NEW VISIONS
Kai paces back and forth in front of the windows of the Great Hall. “There are only a few pieces left. Why is this so difficult?” His voice is raspy with exhaustion.
“The mirror appears to be resisting us.” I give a shard a miniscule turn to fit it to the finished edge of the glass, but the fragment vibrates in my hand. When I release my grip it skitters to the opposite side of the frame. “Damn it.” I allow my forearms to drop to the surface of the table and lay my head on my clasped hands. Pain throbs in my right temple. Neither Kai nor I have slept much in the last few days.
Luki’s sharp bark pierces the quiet. Raising my head I watch the wolf stand amid the pile of furs that form his bed. As I follow his gaze a bird wings its way into the chamber. It’s the falcon I sent to Sephia. Somehow it has entered the palace and navigated the corridors to locate this room. That can only mean one thing—Sephia’s sent a reply.
Straightening, I step away from the mirror and hold out my arm. The bird ignores me, spiraling up to the rafters.
“Is that your messenger falcon?” Kai crosses to me and gazes up at the bird.
“Yes. I suppose my acquaintance ordered it to return home.” I lift my arm a little higher and whistle. The falcon tips its head to the side and stares at me with its brilliant, unblinking eyes.
“How did it get inside?” Kai moves closer to me.
As his arm brushes mine I feel that strange, fluttering sensation that I felt while huddled with him in the cave. I take a few steps away. “I don’t know. It must have been put under enough of an enchantment to seek me out.”
The falcon eyes both of us for a moment before diving straight toward Kai. The boy flings one arm over his face as the bird circles him once and lands on his shoulder.
I approach Kai with one arm crooked in front of me. Staring at the falcon I send it a silent command, urging it to fly to my arm. It ignores me.
“I think it might be carrying a message.” Kai tentatively touches the cylinder on the bird’s leg. “See, there’s a bit of paper poking out.”
I fume inwardly. Having Kai see Sephia’s message, whatever it is, does not appeal to my sense of control. “You stand still. I’ll retrieve the message.”
“No, I can get it.” Kai’s fingers work the lid off the cylinder. After he pulls out a rolled piece of paper and replaces the lid the falcon soars from his shoulder and perches on a rafter.
Kai unrolls the small scroll. I notice that the paper is bordered in black. As Kai reads the message his face blanches white as the snowy landscape framed by the windows.
“What is it?” I cross to him, holding out my hand. “Whatever does it say?”
Kai crumples to the floor as fluidly as water. He drops the paper and buries his face in his hands.
“What’s the matter?” I kneel in front of him. Luki whimpers and pads over to us.
“My fault.” Kai speaks in a broken whisper. “All my fault.”
Luki nuzzles at the back of Kai’s neck while I pick up the piece of rolled paper and read its contents.
It’s a death notice. Kai’s father has finally succumbed to his injuries.
This does not touch me…
Staring at the notice, I focus my thoughts on the effort required for Sephia to obtain a copy to send to Kai. Because, of course, she did not whisper enchanted words to wing the falcon to me. Still fighting to prevent Voss from obtaining immortality, she meant this message for the boy helping me reconstruct the mirror.
“I’m so sorry, Kai,” I say, placing my hands on his hunched shoulders.
Kai makes a choking sound and leans forward until his head’s resting on my breast. I stay very still as he begins to weep in earnest. The sobs shake his whole body. I slide my hands around to his back, until I’m holding him in a close embrace. After a few moments I lift one hand to smooth down the strands of his silky dark hair tickling my nose.
“It isn’t your fault, Kai. It was a freak storm. You couldn’t predict it, or that your father would search for you. You can’t blame yourself.” The warmth of Kai’s body pressed into mine is affecting me in a way I find alarming. A strange heat rises up the back of my neck. I worry that Kai will sense how wildly my heart is beating.
“If I’d followed his instructions, Gerda and I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the mill, much less lost in that storm.” Kai lifts his head and sits back without dislodging my hands. “I disobeyed him because I wanted more. That’s me—always wanting more, no matter who it hurts.” He wipes his wet face on his sleeve before looking at me. “I’m sorry, Thyra. Didn’t mean to fall all over you.”
“It’s all right.” I drop my arms to my sides.
Kai stares intently into my eyes. “Rather childish of me, I know. Weeping like a baby.” He raises one hand and traces the line of my jaw from my ear to my chin. “Thank you for not pulling away.”
“It seemed you needed something to lean on,” I say lightly, my skin tingling under his caress. I fight the urge to take him back in my arms, to conjure away the misery I see in his dark eyes.
“All that work for nothing.” Kai waves his hand in the direction of the mirror.
“It does help me,” I say, but Kai’s not really listening.
He rises stiffly to his feet and wanders to the windows. “Maybe if I’d worked a little faster, with more concentration …”
“No one could’ve worked harder than you.” I cross to him, Luki at my heels.
Kai’s back is to me as he stares out at the frozen landscape. “I failed him. I had the power to save his life, and I couldn’t do it.” He grips the window frame with both hands and presses his forehead against the center pane. “I wish these windows would open.”
I move closer and lightly place my fingers on his shoulder. “You don’t mean that. Life isn’t something to toss aside so carelessly.”
Kai bangs his head against the thick glass. “I do. I do mean it.” Desperation cracks his voice but our windows can’t be shattered by human hands.
Luki presses his head against Kai but is thrust away by one swing of Kai’s leg. The wolf whimpers and slinks off a few paces.
This is serious. Kai wouldn’t kick an animal unless his mind was clouded with despair. I tighten my fingers on his shoulder blade and lay my head against the curve of his back. “It’s not your fault, it isn’t, Kai.”
“If only we could’ve completed the mirror sooner.”
It feels natural to stand like this, so close together. I can almost believe that I’m entirely human, a girl with a future. I treasure the sensation—the rapid rise and fall of Kai’s breathing beneath my temple. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” I say, foolishly allowing my mouth to frame my racing thoughts.
Kai wheels about, knocking me backward. I fall onto the stone floor with a thud. Luki rushes to my side and crouches before me, growling ominously. I touch his bent neck and lean in to whisper a command in his folded-back ear. The wolf turns his head to gaze at me. I know his instinct to protect me is vying with my order. I lay my hand on his silver head and Luki expels a gusty sigh before rising and loping out of the room.
After Luki disappears into the hall Kai strides forward and looms over me, his hands tightened into fists. “What do you mean, it wouldn’t have mattered?”
I straighten, rubbing my hip. “There was no guarantee that the mirror would save your father.” Thinking furiously, I wonder if my face is betraying my lie.
“I don’t think that’s what you meant.” Kai’s eyes are as fathomless as crevices in a glacier.
So it’s true. I can no longer school my expressions around Kai. I rise stiffly to my feet. Kai makes no move to aid me. “Of course that’s what I meant.” I face him, planting my feet slightly apart to aid my balance.
“It isn’t. I can see the lie in your eyes.” Kai grabs one of my wrists and yanks me forward. “Tell me the truth, Thyra. Tell me now.” His fingers squeeze my bones.
I
lift my chin. I won’t look away, no matter how fierce his gaze. I can face down Kai Thorsen. I won’t be intimidated by him, or anyone. I’ve been trained by masters. “Very well, I’ll tell you.” Even though I could hurl Kai across the room, I don’t call upon my magic. This trial I must endure as a mortal.
Kai pulls me so close that his face is inches from mine. “Speak the truth,” he commands.
I take a deep breath and toss back the weighty mass of my curls. “The mirror may do many things, but all I know for certain is that it can grant Voss eternal life. Its other powers are hidden from me. So when I told you that it could restore your father to health …”
“You lied.” Kai sounds as inhuman as the wraiths.
“Yes, I lied to you. It’s unlikely that the mirror could’ve done anything to aid your father. I told you a lie, and continued lying, because I so desperately needed your help.”
“And that’s all that mattered to you, isn’t it, Thyra? Yourself.” He stares at me, his eyes filling with tears.
That’s strange. I expect anger, not sorrow, from him. “I must take care of myself. If I don’t, who will? You don’t understand.”
Kai releases my wrist and steps back several paces, his gaze still fixed on my face. “No, I don’t. I don’t understand how we could work together so long, share so much, and you had no problem lying to me the entire time.”
“Kai, I was brought to this frozen prison against my will. Turned into the Snow Queen without my permission. Placed under a dreadful curse to satisfy the needs of an ancient, evil, mage who cares no more for me than for the ice that lines the palace walls. I had no choice, no options. If I wanted to live, I had to take care of myself. There was no one else here, ever, except for Voss.” Taking a breath to steady my voice, I fix Kai with my iciest glare. “I’ve done whatever was necessary, whatever it took to survive. And I’d do it all again, to avoid becoming a wraith. I’d rather die than live forever as one of those mindless things.”
Kai examines me as if contemplating an unsolvable riddle. “You could’ve asked me for help. Told me the truth and asked for my aid.”
“You would have refused.”
“How do you know? You never asked.” Kai turns away and strides to the table. “I could smash it.” He glances at me, his brown eyes unreadable. “Take the mallet and shatter it again. Why not? It’s no good to me anymore.”
“Don’t!” I conjure a cold wind that blasts Kai against the window wall.
Kai stays seated, his back pressed against the wall. “I know you can kill me whenever you wish, Snow Queen. Go ahead. But you needn’t worry. I’ll not touch your precious mirror. My father’s dead and you’ve betrayed me.” He buries his face in his hands. “What does it matter now? What does anything matter?”
I watch him for some time as he weeps soundlessly, his shoulders shaking. He doesn’t look up when I walk out of the room.
Luki’s waiting for me in the hall, just outside the doors. I give him a pat before I head for my chambers, flaring the light in the walls so that a cluster of wraiths falls back, shrieking, into a darkened side-corridor. As my soft boots slap against the stone floor I wonder if Sephia has bested me. Logic tells me that Kai will flee the palace as soon as possible, abandoning me to my fate. Even if I imprison him, I can’t force him to work on the mirror. I shake my head. These thoughts are foolish. They don’t touch me. Let them fade. Let it go.
Pausing before the door to my rooms I clear my mind and evaluate the situation. I suspect Kai’s slipping into the despair that afflicted him in the village. If by some miracle he agrees to continue his work on the mirror, he’ll need love and support to retain the full use of his mind. After several minutes of cold, hard consideration I conclude that I can’t be the one to comfort him. He no longer trusts me, and anyway, what do I know about such things? Luki thrusts his head under my hand and I stroke him absently as I consider my options. There’s only one person who may be able to help Kai and, by extension, me. His shadow, his friend—Gerda.
I lift my chin and set off toward the girl’s chamber.
***
Gerda cries silently as I lead her to the Great Hall. Given the closeness of the two families I suppose she’s as heartbroken as Kai. But I can’t dwell on such thoughts. I need Gerda to comfort Kai, to prevent him from sinking into mind-numbing despair.
“Please keep up,” I tell her. Luki trots in front of us, his tail swinging from side to side.
“Sorry,” Gerda snivels. “My legs aren’t as long as yours.”
I gaze down at her. She was sleeping when I pulled her from her room. Her loose hair still bears the crimp from tight braids. “You do want to help Kai, don’t you?”
Gerda casts me a furtive glance. “Of course.” Her face is streaked with tears and the whites of her eyes are tinged pink. She isn’t too lovely at this moment but I know Kai won’t care.
Lost in thought, I forget to illuminate the hall far enough ahead. A wave of wraiths rolls forward, washing over us. Gerda screams and beats wildly at the amorphous figures.
“The last piece,” they wail. “I will place it. Give it to me.” They descend upon Gerda, pressing their hideous faces against her body and threading their smoke-like fingers through her golden hair.
“Get out of our way!” I shout, calling forth a flood of light as Luki crouches and growls, snapping at the air.
Gerda drops to the floor and curls up in a ball, her arms covering her head. She rocks back and forth, whimpering softly.
“To the darkness with you!” I draw a circle of cold fire with my hands, enclosing the spot where I stand and Gerda cowers. The wraiths shriek and groan as they drift away, leaving only curling trails of mist.
The sounds pouring from Gerda’s throat I’ve only heard before from injured animals. I bend down and place my hands under the girl’s armpits and yank her to her feet. She falls against me, trembling like a cornered rabbit.
I hold her upright and let her sob for a moment before I give her a firm shake. “It’s all right now. They’re gone.”
Gerda gazes up at me, her blue eyes wide. Tears tremble on the tips of her lashes. “What are those things?”
“Those are the wraiths. They have no power to harm you, despite their fearful appearance.” I rummage in my pocket and pull out a handkerchief. “Now, wipe your face. You don’t want Kai to see you looking like this.”
“Wraiths?” Gerda hiccups a few times before she stills her shaking hands and dries her eyes. “That’s what you’ll become, if the mirror isn’t completed by your birthday?”
“Yes,” I reply shortly. I lean in and brush Gerda’s tangled hair away from her face. “Pull yourself together. We’ll see Kai soon.”
Gerda doesn’t take her eyes off me as she adjusts her laced bodice and tugs down her woolen skirt. “No wonder,” she says softly. “No wonder you’d do anything to avoid that fate.”
There’s something in those gentle eyes that makes me clench my hands. Something that I remember from long ago, from a time before my parents died. I whirl about and stride down the corridor. “Come along,” I call over my shoulder. “Keep pace with me if you don’t wish to encounter those creatures again.”
Gerda trots to keep up with me, her heavy boots clattering on the stone floor. Luki views this as a game and runs about in circles, just managing to keep enough distance to avoid tripping us. When we reach the doors to the Great Hall I hold up my hand to stop Gerda in her tracks. The exertion has brought some color back into her pale cheeks, making her resemble more closely the girl I remember from the village.
“Kai’s inside.” As I open the doors Luki scoots under my arm to dash into the cavernous chamber. I motion for Gerda to walk into the room ahead of me.
She’s hesitant until she spies Kai sitting under the windows, his back pressed against the wall. Running to his side, she sinks to the floor next to him and immediately clasps his hands in hers.
“Gerda.” He star
es blankly at her, his eyes dull as charcoal.
I linger at the doors. Luki approaches Kai, wagging his tail slowly. Kai frees one of his hands from Gerda’s grasp. “Sorry, old boy,” I hear Kai say as he pets the wolf.
Luki drops his head onto one of Kai’s legs. His tail thumps against the floor. I marvel at the speed at which the animal has forgiven Kai. If only humans possessed that ability.
Kai obviously does not. He glares at me over Gerda’s golden head. “Don’t you have a storm to conjure somewhere, Snow Queen?” His tone’s sharp and cold as an icicle.
“Kai, I know you’re hurting, but please be kind.” Gerda places her arm about his shoulders and snuggles into his side. “Thyra has a lot to deal with, you know.” The girl casts me an encouraging glance. “Those terrible wraiths.”
“She belongs with them,” replies Kai roughly. His dark eyes rake over my face. “She lied to me, Gerda. To keep me here, away from my family. Away from you.” He cups Gerda’s chin in his free hand and lifts her head until she’s gazing into his eyes. “She lied about the mirror. It can’t restore health to anyone, or at least she doesn’t know if it can. She only told me that to trap me here as her slave.”
“You were never a slave.” I stride forward until I’m standing a few feet away from the young couple. “You weren’t locked up. You were never forced into anything. You said yourself that you did what you did of your own free will.”
“Based on a lie.” Kai strokes Gerda’s cheek before gazing up at me. “You manipulated me. Used me.”
“As you used me, to achieve your ends.” I clasp my hands before me to halt their shaking. “Did it matter to you at all that I was fighting for my sanity, my soul? Or was it only thoughts of your father that kept you working day and night? You aided me for his sake, and your own.”
“A noble goal, at least.” Kai straightens, dislodging Gerda’s arm. She prevents herself from tumbling over by pressing her hand against the wall.
“Is it?” Something tugs at my thoughts, telling me to abandon this thread of conversation, but I ignore the warning. “I believe you’re lying to me, Kai Thorsen. Of course you wanted to restore your father to health, but I suspect that wasn’t the only thing driving you.”
Crown Of Ice Page 18
