by Sarah Fine
“I see that our warriors sleep safe in a warm city instead of freezing by the northern shore.”
“Are we safe?” She waves her arm toward the door. “We are enclosed in a wall of stone, along with an unknown number of people who crave freedom more than their own safety, and another many thousand only awaiting a sign that freedom is possible.”
Halina raises her head. Her young son is curled on her lap, his head against her shoulder, and her arms are tight around him. “Old Nisse might have cowed us for a time, but that does not mean our spirits are crushed. We’re going to take our city back.” She gives Thyra a frustrated look. “And you said little red would help.”
My mouth drops open as I turn back to Thyra. “You did what?”
“I said you would be an ally,” Thyra says slowly. “You saved me that night in the fight circle, Ansa. It made both of us dangerous outcasts among Nisse’s tribe.”
But Nisse promised me redemption, if only I do as he asks. I swallow those words. I have a feeling I know what she would say to that, and I’m not in the mood for her questions—they always tear the lid off things I thought were locked down. “So you thought I would join you in helping the Vasterutians defeat the Krigere?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Now who is the traitor?”
Thyra winces and gives Halina an apologetic look. “The Vasterutians want the same things we do, Ansa. We are not so different.”
“We are different! We’re warriors and they aren’t.”
“There’s the arrogance that blinds our tribe,” she says. “Don’t we all bleed red?”
“It’s not arrogance—it’s pride in who we are! And our chieftain should have it in abundance.”
“I am proud of who we are.” Her brow furrows. “I cannot always be proud of what we do. I love our people—and that is why another invasion must be stopped. It is lunacy.”
All my doubt and frustration over her refusal to avenge our tribe rises to the surface once more. “At least Nisse is taking action! He means to give our warriors their vengeance, and their pride.”
“So you’ve chosen your side, little red?” asks Halina.
“I haven’t done anything except wake up from a stupor and find myself hopelessly tangled in intrigue and lies!” I glare at Thyra. “But perhaps I was before as well, and I simply didn’t realize it.”
Efren reaches beneath his cloak, possibly for a weapon.
“If any of you make a move against me, you will instantly regret it,” I snarl. “I don’t need fire or ice to make people bleed.” I don’t care if I’m half starved and scarred; I know how to turn people’s weapons against them.
“Ansa won’t hurt anyone,” Thyra says to Efren, then turns her authoritative gaze on me. “She’s smarter than that.”
“You still haven’t told me exactly what you’re planning. And don’t give me that ‘whatever I have to’ dung. I don’t want to hear it. Are you stirring some sort of rebellion?”
“We don’t need either of you for that,” says Halina. “But you could help save lives. Krigere and Vasterutian both.”
Thyra sighs. “Haven’t you ever questioned our way of life, Ansa?”
I squint at her. “Why would I?”
“We live by taking from others.”
“Because we are warriors. What else are we to do?”
“Here in the south, they trade with one another.”
“So? Why trade when you can simply ride in and snatch what you want?”
“We don’t treat our andeners that way.” Her jaw tightens. “Or, we shouldn’t.”
“Our andeners are tribe.”
“Ask Nisse how he’s treating them next time you see him.”
I groan. “What are you getting at?”
“Ansa, do you ever wonder what happened to your parents? Your real parents. The ones who birthed you and loved you?”
I edge backward. “No. And I don’t want to.”
“Why?”
Because it’s too painful. “Because they were victims!” I jump to my feet, my breath rushing from my throat in a cloud of frost as the image of my mother invades my mind. She reaches for me with eyes full of love as she bleeds and burns and dies. “Because they were weak,” I say, my voice cracking. Too weak to protect me from the monsters.
I push the thought away yet again before confusion can swamp me.
When I open my eyes, Thyra has risen to face me. “Look at her,” she says, pointing to Halina, who is hunched protectively over her child. Efren and Ligaya are in front of her, putting themselves between the children and me—the enemy. “Is she weak, Ansa? Is she a victim?” Thyra leans forward. “She’s still fighting. Just not with daggers or axes.”
I look into Thyra’s blue eyes. “Is she like you, then? Does she fight with poison instead?”
Her gaze flickers with suspicion. “What exactly did my uncle tell you?”
“That he never tried to assassinate Lars. But that you did.” I watch her, waiting for her to bluster with the outrageous accusation.
She goes still. “And you believed him?”
“I never would have. Never.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “But now, after that night in the fight circle . . .”
“I had no choice!”
“You sound so righteous, Thyra. I think you could convince yourself of anything.” And me too, sadly. But not this time. “Is that why you framed Nisse for the crime? Because you had no choice?”
Her face is like polished granite, so perfect, so unyielding. “I saw the chance and took it. And if I see another chance, Ansa, I’m going to do the same. Halina told me you met with Nisse this afternoon. The fact that you’re still breathing only confirms what I suspected—he wants to use you. And that means you might be the only person who can carry a message to our trapped warriors.”
“What about Sander?”
“I haven’t talked to him or seen him since that night in the fight circle. Please, Ansa. Do this for our warriors. Tell them that we can liberate ourselves from this city and make our way north again. Nisse might have sealed the exits to this city, but with the help of the Vasterutians, we could get out. In return, we’ll help them get their city back.”
I stare at her in disbelief, then suck in a deep breath, pushing the ice and fire down, down, down. “I am such a fool,” I whisper, my teeth chattering. “I actually felt bad for lying to you about Hulda and Aksel. Your anger was so sharp that it pierced my heart. And here you are, telling me how you’ve been lying to me all along, and you’re not even sorry.” I look over at Halina. “She’s the one responsible for what happened here! If she hadn’t schemed to get Nisse banished, he never would have come here!”
“You don’t think Nisse was urging my father to sack this place as well?” Thyra asks. “The Torden itself couldn’t quench his thirst for power and domination. He wants to turn the entire south into his domain.”
“And you unleashed him, and your silence kept everyone from knowing the truth of your part in it.”
“My father forbade us to speak of it at all! It seems I’m the only one who honored his wish, though. And as for you . . . I was scared, Ansa. I didn’t know how to help you, and we were nearly to the gates of the city when you killed Aksel. I knew what awaited me here, and I was afraid that if you were close to me, it would expose you to more scrutiny and suspicion, right when you seemed most vulnerable to being discovered. I had to keep you at a distance.”
“You’re a liar. You were only trying to protect yourself,” I say in a mockery of her voice, her words. “Now be honest, because I see how you look at me. You’re only talking to me because you want to use me. But you’re still disgusted and horrified at what I’ve done.”
She puts her hands up, as if trying to calm me down. “Ansa, that’s not true.”
“You think I’m a monster. Say it. You hate what I am.”
“I don’t know what you are anymore,” she shouts. “But I could never hate you.”
My hands shake as I push them through
my hair, knocking off the frost clinging to my brow. It falls in a glittery powder as I glare at her. “You make a very good show of it. But then, you made a good show of loving me, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Ansa, please. I never wanted it to be this way between us.” Her hand crosses the distance.
“Don’t touch me,” I snap, jerking back. My shoulder hits the door frame. “I don’t want to hurt you.” But I will. I swear, if she puts her hands on me, something terrible will happen.
“I’ve made mistakes and so have you,” she says. “But I need you just as I always have. Our tribe is depending on us. Don’t abandon me.”
“You abandoned me first!” I yell, and the Vasterutians wince at the sound of my voice.
“You’ll be heard,” says Halina. “Krigere warriors and andeners have commandeered some of these living spaces, and squads of warriors roam the streets to keep people scared and crush any hint of rebellion. Please. Don’t do this here.”
I glare at her. “You never should have brought me, then.”
“We thought you might help, for her sake.” She inclines her head toward Thyra. “Because of what you did for her in that fight circle.”
“I will do nothing for her sake. Not anymore.” I turn my icy gaze to Thyra. “First you want me to deliver a message, but then what? Use my power to burn Nisse in his bed? Freeze Jaspar solid? It would be convenient for you, wouldn’t it? How many more Krigere would you like me to kill on your behalf, Chieftain?”
“None! I don’t want you to use magic at all!”
Heat sears its way along my bones. “Right. ‘Hold it in, Ansa. Control yourself, Ansa. For once.’ ”
“I’m trying to save us! I want to find a way for our whole tribe to live and thrive.”
“By asking them to fight against their own?” I ask.
“If I can avoid that, I will.” She looks over at the Vasterutians. “But freedom has a cost.”
“You’d rather sacrifice your entire tribe than allow them to fight at Nisse’s side in Kupari. You’d rather them die for you than live for anyone else.”
Thyra steps back as if I’ve punched her. “It seems I’ve truly lost you.”
The pain in her voice, the betrayal there, causes sparks of confusion and rage to flare and catch inside me. My arms burn and itch and tingle, and there is something wet and sticky running down to my wrists—new blisters burst under the heat. Or the cold. I don’t even know which, only that I am full of it, so full that it leaks from me, eating me alive. Halina rises to her feet and pushes her son behind her. “She’s losing control, Thyra.”
A distant shout from the maze of shelters outside the door makes Thyra pull her hood up over her face. “That’s only one of our concerns—Nisse’s guard is coming. They must have heard us.”
“What are you going to do?” Efren asks her. “We have to get you back to your chamber before your guards wake up.”
“Did you poison them, too?” I ask.
Thyra doesn’t answer. She heads for the door, her movements smooth but urgent. “I’ll buy you time. If they catch you and Ansa here . . .”
Halina presses her son’s head to her thigh, her eyes shining with tears of terror that strike a painful note inside me, but Thyra waves her hands. “I’m not going to let it happen, Halina. I made you a promise.”
“But if you’re caught—” Efren begins.
“This is why I stored the herbs in my own chamber and put them in the guards’ goblets myself. No one will take the blame but me.” Thyra opens the door just far enough to slide out, and then I hear her footsteps descending to the alley.
I turn to the Vasterutians. “What’s she doing?”
Halina rushes toward the door. “We have to get you back to your chamber.” She beckons me out into the night with only a brief, loving glance at her family. “If you’re caught out, it will be bad for everyone.”
I follow her, my cloak billowing around my throbbing arms, my thoughts a maelstrom. Thyra wants to align with the Vasterutians against Nisse. It seems there’s no limit to how far she’s willing to go to remain in control of our tribe. But . . . all the reasons I loved her still beat within me, refusing to melt or evaporate no matter how hot my fury burns. Blindly, lost in the churn and shatter of devotion and deception, I trail Halina until her arm shoots out and bars my path.
“Shhh.” She peeks out, then shrinks back. “Oh . . . this is bad.”
“What is it?” But already I hear the sounds of a struggle. I push past Halina to peer from the shadows.
Thyra is on the ground in the middle of a wide lane, surrounded by Krigere warriors. My fingers curl into the stone wall of a shelter as one of them kicks her in the ribs. Her breath explodes from her mouth and she draws her knees to her chest, curling in on herself. From the way her limbs shake with pain and weakness, I know that’s not the first time she’s been struck.
Stay down, I think.
She rolls to her stomach and clumsily gropes for a dagger sheathed along one of the guards’ calves. He knees her in the chest and she falls backward. “I know we’re not to bruise her face, but if she doesn’t stay down—”
“She will,” says a stout female warrior as she quickly kneels behind Thyra and wraps her arm around her throat. Thyra makes a wheezing, choked sound as her face turns crimson. She claws weakly at the warrior’s sleeve. The air around us starts to steam as my unspoken guilt and panic simmer inside.
“She’s pulled their attention away from finding us,” Halina whispers as Thyra goes limp. “Don’t betray yourself now—she sacrificed herself for your safety.”
Nisse’s warriors yank Thyra up by the arms. She is limp, barely conscious. Her feet drag against the frozen ground as they lug her back to the tower.
Halina tugs on my cloak. “Come on,” she whispers. “I know another way to get back to the tunnel. Come with me now if you don’t want to share her fate.”
I have always wanted to share Thyra’s fate. Always.
Until today, when I realized I didn’t understand her at all. And now she belongs to her enemy once again.
Without another word, I whirl around and follow Halina back to safety.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Halina is silent and jumpy as she leads me back through the dirt tunnel to the tower. She keeps tossing wide-eyed looks over her shoulder as if wondering when I’m going to shout for Nisse’s guards and tell them all I’ve just heard.
I do not relieve her fears. She’s lucky I don’t strangle her, though in my present state there’s a good question of which of us would come out on top. She’s put me in a hideous position. She’s conspiring with other Vasterutians, and with Thyra. And she’s trying to drag me into it.
Halina presses me back into the tunnel as we reach the corridor that leads to my windowless chamber, but when she sees the hall is clear, she pulls me by the wrist. I hiss with the pain of new burns, and she lets me go, biting her lip as she looks down at my sleeve, dotted with ooze. “I’ll take care of that,” she says.
“Why would you?”
Her eyes are black in the almost-darkness of the hall. “First, because that is what I’ve been told to do, and if I don’t do it, Nisse will have me killed.” She rolls her eyes. “And second, because this isn’t your fault, and I know it hurts.”
I blink at her. “But after all I just said—”
“No matter, little red. Doesn’t change who I am.” She flashes me a rueful half smile and pulls the key to the chamber from her pocket. She’s just bundled me into the tiny room when there’s a banging on the door.
When she opens it, Sander is standing outside. “I came to make sure Ansa is . . .” His gaze shifts to me. “Thyra’s just been captured out in the city.”
I do my best to look surprised. “What? How? Nisse told me she was in protective custody.”
His eyes are like keys, probing at every lock I have. “She was. And now she is again. I thought you might have—”
“Been helping her?�
� I ask.
Halina lets out a jittery chuckle. “Little red’s been here the whole time, sir. I’d never let her out—wouldn’t want to risk displeasing the chieftain.”
Sander turns his prying eyes to her, but she stands steady beneath the scrutiny. “You’ll be questioned,” he tells her. “All the Vasterutian attendants will be. Thyra managed to get friendly with the guards outside her chamber, and slipped some kind of herb into their mead that left them in a stupor. Nisse will want to know how she got hold of it.”
“I saw her gathering herbs on our journey here,” I say quickly. And even though it’s a lie, I realize bitterly that this latest act against her guards fits what Jaspar said about her. What if I’m only telling half a lie, one that actually captures the truth? “She may have had them when she entered the city. You know she wanted to be ready for anything.” And if Sander believes me, it will protect Halina. I’m not completely sure why I want to, except that I can’t quite rid myself of the vision of her hunched in the corner, her arms around her little boy.
The taut line of Halina’s shoulders curves toward ground. “We’d never want to anger old Nisse,” she says, her voice meek, cowed like she’s supposed to be.
“Good.” Sander is quiet for a moment, long enough to make me squirm. And then he clears his throat and says, “I’m wondering if you want to stretch your legs, Ansa. Will you walk with me?”
“With a blade pressed against my neck the whole time? No, thanks.” In truth, I’m dying to lie down on my pallet and let Halina tend to my arms.
“No blade. I just want to talk.”
I eye him. “About what?”
He sighs impatiently. “Things that can only be discussed among Krigere.”
I glance at Halina, and she pushes my chamber door open and smiles. “I’ll just wait, little red. Take care of you when you come back.” Her voice is unsteady, dripping with fear. She wonders if I’m about to betray her to Sander.
“Fine. I’ll be back soon,” I say, and right now it’s all I can give her as a reassurance.
“Little red?” Sander asks as we slowly walk up the length of the corridor. He sounds amused.
