Winter Spell

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Winter Spell Page 8

by Claire M Banschbach


  He opened his arms and she lunged towards him, knocking him back a step.

  “Be safe,” he mumbled against her braid. “I’ll miss you so much.”

  Diane shuddered a breath. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? You’re the one who keeps me sane.” He pulled away and held her at arm’s-length. “Come back in one piece.”

  She resisted the impulse to remind him there was a better chance of that if Ralf went along, but she forgot her irritation when she looked up at Ralf. He still wore his serious warrior face, but his eyes had softened around the corners. She gave into the strange impulse that had taken over the day before and stepped closer, happy to ignore Edmund’s cautions. This time he pulled her into a hug and she leaned against his chest.

  Ralf didn’t say anything, just let his chin rest on the top of her braid. She closed her eyes, filing away the moment to think about later.

  “Here.” His voice rumbled against her ear as he pulled away. He held out his knife. “I’ll rest a little easier knowing you have another weapon to use.”

  She took it with a smile and tucked it into her belt. His smile remained in the corners of his mouth.

  “You know what to do if you run into any trouble?” His voice pitched back to his normal gruff, business-like tone.

  Diane lifted her staff. “Hit hard and then run in the opposite direction.”

  He nodded. “And it’s perfectly all right to leave the faeries behind.”

  Diane pursed her lips into a frown, staring pointedly at Dorian and August, who stood nearby and who had heard, judging from the looks of mild exasperation on their faces.

  “I agree,” Edmund said.

  “Really?” Diane pursed her lips. “What about the part where we’re supposed to be fostering new bonds with the faeries?”

  Edmund lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “And it’s so bad to want my sister back in one piece?”

  Diane jabbed at him with her staff. He shied away with a smirk.

  “Careful. If you hurt me, I won’t give you your present.”

  Diane lowered her staff. “Fine. Truce.”

  Edmund grinned. “Works every time.”

  Diane leveled the staff at him again. His smile only grew as he handed her a new leather-bound journal.

  A gasp of delight broke from Diane as she ruffled through the pristine pages just waiting for her pen.

  “I expect it to be full when you get back,” Edmund said.

  She threw her arms around him again. “Thank you.”

  He released her after a moment, turning her to Adela and Damian.

  “We wanted to wish you luck as well,” Adela said. “And with your permission, give you something.”

  Diane perked up in interest as Edmund stiffened in wariness, a guarded expression falling over his features.

  “What?”

  “Some extra protection,” Adela said.

  Diane glanced at Edmund from the corner of her eye. She wouldn’t turn that down.

  She nodded her permission, and Adela reached out to brush her forehead with cool fingers. Damian’s deeper voice joined Adela’s musical tone as they spoke words that seemed just out of reach of understanding. But they made her want to laugh and cry all at once.

  Adela withdrew her hand. “It’ll keep you safe from all but the strongest magic.”

  Diane swallowed the fear that lurked in the back of her mind. “Thank you.”

  Tonya joined them, her hands twisting around the straps of her pack. She glanced back once at Captain Kostis, who gave a nod.

  “Ready?” Diane asked.

  The faery nodded, a bit of longing and excitement lingering in her face as she looked north. Diane wished she could share the same feelings.

  Dorian and August slung their packs over their shoulders. They were similarly outfitted with thick winter coats and boots, and August wore his sword and a knife at his waist with the same comfort as Edmund and Ralf. Dorian once again carried his odd weapons.

  Without a word, Dorian turned and began walking down the northern road that would lead them through town and into the wilderness beyond. August gestured for Diane and Tonya to follow before taking up the rear.

  Diane looked back once, offering a last wave to Edmund and Ralf standing in front of the mansion, and to Matilde who stood huddled in the doorway.

  The townspeople had turned out despite the early hour, calling well wishes to her, a few addressing the party at large. But they threw many cautious looks at Dorian and August, and stared curiously at Tonya.

  Diane smiled back, waving a few more times as she projected a confidence she didn’t really feel. I can do this. We have to do this. They broke free of the last houses where the road ran straight through the snow-covered fields and hills, calling them north.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tonya huffed a breath, jerking at the straps of her pack that dug mercilessly into her shoulders. Her feet ached in the boots, despite the extra stockings that Matilde had given her since the boots were too large for her tiny feet. I wish I’d just used my other shoes. Or not worn shoes at all.

  Diane trudged in front of her, head down as she methodically plunged her staff into the snow with every other step. Dorian kept walking, apparently unfazed by nearly three hours of continuous hiking.

  The town and goodbyes had fallen behind them a long time ago. Kostis had simply patted her shoulder and wished her well, with a last admonishment to be careful.

  She hefted her pack higher. He’d also told her to keep trying to use her ice magic. The same ice that spread uninterrupted for miles, barely cracking under their feet. Snow gathered in drifts, almost up to her knees in some places.

  Tonya focused on Dorian’s broad back again. He’d found the warding that bound her magic inside her. Adela had told her to try to find it herself and maybe push some of her magic through. Maybe that’s how I’ve been able to use magic before. I just have to remember what it felt like to use it.

  But all memory of whispering to the snow or spinning in the water vanished as soon as she tried. She kicked at the snow with a grumble, sending clumps of snow flying in the air to cascade back down in flurries.

  “Can we stop?”

  Diane’s voice jerked Tonya’s attention from her frustration. The princess had halted, one hand on her staff, the other propped against her hip. Dorian half-turned, a bit of surprise and confusion tilting his face into a frown.

  “I’m not used to walking forever.” Diane’s voice held a hint of humor, but Tonya could see fatigue already wearing around her eyes.

  “Sorry,” Dorian simply said and moved to the side of the road.

  Diane gave a small smile and followed, a frown contorting her entire face as she looked for a place to sit that wasn’t entirely covered by snow. She sighed, her shoulders slumping before she shrugged out of her pack and sat on top of it.

  Tonya allowed a small smile and went to sit next to her. She sank to her knees in the snow, gently pressing the indentation of her hand into the smooth, sparkling surface. A quick tingle brushed her fingertips, gone in an instant. She sighed. I don’t know why it surprises me anymore. Brief flashes of magic were all she’d ever felt.

  “Are you not cold?” This time August brought her attention up.

  He sat on the other side of the road, also perched on his pack. The chill of the air had brought redness to his cheeks, making his eyes sparkle even brighter. Gloves covered his hands which he’d tucked under his arms.

  Tonya allowed a slight smile. He looked only slightly more comfortable than Diane did.

  She glanced down at her ungloved hands. She’d undone the buckles of her coat as soon as they were out of sight of the village, the heat from it oppressive to her.

  “No. We don’t really get cold currents where we live in the ocean, but I don’t know that I’ve ever really been cold.”

  “Wish I could say the same. I hate winter.” Diane tossed her head back, alm
ost shouting the last words.

  August half-laughed, but something in Tonya’s heart squeezed. Diane hadn’t meant it, but it was another reminder that Tonya had caused the ice and snow.

  “Oh!” Diane slapped her forehead. “I didn’t mean…” She waved to Tonya. “Sorry!”

  Tonya shrugged, trying to hide the hurt that lingered under her skin. She glanced back to Dorian, who’d remained standing in what appeared to be his usual silence.

  “How much farther will we go today?”

  “Yes, are we planning to walk all the way to the Strait today?” August asked, the lightness of his voice not hiding the edge that sharpened his words.

  Dorian returned August’s glare with an intensity that sent an uneasiness twisting in her stomach. Diane frowned, her gaze darting between them. August hadn’t argued outright when Dorian had taken the lead, but he clearly wasn’t happy about it. The council had decided Dorian would be responsible for their path, as he was most familiar with the country they’d be traveling.

  “We still have at least ten miles today, if we want to make it across the Strait in the quickest time possible.” Dorian’s voice was a little gruffer than August’s, but it lacked the emotion that filled August’s every movement.

  Diane sighed, her shoulders slumping even more. The princess pushed up to her feet and picked up her bag with a grimace. Dorian quietly stepped up and helped her settle it back across her shoulders, brushing it free of snow. Diane edged away from him, her hands tightening around her staff.

  “Thank you, but I’ll try to manage on my own from here on out.” Diane gave a little nod, as if to herself. “I know I’m a princess, and I have no idea what that means to you as faeries, but I’m going to do my part on this journey. So don’t worry about me slowing anything down.”

  She lifted her chin, staring down both Dorian and August with a regal expression Tonya had seen in her own king and queen.

  Dorian just gave a nod. “All right, then.” He turned and began walking again.

  “Sounds good to me.” August paused by them, offering a smile. “But I’m here if either of you need help.”

  Diane’s answering smile held a bit of hesitation. She waited until Tonya began walking to step out with her, side-by-side. Tonya gnawed at the inside of her lip, not sure what she was supposed to do.

  Am I supposed to talk? Diane showed more friendliness to her than to the other faeries. A friendliness that made her uncomfortable. The uncertainty with which August and Damian regarded Tonya was almost a relief in its familiarity.

  “What’s life like in the ocean?” Diane asked, her eyes lighting up with a sparkle of interest.

  Tonya hesitated. “I don’t know if I can make it sound that interesting.”

  “Oh, come on! I need something to distract me from the fact that I have to walk another ten miles today.”

  Tonya reluctantly began to describe the reef, gaining a little more confidence as August dropped back a pace or two to join in Diane’s questions. Dorian didn’t speak, just kept walking in his even strides. But Tonya had the feeling he was listening anyway.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m beginning to hate the land. Tonya lay on her back and stared up at the gently-swaying green canvas above her. Two days of walking had left her feet aching and muscles sore that she didn’t even know she had.

  Diane curled up on her side next to Tonya, buried under her blanket and coat, still asleep. Tonya eased out from under her blanket. Even though she didn’t really need it, she found the sensation of sleeping under it comforting.

  Diane grumbled under her breath and disappeared further under her blankets as Tonya gently undid the flap. She winced in apology and stepped quickly out, turning to close it back up.

  The small peaked tents had been a gift from August’s people, spelled to provide insulation from the wind and cold. The tent that Dorian and August shared stood next to theirs, but only one of them would be inside.

  They’d barely been civil to each other since leaving, exchanging barbed words only when necessary. On the first night, they’d managed to agree to split the watches so they didn’t have to share personal space with each other.

  She rubbed her eyes. It made for tense days, even if both were individually civil to her and Diane.

  A step crunched on the ice that had formed a new sheen overnight. She pivoted, expecting to see one of her companions. Her breath caught in her throat. An animal crouched before her instead.

  She recognized it as a dog, but this didn’t have the same friendliness as the animal in the first town she’d encountered. Saliva dripped from its bared teeth and a wild light gleamed in its eyes. It slunk another step towards her.

  Panic froze her feet. She didn’t have a weapon. She’d left her knife in the tent.

  “Don’t move,” a voice whispered behind her. August.

  The faery edged around her, knees bent in a low crouch as he locked eyes with the dog. He whispered a few words, too low for Tonya to hear, but she still felt the tremor of magic within them.

  The dog snarled, curling its lips further back from its fangs.

  August persisted, sidling closer, a growl edging the unfamiliar words. The dog backed up a step, snapping in reply.

  August stiffened, and before Tonya could blink, a silver flash streaked from behind the tent, slamming into the dog. It collapsed with a pained squeal, blood staining the snow as it thrashed, then went still.

  Dorian stepped over, bending to grab the knife.

  “What was that?” August demanded, fury darkening his face.

  “What had to be done.” Dorian wiped the knife clean on the dog’s fur. “That wolf was too far gone to listen. Or is playing with forest plants the only thing you’re good at?”

  August lunged forward. “He was about to leave!”

  Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “He wasn’t.”

  He turned away, but August yanked him back by the shoulder. “You miss killing things so much that you couldn’t resist?”

  Dorian shoved August’s chest, breaking his hold. “You seem to like bringing up the war. Miss it as much as you say I do?”

  Tonya didn’t dare breathe at the rage on both their faces. How do I stop them?

  “No, I just remember what your people did.”

  Dorian’s normally stoic face twisted in a sneer. “I seem to remember plenty of Myrnians wreaking hell on the innocent.”

  August bristled even more. “I only saw Durneans at Monmarran.”

  Something flashed in Dorian’s eyes that sent Tonya’s heart skipping in fear. She licked her lips. I have to do something.

  “What do you know about Monmarran?” His voice came terrifyingly even.

  “More than enough. Were you there with your fancy sticks, or were you hiding somewhere pretending to be a healer?” August spat.

  “Stop,” Tonya said, her voice wavering.

  Dorian shoved again, sending August back two steps. His hand moved towards the staffs on his back. An angry gleam answered in August’s eyes and he grabbed his sword.

  “Stop!” Tonya yelled, snow swirling around her.

  They paused, not even looking at her.

  “I don’t know much about the war, but I know that this isn’t helping anything!” She tried to muster some sort of command into her voice. What would Diane do?

  “Please. The…” She searched her memory for the word Dorian had used. “The wolf is dead and we can’t undo it. Please, can we break camp and move for the day?”

  She softened her tone with a note of pleading.

  Dorian sent her a long glance and brought his hand down. August relaxed a fraction and removed his hand from the sword.

  Then they spun in opposite directions with one last glare, and left her standing alone.

  Not alone.

  Diane had exited the tent at some point during the commotion. She stared, eyes wide, curling her blanket around her shoulders. Her gaze flicked to the dead wolf, then after each of the men in turn,
before settling on Tonya.

  “Good thing they listened to you.” Caution and a little fear lurked in her face, directed at the faeries more than the wolf.

  Tonya nodded, pressure building up behind her eyes. She blinked hard, only serving to blur her vision more.

  “Poor thing. Must be starving.” Diane looked to the animal in pity.

  Tonya gasped a short breath. She’d caused the ice. She’d driven the wolf to desperate measures. She’d gotten it killed.

  “Tonya!” Diane’s sudden closeness startled her. The princess laid a gentle hand on her arm, shaking it lightly. “The same thing might have happened during the regular winter.”

  Tonya looked at the red snow. But it’s not your regular winter.

  “Come. Help me pack up. We might have to do theirs too.” Diane shook her head, muttering something under her breath about young men and ridiculous posturing.

  Tonya understood some of it. There were plenty of young faeries in the ocean who sometimes didn’t appear to have the brain the Creator blessed them with.

  But whatever lay between Dorian and August was something different. Something raw and angry. What she’d seen in too many faces in the council chamber when the representatives of the different countries looked at each other. Something almost broken.

  *

  Tonya sighed and nibbled at the corner of the tasteless travel bread. What I wouldn’t give for some fresh shrimp and sea moss. Or even the eggs and toast she’d eaten the morning they’d left.

  “I agree.”

  Diane sat next to her on the mossy log, legs sprawled out in front of her. Tonya raised an eyebrow. Diane lifted her own lunch in answer.

  “It leaves something to be desired. I’d love some fresh meat.”

  “There might be some small game around here.” Dorian flicked a hand around the small forest they’d entered a few minutes earlier.

  “Killing one animal today wasn’t enough?” August snapped from his seat a few feet away.

  Crumbs fell from Dorian’s hand as he clenched it around his meal.

 

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