Ice Shards

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  As I emerged from the cavern, Howl leapt off of the craggy ledge. He stared at me. “Oh my Lady, what happened to you?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Your face. Look at your face.”

  I pulled out a small mirror from my pack and gazed into the glass. Along the sides of my forehead were intricate spirals and loops, beautiful designs in deep indigo, like water flowing down my cheeks in rivers and streams. I reached up and touched them. They did not hurt, but they were permanent—that much seemed clear.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t know what to think.”

  And then, Howl turned to wolf form, offered his back, and I crawled on and we began loping across the Skirts of Hel, back to the cave, back to my life.

  EIGHT

  CAMILLE, SMOKY, AND ROZURIAL WERE WAITING for me when I returned. I gave them a silent nod and they withdrew. Kitää motioned to one of her women, and within fifteen minutes a hot bath was waiting for me.

  Camille and Kitää attended me, helping me remove my clothing. As they peeled off my tunic, Camille gasped.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The scars—they are different.”

  I struggled to see, so Kitää brought a small mirror in for me and held it while I glanced over my shoulder, into the mirror. The scars, the lash marks from the ishonar, had shifted and changed. They now covered my back in an intricate set of coiling waterfalls—beautiful and strange and matching the tattoos on the sides of my forehead.

  “You have been marked by your goddess,” Camille whispered. “I recognize the energy—it’s the same when the Moon Mother claimed me and branded me with her symbols.”

  “But what could she be thinking?”

  “We visit the temple tomorrow. Perhaps you’ll have your answer then?”

  I nodded and stepped into the steaming tub of water, sinking gratefully into the soothing warmth. I had to visit the temple, to ask them remove the curse. To tell them of what really happened and set the record straight.

  “Will you take your old name again once you are cleared?” Camille handed me a soft cloth for washing, and some soapwort.

  I shook my head. “No. I have been Iris for so long . . . and truly, I am not Pirkitta anymore. It would no more fit my nature than . . . than returning to the temple for good would. I realized today, on that mountain, that part of my life is over. It was what it was, and the Lady needed me to stop Vikkommin from becoming a terrifying sorcerer who would have used our religion as a battering ram against the world.”

  Camille let out a soft sigh. “Power is so easily abused.”

  She still hadn’t asked me what happened, only if I had resolved things. Now, waiting for her question, I realized she wasn’t going to, not until I was ready to talk about it.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. “I will tell you after I’ve bathed and eaten. Right now, it’s still too fresh. But tomorrow will you go to the temple with me when I make my stand and demand they break the curse?”

  Camille laughed then. “Iris, I would think that by now you’d know we’d go to the ends of the earth—and beyond—for you. You’re family, babe. And not just because you take care of the house. You are as much family to me as Delilah and Menolly are.”

  Considering that Camille’s sisters were her world, that was a great compliment and one I would not forget. Content with my place in the world, I let the water draw the chill out from my bones and tried to forget the sound of Vikkommin’s screams echoing in my head.

  HOWL AND KITÄÄ, along with a contingent of their people, led us to the doors of the temple. “We will wait out here until you are done. We will not leave you here.”

  I turned to all of them. “If you are sure, then I will try to make it brief. Camille, Smoky, and Roz will have to wait out here, but you may go with me.” I lifted the heavy knocker and let it fall against the door. I’d sent word to the temple the night before and they seemed to know that Vikkommin was gone, because I’d received a summons to attend the next morning.

  The door opened, and for the first time in six hundred years I was allowed to enter the temple of my goddess. As we stepped into the elaborate hall, carved from the solid mountain rock and inlaid with marble and silver and alabaster, my heart broke. I’d been ostracized for so long that it physically hurt to enter these halls where I’d spent my youth, where I’d fallen in love, where I’d been tortured.

  The temple was as I’d remembered it. The main hall was so tall a whisper would echo on the currents, get caught, and rebound from wall to wall. Benches wrought in silver and marble were scattered around the hall. The floor was an elaborate stone mosaic depicting Undutar fighting one of the fire giants.

  “My gods, this is beautiful,” Camille whispered. “Our temples to the Moon Mother are more wild and feral, as is her nature.”

  “It is lovely, isn’t it? I don’t know how many centuries it took to build this hall—look, someone’s coming.”

  I watched as the woman I immediately recognized as the Priestess-Mother slowly walked across the hall, flanked by two Elders. Her station was evident by the ornamentation on her robes. And I recognized the Elders with her, even after all these years. They had been present at my torture and denial.

  Starting to kneel, I found myself unwilling to show them respect. I had to force myself through the proper genuflections. I stood again, as quickly as I could while still paying homage.

  “I have destroyed Vikkommin and released his soul. I also found out the truth of that night. I come to offer you proof of what happened and to demand that you remove your curse.” Of course, technically I had killed him, but it had been at the bequest of the Lady. Surely they couldn’t fault me for that.

  “Follow us, Pirkitta.” And for the first time in six hundred years, my name had been uttered in the halls of Undutar.

  We followed them through the long corridor that led to one of the examination rooms. I stared at the chamber—it was very much like the one in which they’d tortured me.

  The Priestess-Mother motioned for us to sit down. “Pirkitta, while in my prayers last night, Undutar came to me. She told me that Vikkommin no longer lived and that this had been a test for you. That you were innocent of all wrongdoing toward him.”

  Test? What the fuck was she talking about? Undutar had said nothing about a test. And I most certainly had killed Vikkommin, even if at the Lady’s bidding. I wasn’t really innocent, although I’d had good reason for what I’d done. But I decided to keep my mouth shut and find out more.

  “She came to several of the Elders in their dreams, in fact, and told us all the same thing. We are to immediately remove your curse and give you back your robes. You are welcome to rejoin the temple if you like—she did not indicate whether you would do so or not, but we talked about it among ourselves this morning. We would welcome you back with open arms.”

  She smiled widely.

  Struck dumb and rather confused, I simply nodded. Camille gave me a sideways glance, but I shook my head just enough for her to see and she kept her silence. I’d told her—told all of them—during dinner just what had happened.

  I let out a long sigh. Stay in the temple . . . The thought had crossed my mind more than once but I knew—even before I came to the Northlands—that I would never be able to do so. So much had changed. I was not the same woman, not the same Talon-haltija I’d been.

  “I welcome my robes but will not stay in the temple. I will not be visiting here again, in fact. I’ve done what I needed to do, and if you would remove the curse from me, I’ll return to my life as it is and darken your door no more.”

  The Priestess-Mother motioned for me to enter the ring of Elders, and they joined hands, working in silence. I felt a chill run through me, then a quickening—as if my blood jumped and danced—and then they dropped their hands and that appeared to be that.

  “Is that it?”

  “Yes, the curse is lifted. You are free once more to bear children, and you are definitely y
oung enough to do so.”

  I blinked. I’d expected something far more intricate, but apparently the lifting of curses called for a lot less formality than the bestowing of them. Then again, considering the pain that went into receiving the curse, I decided that short and sweet was good enough for me.

  As I gathered the bag containing my robes, I noticed there was something else inside the sack, but once again instinct told me not to look until we were long gone from the temple.

  I made my good-byes and, gazing one last time at the intricately carved walls and the magnificent mosaics, took my leave of the temple as quietly as I’d arrived. We’d been inside about an hour, and it was the last hour I intended to ever spend in the Northlands. Howl’s Pack was waiting, and with Camille and me riding the backs of two of the biggest warriors in wolf form, we headed back down the mountain.

  When we were far enough away, I rooted around in the sack and withdrew what had caught my eye. It was a crystal statue of Undutar, but there was something magical about it. Something I couldn’t quite pick up on. I also noticed my robes were different, and as I gazed at them, trying to figure out what that difference was, it struck me. They were embellished with the same embroidery as were those of the Priestess-Mother’s.

  “What is it?” Camille asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, but inside I had a glimmering suspicion. I just didn’t want to say what yet.

  WE STAYED YET a third night with Howl’s Pack. I headed outside before supper, wearing my new robes, carrying the statue. There were yetis and trolls to contend with, yes, but Howl had guards on duty and with Vikkommin’s shadow long gone, I wasn’t terribly afraid.

  I stopped on the edge of the ice field, staring out at the Skirts of Hel. The cold still made me shiver, but I was also warmed by the knowledge that I’d done what I set out to do. Now I could return home, marry Bruce, and have the children I longed to have. Visions of motherhood danced in my head, and I wondered just what characteristics they’d inherit from me . . . from him.

  As a flurry of flakes fluttered around me, I knelt in the snow and placed the statue before me. I lowered my head to the ground, then sat back on my knees, closing my eyes, willing the words of a prayer to my lips. But no prayer came, only a deep feeling of peace and vindication.

  I have plans for you yet, my Ar’jant d’tel. You are Chosen of the Gods, all right, but not to become Priestess-Mother of the temple here.

  Jumping, I looked around. There, up ahead, was the shimmering form of my Lady, her long dark hair flowing in the wind. Her cloak was of the whitest fur and her eyes swirled with frost and mist.

  “What is your will, my Lady? I am yours, forever and always, marked in body and soul.” I realized that I bore no ill will to her for using me to combat Vikkommin. A priestess was the hand of her goddess, the extension of her Lady’s will. I had been the best tool to stop him. That I’d accidentally learned his abilities, setting my own self at risk, had been collateral damage.

  You will return home, and you shall set up a small shrine to me. You will run this shrine and be the Priestess-Mother to all who seek me out. My power is needed now, as the Earth warms and the glaciers lose their strength.

  I nodded silently, realizing that Undutar meant to be more of a force in the world. Her cooling ways were needed; her mist and snow and fog were vital to the survival of so many creatures. And I would be, as forever and always, her handmaid.

  With a sudden laugh, I realized how far I’d come. I’d crossed worlds to stand at her side, only to find myself her priestess in a suburb of Seattle. I’d trained for years of silent contemplation, yet now I was fighting demons with the D’Artigo sisters and their friends. I’d destroyed my lover to prevent him from misusing his power and had nearly turned myself into a carbon copy. I’d returned to the temple, only to be told to set up another temple on my own.

  Life was filled with one ironic turn after another. But that which mattered most to me: my friends and their fight . . . my goddess and the fact that she loved me . . . that I could marry the man I loved and bear his children—those were the only things that would, in the end, make up the true story of my life.