In the pale chill of sunrise, Althea drifted through the lull of early market goers through Lantris. A fountain of ice sparkled in solitude, water trickling down slowly as if it were melting. Althea looked upon it wistfully, knowing she was leaving it and all the rest behind.

  She reached Isold’s temple when the pink faded from the sky and clouds. It was the tallest structure within the city limits, constructed entirely from the blue of melt-proof ice. Althea thought it was far more beautiful than Queen Theophilia’s castle. Even at the end of spring, it carved itself between trees in bloom like a reminder of when the world was covered in snow and ice.

  Althea was greeted by a young priest.

  “Please come in, Althea,” He smiled happily at her presence. She smiled back, remembering him in the hallways of Isold’s academy, a teacher of simple ice spells.

  “I wish to request an audience with Isold,” She said, interrupting as the priest was about to open his mouth.

  “Ah,” He said, looking ethereal in white flowing robes, “That may not be possible.”

  Althea frowned. “Why?”

  “She speaks with us less and less,” He explained with as much tact as he could muster, gesturing for her to follow him past statues and fountains. They reached a courtyard with trees in bloom. Pale pink and white flower petals rained from them gently, almost like snow. Priests and priestesses sat on ice benches, leisurely reading or practicing spells. One priestess was reinforcing a statue shaped like one of the trees. It was eerie juxtaposed with the others. It reminded her of the very real human statue that Arévis had created last night. She shuddered and looked away.

  They finally approached Isold’s sacred chambers. The door was sealed.

  “Stand back, please,” The priest istructed.

  The door compressed to open, and the sound of ice on ice gave way to a cloud of frost. Althea shivered. She nodded to the priest in thanks, and stepped inside.

  The door shut behind her and it was like stepping into one of Arévis’ chests enchanted with cold. It was a cave covered in ice crystals and housing a single statue of Isold, white and opaque.

  “I request your presence, Isold, Goddess of Ice. You control rivers for our beloved Lantris. You build structures of grace and strength. You tame the cold for our needs. You bring order and peace to our people.”

  Althea bowed, feeling foolish. Could Isold hear her? Was the statue merely a symbol of Isold, or the goddess herself, hibernating?

  After long, painful moments, Althea rose, ready to heed the priest’s advice.

  She reached the iced door, but paused, unable to bring herself to touch the frozen surface. Instead, she turned, gazing at the impenetrable statue, wondering why it was not the cold blue of the temple, or the transparent clarity of countless other statues.

  Curious, she touched just the hand of Isold, poised in such a position that it looked as if it were reaching for her. The cold bit at her finger. Althea drew back, curling her hand into a fist, disappointed. She turned again to try the door.

  Before she could even complete a step, she heard the high-pitched squeak of ice moving against itself.

  She whirled around to witness the statue’s transformation. The creaking and shifting turned to cracking as the long limbs moved from stasis. The white crumbled away like powder, and there stood the goddess herself, glorious and pale like the early dawn.

  Isold wore a crown like Theophilia’s, but grander—thin spires of ice arranged tightly together. Her gown looked like the finest, thinnest silk Althea had ever seen. Staring at her curiously were intense ice blue eyes.

  “Althea, the fishers’ daughter.” Isold said, her voice piercing in the otherwise quiet.

  Instead of speaking, Althea fell to her knees, awe-stricken.

  “I’ve heard much about you.” Isold said, unbothered. “They tell me you’re a promising student at the academy.”

  Althea nodded, raising her head to watch the goddess move like she hadn’t in centuries. Her limbs were coated in ice still, and she moved them jerkily to circle her small chamber. The long train of her gown and the thin white of her hair trailed behind her. She was unimaginably old, but though her face revealed a hard sort of poise about it, she hardly looked aged.

  “My goddess,” Althea choked out, flattered that Isold knew her by name, “I’ve summoned you for a blessing.”

  Isold regarded her and tilted her head, shifting her shoulders and neck like a marionette.

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  “Why do you need my help? From what I hear, you’re quite capable,” The frosty bite of her voice stung.

  “I thank you,” Althea’s voice quivered, “But I wish only for the survival of my friends. That is not something that I can entirely guarantee myself.”

  Isold smiled at that.

  “Who better to ask than a master of death itself?” Isold mused, observing her own hand while stretching her long, pale fingers.

  “This secret, I share with no one,” Isold said, dropping her hand and facing her fully. Her eyes were terrifying.

  Althea sharply took in a breath, trying to suppress her instinctual anger.

  “I know, my goddess,” Althea said, trying for politeness, “I only wish for a blessing… something to keep my friends Terran and Arévis alive for our journey to the forest.”

  At this, Isold froze in place.

  “Arévis…”

  Althea swallowed thickly.

  “I always thought you would stay here, Althea,” She said, to her surprise, “You would make an excellent healer for Lantris.”

  “Thank you, my goddess,” Althea said quickly, “But the beauty and peace you have created… are complete. There is nothing I could do here that another could not also do.”

  Isold nodded, a look of understanding overcoming her. “You crave greater things.”

  Althea waited in silence as Isold stopped in front of her and to her surprise, took her hands. They were surprisingly gentle, but the cold of them still nipped at her flesh. Isold lifted her so that she stood face to face with the taller woman.

  “Are you loyal to Lantris, Althea? Loyal to your kingdom and your goddess?” Isold asked, her voice utterly serious.

  “Of course!” Althea said.

  “Then I would ask of you only this: return here after all you have learned on your journeys, and come to see me when you are the most powerful mortal of your time.”

  Althea stared, dumbfounded.

  “I cannot promise you that I will ever be so powerful, or that I will live to return here, but I can promise you my loyalty.”

  Isold looked into her eyes, searching with that frozen gaze, full of centuries of wisdom.

  In her hand, she summoned an ice crystal, hardened it and bound it presumably so that it would never melt.

  For a moment, Althea thought she had angered the goddess. Her eyes flicked beside her as she contemplated escape. If she darted quickly, could she outrun a goddess?

  “If you can promise that, then I will give you this for your friend, Arévis.” Isold said, handing over the ice crystal. Althea took it, marveling at its craftsmanship.

  “When you return to me as I asked of you, I shall share with you the secret of eternal life if you have remained loyal to me. Until then, I will protect you and your friends whenever I am able.”

  Isold parted from her to stand in the center of the chamber again, placing her hand in the same position that Althea had found her in.

  “Wait!” Althea called, still full of so many questions. “Why did you make Arévis join The Artificer’s Guild? Why not let her join your own guild?”

  Isold’s small mouth tightened.

  “She was best suited to The Artificer’s Guild,” Isold said.

  Her simple, careless answer angered Althea.

  Though grateful for her help, Althea couldn’t help but yell, “You abandoned her! If you hadn’t sent her away, her guild wouldn’t have been destroyed by bandits. She’s not the same anymore.”

  Althea knew she should have been much more careful by the menacing way Isold looked at her. She heard the curl of ice crystals growing in the chamber, slowly creeping like spiders towards her. They glittered from the sunbeams through the iced ceiling.

  “You think I owe you defense of my actions?” Isold said, in the tone Althea was beginning to fear. She could feel goosebumps prickle all over her flesh.

  “That is what our entire city council is built on—defense of the queen’s actions. Why would you build one if you had no intention of listening? Don’t you think it’s peaceful here because you keep us safe?” Althea said, quite sure that the better option would have been silence.

  Dread overtook her as she stood at the mercy of Isold’s glare. She thought that she caught a glimpse of pity in those cold depths.

  “Question kings and queens, Althea, but do not question me. I will tell you because I have taken favor of you—not because I owe you or anyone an explanation.

  “Arévis would never have been happy in my guild,” The ice of her eyes looked almost sorrowful.

  “I had to give her something more challenging, more useful. Her talents must be properly channeled and observed, otherwise she could become dangerous. I have seen it happen to many of my seraphs.”

  The history books were full of tales of doomed seraphs, the sons and daughters of gods growing too powerful or rebellious. The only tale of a seraph of Isold’s met his end at the point of her ice.

  The seraph wars had ended the gods’ obsession with having so many powerful children. No longer was there a demigod at every temple, academy and palace - because that had led to more blood and chaos.

  Althea had read about guilds, but in truth, she knew very little about what went on in them. Their secrets were always kept highly guarded. Members were sworn to secrecy and loyalty to prevent undue leaks. Arévis had told her next to nothing about The Artificer’s Guild.

  Isold spoke of Arévis like a child of her own. Could that be why Isold kept such a close eye on her and Althea as well? Is that why she agreed to bless them now?

  “I am sorry for questioning you,” Althea apologized, relieved but also terrified, a combination of emotions that remained unique to Isold so far.

  Isold waved it aside. “Make me proud, Althea.”

  That was her final word as her position froze again like one of Arévis’ macabre statues.