody’s aunt. Maybe.

  “Once,” Bess began, “there was a flower garden.”

  Grayson hardly heard the words, though, watching Nik catch his eye from the front door. The son of a smith from the Capital, Nik’s family had been searching for something better beyond the city, and so when they’d had the chance to join the bandwagon and trail after a merchant forging the future of Aerdela, they took it.

  “Be back,” Grayson murmured, pushing himself off the sofa to make for where Nik beckoned him over with a tilt of the head.

  “Gray—”

  He gave her a pointed look, shaking his head. Leave it be, Jules.

  She pursed her lips, gaze reluctantly drifting back to Bess—Bess, whose craggled voice was now droning on about what, Grayson couldn’t have said.

  Nik was grinning as Grayson met him at the door, and wordlessly, he took Grayson’s hand, leading him outside beyond the packed house.

  “What…” But Grayson trailed off, Nik pressing a finger against his lips. He was sooted and glistening, his cotton tunic fixed with a sprig holly in a buttonhole, hugging tight to each and every carved muscle as he turned, pulling Grayson along behind, away from the house.

  They had plans.

  The Basin would be theirs, some day. Grayson was the eldest. He’d inherit this land, and Nik would be at his side.

  They’d dreamed it a thousand times, beneath the stars.

  How lovely it’d be, commanding what would be a real honest-to-goodness city. And if it wasn’t, they’d make it one. The Commissioners would listen to Grayson. Their father was flailing, that much, he could see, but Grayson—he’d been watching, learning, and he’d make the Basin into something great.

  Nik pushed open the barn door, hinges creaking in the s
ilent night.

  It felt wrong, though, to break the quiet music of the Basin with words.

  And so, he let Nik lead him up the ladder, to the hay loft.

  Let Nik fall into the hay with a quiet laugh, dragging Grayson down with him.

  Let Nik unbutton his trousers, tugging them down in between hungry kisses.

  Let Nik roll him over, hands sure as they drifted across Grayson’s hot skin, sparking with anticipation.

  Let Nik fuck him, in the loft, beneath the stars.

  Afterwards, they’d simply laid there.

  Tangled. Inseparable.

  Not a word between them.

  Maybe Juli had been right. There’d been so much back and forth between them, this—this bonded them. Sealed them together. Removed the questions of what it all really meant, the kisses, the drifting hands, the lingering glances.

  “I’m going back to the Capital,” Nik breathed softly, head against Grayson’s.

  Grayson sat up, sure he’d misheard, pure terror turning his stomach to gravel. “What?”

  “Me and Dad. We’re going back.” He pushed himself up, too, giving a small shrug. “Sorry, Gray. Staying here is…it’s complicated. A death sentence, maybe, if things keep on the way they’re going.”

  Grayson’s heart was in his throat, disbelief turning his body into jelly. “Why—no, that—but we…” He trailed off, gesturing between them. “We were supposed to be something. We were going to fix things, here—and I told you, I would never let you starve—”

  Nik’s fingers trailed Grayson’s jaw in a soft stroke. “I know,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry, Gray. I really am.”

  “I—I could come with you—”

  “No,” Nik breathed, sighing. “No, I don’t think that would be wise. I love you. I really do. But we’re already gambling, going back. I can’t support another mouth to feed.”

  “You don’t have to, that—that place is my home, I have connections—”

  “You had connections, Gray.”

  Nik’s words cut deep.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Their father had burned every bridge, on the way out, bankrupted every account, destroyed every lifeline on his march to the Basin.