Erik holds up a box of matches. “Do you think she simply materializes these?”
“It’s possible.” Gerda drapes one of the blankets across the ground and helps Anders sit down, with his bad leg stretched out before him.
“Sephia is an enchantress of great power,” Bae says, as he rubs his flank against the rough bark of a pine tree. “Sorry, little miss, I have an itch.”
“I’m not offended, Bae.” Gerda walks over to him and scratches the side of his neck. “We don’t have food for you, or enough water. Can you find your own?”
“Of course.” He tosses his head until the metal on his halter jingles. “I lived many years in the wild.” He places his nose against Gerda’s cupped hands. “I shall return with the morning light.”
“Go on with you then.” Gerda gives him a final pat.
While Anders rests on the blanket, his head bobbing in exhaustion, Erik gathers fallen branches from the surrounding woods.
“I’m not sure he will stay awake long enough to eat.” He motions toward Anders. “Although, truthfully, he probably needs sleep more.”
Gerda settles next to Anders and allows him to rest his head on her shoulder. “We should give him some more of that medicine, though.”
I fill a cup with water and pour in a few drops of Sephia’s tincture before handing it to Gerda. Turning back to Erik, I help him pile the branches and brush in the center of a cluster of rocks. As he lights the pile with one of Sephia’s matches, I sit on a large stone close to the fire.
Erik settles near me, on another stone. “Hand me my pack, would you?”
I grab up the rucksack and toss it to him. “Do you think you can disappear in the city? I’m worried you might be arrested as deserters.”
Erik pulls a wrapped object from his pack. “Bread,” he says, unwinding the fabric. “Want some?”
“Sure.” I take the chunk of bread, which is soft and smells of rosemary. “Seriously, Erik, do you believe you and Anders will be safe?”
“I’m not sure, but we have a better chance in the city than anywhere else. I do have friends there.” Erik chews on the bread for a moment. “What about you and Gerda? Still planning to leave her with the Stryker family?”
“If I can.” I hand over a flask of water. “There is Kai Thorsen too. He will help.”
Erik’s eyebrows rise to meet the russet hair spilling over his forehead. “What can he do? I suspect he’s no fighter.”
“No, but he’s smart. Very smart,” I add, to counter Erik’s dubious expression.
I offer some bread to the others. When I cross back to Erik, I notice he’s whittling.
I sit and watch his flying fingers. He has a gift, no question. A shape blooms under his hands. It is a rose.
“Is this a gift for Sephia?”
Erik glances at me. “Yes, a brooch. I may never get a chance to give it to her, but I wanted to create something to commemorate our meeting.”
The knife carves layers from the wood, revealing the beauty hidden within.
“She is a stunning woman.”
“True, although not exactly a woman an ordinary man could hope to love.” Erik looks over at me. “I may admire beauty, but I’m also pragmatic.”
“So what is it you want?” I know I am posing a question he may not be able to answer. Still, lulled by the warmth of fire, I must ask.
Erik’s fingers maneuver the knife, cutting and shaping wood. “It’s hard to say, although Anders is right—I am obsessed with beauty. It’s not as simple as a pretty face, though. I always feel there must be something more, something beyond the surface. I’ve seen many lovely women over the years, but somehow, none have been exactly what I want. I mean, what I am searching for. Damn.” He glances up from his hands. “I sound like such an idiot, seeking some ultimate beauty.”
“No, I understand.” Erik’s words cut me like the knife he handles so deftly, but I refuse to betray my pain. “You have a dream, and will not be satisfied until you achieve it.”
“Yes, that’s true.” He shoots me a grateful smile. “I keep thinking I will find it, but I never do. Gerda comes close.”
“Beautiful inside as well as outside?” I stare up into the tree canopy. A single star winks through the collage of leaves, bright as a diamond.
“Yes.” Erik slips the knife back in its sheathe and tucks the rose brooch into the pocket of his jacket. “No, even that is not quite it. I mean, Gerda is lovely and sweet and all, yet somehow it is not enough. It should be, but it isn’t.” He slumps and stares into the fire. “Go ahead— call me a foolish dreamer.”
“I will not. I believe in dreams, and hope one day yours will come true.” I look away, unwilling to witness his longing expression.
Never for you, Varna. All these young men, with all their dreams, but never of you.
The fire sputters. As Erik leans forward to feed more kindling into the blaze, I glance over my shoulder, and notice Anders slumped over, his head resting on the ground. Gerda is not beside him. Perhaps she has gone to fetch water. It would be like her to head off without saying anything, especially if she thought she might interrupt my conversation with Erik.
I rise to my feet. “I need to check on Gerda.”
Erik, lost in his own thoughts, just grunts in response.
I walk deeper into the woods, looking for any sign of my sister. It’s possible she simply slipped away to relieve herself, but I must be certain. As I search, the orchestra of crickets, tree frogs, and owls continues its eternal tuning, never to break into song.
I step into another clearing. Sten Rask stands before me, holding Gerda against his body like a shield.
I run at him. “Let her go!”
A blast of wind blows me back. I fall to the ground, my face pressed into a pile of decaying leaves.
“My dear Varna.” Rask’s voice pours over me like honey—sticky, clogging all my thoughts. “Shall we start over? Rise, my girl, and let us discuss this matter in an amiable fashion.”
I struggle to my feet, spitting out bits of dead leaves. “Release Gerda first.”
Rask tsks. “I am afraid that is not part of the bargain. We can talk about a reasonable trade.”
“What sort of trade?” I examine Gerda’s face. It’s clear Rask has muzzled her. Her mouth opens and closes, yet no sounds emerge.
“I will exchange information for your sister’s freedom.” Rask steps closer, hauling Gerda like a sack of grain. “Frankly, I’d be delighted to release her, if only she would tell me—or you—where Thyra Winther hid the mirror.”
“Gerda does not know.” I move closer, my eyes locked on my sister’s face. “You cannot make her tell you what she does not know.”
“Ah, you see, I don’t believe that.” Rask shrugs and tosses Gerda aside. She slides across the leaf-strewn ground, coming to rest at the base of a pine tree. From her stillness and pleading eyes, it’s obvious Rask’s magic still holds sway.
He advances on me. I cross my arms over my breasts and stand my ground.
“Now, shall we discuss a deal?” Rask gestures in Gerda’s direction. “I will free her from my spell, if you promise to obtain the information I need.”
“I’m not sure I can promise that.”
“You underestimate your abilities, my dear.” Sten Rask stands directly before me, the tips of his boots touching mine. “I believe if you were to speak with your sister and convey the gravity of the situation, she would tell you anything.”
I press my boots into the dirt. “She does not know.”
“Varna.” Rask strokes my jawline with one finger. “I do admire your courage and tenacity, as well as your intelligence. It’s a shame your exterior does not reflect your true nature. Of course, if you wish, I can change that.”
I stare into his dark eyes. “What do you mean?”
A slow smile curves Rask’s sensual lips. “I can grant what I know you desire. Outward beauty to match the passion of your soul. Power to enflame the coldest heart.”
Remembering Erik’s earlier words, my own heart contracts. “I want you to let my sister go.”
“What a pity you have been cursed with that face and figure. You deserve so much more.” Rask leans into me. “You are so much more. Trust me, my dear, I see the real Varna Lund. And if you allow me, I can reveal her to a world blinded by superficial beauty.”
His breath is warm upon my cheek. I turn aside.
This is not important, Varna. Gerda lying on the ground is important. Freedom is important.
Strong fingers grip my chin and twist until I am forced to look at into Rask’s handsome face. We are nose to nose as his fingers slide down to caress the soft skin of my throat.
“Varna.” His voice rolls over me like the purr of a great cat. “You crave what only I can provide, while you in turn can give me what I desire. A fair trade, I believe.”
I close my eyes. “Even if Gerda knew where the mirror is hidden, even if she would tell me, I would not offer you such information.” I open my eyes on Rask’s burning gaze. “At any rate, it’s all nonsense, because she does not know.”
“Someone must.” Rask’s voice cracks like pottery smashed against a wall. Strong fingers slide to my shoulder blades and tighten. “I will find it, whatever it takes. I will have it, and everything else I seek. Everything I need.”
I claw at his hands, but he simply shifts his hold and clutches me to his chest with one arm.
“Give over, my dear. Stop fighting your own desires.” Rask tips my chin back with his other hand and presses his lips against mine.
I feel as if I am drowning, as if the river did take me. Stunned, I sink to the murky bottom and am lost. I am the river and its current roars through my body, vibrating every inch until I feel I must explode.
“Release her!” The words ring through the clearing, rattling the leaves on the trees.
Freed, I slump to the ground, burying my face in my hands.
“Varna!” Gerda crawls toward me, released from enchantment as well. Thank God, and whoever spoke those words Rask had to obey.
Gerda reaches me and falls into my arms. “It’s Sephia,” She shakes my arm. “Look, Varna. See her arrayed in all her power.”
I raise my head and stare across the clearing, where a blaze of light illuminates the shadows. Within the glow, I can barely discern the shape of a tall, slender woman.
Rask shakes off the lethargy cloaking his limbs and spins about to face her. “Do you truly think your power can rival mine? You may be able to take me by surprise once, but I know your limits, Lady of the Roses.”
“As we know yours.” The cloaked figure I spied at Sephia’s cottage materializes from the woods, a wolf padding by her side. I fixate on her cloak, which is the pure green of new leaves and decorated with embroidered vines and flowers.
The stranger shoves back her hood, revealing a wild mane of white-blond curls. Her eyes are pale as crystal in her strangely beautiful face.
It is the face of some fey northern creature, born in caverns of ice.
The face of a Snow Queen.
“You may be a sorcerer, but you are still flesh and blood.” The young woman drops her hand, resting it on the powerful shoulders of the wolf. “One word and my companion will rip you to pieces. Sephia can hold you motionless long enough to make you suffer the agony of such a fate. Choose, Sten Rask. Depart now or be torn limb from limb.”
Rask’s voice fills the clearing. “You’ve caught me unaware, unprepared, for the last time. I will go, but keep watch. I shall obtain what I desire. The mirror and more.” Freed from the last shreds of Sephia’s enchantment, he casts one last glance in my direction before he strides off, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.
As the light surrounding Sephia fades, she crumples. The blond woman rushes to her side and holds her upright until the enchantress regains her bearing.
Gerda stares at the white-haired young woman, her eyes wide with amazement. “Why are you ... ? What are you doing here?”
A smile curls the thin lips of the other girl. “Watching over you, of course.”
The wolf trots forward. I shrink back as Gerda throws open her arms. “Luki!” She snuggles against the wolf’s broad chest.
I look up and over the creature’s shaggy back. “Thyra Winther, I assume.”
Thyra inclines her head. “The very same. Now come, Varna Lund, and let us rejoin your companions.”
Chapter Ten: True Stories
ERIK AND ANDERS ARE both asleep when we return to our camp. Sephia snaps her fingers and they sit up, startled as deer facing a hunter.
“I did not mean to ... Sephia, what are you doing here?” Erik leaps to his feet, his searching gaze sliding from my face to Gerda’s and Sephia’s before focusing on Thyra. “And who are you?”
“You were under an enchantment.” Sephia brushes back her hair with one hand. “No, not mine. It was Sten Rask, who captured Gerda and Varna. He has gone now,” she adds, as Erik reaches for his musket.
Anders looks stricken. “Gerda, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She sits beside him.
“This is Thyra Winther.” Sephia gestures toward the other woman. “She is a friend.”
The smile that brightens Thyra’s sharp-featured face holds more than a trace of irony. “Hello, you must be Erik Stahl and Anders Nygaard. I just met Varna, and of course I know Gerda.” She glances into the woods. “Luki, you may come out now. I think these men will act sensibly.” She eyes Erik until he lays down his musket.
The wolf trots out from the trees to stand at Thyra’s side. Erik gasps and Anders grips Gerda’s hand while staring at Thyra and Luki. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then shakes his head and remains silent.
“Is Freya with you too?” Gerda pats Anders’s shoulder. “Her horse.”
“Oh.” He blinks rapidly.
“Yes, in the woods. Bae’s watching over her.” Thyra whistles and a compact bay mare appears, trailed by the reindeer.
Erik gazes at Thyra with blatant admiration. “Have you been following us?”
Thyra grabs the horse’s bridle and strokes the animal’s satiny neck. “Yes. I’ve been shadowing you, to keep watch over Gerda in particular.”
“Because of the mirror?” I ask.
Thyra shoots me a look cold as an ice spear. “What do you know of that?”
I meet Thyra’s piercing stare and hold it. “It’s what Rask wants—for Gerda to tell him the location of the mirror.”
“She does not know where it is,” says the former Snow Queen.
“Yes, but for some reason Rask will not believe us.”
“Because of the tear.” Gerda rises to her feet. “He must have obtained that information, although I don’t know how.”
“Tear?” Erik glances from Sephia to Thyra. “What is this? Varna and Gerda told us about Rask, and the whole mirror thing, but no one has mentioned a tear.”
“You must get Gerda to explain.” Thyra’s expression softens. “It was her magic, after all.”
“Magic? Gerda isn’t a sorceress or mage or anything like that.” It’s clear from Anders’s expression that he desperately hopes this is true.
“No, and neither am I,” Thyra says. “Not anymore. Still, not all magic is wielded by sorcerers.”
“You stood up to Rask without possessing any magic?” I examine the pale young woman, who meets my gaze with a lift of her pointed chin.
“I had Sephia at my back and Luki at my side. Besides”—she shrugs—“I have faced worse.”
Erik kicks a smoldering branch back onto the fire. “I’m still confused. I understand how Thyra was able to be here, since she was following us, but how did you arrive so quickly, Sephia? We left your home this morning, and have traveled far.”
The enchantress smiles. “I have my ways, although I prefer to use them infrequently.” Her eyes cloud over. “Magic, despite what many may think, is neither simple nor painless. There is thought and preparation involved
in wielding great power. It is how I was able to overcome Sten Rask, at least for the moment. Sometimes a sorcerer can be defeated, if they do not expect the attack.” She casts a significant glance at Thyra, who turns away and toys with the girth of Freya’s saddle.
“You’re only a day’s journey from the city.” Thyra places her booted foot in her stirrup and gracefully swings up onto Freya’s back, exposing a pair of breeches beneath her rumpled skirt. “I will continue to shadow you. First, though, I must deliver some messages. Bae, will you carry Sephia back to her home before you rejoin Gerda and the others?”
“Yes, my queen.” Bae lowers his head.
Thyra frowns. “I am no one’s queen.”
“You will always be mine.” The reindeer’s glistening dark eyes focus on the former Snow Queen.
Gerda steps up and grabs Freya’s bridle. She stares up at Thyra. “How is Kai? I’ve received letters, but he has not been home in some time.”
Thyra’s face freezes into an icy mask. “I don’t know. I have not seen him.”
Gerda’s blue eyes widen. “Why not?”
“Do you remember the letter I sent you, Gerda? The one where I confessed what I had done?” Thyra glances over at me. “I could have rescued Kai’s father from the blizzard that froze him into insensibility, and eventually killed him. But I did not. Oh, I did not mean for anyone to die,” she adds, obviously reading the horror on my face. “Still, I choose to protect myself and abandon Nicholas Thorsen to his fate.” She fiddles with her reins. “At the time I thought I had good reason to do so. I now know better.”
“The letter? That was months ago and I told you ... ” Gerda shakes her head. “I wrote you back and said it was fine to inform me in a letter but you should tell Kai in person. I warned you to wait until you came home.”
Thyra’s clear eyes narrow. “Yes, but I had already written you both. I sent those letters on the same day.”
Gerda takes two steps back. “How did he respond?”
“He didn’t.” Thyra lays one rein against Freya’s neck and turns her away from us. “I never heard from him again.” She gives the mare a gentle kick and heads off without looking back. Luki follows the horse, his tail swinging from side to side.
Scepter of Fire Page 9
