Frozen Sector by Anna Edwards

Author:Anna Edwards [Edwards, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-03T07:00:00+00:00

12

Vaegon

I know the second Fraeya leaves the safety of the cave and teleports to wherever. I can sense she’s still close, though, so I allow her this moment, especially as Santa is with her. I can sense there’s something wrong with him, but he’ll never hurt one of his elves. All I can put it down to is the stress of living alone in a cave for so long. It’s enough to destroy even the jolliest person’s resilience. I am struggling to sleep—I’m still uneasy about everything, and Fraeya’s absence doesn’t help. I just can’t understand who’d have the power to bind our ancient magic that way. It’s frustrating being able to call my sword and see it but not hold it. I’ve been so lost without it for the last few years.

I know I’m never going to get to sleep while in this frame of mind. I swing my legs around and stand up. Aego stirs next to me.

“Vaegon?” His voice is thick with sleep.

“Go back to sleep. It’s ok. I’m just restless. I’ll go for a walk, and then when I return, I’ll be able to drift off,” I reassure him

“Ok.” Aego’s eyes are shut again before he even sounds out the ‘k’. Two seconds later, a snore comes from him. Despite everything, I had a good sleep the previous night with Fraeya at my side, and I have my full strength and muscular physique back. The other elves aren’t as lucky at the moment. They still look weak, and I’m not sure they’ve slept well since they saw me being beaten by Juan and thought I was dead.

I start to head for the mouth of the cave but change my mind. When I was training, I often explored this place. I remember carving a message for Fraeya on the walls deep inside the cave. Something urges me to turn back and find it. I step carefully, so I don’t disturb the other elves, and my footsteps take me deeper and deeper into the darkness. When I’m away from their view, I call forth my sword. I might not be able to touch it, but I can travel with it, and its glow will light my way. The air is chilly—the first thing I’ll be glad to do when I get back to our home at the North Pole is source a change of warmer clothes. My current shorts and little else are pretty disgusting and useless against the lower temperatures. I rub my hands over my arms to try to warm myself up. A cold breath of air flows from my mouth. How the hell has Santa been surviving here? He’s not as tolerant of the cold as we elves are. He’d often have warm fires lit around the Grotto where we all worked.

A fleeting memory comes to me of taking him a toy one year. It was one I’d developed on my own. I know many people think the legend of Santa Claus is crap, but he’s as real as people need him to be.

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