by Tom Hansen
But none of that mattered now. Ynya made a promise to her mother and she was going to do everything she could to get Synol out of here.
Ynya snorted. “No matter, I just needed to eat anyway.”
Both Stefan and Synol relaxed.
Synol waved behind her at a servant who brought her a chair. After sitting down across from Ynya, she gave a strained smile. “Yes. Let us eat together. Just like old times.”
Ynya ate, but the whole time, her mind churned.
Had Mama planned this marriage the whole time? Had she been working on a place for me to go as well? Did she tell Synol about this plan?
Or was there a plan at all? Maybe this was all just coincidence. Maybe none of the plan was from Mama.
The void across the table terrified Ynya, and Synol attempted to fill it with idle chatter.
“Stefan has found me the finest doctor who says the baby is quite healthy. They can already tell, you know.”
“Mmm.” Ynya replied, still lost in thought.
“Yes, and how was your trip in from Kropprfjell? How are things back there to the south? I should like to visit someday, but not until the baby is old enough to travel of course.” She glanced over at her husband who gave a small nod.
“Of course, my lovely bride is going make the most wonderful mother, don’t you think, Ynya?”
Ynya looked up at the question. How dare he mention mothers around me.
The rage under her skin yearned to slap the man. She needed to talk to her sister, and it had to be alone. None of this mindless discussion was going to do anything useful.
“I do think Synol,” both of them flinched at the use of her real name, “will make a wonderful mother, but I have some news about our own mother, you know. There is a reason I came here.”
Chapter Twenty
“Hmm,” Stefan halfheartedly mumbled as he reached for a hunk of cheese. “I should love to hear about it tonight at dinner. My own father will of course be celebrating the arrival of my bride’s sister and the small babe.”
Ynya took another bite from her roll, chewing faster than she should. She felt her blood begin to boil at Stephan’s overprotective nature.
Every little thing he did irritated her now. The way he smiled with only the corners of his mouth. The way he sipped from his cup twice instead of once. The creepy way he glanced at her sister.
Ynya understood him wanting to keep bad news from Synol at this time, but this game they played was beyond frustrating. She just needed to talk to her sister.
She’d heard the stories of how the wealthy danced around topics instead of addressing them head-on, and there was a reason she didn’t like them.
If Synol wanted to marry into a family who played those games, fine, it’s her life, but Ynya’s patience wore thin. She needed to try a new tactic.
“Actually, Stefan, I need to talk to my sister about some…womanly issues.”
Stefan halted his chewing mid bite. Crumbs from his cracker fell back out of his mouth.
“Womanly?” He replied with his mouth full of dry cracker.
Ynya smiled. “Yes, you see I have recently come of age and I need to discuss with my older sister about my mooncycle.”
Stefan coughed, spraying un-chewed cracker across the bowl of fruit in front of him.
“Oh,” he said, still unable to swallow the dry concoction still coating the insides of his mouth, “I should let you two get on with it.”
About time.
She returned her most polite smile as he got up.
Stefan’s chair scraped across the floor and almost toppled, but he caught it at the last second. Moments later, he was out the door and into the hallway.
“When are you going to grow up?” Synol finally interjected. She nodded backwards at the closed door. “Did you have to bring that up in front of him?”
Ynya’s irritation slipped right into that comfortable groove she’d been building up for years with Synol.
“How else was I supposed to get him out of here? Are you on such a short leash that you cannot be with your own sister for even a few minutes without him being here to chaperone you?”
Synol looked like she was going to snap back at her sister, but instead leaned back in her chair and put her hand back to her stomach. “Things have changed, Ynya, and I have bigger things to think about than catching up with my favorite sister.”
Ynya refused to be baited with the favorite part. “Yes, Synol Oblique, things sure have changed and now I have to wonder if you knew about them all along because of how casual you are being right now. You are right. There are bigger things to think about.”
Ynya’s vision was red now, with plenty of energy to fuel her righteous indignation.
“The reason I came here was to tell you that Finny and Meki have been ca–”
The door swung open and Stefan’s form filled the room. “Oh good, things are civil here, but just in case my dear wife needs any assistance, for the baby of course, I have brought her wet-nurse and handmaid, Edith and Lena. I’ve also summoned the doctor to be on standby just in case.”
Synol tilted her head back and nodded to her husband. “Thank you, my dear. You are always looking out for all the little details when my mind is not all here.”
Stefan smiled at his wife, then his eyes flickered over to Ynya for a second before turning from the door.
She could swear that his eyes held nothing but malice for her. Ynya had already stopped mid-sentence when Stefan entered the room again, but she lost all train of thought at those eyes.
Why is he mad at me? Shouldn’t he be happy to see his sister-in-law visiting his wife? What is going on?
“You were saying?” Synol grabbed her cup of water and took a sip.
Ynya glanced to the two terrified nurses standing in the corner. “I…” One was small and petite, while the other was round with a fussy look about her. Both women looked mortified to be in here and Ynya wondered what made them look like they did. Surely, talk of mooncycles shouldn’t bother them.
Synol filled in the vacancy of conversation. “Forgotten already? Now were you here to discuss womanly issues or was that just another excuse to get me into trouble?”
“Me, get you into trouble? I told you dozens of times to just let me go, but you had to stay with me. You just couldn’t let me get in trouble on my own, because you were always looking out for me. Well it’s not my fault you stuck around, it was your decision, not mine.”
“Is that what you think? You think I wanted to get in trouble with Mama? I did it because I was trying to take care of my little sister who refused to go a full day without sticking her nose somewhere it didn’t belong.”
In the back of her mind, a small voice tried to remind Ynya of why she was here. She heard it, but she chose to ignore it for the more pressing insult before her. Sometimes, despite all logic telling you not to engage, the correct answer was the one right in front of you, and she had plenty to deal with from that last comment.
“Well, of course as soon as I need someone in my life, you up and get married to some rich guy to the south. It’s like you couldn’t wait to get away from us. It’s like you just wanted to get away from your family.”
Synol steeled her eyes and quickly glanced at her nurses before back at Ynya. “My family? I have a family, Ynya. I started it when I married my husband, and my love for him does not change my feelings for Mama, Papa, or anyone else.”
She sat back in her chair, tossing her head to the side so Ynya could see her mouth the final words.
“Including you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ynya couldn’t speak. Her mouth refused to move, and her brain stopped working.
All the rage and anger building up under her skin faded in a flash of heat through her eyes.
Of course Synol had to say that. She always talked everything around a topic, without addressing it directly. It should infuriate Ynya, but this time it didn’t.
Synol was right, and she
had gotten under Ynya’s skin.
No, that’s not right.
Ynya had allowed Synol to get under her skin. Ynya had showed up unannounced to her new home, broken in and injured the staff. She had worried her pregnant sister and her new husband.
Then, when my sister and her overprotective husband find out about me, they me some food and water, they make small talk while the staff works in the background to try to reset the house to how it was, and I start mouthing off to my pregnant sister while also forgetting about the whole reason I’d had come here in the first place.
How could I be so stupid?
Smoke, not fire.
Ynya was the one causing problems, and she was the one making it about herself.
Her sisters were the only thing that mattered now.
“Sarah,” she used the name she knew the staff would recognize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come here to talk about old wounds, I came to talk about new ones.”
This got the attention of the two women, who both took a step forward from the corner.
The larger of the two stuck her hand out to interrupt. “I’m afraid Miss–”
Ynya stood, pointing a dangerous finger at the two. “This is too important not to tell, now sit down or I will sit you down.”
They both sat, but remained on the edges of their seats.
Ynya turned to her sister, who had a curious but concerned look on her face.
“Synol, you need to listen to me. Mama and Papa are dead. Men came to the village and burned it the ground. Finny and Meki were taken and I need your help to get them back.”
Synol kept her expression blank as she listened, then replied with a cautious smile. “Are you insane? You come all the way down here to play some silly game with me? Have you not caused enough grief in my life?” She turned to the staff in the corner. “I think I should like to go now, it’s getting a bit too stuffy in this room, and my sister will be heading home now.”
The women stood.
Ynya leapt across the table, standing in front of the doorway.
“No one is leaving this room until you listen to me, Synol. Listen!”
She pulled the burned necklace from under her shirt and thrust it at her sister. “Do you see? That’s Mama’s blood, Synol. Her blood is on this necklace from when she was stabbed in the chest.”
She opened her palm, showing off the ring. “Papa’s ring, from where he died trying to get to Mama, with his axe in his back.”
Synol looked between the two, a mortified expression on her face.
“Ynya, what are you–”
“They are both dead, Synol. That is why I came here to tell you.”
The women in the corner screamed, calling for help.
Ynya glared at them but it was too late now. She had to finish telling her tale. This might be her only chance.
“Mama was raped while Papa bled out, unable to move. I put down her dress myself. She held on for two days waiting for me to come home, Synol. Two days!”
Ynya grabbed Synol’s hands, wrapping them around the necklace.
“She held on after being stabbed and raped, and laid there in the snow the whole time waiting for one of her daughters to come home. She suffered the ultimate indignity just to see me one last time and you know what she asked me to do? Come find you! Her only thoughts were about her daughters and making sure they were safe.”
Ynya took a pleading step toward her sister.
Synol’s entire body trembled.
“Synol,” Ynya lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “She gave it to me, Synol. Her gift. I don’t know what it is yet, but she put her hands on my head and she passed me–”
The door burst open, slamming into Ynya’s side. The surprise entrance knocked her from her sister’s grasp.
But in the doorway was not Stefan, it was the woman in black from the last encampment.
She smiled at Ynya.
Ynya grabbed for the ever-burning flame inside her, but the woman in black was too fast. In a brilliant flash of steel, the woman stabbed Ynya three times; once in her left thigh, one one her right stomach, and once in her left shoulder.
Three fast jabs and Ynya dropped to the floor.
She couldn’t move.
What is this sorcery? Her whole body was numb, like when she had slept on her arm. Her magic receded from her grasp as well, still there, but out of reach.
The woman smiled again and pulled Ynya up onto a chair.
“I’m glad we had a chance to meet once again, Ynya Oblique. I’ve been looking for you for a while now. I was almost beginning to wonder where you had gone.”
She whirled around, her skirt leathers slapping Ynya in the face. “Take her.”
Ynya still couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and couldn’t do anything with her magic.
Synol cried to the side. “Please let her go! She didn’t know what she was doing!”
Stefan showed up and guided his wife out of the room.
On her way out, the woman produced a small pouch of jingling coins. She stopped in front of a man that looked like an older version of Stefan Torkelsen, and dropped the pouch in his outstretched hand. He bowed to her, but she continued to walk down the hallway like she owned the home. Steady, casual, and sure of herself.
Watching the woman walk confidently down the hallway was the impetus Ynya needed to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. She knew what she had been missing this whole time.
The letters calling for all four of the sister’s capture, the fake names on the marriage certificate, the sealed letter from the Frost Queen.
It all made sense. The letter wasn’t to Stefan, it was to the father. The father who owned this house and used the fancy office upstairs.
He’d made a pact with the Frost Queen for his son to marry Synol.
He was the one who betrayed their location.
He was the one who killed her family.
He was the one who had to die.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Soldiers came and dragged Ynya away. She didn’t see Synol or her husband at all, but she did lock eyes with the man of the house, the one carrying the new coin purse.
He was a shrewd man, dangerously thin, and his long pointed nose looked like it had been broken a few times. His angular face had a permanent scowl on it. Even when smiling he looked like a jester all dressed up to look sad.
Ynya memorized every line on his face, every mole, every crease. She would not forget his face.
She would burn that face.
Part of Ynya felt bad for the way she told her sister about their parents. She wondered if Synol believed her or if she would have taken the hint. Ynya hadn’t wanted it to happen like it did, but it was the only way she was able to get the information out. Now she wondered if she should have just blurted it out right when she saw her sister and dealt with the ramifications afterward.
At least then she would have been able to escape before the guards showed up.
After marching her across town, the soldiers threw Ynya into a cell at the city prison.
The iron bars clanged shut. She could only lie there, paralyzed. She heard noises in the room, hushed whispers and scuffs. Humans. At least she wasn’t alone, and the stone floor had some straw on it to cushion her fall.
It took fifteen long minutes until Ynya could move again, but strangely, her powers still didn’t come back. She felt them just in the background, but was unable to pull them forth.
Maybe I’m cursed. Maybe this is going to be my life for now.
She fought to keep the dark thoughts from swirling around her, but all her mistakes swam through her mind like a bad dream.
The worst part was that she was cold. Her blocked magic wasn’t able to keep her body heat up and the cool floor sapped her heat even more. Even swimming in the ocean surrounded by hunks of ice, she’d never felt this cold before!
Ynya turned around, taking in the figures in the dark room.
An older man with a thick beard
and earrings stood from the bench. “Are you all right Miss?”
Ynya nodded, stretching her sore arms. “Where are we?”
“Jail, of course,” a girl from the bench stated. She didn’t bother looking at Ynya, but stared at the ceiling.
“What are they going to do with us?”
The man extended a hand, which Ynya took. “I’m Firtz, nice to meet you.”
“Ynya.”
Firtz continued. “The Frost Queen mandates all mages are to be taken to Reyoarfjell for testing. Any found valuable are pressed into service.”
He spat on the ground to punctuate his point.
Ynya wanted to do the same, but she hadn’t eaten or drunk enough at her sister’s house to be able to afford the moisture.
Her magic stirred, a small portion of it coming forth. She felt the familiar heat just under her skin once again. For a while there, she was beginning to get terribly cold, something she’d rarely experienced before in her life.
“Does anyone know what they are testing for?”
Firtz’s eyes hardened. “No one truly knows. The only thing for sure is that once you go to Reyoarfjell, you never go back home.”
“Fantastic.”
Ynya walked up to the bars, her limbs still stiff from the strange attack with the silver blade. She pulled her dress to the side to look at the wound in her shoulder. A small black mark remained where she’d been punctured, but no blood had seeped out.
Odd.
Her magic was coming back, though in a diminished capacity. Her skin warmed up to bring her now-cool body back up to where she was comfortable.
“What is that weapon they use? The silver dagger.”
The girl spoke up again. “I don’t think they have a name, but they stop you from being able to access your own magic. It’s their best way to control you. Depending on how they hit you, they can turn off your speech, your magic, and your ability to move.”
Ynya snickered, grabbing the cold rusty bars. “Seems I was a triple threat because I got all three.”
“We’re sorry for leaving you on the ground. Touching anyone who has been stabbed can be incredibly painful for us. Only non-mages are able to handle someone who has been hit by those blades.”
