Last Battle of the Icemark by Stuart Hill

around a mountain peak as he ordered his thoughts. Medea, as a powerful Adept, would be a useful addition to his arsenal of weapons; all he needed to do was to shape her to his needs. The simplest of tasks.
    â€œYou have an endless capacity to kill those who should hold your loyalty, Medea, whether the greatest Adepts of the Darkness or your own blood kin. This hatred of rivals, and even of your family, shows a preoccupation with revenge that reveals a dangerous flaw in your character. As an Adept, you should be above such petty concerns.”
    â€œYou hate,” she dared to snap. “You kill for pleasure. Why is it different for me?”
    â€œI hate in the abstract, not the particular. I hate all things with equal malevolence, and so rise above dangerous privateobsessions. But you hate with a personal passion that can distract an Adept from the purity of magic. It’s a flaw and a weakness that could be exploited by a clever enemy, and one that could yet see you destroyed.” His black, empty eyes held her for a brief agonising moment.
    He truly believed that his evil was pure and unsullied by the taint of emotion, but in fact his every act was a considered manipulation of the world and all around him as he searched for the means of attacking the Spirit Realms once again. Cronus had spent aeons scheming and planning revenge on the Goddess for defeating him and driving him into exile. Medea was just one more piece in the giant and complex plan that he hoped would one day see him defeat the hated Mother of All and secure him the throne of the Cosmos. But he believed that all of his strategies were formulated in cold, emotionless calculation, and so he felt nothing but contempt for his granddaughter’s intense feelings of jealousy and rejection.
    He regarded her for a moment longer, and then, without another word, he turned and walked away across the wide floor of the palace. Medea watched him go, sinking back into her chair and breathing a long sigh of relief. She’d done it! Cronus had forgiven her for murdering the six Adepts, and had accepted her right to stay in the Darkness. But even now there were still dangers: the hatred and rage against her family that she believed to be her true strength, Cronus saw as a weakness. Obviously she’d need to be careful as she plotted against the Lindenshields, and Sharley in particular.
    Whatever happened, the Arc-Adept mustn’t know what she was doing. And in truth he didn’t. But neither did Medea know that her grandfather had begun to mould her thoughts and actions in ways that would make her useful to his plans.
    *   *   *
    It had been more than a day since Oskan had told Thirrin that Medea was still alive, and he could see she was still trying to come to terms with the devastating and unexpected news. Her eyes filled with tears; she shifted in the chair that stood opposite Oskan’s in their private rooms, and waited for him to look up.
    â€œDid I fail her?” she suddenly asked, unable to wait for his attention any longer.
    â€œNo,” he answered, understanding her question immediately. “Medea is her own creation; nobody else is responsible.”
    â€œBut if I’d given her more of my time . . .”
    â€œIt would have made no difference. Don’t forget that I spent endless hours teaching her; showing her how to use her Gifts. If anyone failed her, it was me.”
    â€œBut I’m her mother . A girl needs female guidance; perhaps I should have spent less time running the country and more time with my family.”
    â€œIn which case we’d all be dead,” Oskan answered sharply, recognising her words as a cry for help and reassurance. “The threat of Bellorum and the Imperial armies took every moment you had to spare. We all know that; Cressida and the boys know it, the entire country knows it. Of all our children only Medea has become . . . has turned to the