The aureas slee’s mouth had melted so it could not reply, only make a pitiful moaning sound. Its hailstone eyes also shrank within their sockets, and rolled out.
Nari plunged her hand into the slush of its chest, and she groped and searched for the slee’s cold heart. When she found it, she yanked it out, triumphant. The heart of ice sat upon her hand, and what remained of the aureas slee collapsed and melted into a puddle that was washed away by the rain.
“Nari,” said Enver, his eyes wide as he looked upon her and her prize. He was soaked, his hair stuck to his face. He looked otherwise unharmed from his encounter with the slee. “You have called the south wind. How?”
“One can make friends anywhere,” she replied. It had taken effort, but had been worth it. Now she could take vengeance.
“What will you do now?” he asked.
She gazed at the ice heart. It pulsated with the life of contained winter. It would not melt, and Slee would reform next winter to torment others unless she ended it.
“I must destroy it,” she said.
“Nooo,” came the disembodied voice of the ventos strallis. “There must be balance. Nature must have its ice.” Its words flowed around Nari and caressed her cheek.
“But I do not want Slee to return,” she said.
“Ice must return, but it does not have to be in the guise of the elemental now melted,” the ventos strallis replied.
“What do you mean? How can this be accomplished?”
“You,” the ventos strallis said, “may draw the heart of ice into yourself. You may bring balance.”
Nari weighed the heart in her hand. Long had she lived, and so much had changed since Slee had taken her captive. Her love, Hadwyr, was long dead, but that loss stung her as new as the spring wind. Her sister was gone from the world, and Argenthyne destroyed. Little of what she had once known remained.
“Nari,” Enver said, “you are not truly considering this, are you?”
“I have no one, and nowhere to go,” she replied, “and I grow weary.”
“You would be welcomed in the Elt Wood. There are those of Argenthyne who would greet you.”
She shook her head. “My time is past. I would just take the Great Sleep. Or, I could do some good in the world.”
Enver nodded and touched her arm. “I will look for you when autumn freezes into winter.”
Nari smiled. She pressed the heart of ice against her chest, first feeling how cold it was, but then it sent a welcoming warmth tingling through her body. She took a deep breath and pushed it into herself and was Nari no longer, substantial no longer, but the element that was of the ice. She turned to vapor and drifted to the clouds, and whispered, “I am the aureas narivannis.” She had sought, and at last found, completion.
AFTERMATH
When the giant hand of snow had crumbled apart and Karigan tumbled out, Zachary had helped her to her feet, thrown his arm around her shoulders, and run her to safety against the curtain wall, where they stood hidden in deep shadow. He drew her against him, wished that his breastplate was not between them so he could feel her heart beat against his chest.
“Thank the gods,” he murmured over and over. “Thank the gods you are all right.” Overcome by having nearly lost her yet again, and by equal measures of relief that he had not, he kissed her hair, her eyes, her face, her lips, but she gasped and wrenched herself free of his embrace.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I presume too much.” His urgent need to be physically close to her had caused him to trespass.
“I—” It was hard to see her expression in the dark. “My back—your embrace and the breastplate—it hurt. That is all.”
“Oh gods, Karigan, I’m sorry!” The last thing he’d wanted to do was cause her pain, but he’d been so caught up in the moment. He glanced over his shoulder through the slackening rain and saw that the aureas slee was no more, and when he reassured himself that the fighting had not reignited, he returned his attention to Karigan. “In my relief, I forgot. I’m so sorry.” But was her reason for pulling away true, or was she just trying to spare his feelings?
He was answered when she took his hands into hers and leaned in for a sweet, lingering kiss, of which he had only dreamed until now. He discovered the reality was, in fact, far better than the dream. This time, when she moved in closer to him, he held her gently, placing no pressure against her back. Then he forgot all else, even the rain soaking them.
When finally they parted, there was some shyness between them, and he imagined a radiance expanded between them, engulfed and bound them. Imagined? No, felt it. She had stolen his heart long ago, and gave to him, in return, an intrinsic part of herself. He held her, their foreheads touching.
After a time, Karigan said, “I think you need to see to your people. Your people who were slaves. They’re in the chamber of the Aeon Iire and need their king.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do not let anyone touch the iire,” she warned him. “It is not meant for the living.”
“I understand.” He could not resist brushing her lips with another kiss. Reluctantly he let her go, turned, and nearly plowed into Enver. As disconcerting as Zachary found it, Enver’s expression showed little emotion, though his eyes told the truth of what he’d seen. There was sorrow, and something steely cold in their depths.
Enver told them what had become of Nari and the aureas slee, and then promised to keep Karigan safe as Zachary attended to his people.