And I must see this through.
Icy wind whips my hair across my brow. I blink rapidly, trying to unfreeze my eyelashes. Living in Castletree for so long, I truly have gone soft. Winter’s bite has never felt so sharp.
Though to be fair, the Anelkrol Badlands make the capital of Frostfang feel like a summer day.
I pull my heavy jacket tighter and walk down the length of Voidseal Bridge. My weary eyes scan the desolate expanse: Voidseal Bridge is a frozen behemoth, a colossal structure that spans the Great Chasm below. The freezing air burns my nose as I take in a breath, staring straight ahead instead of looking down into the void. Flecks of torchlight flicker around the edge before the whole thing descends into darkness.
It’s been years since I’ve been out here. Not only is it a treacherous journey from Frostfang, but there’s never been anything for the High Prince to do.
All the dealings of the Deep Guard are managed by him.
I reach the watchtower, walking up the steps until I stand beside a flickering torch and a fae man clad in robes of ice blue. The howling wind whips through the jagged rocks of the chasm, a mournful symphony. It carries with it the shouts and orders of Deep Guards as they operate the lifts that lead them down into the chasm or back upon the bridge.
The fae man doesn’t say anything at my approach. Finally, I can take it no longer. “Have you considered my offer, Uncle?”
Irahn says nothing, his visible breath ripped away by the wind. The acrid tang of burning tar stings my nose from all the torches lit. “Speak, Uncle.”
“Aye, I’ve considered it, boy.” My mother’s brother turns to me, his face heavily weathered and wrinkled. He’s the oldest looking fae I’ve ever seen, though not truly the oldest. Years upon years serving on the outskirts of Winter have aged his body.
But not his mind. He’s as sharp as ever.
“And?” I growl.
He turns, gray hair and white cape flapping as he descends the watchtower. “I refuse.”
“Uncle!” I storm after him. “You are my only blood left. Who else am I to pass the Blessing to?”
Irahn throws his hand in the air. “I don’t care! Just keep your politics and magic away from me.”
I take a steadying breath, but every inhale feels like the cold seeps into my bones. I knew Uncle Irahn wouldn’t be easy to convince. That’s why he was the only choice to replace me as High Prince. I’d already put too much faith into power-hungry men like Quellos.
And I see it in the eyes of the Deep Guard, the Winter citizens who have dedicated their lives to the protection of the realms. Voidseal Bridge is a marvel of recent craftsmanship, less than three decades old. It’s a mix of stone and crystalline ice that spreads fifty miles across the chasm. It is home to only the strongest of heart and spirit. Most have lived here since its creation, those who would give up comfort and personal pride in order to make sure the chasm is guarded at all times. Those who serve here look to my uncle as more than a warden. To them, he is a father, a guardian.
That is what Winter deserves in a High Prince.
Something I can never be as long as my selfish heart has rule.
Uncle Irahn storms toward the largest structure on Voidseal, the bridge house. It appears like a small fortress, crafted of ice-covered ironwork and massive stone blocks. A shiver passes through me as we walk through the doors; great fireplaces chase away the badlands’ chill, at least for the moment.
“My office,” Irahn growls. “Now.”
My own steps are as angry as his. “You’re a stubborn old man. I’m offering you more than a throne. I’m offering you glory, the chance to be a hero to the Vale, to be remembered in history for eons—”
We thunder into his office, and he slams the door. “You’re offering me your chains.”
“What?”
Irahn’s eyes darken. “Do you truly think so little of me, nephew? Aye, glory, legacy. These things you offer me like they have any meaning. You know what has meaning? Actually saving lives. Protecting the vulnerable. Being the one shield between us and the Below.”
“I did not intend to insult you.”
My uncle laughs. “I cannot be insulted, boy. All you showed me is you truly have no idea how close we are to seeing everything we love swallowed by the void.”
“I understand you guard the Great Chasm—”
Irahn walks to the window and slams a hand against it. From this vantage, sweeping views of the chasm unfold before my eyes. Icy rock gives way to limitless darkness. On the bridge, watchmen keep vigilant posts, constantly scanning the void. “You know where this leads, don’t you, Kel?”