Snow Like Ashes(114)

“I know, I just—” I stop short, and Mather pivots back to me.

“I know,” he echoes, and the smile he gives me is genuine. He shifts again, tightening the reins in his hands. “If either of us should feel bad, it’s me. William told us the truth after you were captured, and all I could think was: you’re the one who has the responsibility now. I’m free.”

Mather keeps his gaze firmly on the horizon as he talks, and if I hadn’t been looking at him, I might’ve accepted his lighthearted tone, his jovial manner. But I watch his face as he speaks, watch the way his eyes narrow, his lips pull into a thin line. There’s far too much truth in what he says. I’m free.

Maybe it’s not a freedom he wants.

“When I was in Cordell,” I start, “and I had to play the part of their future queen, I pretended I was—” My words catch and I chuckle. “I pretended I was you.”

My confession hangs in the air, a whispered strand of words that hovers in the falling flakes of snow. Mather smiles at me through it, some of his tension softening before he drops his head in a small bow.

“My queen,” he says in response. He kicks his horse into a gallop that sends them both launching into the running horde, another body racing for Jannuari’s wall.

I watch him go, my chest unwinding. We’re really here. Jannuari. A city I’ve only seen in memories and dreams, its cobblestone streets, its cottages. The way snow falls constantly, an ever-present rain of perfect, unique flakes. It needs to snow. It needs to always snow.

Something wet tingles my nose. I look up, my mouth opening in a true, pure grin. Snowflakes fall now, steady and strong, pouring down all the way to Jannuari. Covering us as we should be covered—in winter. Breathtaking, frozen, perfect winter.

I urge my horse into a gallop, the steady beating of his hooves chasing after the others toward Jannuari, a place of snow and light.

Your city.

Hannah’s voice fills my senses, pulls up from the conduit magic that resides in me. She could talk to me all along, it appears, but didn’t want to risk revealing what I am to Angra, which is why she never stopped us from looking for the locket halves. It was all a cover to protect Winter’s line, and the dreams and visions were meant to ease me into conduits and magic, being linked to her in a way I never thought possible. My mother. I still have trouble adjusting to having a mother at all. I’m not sure where it fits in this new world.

Our city, I amend. We wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you.

A knot of sadness forms in my head, Hannah’s regret and pain. But you will succeed where I failed. She pauses, and I can feel a wave of her remorse in the silence. I wanted to tell you. So many times, I wanted to speak to you. I couldn’t risk you realizing who you are before you were old enough to use your magic, and if Angra found out what you are when you were still too young … She pauses, gasps. Our kingdom would have been lost forever.

I know, I say. It’s all I can say. Today isn’t a day for tearful apologies. Today is a day for inhaling the cold, snowy air, watching the Winterians as I gallop through them, seeing their smiling, radiant faces.

I spot Nessa up ahead, laughing and throwing snowballs at Conall. I see Dendera on her own horse, racing Henn to the wall. Happy and free, like they always should have been. People in the light, not just words in the dark.

It doesn’t feel real. I’ve tried so long and so hard to be just Meira, but who I am isn’t as simple as just anything. It’s like this snowstorm over Jannuari—one flake falls, twisting down through the empty sky. One frozen speck of snow. Then another, and another, and before I know it the roads will be covered in dozens of distinct flakes. All these little pieces combining to create one giant, volatile snowstorm, something beautiful and dangerous and epic.

I’m Hannah’s daughter. I’m Winter’s conduit. I’m a warrior, a soldier, a lady, a queen, and most of all, as I plunge across the snowfield toward Jannuari’s silent ruin, I’m Meira.

And no matter what Angra might try to do, he will not stop me from washing away the ashes of this kingdom’s past and filling our lives with the glorious icy peace of snow.