SanyareThe Winter Warrior

by Megan Haskell

  She couldn’t move. If she tried to wriggle down, her feathers caught and would be torn right off her wings. But she couldn’t pull them in any tighter. Her feet dangled above the basement floor, her arms scrambling for purchase against the smooth stone.

  The barbegazi watched her with mixed expressions. Some seemed to want to laugh, others to gape. A few younger individuals had come in to join their elders, the room above the basement getting more and more crowded.

  Finally, she gave up, to the chuckling sigh of relief from the barbegazi.

  “Can I help you now?” Vegard asked again.

  “Please.” Judith hesitated a moment longer, glancing back at her wings once more. She grimaced. They were going to have to help her tuck the feathers closer to her body, to give her enough wiggle-room to pull herself the rest of the way out. But a guardian’s wings were intensely personal and touching them was a liberty given to few.

  “If one of you could push my wings closer to my back, I think I can pull myself the rest of the way out.”

  “I’ll do it!” one of the younger males volunteered.

  “I’ll help!” a female replied.

  With broad smiles plastered across their faces, the pair ran around behind Judith. They pressed their hands into the meat of the wing, their touch sending rough waves of pain through the bones of Judith’s back.

  “Ooh, so soft,” the female said, oblivious to Judith’s discomfort.

  As soon as she felt the pressure around the hole diminish, Judith hurried to extricate herself the rest of the way. The youths stumbled back, their gazes rapt, as Judith stood and brushed off her leggings.

  Though she still had to keep her neck bent to avoid pressing her head against the ceiling, she was able to shake out the sore muscles and cramped tendons. She fluffed her wings, and a few feathers fell to the floor.

  The girl gasped. “Are you okay?” she asked, the gentle concern radiating from her figure.

  Judith nodded, and picked up one of the errant plumes. “Yes, I will be fine. Would you like to keep it?”

  The girl nodded, mouth open in awe.

  “Then you may have it. It’s rare for a guardian to drop a feather, so take good care of it.”

  “It’s my most prized possession.” The girl clutched the feather to her chest.

  Judith glanced at the crowd around the room. At least a dozen had gathered, gazes rapt. Obviously, this group had never seen an angel before. Growing self-conscious under their scrutiny, Judith tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

  “So, who is Felman?” Judith asked. “I’m told he’s the person I need to see to enlist the aid of the barbegazi.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JUDITH SAT ON a large floor cushion across from a wizened old man with a long white beard and white wool hat covering the tips of his ears. He sat in a chair, but they still managed to be about the same height.

  He leaned forward, gaze scrutinizing. “So you’re the one who will control my afterlife, eh?” he asked. “Not quite what I expected.”

  Judith sighed, blowing out a breath. “No, sir. I am a counselor in training. Eventually, I hope to work with the souls of children who died in traumatic circumstances, but the way things are going now, I may never graduate to full counselor.”

  “Yes. I hear Apprentice Sanyare circumvented the natural order, to the consternation of the Moirai.”

  “How did you hear that?” Judith would have expected the news to have been kept more secret.

  “I have my ways. But enough of that. I understand our wayward apprentice has gotten herself into trouble, and you and Sanyaro need help extricating her from the mess.”

  “Something like that,” Judith replied. “She’s being kept in Fenrir’s den, under the watch of his entire pack. Or so I’m told. Do you know where it is?”

  “Not anymore.” He rubbed his forehead with one hand. “We haven’t been able to find it since his escape. If only Garamaen had killed the wolf when we’d asked him the first time.”

  “Compassion is not a flaw,” Judith replied. Garamaen was already beating himself up enough, he didn’t need others second guessing his choices behind his back.

  “Blind compassion, without logic, can be as damaging as blind prejudice. It’s taken me a great many years to learn this, and it’s something my father and my father’s father never understood. Perhaps we should have simply taken care of the wolves ourselves, all those many years ago.”

  “Your kind is not without power. Why didn’t you?” Judith asked.

  “Because we are a peaceful people. We did not drive away the elves when they arrived in our world, and now we have been displaced from our native lands. We did not fight the wolves when they began to prey on our people, because the wolves have been a part of this realm at least as long as we have. We did not want to kill Fenrir and his kind. But we were being killed.”

  “So you thought to end your conflict with the wolves by bringing conflict to the elves.”

  “Stability and peace. That is what we wanted. It’s what we’ve always wanted.”

  “Well, your peace and stability are gone. I saw the village of Bjergtopp. I saw what the wolves are doing. How many have you lost by now? And what are you planning to do about it?”

  Judith knew she was challenging an elder, a leader of the entire race of barbegazi, but someone had to snap them out of their stupor. If they didn’t take care of the problem, and soon, their inaction would have its own cost.

  Felman grimaced but sighed. “What would you have of us?”

  “First, I need to get my sword. Then, we gather as many fighters as we can and take the battle to the wolves.”

  And once Judith rescued Rie, they could deal with the dual-souled general.

  A pounding on the front door of the stronghold had every head snapping to attention.

  “Quickly,” Felman rose, his diminutive stature put him at the level with Judith’s head. He grabbed at her arm, pulling her away from the door. “You must hide.”

  “Where?” Judith asked, even as she rose to her feet. “There’s nowhere large enough to hold me, to keep me from prying eyes.”

  “Back to the tunnel.”

  “I barely fit.”

  “There is nowhere else for you to flee. If the frost sidhe know you’re here . . . just go. Now!”

  Already back in the storeroom, Vegard lifted off the trapdoor for Judith while his grandsire pushed her toward the hole. Judith was forced to comply. She slid down until she was on hands and knees, her head and wings tucked in against the ceiling. The barbegazi covered the space, sealing off the light and confining Judith to wait in the soft bioluminescent glow.

  She listened. Steps crossed the threshold. Muffled voices with urgent tones whispered overhead. The door slammed. A shout of surprise.

  Judith debated jumping up to assist if she could, but would that help or make things worse? Should she flee through the tunnels, hoping to find an exit? Or would she just get hopelessly lost? In the end, her indecision was her answer.

  The hatch was thrown open.

  “Come,” Vegard said. “It’s safe.” He didn’t sound happy about that.

  Vegard pointed a hand at the door to the front room, his expression grim as he ushered Judith toward the cushions once more.

  There, sitting with his legs crossed and his hands tucked neatly in his lap, sat Aegasson. Lying on the floor in front of him were a collection of bladed weapons, including Judith’s great sword.

  “What are you doing here?” Judith demanded. And how did he come to possess Judith’s sword? And were those Rie’s khukuri blades with the red handles?

  “Yes, please explain why you’ve come to my home carrying an arsenal of weapons and asking for the angel as if you knew she was here.”

  Aegasson glanced up at Judith, ignoring Felman entirely. “Do you recognize any of these?”

  Felman’s eyes narrowed at the insult to his authority, but he seemed more interested in hearing what Judith had
to say than pursuing the slight.

  “How did you come to possess my sword?” she asked.

  “While you and Eira escaped, I made my way to the armory. I’m glad you were able to find your way here safely.”

  “No thanks to you,” Judith replied. “You said you would help get us out.”

  “I knew you would be fine. The barbegazi have an uncanny ability to move about the city without being seen. But we can talk about that a bit more later, perhaps. You said you needed your sword, and I needed my own weapons as well. When I saw these, I knew they must belong to you. No frost sidhe would carry blades lit with fire and flame.”

  “The flames belong to Apprentice Sanyare, and I’m guessing her consort. Only the great sword belongs to me.”

  “Ah. Should have guessed. Well, here it is for you to claim once more.”

  “Why?” Judith asked. “You could have escaped and gone your own way.”

  “Yes, and so I shall. But the general doesn’t need enchanted weapons at his disposal.” Aegasson turned back to Felman. “And I bring you a trade.”

  Felman raised an eyebrow in a look of disbelief. “What could you have to trade?”

  “Information. In exchange, all I ask is a place to hide and regroup, to gather allies to my cause.”

  “Information?” Felman asked. “What kind of information could you have that we don’t?”

  “Will you agree to the trade?”

  “If your information is sound, then yes, we can find you a place to hide.”

  Aegasson leaned forward. “The frost sidhe have gone up the mountain to capture Garamaen and trade him to the wolves.”

  “What?” Judith demanded. Garamaen was supposed to stay in Bjergtopp and wait for her arrival with the barbegazi allies.

  “They set a trap for him, drawing him to Fenrir’s lair with information about his apprentice.”

  “How? He was alone at the village. How could they have baited him?”

  “A frost sidhe messenger, with the location of Fenrir’s lair. How else?”

  Judith pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “You mean, like you’re doing right now?”

  Aegasson grinned, a crooked quirk of his lips. “I suppose, but I’m not going to take you to Fenrir. I’m going to tell you how to ambush the frost sidhe. Without them, Fenrir will be easy enough to put down, even for the barbegazi. Besides, Judith promised she’d help me defeat General Maethor.”

  Judith’s cheek twitched. “After I achieve my purpose.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, hoping Felman wouldn’t think she had conspired against the barbegazi with Aegasson.

  “And here you are, with the barbegazi. Was that not your purpose?” Aegasson asked with a lifted eyebrow.

  Felman’s eyes narrowed, and he clenched the goat head on his cane. “I gather you won’t assist in the venture.”

  Aegasson’s smile vanished, his eyes growing hard. “I won’t risk my life or the lives of my mages in aid of Sanyaro.” Aegasson’s lip curled. “Or his apprentice. She might be my enemy’s enemy, but that doesn’t make us friends.”

  “Then why give us this information? Unless you’re setting us up for the fall,” Felman said.

  “I swear a solemn oath, I am not intentionally doing the barbegazi harm or leading you astray,” Aegasson replied, holding up his right hand, palm outward. “I’m simply trading information for a safe house. But time is limited. You only have a few turns to be in position or you’ll miss your opportunity. I don’t have time to gather my mages and join you, even if I wanted to. If you want to rescue Apprentice Sanyare you have to go now.”

  “And you’ll be here, waiting to mop up the pieces,” Felman added.

  Aegasson grinned once more, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “If you manage to kill Maethor—and I admit that’s a slim chance—then I’ll be ready to take leadership of the frost sidhe. If you don’t, I’ll be ready to finish the job. Either way, wouldn’t the barbegazi prefer to have an ally in the frost sidhe leadership?”

  Felman lifted his chin. “We will do our part to protect our realm. Our native home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE BARBEGAZI WERE experts at camouflage. Not that Judith had much experience with the technique, but despite knowing exactly where they were, she couldn’t see a single one of them on the side of the mountain. The entire legion of hunters had hidden in plain sight, using the natural contours of the landscape and some careful redirection of snow to blend seamlessly with the scenery.

  She suddenly realized why they all wore white wool, all the time. Though her gear was dull brown leather, made duller by the multiple trips through the tunnels, if anyone looked up they couldn’t help but notice her. She took solace in the fact that these creatures weren’t used to gazing toward the sky. All of the pinnacle predators were on the ground.

  Still, she kept her back to the sun, where the frost sidhe would have a hard time spotting her in the glare.

  Circling high overhead, Judith used the air drafts off the mountain to conserve energy. She’d left the cloak behind, choosing ease of movement and speed over protection from the cold. Luckily, the barbegazi had insisted on wrapping her arms in sleeves of thin wool. She was grateful. Without the extra bit of protection, she would be numb.

  She returned her attention to their future field of battle. If Aegasson’s information was good, the general should be coming down the mountain with his prisoners on a sled at any moment. Judith and the barbegazi waited in the mountain pass, a narrow channel between steep cliffs that had clearly seen the crossing of a large group of men. Rocks and scraggly trees poked up from the terrain, giving Judith’s allies additional cover. It would be a good place to surprise the frozen army.

  Hiding behind the obstructions and buried beneath mounds of snow, the barbegazi would find the perfect moment to explode out of hiding and into the fight. Aegasson claimed this was a standard frost sidhe ambush technique and would work equally well on his own kind as an enemy combatant. They weren’t used to staying vigilant in their own territory.

  Still, it was a risky scheme. Judith didn’t expect Rie or Daenor to be in any shape to fight. If she understood Fenrir’s abilities correctly, the duo would be stripped of their magic and physically injured. So instead of trying to defeat Maethor here and now, Judith’s primary concern was to free Rie and Daenor—and Garamaen if he was also with them, but according to Aegasson’s contact he would have been captured and traded to the wolves—and get them all away from the battle to regroup, heal them if necessary after their ordeal in the caves, then deal with the dual-soul at their own time on their own terms.

  There was a high likelihood that everything would go wrong.

  Judith blew out a deep breath. At least she had saved Bren and rescued Eira from the prison. She’d left them safely ensconced in the barbegazi home, with plans to evacuate the city. Worst case scenario, she could still be proud of that.

  The sled came into view, a large wood structure on wide runners pulled by six white harts, each at least twice the size of the largest of the frost sidhe warriors. Fuzzy horns arched high over each deer’s head, and Judith counted fifteen points on each of the animals. Much like the barbegazi, the deer’s feet seemed proportionally too large for their bodies, their two-pronged hooves covering an area larger than a dinner plate.

  They ran at a full spring, the sled behind them sliding across the ice and snow with ease. A driver sat at the top, gazing out over the heads of his animals, while the general sat behind, bundled up like a disabled old man. Behind him, two soldiers kept watch over Rie and the man who Judith assumed was Daenor, his dark skin and white hair with pale red highlights giving away his identity.

  The two prisoners seemed well enough, if gaunt and tired. But no bruises nor cuts marred their faces that Judith could see. They huddled against one another, their cloaks pulled tight to ward off the cold, but their hoods were thrown back. Judith wondered why, until her eagle-eyed gaze narrowed in on their necks and backs. They’d bee
n bound with a metal collar, their hands tied behind their backs. That could be a problem.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the army kept pace with the sled by sliding down the mountain with polished wood boards strapped to their feet. Moving much faster than anyone could run in this snow, they would have the advantage of speed. But would they be as agile as the barbegazi on their broad feet?

  Fifty lengths. Twenty. The frost sidhe drew closer to Judith’s new allies. The sled moved into range. Past the first hidden barbegazi sentries, past the secondary warriors, into the midst of the mountain pass.

  Arrows sailed into the air from the hidden pockets of barbegazi. The expert marksmen amongst the white clad halflings connected with their targets, at least half a dozen soldiers falling in the snow. Shouts erupted from the ranks of the frost sidhe. Shields formed of solid ice lifted above their heads to block the incoming projectiles. They split up, the wooden rails on their feet turning effortlessly. But unlike the barbegazi, they could only move downhill, not up. Not across. At least not easily.

  The frost sidhe warriors drew their swords, racing as fast as they could toward the archers. The hidden barbegazi warriors exploded from the snow, flanking the frost sidhe. Blades found gaps in armor. Frost sidhe fell. Those that survived rotated backward to face the new threat but continued to slide away from their opponents. The secondary group of barbegazi erupted from their hiding places. More blood flowed.

  Meanwhile, the sled continued its path down the mountain. The driver slapped the reins on the animals’ rumps, shouting for them to run faster. They slid and swerved around bodies living and dead. Barbegazi fighters jumped from a hidden blind in a small stand of ragged trees, no more than a length from the leading deer. The animals veered to the left, sending the sled skidding out to the side. The barbegazi shepherds drove the animals away from the rest of the frost sidhe forces, only a few determined warriors able to keep pace with the sled.