by Mari Mancusi
It was then that I noticed the red cloak hanging from a rope stretched across two trees, alongside other clothes, probably hung out to dry. The need to run my hands over the bright, colorful cloth washed over me and, before I thought it through, I motioned for Gale to grab it and bring it to me. A moment later, the spirit dropped the cloak into my arms. I ran my hand against the finely woven fabric, watching as it slipped through my fingers like gossamer. How did they make it this soft?
Inspired, I slipped the cloak onto my shoulders, pulling the hood low over my face. Then I glanced at my reflection in a nearby stream. I looked like one of them now. A sudden idea took hold, and stuffing my shawl into a knothole in a nearby old oak, I grinned conspiratorially at Gale.
Time to explore.
I slipped into the camp, feeling as if I’d stepped into another world. The fancy tents were even more elaborate up close—gigantic pavilions with massive rooms containing actual beds and tables and chairs that looked to be hewn of the finest oaks. How had they carried all this up through the forest? And more important, why would they bother?
I shook my head, confounded as I continued to explore the camp. Suddenly I came across a group of women in simple homespun dresses and aprons, chattering as they carried baskets full of fruits and vegetables over to a long row table.
“I can’t believe we’re really here!” I heard one of them say. “It’s so magical!”
“Magical?” scoffed another. “This forest is filthy! Get me back to civilization as soon as possible!”
“You just want to get back to Stephen,” teased another. “The two of you complain endlessly when you’re apart.”
The second woman grinned. “All I can say is he’d better be working on our love spoon! I’m not planning to wait forever, you know!”
The trio broke out into giggles as they set the baskets on the table, then turned around for another batch. I ducked to keep out of sight, popping into a nearby vacant tent.
Empty of people. But full of food.
I stared wide-eyed at the feast piled high on the table. The smells surrounded me even as I feasted on the sight with my eyes. Puffy loaves of steaming dark brown bread, plates of rich meat soaked in gravy, smoky chunks and slices of various fish, earthy potatoes, roasted vegetables, and…
What were those dark brown blocks near the desserts at the very end?
Unable to resist, I snuck a delectable chunk and shoved it in my mouth. The sweetness practically exploded on my tongue as I closed my eyes in rapture.
Suddenly, I heard voices outside the tent. I froze.
“There you are, Agnarr,” someone barked. “What did I tell you about running off like that?”
I froze. Agnarr? The boy from earlier? I dared peek outside the tent to get a better look. Sure enough, there he was, still dressed in his bright green suit. But he was no longer smiling. Instead, he was hanging his head, appearing ashamed. A tall, robust-looking man with a big blond mustache towered over him.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Agnarr murmured, shuffling his feet. “I just…wanted to look around a little. It feels so…magical here.”
His father’s face grew beet red. “Magic,” he spat. “Agnarr, what have I told you about magic? Nothing good comes from magic. It is to be feared, not admired.”
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Agnarr murmured, still not looking his father in the eye. “I just—”
But his father waved him off, dismissing him without so much as a goodbye. Instead, he stormed over to the soldiers gathered at the head of the camp. “Are you ready?” he asked. “For the…festivities?” He laughed at this, but somehow the laughter didn’t sound real. It was harsh. Bitter. Almost threatening in tone. I frowned, a strange feeling worming through my stomach. What he said hadn’t been wrong. But there was something about the way he said it….
I turned my attention back to Agnarr. He was watching his father with a look of unhappiness. And maybe a little…loneliness?
My heart tugged at the sight. I knew all too well what it was like to feel alone. Even when surrounded by so many others.
I watched as a new man approached. This one was wearing the same uniform as the other soldiers and had dark skin and kind eyes. Agnarr looked up at him and I saw his face brighten. Whoever this man was, he was a friend. I couldn’t catch what they were saying, but I could tell they were joking around; the somber mood was lifting.
The call of horns broke through the air, announcing the official start of the feast. Everyone in the camp erupted into excited chatter and rushed toward the sound, arms laden with trays of food and other baskets and boxes, presumably gifts of some kind.
Now no longer nearby the others, I was able to sneak out of the tent—after taking a second helping of the sweet brown blocks, obviously—and head in the direction of the celebration.
I was halfway there when I realized I’d left my shawl in the tree and was still wearing the borrowed Arendellian cape. I slipped the cape off my shoulders and hung it on a nearby tree branch; if the elders caught me wearing something so unfamiliar, they might question why. I considered going back to get my shawl, but in the end decided against it. It would still be there when I returned later, and I didn’t want to be late for the feast.
“Gale, take me to the celebration,” I whispered. In a moment I was up in the air, swirling in the gusts, twirling among the leaves. The air tickled my flushed cheeks and I couldn’t help laughing out loud. And who could blame me? It was a glorious thing, dancing with the wind.
Suddenly, I got the sense I was being watched. Had Yelana finally become impatient with my absence and tracked me down? Well, when I looked below, it wasn’t her at all, but rather Agnarr himself, looking up at me with the most fascinated eyes. I realized he probably thought it was magic, what his father had been talking about before. That I was some creature of nature, able to spread my hands and fly of my own accord.
The thought tickled me even more than Gale’s breeze, and I burst into laughter as the Wind Spirit spun me higher and higher until I was breathless and dizzy. I could feel Agnarr still watching me. But I didn’t mind. Instead, I tucked my knees to my chest and launched into a perfect double-barrel roll. Might as well give him something to see.
But just as I was about to have Gale set me down so I could meet Agnarr at last, the laughter and happy sounds emanating from the feast suddenly grew quiet.
Too quiet.
MY HEART POUNDED WITH FRIGHT AS A heightened pitch of angry voices suddenly reached my ears. What was going on? Gale seemed to sense my unease, setting me down before I could ask. By the time my feet had touched the earth, Agnarr was long gone and the angry shouting had transformed into screams of terror. A herd of spooked reindeer bolted past, almost trampling me.
It was then that I smelled it. The stench of smoke. I looked up, shocked to see flames of a purplish hue emanating from the angry Fire Spirit leaping from tree to tree, setting everything aflame, black smoke rising skyward. The ground suddenly rocked under my feet and my heart leapt to my throat as my ears caught an all-too-familiar sound.
It was the roar of the Earth Giants! The earth trembled with every pounding step. Had our celebration awoken them from their slumber by the river?
A shiver of fear tripped down my spine. I needed to find my family. Now.
I raced through the forest, the smoke getting thicker as I got closer to our camp, until it was nearly impossible to see. My eyes stung and watered, and my breath heaved down my throat in short gasps. It was then that I realized something else was going on amid the chaos. Something worse than the raging spirits themselves.
The Arendellians and Northuldra were attacking one another.
My ears picked up the sound of swords violently clanging against each other. The shouts of anger, then agony, rising above the crackle of flame and the roar of wind. Through the thick smoke I could barely make out shadows darting and swooping in combat, though what had begun the battle was unclear. All I knew was that the situation was very bad, and
seemed to be getting worse by the minute.
I didn’t know where to go. What to do. Was there anywhere safe to retreat until this was over?
My mother’s shawl! I had to get it now, since the trees were on fire. It was the only thing I had left of her and I couldn’t let it burn.
I changed directions, sprinting back toward the tree. My throat was raw from inhaling smoke and my lungs ached. As I ran, my mind raced with troubled thoughts. The spirits were clearly angry, lashing out at everyone in the forest. Was their rage caused by the battle? Or had they started it?
Finally, I reached the tree outside the completely deserted Arendellian camp. Upon plucking the shawl from the hollow, I wrapped it around my shoulders. Hugging the fringe to my chest in relief, I looked all over. The fire was still raging, the earth still shaking. Even the wind had risen up into a monstrous gale. I’d never seen anything like it.
I was on the verge of leaving when I heard a weak cry. Whirling around, my eyes widened as I spotted a crumpled figure splayed out against a large boulder. Blood seeped from a cut in the person’s head, pouring down the rock, darkening the earth below. There was so much blood that it took me a moment to recognize him. But when I did, I gasped.
It was the boy. Agnarr. And he was badly hurt.
I glanced back at my forest. I knew I needed to return there, to our side, to find my family. To shelter in safety with them until the spirits were appeased and the battle had ceased. But what if I abandoned Agnarr and no one came for him? The crackling of the flames roared louder; the heat curled the hair on my arms. The air was filled with thick smoke. And he was in no shape to get to safety on his own.
Suddenly I heard voices calling my name from somewhere within the forest. My family was looking for me, I realized. They sounded worried. I needed to get to them, let them know I was all right. Let them lead me to where it was safe.
But then Agnarr would die.
I stared down at him, paralyzed by indecision. He looked pale as death, but I could see his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. He was alive, but for how long? There were no Arendellians around. Even if they were looking for him, they might not find him before he lost too much blood. Before his lungs filled with smoke and he couldn’t breathe.
But—just maybe—I could save him.
My mind raced; I was torn. I thought back to the forest. The fighting between his people and mine. That made him an enemy, even if I didn’t know why.
I looked down at his drained face. And yet…he was also just a boy.
An injured boy who would die if I didn’t do something.
A tree behind me creaked, fire snapping at its limbs. A branch broke, crashing from above. On instinct, I threw myself at Agnarr, rolling him to the side just in time to avoid the fiery brand. It hit the ground where he’d been lying only seconds before, and the dry brush around it flared up.
I inhaled deeply, making my decision. Lifting my raw voice to the sky, I sang for Gale, calling for the Wind Spirit the same way I always did. “Ah ah ah ah!”
For a moment, I heard nothing, and I began to worry the spirit was too wrapped up in whatever was happening to answer my call. But at last there was a rush of wind and a breeze that floated around me questioningly. I let out a breath of relief.
“Help us, Gale,” I begged.
The Wind Spirit obeyed, scooping both of us up into its embrace and sweeping us across the forest in a fierce rush. For a moment the boy’s eyes fluttered and I wondered if he would regain consciousness. He muttered something softly that I couldn’t quite hear, then passed out again.
“Come on,” I said to the wind, my heart beating fast in my chest. “We have to hurry.”
Gale picked up the pace, rushing us faster away from danger. As we flew, my eyes darted around the woods, desperate to find someone—anyone—who could help us.
It was then that I saw the group of Arendellian horses and wagons, piled high with injured people hacking and sputtering, rubbing their eyes, their skin caked with soot. It appeared they were about to evacuate the area.
“There!” I pointed for Gale. “Put him down in that wagon.”
The Wind Spirit obliged, sweeping us forward and dropping us gently onto the wagon. As Agnarr’s back settled against the cart’s wood, he murmured something again. I leaned over him, trying to hear what he had to say.
Suddenly, everything went dark.
I reached up, surprised to find an Arendellian cloak over my head, covering almost my entire body. Gale must have thrown it over me. But why?
Danger was approaching.
My ears pricked at the sounds of footsteps, loud, and of more than one person approaching. I held my breath, my heart pounding so hard I wondered if I’d crack a rib. The wagon rocked, as if someone had stepped onto the front of it. Then, to my horror, it began to move.
I struggled to peek out from under the cloak. I needed to jump out of the wagon while I still could. Run back to the safety of the forest. But there, riding behind the wagon, were three Arendellian soldiers armed with sharp swords.
“Do you see any of those traitors?” one of them asked the others, his eyes darting suspiciously in all directions, his voice rough from inhaling smoke.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you,” stated the middle one, with dark hair in total disarray. “I’d slash them all down where they stood.”
“I can’t believe it! We came in peace! We built them a dam! And this is how they repay us? With sorcery? Trickery?” the third shouted, his horse dancing under him as it felt his tension.
My heart panged in horror, refusing to believe the soldiers’ hateful words. We were a peaceful people. We’d welcomed the Arendellians to our land. Accepted their gift of the dam. Why would we rise up against them now?
As for magic or sorcery—we didn’t have any. We used only the gifts given to us from the spirits. The elders had been very clear on that from the first day we met the Arendellians.
At that moment there was another gust of wind. At first I thought it was Gale, maybe rushing in to save me from my fate. Instead, a thick, heavy mist seemed to drop from the sky, settling down onto the earth like a giant wall behind us. It blocked out the forest, from sky to ground, as far as my eyes could see.
The wagons ground to a halt. The soldiers called out in alarm, staring at the shimmering gray fog in dismay.
“More black magic!” one of them muttered, making strange patterns with his hands, as if to ward off whatever it was. “Evil sorcery!”
“Let’s get out of here,” the other barked. “Before it comes for us, too!”
My heart lurched. What was happening? My home! My family! Trapped behind some kind of wall—and I was on the wrong side. I had to return before it was too late.
Or was it already too late?
If I showed myself now, the soldiers might declare me a traitor. But if I didn’t, I might lose my entire world. Panic flared inside me. What should I do?
Suddenly, I felt a flutter of movement beside me. I glanced over. Agnarr had woken—though maybe not completely. He blinked, looking at me with sleepy green eyes. For a moment our gazes locked. My heart thudded. I shook my head, glancing back at the growing mist and letting out a small moan.
Agnarr took my trembling hand in his and squeezed so lightly I could barely feel it. Yet at the same time, it was as if I could feel nothing else in the world.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped square. I opened the paper tentatively, revealing a tiny block of that brown stuff I’d tasted in the tents. Shocked, I returned my gaze to Agnarr, who smiled.
“Chocolate makes everything better,” he whispered.
Then his eyes closed again and his breathing slowed. He’d fallen back asleep. But his hand remained in my own as the wagons rolled on, away from the mist. Resigned, I settled down under my cloak, slipping the block of chocolate into my mouth. Its sweetness could only be r
ivaled by the warmth of Agnarr’s hand.
Like it or not, I was going to Arendelle.
But as to whether it would be okay?
Only Ahtohallan knows.
“THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE IN THE WAGON!”
I woke in confusion as the Arendellian cloak was ripped from my head and body, the sudden burst of sunlight nearly blinding me after a night spent in darkness. I blinked rapidly, trying to gain my bearings as my heart thudded with rising panic. Where was I? Why did I ache so much? And who were these large, strangely dressed men leaning over me with confused looks on their bearded faces? I pulled the cloak back over my shoulders, huddling in fear.
It came back to me in a rush. The celebration. The battle. The boy I’d saved. The trap I’d somehow found myself in. The mist falling over the forest. I struggled to sit up, fear raging through me like wildfire. Where was Agnarr? Had I really slept through them taking him out of the wagon? I thought back to his hand clasping mine, to his promise that everything would be okay.
But now he was gone. And I was with men who would rather see me dead.
I tried to dart away, leaping from the wagon. But I landed wrong, on legs that had moments before been fast asleep. A jarring pain shot through my ankle and up my calf, and I dropped to the ground with a small cry. The men quickly surrounded me, now with suspicious looks on their bearded faces.
I bit my lip, realizing I’d made a huge mistake.
“Who are you, girl?” one man demanded. “Why were you trying to run?”
I blinked up at them, terror making it impossible to speak. My mind flashed back to the soldier’s words the day before.
I’d slash them all down.
“You don’t think she’s one of them, do you?” another man added, squinting at me with cold gray eyes. “A little stowaway from the forest?”
