Frost & Shadow

Chapter Sixteen

The ruins still stank of smoke and blood.

I kept my gaze fixed on the cracked stone beneath my boots, forcing myself not to look at the place where Daren had fallen. Every step I took echoed unnaturally, bouncing off the fractured pillars and shattered walls. The air was thick, heavy with the iron tang of dried blood and the acrid bite of something darker, something I couldn’t name. My skin prickled with it, like tiny sparks crawling beneath my flesh.

When the guardians dispersed, their movements stiff and quiet, I finally turned to Fen and Aelith.

“What was the point of this?” My voice came sharper than I intended, cracking under the weight of everything I’d swallowed since stepping into this world. “I was told there’d be a mission, something I had to do before the first trial. But all I’ve done is watch one of your men die.”

Fen’s gaze flicked toward Aelith, as if passing the burden of answering. Aelith smoothed her palms over her skirts, her usual composure fraying just slightly at the edges.

“You were meant to see,” she said carefully, voice measured, yet still uneven. “To understand why the trials exist at all. These ruins, these cracks… they’re not relics of history. They’re… alive. Growing.”

I clenched my jaw, anger and frustration tangling in my chest. “And how does me watching that help anything? You could have told me the story back in Kaelora. I didn’t need to be dragged halfway across the realm just to feel sick to my stomach.”

Fen stepped closer, shadows coiling faintly around his boots, thick as smoke, writhing almost possessively. “Words aren’t enough,” he said, low, deliberate. “You had to see it to believe it.”

I hated the way my pulse jumped at his nearness, hated that the steady, unshakable certainty in his voice cut through my fear and made the truth impossible to ignore. If I’d only heard of what happened to Daren, I would have dismissed it as rumor, as exaggeration, as a story meant to scare the inexperienced. But I had seen it—the black veins crawling across his skin, the madness hollowing out his eyes. That image had burned itself into my mind. I could never unsee it.

Still, seeing it wasn’t enough. I needed answers. I needed a purpose, something tangible to cling to.

“So what now?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. “Because if the point of dragging me here was just to scare me, congratulations. It worked. But Aurelis said I had to prove myself before I could face the first trial. How does standing here with my stomach in knots count as proving anything?”

Aelith hesitated, then exchanged a look with Fen. Something passed between them—a conversation too silent for me to catch, an agreement that didn’t include my ears.

Finally, Fen spoke. “The fractures must be sealed. Temporarily, until the trials determine if you’re strong enough to restore the pact.” His voice was measured, but the weight behind it pressed down, heavy, almost suffocating. “That is your task.”

I blinked, throat suddenly dry, my hands flexing against my sides. “Sealed? How?”

“You’ll know,” Aelith said softly, stepping forward, her voice low, almost hesitant. “The pact’s bloodline always has. If the magic still stirs in you… the ruins will answer.”

My stomach dropped. I almost laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “So what—you’re telling me I’m supposed to walk up to a crack bleeding black sickness into the air and… what? Wave my hands until it closes?”

Neither corrected me. Neither explained further.

I turned back toward the largest fracture, the one in the center of the ruins that throbbed like a wounded heart. My palms were clammy as I drew closer. The stone around it was warm beneath my fingers, pulsing faintly, a sickly heartbeat that almost felt alive. I could smell something in it—a deep, musky scent, like wet earth and rot—and I realized it was alive.

Just try, I told myself. Do something.

I pressed my hands against the stone, closing my eyes and forcing all the fear, all the hope, all the desperation coursing through me into it. I thought of my brother’s hollow face, my mother’s silence, the endless frost creeping through my village like a living thing.

But nothing happened.

The stone didn’t shift. The black veins didn’t falter. Only the ruins’ strange, choking breath pressed harder against my chest, stealing my air, making my legs wobble. I stumbled back, gasping, tasting dust and iron on my tongue. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure the cracks themselves could hear it.

Silence stretched. The guardians didn’t move. Aelith’s lips pressed into a thin line. Fen’s expression remained unreadable, though the faint coil of shadow at his boots betrayed his tension.

“That’s it?” I demanded, voice cracking under the raw weight of panic and frustration. “That’s supposed to mean something? What if I can’t do it? What if you dragged me here just to prove I was the wrong one all along?”

Fen’s gaze narrowed. “If that were true, the archway never would have opened for you that day.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s not working!” I snapped, flinching as my fists balled at my sides.

Aelith stepped forward, calm but still trembling at the edges of her voice. “You can return to Kaelora with us and tell Aurelis you tried. That is enough, Laine. He will understand.”

I shook my head violently, the motion jerking my hair into my eyes. “No. If this is the first step, then I’m not running back to say I failed. I’m not going home to tell my family there’s no food coming, no warmth, nothing. I’ll stay. I’ll figure it out.”

For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Fen inclined his head once. “Then we stay.”

The guardians offered us a corner of their small settlement, a scattering of canvas shelters and fire pits nestled against the outer wall of the ruins. By the time camp was set, stars had begun to scatter across the sky, cold and white above the strange pulsing glow of the fractures. The ruins seemed to breathe beneath the dim starlight, shadows pooling and stretching across broken pillars.

I couldn’t sit still. I paced the perimeter, boots crunching softly over loose stone. Every time I glanced at the fractures, my chest tightened, and the pull of the cracks lingered, subtle and insistent. What am I missing?

I pressed my fists to my temples, forcing myself to breathe. Magic. The pact. Aelith’s words echoed in my skull: The pact’s bloodline always knows.

But I didn’t feel magic. I felt tired. Small. Too human.

Still, I circled the ruins again and again, fingers brushing against cool stone, listening to the faint hum of power, trying to catch any flicker that might be mine. One more look. One more touch. Maybe—just maybe—I’d see the answer.

Because failure wasn’t an option. Not when two worlds depended on me.