Thread of Frost

Ch. 3: Do Your Worst

Anna found them at the beach.

Then again, she thought, it would have been difficult to miss them; a raised dais had been erected on the sand, and flames shot up like fireworks. A dragon screeched. Everything smelled of salt air and hot metal and sweat. She pushed her way through the knot of people, leaning against the ropes.

Mack and Alfie Agnirian circled one another. Mack was twirling his sword, his face narrowed in concentration, while Alfie held twin axes. Or maybe it was the other way around; she could never quite tell them apart.

One twin lunged. The other parried.

"Not bad," a female voice said.

Anna turned.

Seraena stood behind her, dressed in black armour. Her dark hair was braided away from her face, threaded with golden ribbon, and a small dragon cuff curled around one ear. She was wearing a crown, Anna noted, although she was also wearing shabby sandals and her cheek was smudged with dirt.

Anna crossed her arms. "Who's your rukka on?"

Seraena considered this. "Mack."

"Alfie's smaller," Anna said.

"And smarter." Seraena shielded her eyes, looking up at the dais. "He knows how to wind his brother up. Watch."

Anna squinted up at the raised platform. Sure enough, Alfie leaned in, his voice low and taunting, and Mack growled. The larger twin barrelled forward. Alfie waited until the last second and then jumped aside, spinning around to club his brother in the back. Cheers rose as Mack collapsed to the mat.

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Good call, Your Radiance."

Seraena gave her a wry smile. "Alfie and I spent most of our childhoods hiding in plant pots. Eventually, you learn to fight back." She glanced around, lowering her voice. "Have you had any success with your hunt for God-Slayer?"

Anna shook her head. "Not yet."

She and Ryne had combed through dozens of books, each of which was more confusing than the last. God-Slayer was a myth, and God-Slayer was real; God-Slayer could only be wielded by one person, and God-Slayer could be wielded by everyone; God-Slayer was forged by the gods, and God-Slayer was made to destroy them.

It was maddening.

What they needed, Anna thought, was someone good with books. What they needed...

A lump rose in her throat.

What they needed was Camille. Which wasn't going to happen, obviously.

She met Seraena's gaze. "Have you had any news from Wynterlynn?"

"Not yet," Seraena said. "The seas are choppy, and most ravens would struggle to make the journey." She touched her dragon earring: a quick, instinctive gesture. "We're reliant on the next boat to dock, I'm afraid."

"And my proposal?" Anna asked. "Have you considered it?"

Seraena pursed her lips. When she spoke, her voice was measured.

"Have you ever played Dragon Scales?" Anna shook her head, and Seraena nodded. "No, I don't suppose you would have; they don't have it in Wynterlynn. My uncle taught it to me when I was very young. The rules are simple: the first player to find the matching set of dragons in the card deck wins."

Anna shielded her eyes. "I don't care much for games of chance."

"Nor do I," Seraena said. "But there's a way that you can stack the deck to increase your odds of winning." Her eyes were warm amber. "That was the most important lesson that Arlo taught me: do not begin a game without the advantage."