by Rin Chupeco
Tala bit down on her hand to stifle her scream. Alex had stopped moving altogether.
A dark silhouette appeared. It had a wolf’s shape, but was twice as big and bulkier. Several sharp points protruded from its body, like there were large spikes embedded on its skin. Snapping sounds accompanied every step.
The figure bent its head and sniffed the air. It paused by the tent’s entrance, snuffling. The flap moved slightly, and Tala could make out, to her horror, a large glittering paw that was more ice than skin. The firebird slowly rose to its full height, eyes riveted on the shadow. Dim fire strands snaked out from its feathers, smoldering.
Several howling noises called out again, but the paw retreated, and the shape reared back and snarled. Its silhouette slunk away from the tent, moving out of sight.
It was quiet for several minutes, neither of them willing to look outside to see if the ice wolves had left, until the tent flap shifted again. Tala fought to muffle a shriek.
“They’re gone,” Ken said to them, looking relieved. “Something else chased them off. I don’t think I care what at this point.”
Still shaken, Tala crawled out.
“When I saw one making for your tent, I thought we were gonna fight for sure. Would have been a bloody mess.”
Loki shimmied down a tree. Zoe followed, lowering herself down from a whip that quickly uncoiled itself from a higher branch. Cole reappeared from behind some tall bushes. An owl drifted down in front of Tala, hooted once, and turned back into West.
“West,” Loki said. “Clothes.”
“Oh. Righty-ho.”
“Those were ice wolves? But they were all literally made of…”
“Ice,” Ken supplied. “Yeah, creatures spawned from Beira tend to be named literally. They’re blind, but they’ve got a very, very good sense of smell. Zoe’s trick worked, but that last one got a little too close to camp for comfort.”
“They shouldn’t have gotten so close,” Cole said, his face taut. He was angrier than Tala had ever seen him.
“We’ll ride out as soon as it’s light,” Zoe decided. “I think it’s best if we bypass Ikpe altogether and keep going.”
“Ikpe?” The name sounded familiar.
“Those other howls didn’t sound like ice wolves,” West said thoughtfully. “I wonder if it was—”
“The Dame!” Tala exclaimed.
West’s expression changed to one of puzzlement. “The Dame chased them off?”
“No, she said we needed to spend the night in Ikpe. She didn’t tell me why, but she seemed to think it was important.”
“You must be joking,” Zoe said. “Those ice wolves could attack the village; they’re this close.” She ticked off a finger. “That’s a con.”
“If Great-Aunt Elspen thinks we should stay the night, then we should stay the night,” West declared firmly. “That’s a pro.”
“Pro: We’ll need to warn the village,” Ken said. “Isn’t that our responsibility?”
“I’d assume they’ve spent enough winters in here to know about the ice wolves,” Zoe noted, suspicious. “And you seem a little too enthusiastic about this responsibility than others you’ve had.”
“Ikpe’s still got that glyph mine, doesn’t it? Now that we’re here in Avalon, won’t it be important to secure the place and make sure no nightwalkers have gotten to it? You’ve seen to what extent the Snow Queen wants her hands on those.”
“Our last three Avalon representatives for the Miss Universe pageant were also from Ikpe,” Alex murmured, and Ken’s ears turned pink. “Ken, you don’t even know if the village’s gonna turn out like the last one.”
“No.” It was Zoe who spoke up. “Disingenuous as it was, he’s got a point. We need to know what the state of the mine is, and if any of the nightwalkers have breached its protection spells. I know we need to get to Lyonesse as fast as we can, but…” She hesitated, glancing at Loki for confirmation.
“It won’t change our traveling time much. A day, at the most. It’s your call, Zo.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said sourly. She looked down at the ground, and Tala could almost see her mind going through more pros and cons, her lips moving wordlessly. Finally, she sighed.
“I suppose one less night spent in the woods is always a good thing.”
“A day here means almost a week outside Avalon,” Alex said tartly. “Or don’t you remember? I want to get to Maidenkeep as soon as possible.”
“We only get one shot at this. If the seeress says we need to do something at Ikpe, let’s at least be thorough about it. Unless you think she’s lying?”
Alex bit his lip. Tala remembered that night at the castle, the fear Alex couldn’t hide after his encounter with the Dame. “Fine. But let’s make it quick.”
“To Ikpe it is, then.”
“To protect any survivors,” Ken asserted.
“Right, but who’s going to protect them from you?”
* * *
“Here,” Alex said to Tala the following morning. “It’s probably not breakfast food, but I figured I’d use up my turn before West can get his hands on the cornucopia again. It probably doesn’t taste as good as you remember, but it’s the best I can do.”
It was a plate of adobo, exactly the way her mother prepared it, and on a large bed of rice besides. Tala tried to hold back her tears again. “That’s your favorite food?” she managed to whisper.
“Prepared by my favorite people,” he said quietly, and walked off before she could formulate a reply.
21
In Which the Group Finds New Lodgings and Strange Butterflies
They encountered no other ice wolves in the day and a half it took to reach Ikpe, to everyone’s relief. They took turns standing guard the next night, rising at first light so they could travel as many miles as they possibly could.
The firebird dozed frequently in its saddlebag, tired from its nightly duties of providing them warmth when their campfire wasn’t enough. Occasionally Alex would lift and transfer it onto his lap whenever it showed signs of discomfort; always gentle, always supportive. The firebird would coo its sleepy thanks before snuggling drowsily against the boy’s stomach.
Its snores, while not loud enough to attract unwanted attention, raised eyebrows among the rest of the group. Once or twice Tala even caught the normally expressionless Cole sneaking incredulous glances at the sleeping bird, like he couldn’t believe any animal was capable of producing that kind of noise. Only Alex didn’t seem to think it was anything out of the ordinary, and Tala wondered if he’d lost his hearing.
“That might be the scariest sound I have ever heard of in my life,” Ken said quietly, after the firebird unleashed one particularly loud thunderclap that might have actually snapped a twig off a tree as they passed.
His horse made a curious, neighing sound.
“I know. You wouldn’t think it, looking the way it does, huh?”
It whinnied.
“I’ll tether you some ways from it next time. I didn’t know the snoring bothered you.”
“Does he have to keep doing that?” Zoe asked Loki, somewhat irritably.
Loki shrugged. “You should know by now that there’s not a lot of ways to shut Ken up.”
“Better than trying to talk to a nightwalker,” West said, with a shudder.
“You understand them, West?”
“You pick it up, after a while. They only ever really say ‘Hungry’ or ‘Kill.’ They don’t have a very large vo…vock…they don’t use a lot of words.”
Tala kept her eyes on the back of Alex’s head as they rode. Since that encounter with the ice wolves, he had taken deliberate care not to talk to her privately again. He was always the first to retreat back to the tents whenever dinner was over and made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood for any kind of conversation. She still wasn’t ready to
talk about her father, and she knew it was being hypocritical, but she missed her closeness with her best friend. She hated the idea that he was pulling away from her, even while being on this same journey with him. The incident with the adobo had seemed promising, but he’d withdrawn completely after that, much to her frustration.
They passed through what should have been large expanses of farmland, but the snow had claimed everything here too. Every now and then a lone hut or cabin came into view; despite their deteriorating conditions, Ken would ride out to investigate with hope shining in his face despite the odds—only to return, visibly disappointed. His optimism faded slowly with every explored residence, but he persevered.
“You all right?” Zoe asked quietly, after the eighth time Ken returned. The girl was a better realist than he was, but Tala knew she didn’t have the heart to reproach him.
“Of course. This is nothing. We always gotta check, just in case, right?” But Ken’s shoulders slumped a little when he turned away.
To help distract from their gloomy surroundings, Loki told them a little about Ikpe. “Most Ikpeans came here from Nigeria after Avalon offered them sanctuary at the height of the transatlantic trade of enslaved persons. With a steady supply of Avalon glyphs on their side, they formed an alliance with freed Africans from other tribes also given sanctuary here. They returned to fight the Americans, freeing more of their kinsmen and making the trade so unprofitable it ended weeks later.”
“In history class, we were taught that the Royal government ended it after Avalon offered spells that were more productive,” Tala said.
Zoe snorted. “Avalon gave the Americans spells because they didn’t want a war on two fronts, when they still had to oppose Beiran involvement in the Crimean War. Part of the agreement was abolishing slavery and indenture. The South rose up in arms because of it, but that didn’t last long either.”
“Not like their treatment of Black people in the years after improved much either,” Alex murmured.
Tala nodded, remembering Miss Hutchins and her angry assertion that the lies always began in school textbooks.
“Avalon had always been a hotpot of culture,” West said proudly. “There are Ikpeans all over the kingdom, but Ikpe itself protects one of Avalon’s largest glyph mines.”
“The term is melting pot of culture,” Zoe told him.
“That too.”
It was early evening before they finally caught a glimpse of the small cluster of rooftops in the distance, an inhabited village, evidenced by the trails of smoke steaming up the air. “That’s definitely Ikpe,” Ken said, perking up again. “And there are people in there! Living, breathing people!”
The village was composed of a hundred or so houses, clumped together halfway up a small hill; barely a tenth of the size of Lyonesse, according to Zoe. Twin wooden posts and a small gate at the base marked the village’s boundaries from the rest of the world. A large slab of stone, vaguely human-shaped, lay propped against the massive closed doors, and Tala had to lean back from the strength of the spells that emanated from it.
A tall, stout spire stood farther up the hill. Officious-looking men, armed with guns and swords, patrolled the immediate vicinity on horseback, looking for all the world like they meant business.
“What is that monstrosity?” Alex asked, staring up at the spire with horror.
“A tower?” West suggested helpfully.
The prince sighed.
“An outpost, maybe?” Zoe frowned. “It’s flat plains for miles around. You can see anyone coming for at least a league even without it. What I’m more concerned about is that strange stone over there that’s packed full of magic.”
“It’s a barrier,” Tala said, concentrating. “To protect the village, I think. Want me to feel it out?”
“Don’t,” Alex said immediately. “It’s one of their sacred stones. You’ll antagonize the whole clan.”
“Are you familiar with the people from Ikpe?” Zoe asked.
Alex met her gaze, looked away. “I’m familiar enough with the people I’m supposed to be leading.”
Three of the guards had spotted them; they approached on their horses, guns leveled at them, but their demeanor was cautious rather than outright hostile.
“Really not liking this Avalonian hospitality at all,” Ken murmured.
One of the men called out in a language Tala didn’t understand. Alex spurred his horse forward.
“Your Highness!” Zoe protested.
“I’ll take care of this.” Alex turned to the men, responding in the same odd language. He’d barely finished before the soldiers jumped off their mounts, bowing low before him.
“That’s odd,” the prince said, surprised. “They said they were expecting us.”
“We have been,” said one of the men, speaking English this time with the faint Avalonian accent. “Six months ago. You are very late. Please stay and enjoy our festival. We apologize for our earlier aggression. It has been some time since anyone outside the village has come through our gates.”
“It is of no consequence, Mfoniso, and thank you.”
“You are the prince. It is our duty, and also our fervent hope that your presence here means spring is still in Avalon’s future. I shall inform our priestess immediately. In the meantime, we offer you our humble inn to stay.” The man turned and barked out more commands to his soldiers. The gates opened.
“A priestess?” Tala asked.
“Obeah is their form of magic, and the practice runs deep in the village,” Loki told her. “My fathers and I’ve stayed with them in the past.”
“A festival?” Ken asked. “They’re surrounded by frost and nightwalkers, and they’re having a festival?”
“It’s not just a festival,” Alex said. “It’s a ritual and a celebration, from what I remember of my history. People are allowed to celebrate even when times are hard, Ken.”
Ken scowled. “I know, and I’m not saying they can’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon that we’ve finally found people here, but how did they survive? And how do they know that you’re the prince? It’s not like they’ve got a current picture of you to compare to.”
“Mfoniso said their priestess predicted our arrival.”
“Yeah. Six months ago, exactly like the Dame thought. Not a coincidence, if the inaccuracy’s consistent.” Ken sighed. “Another seeress?”
“Any place that has their own oracle would have had higher chances of survival,” Zoe said, “just like the Dame with the Count of Tintagel.” She nudged her horse into a canter, her voice crisp. “Still, be prepared to ride out immediately at any sign of trouble. If Mr. Mfoniso is willing, the priestess sounds like she’s willing to listen to us, but keep all your segen hidden, anyway, and especially keep the firebird out of sight, Your Highness. Until we know what she intends, the more questions we can avoid answering, the better.”
“Have we gotten around to electing a leader yet?” Loki asked impishly. “Because I’m voting for her.”
Despite the threat of the frost and the distinct chill in the air, there were flowers strewn everywhere; small paths were made, literally, from pale pink petals and rosebuds, still dewy and wet. Where they’d gathered enough of the bouquets from, Tala had no idea. Heat blazed out from every lamppost that dotted the well-paved streets.
Ken and West perked up visibly at the sight of the women, slate-eyed and black-haired with dark skin. They danced in bright red dresses, with gold sashes tied around their waist. Some wore garlands carefully combed into their thick, curly hair. Others wore elegant weaves in different styles, with roses tucked behind their ears.
Butterflies of varying sizes dotted the trees around them, and the strangest thing was that they were glowing, flickering in and out of view. Some encircled the group, bold and unafraid; flickering as brightly as candles and shining down on their path, leaving tiny th
reads of light in their wake.
“Butterflies don’t shine like that.” Tala was astounded.
“Someone in this village,” Zoe said, “is extremely talented at magic. They do possess one of Avalon’s bigger glyph mines, so it shouldn’t be a surprise, I guess.”
Tala cupped her hands as one alighted on her palm, its lights dimming and fading as it came into contact with her skin. It didn’t seem to mind, but its glow took on a strange new reddish aura before taking flight again. The firebird snuck its head out of Alex’s pack and cooed, and for a few brief seconds its feathers flared too, as if mimicking the butterflies’ glow.
“Your Highness,” Ken complained. “Tell your firebird to stop its glowy thing. Weren’t we supposed to be keeping it hidden?”
“I don’t think it matters,” the prince said, gazing around. “If the priestess here’s as good as the Dame, then she’ll know about it, anyway.”
Tala looked up one last time as they approached the inn, saw the butterfly she had touched circle another, the latter soon acquiring that same rouge tinge.
The lodge was so small, it was barely that, but after their journey it looked warm and inviting from the outside. Ken wheeled his horse into the stables, and the rest followed closely after. A man stepped forward to meet them, ready to take the reins. He bowed low. “Your Highness. Welcome to our humble home.”
“News flies quickly here,” Alex noted.
“Words soar on swift wings in Ikpe. Sometimes that can be a matter of life and death,” said the innkeeper, as they were shown inside the inn. The accommodations were simple, constructed mostly from dark aged wood and bamboo, but felt luxurious to Tala given their last few days of travel. A large flat-screen television set was mounted on the wall. The innkeeper gazed at it with some melancholy. “My misfortune to have bought it two days before the frost arrived,” he said, with a sigh. “I had been looking forward to the FIFA Cup too. Our magic can only do so much. Tomorrow marks the last day of our priestess’s granddaughter’s fattening room, however, and our celebrations to commemorate its end begin tonight.”
