by Rin Chupeco
She was humming before she’d realized it. Carly Rae Jepsen. “Call Me Maybe.”
When the Snow Queen struck out, intending to gouge at her eyes, it was so easy to catch that slim, perfect hand in her own, and deftly twist it at a 180-degree angle so one can hear the snap underneath all that now-whittled, pathetic skin.
She no longer felt helpless, or useless, or irrelevant. That all ceased to matter.
She was powerful. She was strong. She was fire.
Flames licked at the Snow Queen’s hair, framing what was left of her face, and still Tala lifted the sword, cutting away tiny bits of the woman each time, purposeful and unflinching. She understood now why the Snow Queen coveted the sword, and why she feared its wielder.
The woman sank down on her knees as she loomed above her, her right arm raised.
She felt nothing for the woman; no mercy, no compassion, only resolve. She lifted the Nameless Sword one last time, focusing every ounce of strength she had into the blade and, ruthless, brought it down.
In the moments before her face shattered into a thousand pieces, the Snow Queen looked up at Tala and smiled.
The firebird sang.
The resulting fireball consumed the woman. She seemed to expand into a hundred directions all at once; a hundred indiscernible pieces that flooded the stone floor with sparkling shards of ice. From elsewhere in the castle, a vast howl seemed to rise as every shade within seem to recoil from that same fatal blow, shrieking as they felt their mistress’s pain.
And just like that, it was over. Snowflakes littered the ground as before. Unlike the last time, these quickly melted, the water evaporating in a span of seconds, until nothing remained.
Tala stared at the space that had once been the Snow Queen, the sword slipping out from her numb, nerveless fingers. That strange feeling of implacable resoluteness disappeared. Her knees wobbled, unable to hold up her weight, and then her father was there, enveloping her in his large arms.
“I… What did I…”
“We didn’t know,” her father said, on the verge of tears. “Annelisse told me of that doom once, a long time ago, but I never thought…”
“I don’t want to be chosen.” She tried hard not to be sick. She’d never killed anything in her life, but more terrifying than the Snow Queen’s death was the inexorable calm that came over her the instant Tala took the sword. A calm completely devoid of all emotions and feelings, of everything that felt remotely human, and it frightened her more than ice wolves and shades and the Snow Queen combined.
“Tala, it chose ye. I don’t know if y’could—”
“I can’t!” Tala sobbed. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it.” The sword gleamed, invitingly, seductively, at her, and she shut her eyes.
“Tala,” her father said quietly. “Others’d kill for the chance tae have it. Wars were fought to possess it. You’d be the most important person in the world after Alex.”
“But I don’t want it!” Tala gasped out. “I don’t want to be powerful. I don’t want to be important! When I touched it, it was like I was someone else. Someone crueler. I wanted to kill her. I didn’t care that I killed her. And it felt like I could go on killing. Everything in my way, I could kill. I don’t want it. I want things back the way they used to be.” Just her and her father and her mother, still living in Invierno, hiding their curse from everyone else.
“Tala. You could do a lot of good with—”
“I don’t want to be like you!”
Her father reeled back like she’d slapped him, and Tala regretted the words immediately. “No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I don’t want this. I don’t want to be some stupid hero. I don’t care that I’m selfish. I don’t want to be like her. I don’t want to take that sword and feel so empty, like nothing matters but the thrill of using it. Please don’t make me do it, Dad. Please.”
After a moment’s pause, she felt her father’s arms around her again, holding her tighter.
“Aye,” he said. “I won’t.”
The firebird hobbled closer. It settled itself by their feet, blew out the last puff of fire from its tail feathers, and sighed.
* * *
They patched up her father’s leg as best as they could. The mirror teleported them back into the room, the Nine Maidens silent and dim. Alex was gone. So were the ice maiden and the shades.
In the throne room, Ken was chipping away at one of the large blocks, trying to get at the imprisoned man inside. “They’re still alive!” he shouted back at them, sounding stunned.
He let General Luna take over, to embrace Tala with a loud, happy whoop. Suddenly they were surrounded by people and voices, more people than they had started out with, elated and relieved.
“Tala!” It was her mother, rushing to meet them. With a low sob, Tala met her halfway and hugged her fiercely. They were immediately swamped, as her titos and titas swooped in to join.
“The Gallagher boy deduced you’d found your way into Avalon somehow, hija,” Lola Urduja said sternly, stepping forward. “We’d been monitoring the barriers for months, hoping you would show us any chink in its defenses. Fortunate that we were already watching when the frost disappeared, and we wasted no time rerouting to the nearest looking glass within Maidenkeep so we could—”
Tala flung herself at the old woman. After a startled pause, Lola Urduja laughed, gathering her close.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ken said. “Hold on a minute. You’ve been monitoring the barrier for months? How long do you think we’ve been away?”
“It’s been nearly six months since you disappeared from the sanctuary.”
“Six months?” Zoe shouted. “Did they keep my acceptance into Princeton?”
“We saved Avalon and that’s the first thing you concern yourself with, Zo? Stick all this in your college essay.”
Then West was with them, still naked and grinning from ear to ear, and Loki, slapping him on the back. Zoe laughed, hugging him once Ken was done, and Nya didn’t bother to wait her turn, pouncing on them both. Even Cole was smiling.
“We were so worried, we spent ages wondering where you were and if you were all right.”
“They’re not gonna expect me to pay for the doors, are they? I mean, I couldn’t help it. I was an elephant.”
“West, you’re naked again.”
“Tangina!”
“Nearly had a heart attack, not knowing where you were, hija!”
“And before I forget, Zoe, what the bloody hell are you wearing?”
Tala felt feathers brushing against her hair, a happy jumble of chirps from the firebird nearly overriding her father’s lower and gruff, but no less emotional, “Well done, Tala. Well done.”
“Your Highness,” Lola Urduja said immediately, moving down to one knee, and the others following suit. The firebird took off and resettled itself on the prince’s shoulders when he neared, beaming with pride.
“We have Maidenkeep back,” was all Alex said, weakly, and then began to cry. This time, he didn’t protest when Tala hugged him tightly, their previous fight forgotten as they clung to each other, unwilling to remember anything else but their friendship.
“I have my kingdom back, Tala,” Alex wept. “I have it back. I c-can’t…”
But at what cost, Tala wondered, for them both? The image of the sword lying forgotten on the forest floor was burned into her brain, and even when she closed her eyes she could see it—still shining, still glittering with all the promises to come, and still waiting for her touch.
34
In Which a King Is Finally Crowned
Prince Alexei Tsarevich, former exile, the seventy-fifth king of Avalon, and its current Firekeeper, paced nervously, while Tala and the firebird watched. He was clothed in jewel-encrusted silks with intricate embroidery, and a rich satiny cape was fastened around his shoulders. The room was almos
t as big as the downstairs of Tala’s house back in Invierno, and every corner was so richly furnished in frills and fripperies, she was afraid to touch anything for fear of unintentionally ruining something expensive.
The unexpectedly ostentatious displays of wealth were a far cry from her first impression of Maidenkeep. Not for the first time, she was rethinking her original assumption of Avalon as a small kingdom that might not be able to recover from the frost.
Tala herself was dressed in the breathtaking Mai-i dress spun from abaca that her mother had promised to her months ago, and the pretty takmon shells tinkled softly every time she moved. She’d been worried about looking out of place—the other guests had arrived in gowns and tuxes. But her mother had said the Makilings always wore Mai-i dresses in all the centuries they’ve stood in formal ceremony. That didn’t stop Tala from fretting.
There was a large television mounted on the wall, tuned to an American news channel. Tala pointed out that this would only make Alex’s blood pressure skyrocket—not the best thing before his own coronation—but Alex had insisted. Avalon’s thawing had dominated the news cycle for a couple of weeks, but that was well over a month ago, and some new idiocy from the Royal States’ king was once more keeping the media occupied. Avalon was still in the process of rebuilding; the frost had left most of the buildings intact, and the Nine Maidens’ time spell had ensured most were still in working order. Alex was taking stock of his citizens’ health first and ordering his newly formed army, led by the Count of Tintagel, to seek out more survivors all over the land.
But there was one brief report that day that caught Tala’s attention. A Southwest Skies facility in Arizona had been breached, children allegedly missing. It had not been reported in the major news outlets, save one, and it had buried their lede.
Ryker had disappeared when she’d returned for him, the snow mound he’d been trapped underneath melted to reveal no body present.
Alex paused to examine himself in the mirror, and let out a short bark of laughter. “We look like a pair of overdressed sows on auction at the market, about to break records for the highest bidding price.”
“Speak for yourself. I think I look great. You might worry less if you didn’t move around as much, though.”
“You’re not moving, and you look just as nervous as I am.” He glanced back at the firebird, who was doing the closest bird equivalent to snort-laughing. “If you’re feeling out of place, I can always send for the little gold-rimmed cloak the steward prepared for you. Apparently it’s been in the family for generations, so I know you’ve worn it before.”
The laughter died abruptly, and the firebird stuck its tongue out at him.
Alex fiddled with his cape. “Tala…what if I screw this up?”
“You’re not going to screw this up. I thought this was what you’ve been gunning for your whole life? To see Avalon restored, to finally get your throne back.”
“Yeah, but it was a hell of a lot easier to just imagine having it back. Nobody else was watching. And I’m not done yet. I’ve got the firebird and I’ve got Maidenkeep, but I still have the sword to look for. If that’s what you saw at Tintagel, then it has to be close by—it’s pissing the hell out of me that I can’t find it. I’ve already had the whole castle searched twice.”
Tala was silent. The firebird was silent. She could understand why her father had chosen not to reveal her secret, but she was surprised the firebird was withholding the same thing from its master.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asked.
“Talk about what?”
“You know. Your dad.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve accepted that he was the Scourge.”
“Have you forgiven him yet?”
“Do you want to talk about how you were able to control the Nine Maidens when every historian’s said no king of Avalon has been able to in hundreds of years? What did you sacrifice to learn that spell? The frog curse isn’t the only repercussion of that, is it?”
Alex’s face clouded over. “Are we doing this again?”
“Why is your stuff off-limits but my dad once being a genocidal maniac isn’t? And those weren’t flukes, Alex. Your father purportedly didn’t know how to use the Nine Maidens, but you did. You didn’t want us to bury those people in that village because you knew they were in stasis and you could revive them. You put them to sleep in the first place. You used the Nine Maidens to cast that time spell over the whole kingdom, and you stopped the Snow Queen from reentering Avalon. You admitted as much.”
Alex closed his eyes. “I can’t tell you what I had to give up for it. That was part of the deal I’d made.”
“From the Baba Yaga?”
“You’ll never find her. I don’t know if she escaped the frost. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
“When you told me that you possessed a censured spell, knowing how to control those Nine Maidens was what you really meant and not the frog curse, wasn’t it? But why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’d just met you, then. A lifetime of hiding had taught me that two people who knew a secret wasn’t actually a secret at all.”
“But then afterward?”
“Afterward, I had let it pass for so long that I didn’t really know how to talk to you about it. And it’s not like I can use the Maidens any time I want to. There were limits imposed to when, and defending Avalon was one of them. You’re still the only one who knows, unless you decide otherwise.” The question in his tone was apparent.
“No. I’m not going to tell anyone else unless you want me to. But they’re going to know about it sooner or later. You can’t keep this a secret forever, Alex. Your ancestors died using it.”
Alex grinned. “And I would have died twelve years ago without it, so this is practically a reprieve. I’m going to keep it hidden for as long as I can, anyway. It’s not just me being overly paranoid. When the Snow Queen took over Avalon and unleashed the frost, she had help from within. There are traitors in my kingdom, Tala. Theirs may not have been the hand that killed my parents, but they provided their murderers with the knife to stab them in the back with. And I’m going to stamp them all out one by one even if it takes me the rest of my life. And the Snow Queen’s still out there somewhere. She’s not going to stop until she has my firebird, but I’ll be ready. I have to be ready.”
“And I’ll help you,” Tala said. “You and the other Banders got off to a rocky start, but I know they’ll all fight for you, and fight with you too. But you have to stop acting like you’re the only person fighting the war, and trust the rest of us a little more.” Because I have to make sure you don’t die from this, you idiot.
Alex’s gaze slid toward her, looked away again. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise anyone else that yet.”
The door opened, and Lola Urduja looked in. She was dressed in a resplendent Filipina terno, an intricate blouse made of stiff abaca that rose up around her collarbone and was set against her shoulders like a pair of expensive bookends. She fluttered her fan. “Are you two ready?”
“I’ve barely been out of this room in the last two days!” Alex burst out with a growl, flopping down hard on the bed. “I need this to be over soon.”
“Coronations don’t come every day, Your Highness. I was close to despairing that I would ever see an Avalon king crowned in my lifetime, but you beat the odds. This is an accomplishment, not a burden.”
“And the courtiers and ambassadors who’ve come all the way to pay their respects? Is that how they’ll see it?” Alex glared at the ceiling. “They didn’t give a rat’s ass when Avalon was under ice, and the only reason they’re here to pay lip service is because they’re worried about all those spelltech patents they’ve been lusting after that I can now take back.”
“If it eases your mind, you’re allowed to gloat after the ceremony. They’re all quite afraid of the fir
ebird, from what Chedeng and Baby could glean, and having it on your shoulder will do much to keep the peace. Even so, the Katipuneros shall remain vigilant.”
“Not only that,” Lumina Makiling said, appearing from behind Lola Urduja and clad in a Mai-i dress similar to Tala’s. “It’s all over the news that you and the Bandersnatches had defeated an ice maiden, the Great Mother forbid, and lifted the frost’s curse on your own. They’re just as fearful of what you can do as they are of your fire-breathing charge.”
The firebird sniffed.
Alex laughed. “Lola. Auntie. Thank you. For the year you gave me a home, for all the—”
“There is no need for gratitude, Your Highness,” Lola Urduja interrupted. “I would have been remiss if I hadn’t honored you with our usual Filipino hospitality.”
“Thank you, Lola.” Alex stood and adjusted his cape one last time. He held out his forearm, and the firebird hopped onto it, purring. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Hey, Alex?” Tala asked, keeping her voice low as they followed the two women out, careful not to let them overhear. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to talk about. But I’m glad you told me, and I’m glad you trusted me, for what it’s worth. And thank you for asking. About Dad. We’re not cool yet, and I don’t know if we’ll ever be. But thank you.”
There were so many things she was still hiding. The Nameless Sword, the mirror. She didn’t know where Ryker had gone. But maybe in time, she’d be in a better place to tell Alex. And maybe in time, he’d be in a better place to tell her more too.
The new King of Avalon looked back at her, then gave her hand a slow, steady squeeze. “Anytime. What are best friends for?”
* * *
“It’s going to be a short ceremony,” Tala’s mother said quietly, as they traveled down the long carpeted hallway. “The Duke of Wonderland will be administering it, and he’s not one for long functions, for obvious reasons.”
