Prologue
There were many things hidden inside the castle walls of Urubaen. Some were prisoners that the king needed to keep close. He couldn't kill them just yet but he didn't dare send them to Gilead, especially after Eragon Shadeslayer had escaped from there. No, he needed to keep an eye on them. Some of the king's prisoners were puzzling. Their purpose was unknown to all but the king.
One prisoner was particularly puzzling. She sat alone in a cell, usually hiding in the corner. She was quiet, almost never uttering a sound. Her dark hair was always in her face, making it harder to see what she really looked like. But the strangest thing wasn't her silence or the fact no one knew what she really looked like since she got here. It was the fact her cell was always cold. It wasn't chilly as if a wind was passing through. It was cold, as if it were winter in that small space. If one were to touch the bars of her cell, they'd find that the metal had been chilled so much it burned. No one got too close to the girl's cell for fear that they would freeze as well. Any food or water was practically thrown into the cell.
Why and how she was here was only know to the king and few others. Even Murtagh, the king's right-hand man wasn't even aware of the full details. Among the prisoners, she was known as the winter girl and they began to weave stories about her. To anyone else, she had no name, no past, just nothing.
That is until one night, when the moonlight drifted into the winter girl's cell from a nearby window. She looked up, making some of her hair fall away to reveal her mouth. The air in her cell shifted as she opened her mouth and sang…