August huffed a laugh as he unfolded his sleeping roll.
“I’ll just be glad to have finally made it somewhere and be a little closer to our goal.” He set aside his sword. “No offense, but I’m wishing you’d had the eternal summer spell locked away inside you.”
Tonya’s features shifted into a full smile and Diane caught Dorian staring at the young faery. She smothered a grin as he jerked his gaze away.
“Let me check your side.” He turned instead to August.
Diane took out her journal as Dorian began to re-bandage August’s wound. Tonya shivered at the raw stitches and scooted closer to Diane as she began journaling.
“What do you write in that?”
Diane didn’t look up, focused on her notes. “Recording our trip. It’s an obsessive habit of mine to write down anything and everything. It’s about the only thing that makes me useful in Chelm.”
It was a fact she’d told herself to stop herself from dreaming and wishing for other things. And a skill that helped keep the kingdom running when nothing else she did would really contribute.
“I don’t believe that.” August tugged his shirt over the new bandage and lay back on his blankets.
Diane flashed him a smile. “As far as humans go, I’m afraid I’m not very special. My only talent lies in keeping my brother organized.”
“And being the voice of reason in a room?” Dorian said.
“And seeing value in everyone and everything around you?” Tonya put in.
“Or giving everyone hope for a better tomorrow?” August shifted one arm behind his head.
Diane cleared her throat, blinking rapidly against some sudden dust mites in the air. She focused on the blurring words under her pen, tracing over the last letters she’d written until her nose stopped smarting and her eyes ceased watering.
“It’s not such a bad thing to dream.” August’s next words coaxed her head up. A guilty smile touched his face. “I found some pages of your story in the snow when I first came to Chelm.”
Heat once again tinged Diane’s cheeks. “Was it completely ridiculous to read a human’s story of your parents?”
He shook his head. “Obviously pages were missing, but it’s your family’s account. I’ll tell you the faery version sometime.”
Diane turned to a new page. “What about now? Unless telling stories around a fire is only a human tradition?”
August smiled. “If it is, faeries willingly adopted it.” He pulled his knees up to rest more comfortably as he stared at the ceiling. “How am I supposed to start?”
“Once upon a time?” Diane winked.
Tonya leaned forward on her knees, eagerness brightening every angle of her face. Dorian settled back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. August grinned back at Diane for a moment before beginning.
“Once upon a time…”
Chapter Twenty
We’ll be at the Strait today. A shiver cut down Tonya’s spine, tempting her wings to wriggle free. It had been a long time since she’d let them out. She shook her head as she remembered Diane’s breathless, “They’re beautiful!”
Though it was nice to be considered useful, for once.
Ice crunched beneath her boots. She squinted her eyes against the brightness of the sun on the sparkling crystals. Dorian and August once again walked side by side, engaged in a less-serious conversation from the sounds of their voices and the way August tossed his hands about in enthusiastic gestures.
At least he seemed to have cheered up from the day before. Another shudder cut across her skin at the memory of the hard light in his eyes. Diane yawned, trudging along beside Tonya. True to her word, she’d compulsively scribbled notes throughout August’s story the night before as Tonya sat spellbound.
He’d glossed over the romantic bits between his parents, focusing instead on the battles, but Tonya hadn’t minded.
They’d slept late, the doors protected by new warding spells that August and Dorian put up. But no one seemed to mind after the strain of the previous day.
“Look!” Diane’s sudden words jerked her attention to follow the line of Diane’s pointing finger.
Up ahead the hills compressed to flat land. A wide something cut through the plain—and across? Tonya caught her breath. Across was another vast expanse, but this one called to her with a heart-stopping cry. Wild and free and cold and—home.
She pushed forward, her feet flying into a run. Her companions didn’t call out, just picked up their pace to follow her to the edge of the Strait.
Unlike the lake, the dark water wasn’t frozen. Massive chunks of ice floated among the gently lapping waves. A sleek figure surfaced to stare at them over a whiskered snout before diving again with a gruff bark.
Seal.
Her fingertips tingled with the nearness of magic. Magic that leeched from the broken ice, deeper threads calling from the mountains just out of eyesight, from the tundras that draped across the mountains. From whispers of the forests and the gentle lapping of the frigid water as it wound its way to the ocean—her other home.
“How do we get across?” August asked, breaking the spell the north had begun to spin on her.
She cast a closer look at the strait. I could make it across. The wild impulse to dance her way across the shifting ice surfaced and her wings nearly burst forth to help her balance and skim across the waters. But her companions wouldn’t be nearly as graceful, or lucky, to make it across in one piece.
“How about that?” Diane pointed farther down the bank.
An unbroken swath of ice remained as a bridge across the water. They headed toward it and Tonya pressed a tentative hand to its surface. She caught the reassuring whisper of its sturdiness before the twisting warding around her magic shut it out.
“It’s safe.”
Her companions looked back at her with trust. A thrill skimmed through her as Dorian gestured to the ice with a smile. She stepped out onto the ice, leading the way across.
A breath of cool air brushed across her skin as she placed her feet on firm land again. She drew in a deep breath, tasting the distant pine and the wildness of the country around her. The first time she’d touched ice weeks ago, she’d felt a little more awake.
Now, a new awareness pulsed through her, starting in her feet and working all the way up to the tips of her hair. She felt alive in the way she did after a storm at sea. Like her magic was waiting at the edge of her fingertips, desperate to create.
Not for the first time, she wondered what she could be if her magic was free.
“What now?” August looped his hands around his pack straps and tilted his head.
Dorian shrugged. “The plan was a little hazy after getting to the Strait.”
They glanced at her. Tonya stared back.
“Don’t look at me. I have no idea what to do.” Besides explore this whole place.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to suggest that we just keep walking.” A laugh cut through Diane’s voice.
Dorian’s smile took up one side of his mouth. “If there are any faeries around, they’ll probably come find us. Our magic stands out like a sore thumb here.”
“They’ll be friendly, right?” Diane raised an eyebrow in worry.
Dorian shrugged again. “I have no idea.”
Tonya stared out over the tundra. The ice felt different. Like it wasn’t quite soaked through with her magic. She began to move without consulting her friends. Now that she was there, she couldn’t stop. Something told her the ice faeries would be friendly.
Or maybe that’s just me being stupidly optimistic. They could hate me just as much as everyone in the Reef.
But her father had welcomed her mother. It sounded like her mother had stayed for some time in the north. Maybe that meant the ice faeries weren’t as harsh as the others seemed to believe.
She kept walking and no one argued. They continued in silence and Tonya took the opportunity to keep drinking in the wonder of the north
, even if the landscape hadn’t changed too drastically from before.
“Tonya…” The sharp edge came back to August’s voice.
She pivoted to look at him. He stood, arms loosely by his sides, squinting toward the horizon. Dorian edged his feet farther apart, a frown twisting at his mouth a second later.
“Someone’s coming.”
A soft gasp broke from Diane, and Tonya retreated a few steps to stand by them.
“Who? Where?”
August pointed. Dark shapes appeared on the horizon, moving toward them, sprays of snow and ice kicked up in their wake.
The boys exchanged a nod and kept their hands away from weapons. Tonya stared at the advancing figures. They were beginning to solidify into outlines that didn’t make sense. The closer they got, the clearer they became—whoever approached rode bulky animals with sprawling horns and curiously bowlegged hind limbs.
Dorian and August edged forward until they sheltered Tonya and Diane between them, presenting their strongest sides to the approaching strangers. Tonya peered around August’s shoulder, hopelessly intrigued.
Four riders split and swept around them, circling in constant motion. Dorian’s shoulder matched the tallest animal’s withers for height. Tooled leather embossed in reds and greens cinched a saddle in place and wound about the creature’s muzzle and curved horns in a bridle. The riders all wore matching knee-length coats of deep blue, trimmed in spotted fur. They guided their mounts with leg cues as carved spears lowered.
“Who are you?” A rider halted her animal in front of Dorian, her spear a handsbreadth from his chest.
He spread his hands wide in a placating gesture. “Travelers. I’m Dorian.” He introduced the others. “We’re looking for the ice faeries.”
Her angular features didn’t relax. Dark hair swept over her shoulder in a braid, the tips icy white. Her skin was a shade darker than Tonya’s browned skin and every move she made reflected the wild energy of the land.
“You are faeries yourselves.” Her sharp grey eyes fell to Diane. “Except for that one. What do you want here?”
Dorian shuffled a half-step to the side and waved his fingers in a signal for Tonya to come forward. The woman shifted her stern gaze to Tonya and the spear wavered.
“You…” She transferred her spear to Tonya, ignoring the way Dorian tensed. “Do you know who you are?”
Tonya swallowed hard under the unyielding stare, suddenly afraid that even here she might always be ashamed of her father’s name.
“I’m—I’m Tonya Freyr-dottir.”
The woman caught her breath and something like a smile softened her features for a moment.
“Stand down,” she said to the others.
They reined in their mounts, bringing their spears to point up at the sky. The leader slid from her animal and came forward a few steps. Now at eye level, she wasn’t much taller than Tonya, but she carried herself with the same dangerous grace as Dorian and August.
Two daggers were strapped to her belt in colorful sheaths, and fur-lined boots laced up to her knees over trousers.
“You wouldn’t know me, but I’m Lilja. I was once a good friend to your father.”
Something broke in Tonya, like rock finally succumbing to the pressure of a glacier.
“You knew him? What was he like? Is he still here? What —”
Lilja held up a gloved hand and Tonya stumbled to a halt. Her grey eyes softened again.
“There will be time enough to talk about Freyr later.”
Tonya’s heart stuttered. From the way she said the words, it was plain that he was gone. She blinked hard. It’s not like I really expected him to be alive. But the hole inside yawned a little wider.
“Why have you come back?” Lilja leaned on her spear, her head cocked slightly to the side as if she knew, but still wanted them to say it.
Diane’s hand nudged into Tonya’s and squeezed. She glanced to the side to see Diane’s sympathetic smile before the princess nodded back to Lilja. Tonya shuddered a breath.
“I’ve lived in the ocean my entire life. A few tides ago, I was attacked while on land. It seems my parents had given me wards of protection.”
She paused long enough to catch Dorian’s brief nod of support.
“But in protecting me from the attack, it somehow triggered my ice magic that, until then, I’d had no ability over. It froze everything.” She swept a hand behind her.
Lilja pursed her lips, exchanging a quick look with her still-silent companions. “Aye, we know of this strange phenomenon. Despite what you might think, there is still summer here in the north. We were not happy to see a spell of this magnitude sweep through.”
“She still can’t use her magic because of the warding,” Dorian said. “Our people have no way of breaking the spell. We’ve come to see if you could help her, or find some way to undo the ice in our countries before it destroys everything.”
Lilja focused on some point beyond them before giving a sharp nod.
“You will come with us to Konungburg.”
“What’s that?” August broke his silence.
Lilja’s frosty glance came back. “Our city. You will see our king and he will determine how to proceed. If there was no magic user powerful enough among your people to undo this, then I’m not sure what we can do. Come.” She strode back to her mount. “You will ride behind us. I do not intend to walk the entire way.”
“Ride? On those?” Diane raised a brow at the creatures.
A hint of a smirk stirred Lilja’s features. “Our caribou are more than capable of handling two riders.”
She swung up onto her caribou’s back and it shifted in response, the four toes of its hooves spreading wider to grab more purchase on top of the snow to balance her weight.
“Tonya, you will ride with me.”
Lilja’s tone brooked no arguments, and she directed the others to her companions. Tonya sidled forward, reaching a cautious hand out to the caribou. It cocked its head to regard her with large brown eyes, nostrils flaring as it took in her scent. It shook its head and she reflexively backed away from the heavy antlers waving in her face.
Lilja extended her hand. “Foot in the stirrup to help yourself up,” she instructed.
Tonya obediently placed her foot in the tooled stirrup and managed to pull herself up with the aid of Lilja’s hand to sit behind the other faery.
“Hold on,” she needlessly instructed and turned the caribou.
They lunged forward in a rocking gallop. Tonya wrapped her arms around Lilja until the faery tapped her hands.
“Not so tight.” But she sounded faintly amused. “Jyri won’t let you fall.”
Tonya relaxed a fraction, bravely lifting her head from Lilja’s blue coat to see the others racing alongside. Diane clung just as tightly as Tonya did, but August wore a slight grin as he hung on with one careless hand. Dorian looked slightly less at ease than Tonya felt, but still sat behind the saddle with more grace than Tonya with every powerful leap forward.
They ran across the tundra for nearly an hour before stopping to rest the caribou. Tonya slid off, her knees wobbling a little on solid ground again.
Just ahead of them, the tundra shifted into hills, and those to forests sprawling across the snowy landscape like evergreen giants.
Lilja stepped up beside her. “We’ll reach Konungburg in another hour of riding.”
Tonya nodded, her eyes still searching out the boundaries of the landscape, imagining she could see the low ridges of mountains in the distance.
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.
A smile softened Lilja’s features. “You should see it in its summer glory.”
She extended her hand and snow and ice swirled away from the ground for a moment, revealing soft green grass and purple and pink flowers that had been crushed under the weight of the snow. Tonya sank to one knee, gingerly touching the ground.
The north whispered back and she closed her eyes, listening to the storm of
magic thrumming through the earth, wind, and sky. The ice rushed back to cover the ground. She drew her hand away and dabbed at her eyes and the unexpected tears.
“It’s so strong here.” Not even the ocean at the height of a summer storm carried this much magic.
Lilja waited until she regained her feet. “It’s the Creator’s Lights.”
Tonya tilted her head. Even with everything her father’s magic whispered to her, that was unfamiliar.
“They’re lights that touch down in the furthest tundras and mountains, pooling their pure magic into the earth and air and spreading throughout the world. They’re an amazing sight.”
“You’ve seen them?”
“They’re bright enough to be seen from a distance. You’ll see them from Konungburg. They come nearly every day. They’re the reason we live here. To protect them and the wild magic they leave.”
“Do you have to very often?” Tonya rubbed her sleeve. “Protect it?”
Lilja half-turned to look at the others standing close by and listening to their conversation. “We did our fair share during the war. Even if you didn’t see us.”
Dorian and August nodded, and the three other ice faeries relaxed a fraction.
“Come.” Lilja gestured back to the caribou. Tonya grimaced behind her back, but followed and remounted behind the faery.
This time they raced across the gentle hills, turning to the northwest. Swaths of trees, out-flung from the main bulk of the forest, passed beside them. Bright eyes watched them from the shelter of the trees and a wolf howled to the faery who carried Diane behind him. A straggling V of geese honked overhead before wheeling away to the south.
The terrain began to slide into a gentle decline. The caribou planted their forelegs into the ground, giving themselves purchase as they continued their dash. The path furrowed between two hills and they rounded the northern mount to reveal an icy bay and Konungburg.
Lilja slowed Jyri to a walk. Tonya shifted her seat to better see over Lilja’s shoulder. Diane audibly caught her breath.
Forested hills topped with a dusting of snow surrounded a valley. Peaked roofs with swooping carvings above the doors gathered in circles. Even from the top of the valley, figures were visible in the open circles between the houses, or walking the paths that connected each of the commons.
Winter Spell Page 17
