Chris Evans - Ashes of a Black Frost

She brought one arm up to shield her face as she peered ahead, trying to find Konowa. There was so much flickering light and shadow that it took her a minute to find the spot she’d last seen him. She realized suddenly she hoped to see his body lying on the ground. It sounded perverse even as she thought it, but the logic was sound. If he was dead, there would be nothing left, but if he was only wounded, he would still be there.

She scoured the ground ahead looking for any sign at all of the body of the elf she loved. She found him a moment later, but despite the horrors she had already witnessed, she wasn’t prepared for what she saw.

I’m dead . Surprisingly, it didn’t feel strange to think it. He tried out the concept again. I’m dead, I’m really dead.

Something distant and loud echoed in the space around him, but he couldn’t put any meaning to it. Everything was dark, not black exactly, more like the absence of. . anything.

He tried to move, but the process by which that happened escaped him. For all that he didn’t feel trapped. It was as if he knew he could travel wherever he wanted, but he had no desire to go anywhere or do anything, so the fact that he couldn’t move was moot.

The noise sounded closer. It was more distinct now, like a huge drum being beaten. . or a cannon firing. He thought it strange he could hear that in the afterlife, but then again, why not? The Blood Oath meant he wasn’t really gone, not all the way.

The thought was comforting. He realized he wasn’t ready to leave this world, not yet. His nose itched and he wanted to scratch it, but his arms still wouldn’t move. Wait a second. If my nose is itchy. . oh bloody he -

“-EELLLLLLLL!” Konowa yelled, his eyes flying open. Spots flickered in front of his eyes making it impossible to see anything clearly. He kept yelling, knowing that the moment he stopped he was going to experience something he had no desire to feel. He yelled until his whole body was rigid and shaking and his throat on fire. Finally, he closed his eyes and took in a breath, and with it the pain.

“. . mother,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes and rolling down the side of his face. If he’d had a pistol in his hand and the energy to lift it he would have put it to his head and ended it all. Never in his life had he felt pain like this. This wasn’t possible. It was as if he was being frozen from the inside out. He could feel tiny, razor-sharp pieces of frost growing like crystal inside his body. The agony was so pure he could have cut diamonds with it.

“I’m here my son, I’m here,” Chayii said, her voice coming to him like a rope to a drowning elf.

“What’s happening?” he asked, unable to open his eyes again as the pain robbed him of the ability to do little more than breathe.

“The blade is still in you, my son. That is why you are suffering. Hold on a little longer.”

Konowa tried to make sense of what she was saying. What blade? He couldn’t remember how he got here, everything was fuzzy and out of order. His memory lay scattered about his mind like a spilled deck of playing cards. Images flashed in his mind, of sliding, of black fire, of rakkes, of-

“Kritton!” He opened his eyes again and forced them to look to his left. A dark, shimmering, ethereal blade protruded from his shoulder. The shoulder itself was sheathed in black ice like an armor suit. That’s what saved me, he realized, also understanding that it was the power of the frost fire that now kept the blade firmly lodged in his flesh. The blade faded in and out of sight, and as it did the pain ebbed and flowed like the tides. “Pull it out! Bloody hell, pull the damn thing out!”

Now that he knew the source of the pain he found strength in his limbs. He thrashed and cursed and spit and dug his heels into the dirt as the pain wracked him. He tried to reach the blade to pull it out himself, but when his hand grasped the shadowy pommel it closed around nothing. It was as if the blade really was just shadow. There was nothing to hold on to.

“You see our dilemma,” Pimmer said, coming into view. “We’ve tried all manner of ways to remove the blade, but thus far none have worked.”

“We haven’t tried my idea yet,” Yimt said, barging forward. The Viceroy started to object then thought better of it and disappeared. Yimt knelt beside Konowa and laid a hand on his right arm. Even through the pain, Konowa could tell the dwarf had been crying.

“You remember Ally took that black arrow in his leg. He lost the leg, but he survived. Miss Red Owl, er, your mother, helped with that.”

Konowa felt colder still. “You want to cut off my arm?”

“This thing is killing you. If we don’t do something soon you’re going to be a solid block of ice.”

Konowa knew it was true. He could feel the frost fire inside him. It had never done that before.

His back arched as a new surge of pain raced through his body. “Okay,” he panted, “let’s call that. . plan B. Mother, can’t you do some magic and get it out?”

She leaned forward so that her face was above his. “My child, this is beyond my power, and even if your father were himself, I do not think he could do it either.”

“Visyna?”

There was a pause before Chayii answered. “She is. . too weak right now. But have faith, we will find a way.”

“Renwar,” Konowa said, his mind reeling through the list of people he knew with magical powers. It was surprisingly large. “He’s part of their world. Can’t he pull it out?”

The silence that greeted his question triggered something in Konowa’s memory.

“The explosion. .”

“There’s a massive crater where Ally was fighting that thing,” Yimt said. His voice deepened with the effort to recall the events. “You should have seen him, Major. Bravest lad I ever knew. He did himself proud.”

Even in his pain, Konowa could hear the hurt in Yimt’s voice. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t lit the sled on fire-”

Yimt squeezed his arm. “You did what you had to do, Major, just like Ally. He’d already made his choice long before that sled exploded. Besides, if he is dead. .”

Konowa understood. If Alwyn was dead, they would see him again.

“Could one of the other shades get this thing out of my shoulder?”

Yimt coughed before answering. “They’re gone. When we all picked ourselves up after the explosion the DD and even the rakke dead just vanished. Can’t find a trace of them anywhere.”

A cannon boomed nearby. “The battle is still going on?” Konowa asked.

“Still hundreds of regular old rakkes running around. We’re holding them off, but that’s about it.”

Something wasn’t adding up. “How are the cannons firing? We ran out of shot for them.”

“That was the Viceroy’s second idea. He took chunks of those dragon sarka har you went flying with and stuffed them down the cannon barrels. Not exactly standard procedure, but credit where it’s due, those things tear up rakkes like a hungry dog with a bone.”

It was an image Konowa could have done without. “The regiment. We need to get out of here.”

“We’re working on it,” Yimt said. He looked away for a second and then back at Konowa. His smile was alarming. “Miss Synjyn is coming. She’ll get you right as rain.”

Everything went black. When Konowa opened his eyes again, Rallie was kneeling on his left side. She held a sheaf of papers in one hand and a quill in the other. The end of a lit cigar glowed cherry red clenched between her teeth. He coughed and blew cigar smoke out of his lungs. “So what’s the verdict?”

Rallie looked up from her papers. “I’m drawing you a new reality, one that doesn’t include a sword of shadow stuck in your shoulder.”