It didn't take long for Jag to secure the extra sleighs. Ashen wasn't too keen on having their group separated, but her suspicions of the Frost Weavers lessened when she actually saw their sleigh. It was small. More space than the two of them would need, but it wouldn't comfortably fit more than five people. In fact, it wouldn't have uncomfortably fit more than five people. So, she, Jag, and Peder rode in the back row while the two Frost Weavers shared the front. The coloring of their two horses had surprised Ashen—and Peder, by the look on his face. Neither had ever seen a white horse before. Jag must have, because he dismissed their questions rather quickly. Now that he was in Calarian, he seemed somehow less keen to discuss the kingdom.
Ashen didn't press the issue. She had an idea of how he felt. She hadn't liked talking about Azure—or Nikolai—for the past seventeen years. It had only gotten worse once Arrow was dead. She had hated the kingdom for what had happened to her parents.
She frowned. Jag had never mentioned his parents. She'd heard stories of Frost Weavers killing the parents or families of young Weavers when the council came to collect them. That would explain why he despised his sister so much. Her being a Frost Weaver might have cost his parents their lives.
Leaning closer to the front row of the sleigh, Ashen asked, "How long will it take to reach the capital?"
The female Frost Weaver did not glance back as she replied, "Several hours."
Hours . . . she couldn't see her father for hours! Smiegal might have already killed the council by the time she arrived in the city. Then the Frost Weavers—maybe even the ones in front of her—would end George's life in retaliation.
"Is there anything we could do to make this thing go faster?"
"No."
"You could ice the runners," Jag murmured. Ashen turned to look at him.
"Would that work?"
"Yes," Jag said, but Ashen was looking at the Frost Weavers. They hesitated.
"Perhaps," the woman said after a moment. "It is . . . risky."
For the first time since they had gotten into the carriage, Peder spoke.
"Your council is in danger," he reminded them. "The Kingslayers could have reached the capital by now. What will happen to your rule if the revolutionaries slaughter your leaders?"
"They could not have reached the capital, not yet," the man said.
Ashen shook her head. "We don't know that. Smiegal left East Sienna hours before we did. Even if he didn't beat us here, he might have supporters in the city. There's no guarantee they will wait for Smiegal to arrive to attack."
Sighing, the woman said, "Deva, stop."
The man—Deva—tugged on the reigns. As the sleigh slowed, Ashen realized that Deva always let the woman make decisions for the two of them. They were not in a relationship—Deva was much too old for the girl, and Frost Weavers did not have relationships or feelings of affection. No, she was his superior. To Ashen's knowledge, the Frost Weavers didn't have ranks like soldiers did. The only Frost Weavers above the rest were those on the council.
"You're one of them, aren't you?" she demanded as Deva climbed out of the sleigh. The woman did not look back at her.
"You will have to be more specific if you expect an answer."
"A member of the council," Ashen stated. She felt Jag tense beside her.
"Yes," the woman told her. "I am."
"Of course," Peder said. "They would only trust something this important to one of their leaders."
"Rightfully so," the woman replied.
"And one of them would be alive to murder George if the Kingslayers managed to kill the others," Jag muttered.
"One of us would be alive to lead this kingdom," corrected the woman. "Not everything we do is in the pursuit of cruelty."
"Could have fooled me."
The air chilled. Ashen peered past Jag over the side of the sleigh. Deva had his hands extended towards the runners. Ice seemed to permeate from his hands, dispersing through the air like smoke. Frost spread across the runners. In seconds, the runners were coated in a thin layer of ice. The Weaver took a moment to survey his work, then walked around the front to do the other side. Once both were ready, he nodded to the woman. Only at her command did he return to the sleigh.
Ashen fingered her pendant as Deva flicked the reins. The horses began to trot, then broke into a run. The sleigh jolted as its runners slid across the ground. Immediately, Ashen could tell that Jag was right—the sleigh did travel faster on the roads.
Turning towards him, she asked, "How did you know this would work?"
"I've seen other Weavers do it, usually when they need to get from the capital to the villages in a hurry."
"Any idea how long it should take now?"
He shrugged. "An hour, probably. If Smiegal is still making his way there, we might get there first."
"What if he is already there?" Peder asked. Ashen glanced at him. "What do we do if he has already killed them and is leaving the kingdom?"
Ashen lowered her voice. "We free George. I am not going to let these ice demons kill him."
"You will not have choice," the woman said from the front. Ashen scowled.
"It's not George's fault—or ours—if we're too late. If anything, it's your council's fault that they couldn't defeat an army of mortals."
"We do not know that all of the Kingslayers are humans," Peder noted. "Smiegal can control fire; your brother is a sorcerer. It is quite possible that the other revolutionaries have abilities as well."
"The Kingslayers' leader controls fire?" the woman demanded.
"Yes," Ashen said, "but even so, your council should be able to handle it."
"Perhaps," Deva murmured. "Unless he has other Weavers with him."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "They must be mistaken. The Flame Weavers have been extinct for over a century."
"Smiegal was able to summon flames," Peder told them. "He tried to kill me with them and badly burned Ashen."
The Weavers exchanged glances. Ashen's fingers went to her arm, though the burns were gone. Her healing elixir had repaired most of the damaged skin, but there was slight scarring near her wrist; a permanent reminder of what Smiegal had become.
"We must alert the council to this," the woman said suddenly. She flicked the reigns and the horses broke into a run. Ashen tensed. Peder gripped the side of the sleigh so as not to be thrown forward. Jag gritted his teeth. It took several minutes for the three to relax at least somewhat.
Leaning against the back of the sleigh, Ashen thought about what the woman had said. The Flame Weavers were believed to be extinct. Even if they weren't, Smiegal was a Viridian. How could he have gotten that ability? Not from his father. Viridians were mortal. It was their lack of magic that had sparked their war against those who did. Peder could manipulate air because his mother was a Fairy. Was it possible that Smiegal's mother was a Weaver? Smiegal never liked to speak of her; perhaps that was why.
"Your aunt Daniela," Ashen said, glancing at Peder. "Where was she born?"
"Queen Daniela?" Ashen nodded. "My father said she hailed from Celadon. She was their princess before my uncle Ignus conquered the island."
"Could she have been a Weaver?"
Peder opened his mouth to speak, but Jag answered, "No."
Ashen's brow furrowed. "Why not?"
"Weavers are strongest near Calarian. They wouldn't go to Viridian, especially not with the hunts."
"How can Smiegal control fire, then?" Ashen asked.
"Fairy blood, perhaps?"
Shaking his head, Peder replied, "Fairies can only manipulate air and nature."
"Besides," Ashen said, "I've seen him handle iron before."
"It doesn't really matter what he is," Jag said. "What matters is killing him before he can kill everyone else, right?"
He was looking at Ashen as he spoke. Her eyes narrowed.
"We already discussed this, multiple times. Killing Smiegal will only make him a martyr. The best way to stop the Kingslayers is to keep him alive, but captive. Without him to encourage them, their movement will lose its drive."
"We hope," said Peder. "It might also give them hope that they can free him. Ending his life will send a message that their revolution will not be tolerated."
"Or it will convince them that what they're doing is right. His death will seem like yet another injustice from royals."
"So?" Jag asked. "Smiegal is the one we're worried about. If he lives, he's still a threat, and the royals will be willing to do anything to stop him. How long until word spreads what the Frost Weavers did? How long until the other nobles start coming after you and George to force Smiegal to back down?"
"It's not as though I can't defend myself," Ashen snapped.
Jag raised his eyebrows. "And George?"
"We were caught off guard this time," she said. "That won't happen again."
"No, it will not," Peder agreed. "because if you cannot kill Smiegal, I will."