FrostFire

by Zoe Marriott

  The Wolf was going to enjoy this.

  “Put your weapon down like a good girl,” the man – some part of the Wolf knew he was the primary enemy – called from his place above the brook. “It’ll hurt less that way.”

  The Wolf threw back its head and let out a deep, mournful howl. The men advancing on it hesitated, exchanging looks of surprise and doubt.

  The Wolf leaped off the rock to meet them.

  The leap became a flying roundhouse kick that downed the first enemy. A single slice of the axe ended the man’s life. Blood splattered the Wolf’s face and it breathed in the powerful hot-copper smell and growled. Another man charged. The Wolf ducked the blow and jabbed the metal langet of the axe into his belly. The man doubled over, retching. The Wolf took his head, then whipped the axe back to block a sword blow aimed at its neck.

  As the sword skidded off the axe blade the Wolf spun, grabbed the attacker’s sword hand and kicked out at his sternum. There was a loud pop as the man’s arm dislocated from his shoulder. He screamed. The Wolf snapped his wrist with a flex of its hand and kicked again, at his side this time, listening for the snap of breaking ribs.

  The leader of the enemies shouted: “Bows!”

  An arrow whizzed past the Wolf’s head. It ducked again, using its victim’s body as a shield, and the second arrow thudded into the enemy’s chest instead. The Wolf dropped the dead man while he was still twitching.

  The Wolf sensed movement behind it. It fell to one knee, and as the sword pierced the air where it had stood, it wrenched the arrow from the dead enemy’s torso and stabbed the swordsman in the thigh. By the time the man hit the ground, yelling in agony and clutching at his leg, the Wolf was on its feet again. A well-placed kick to the throat finished the yelling.

  Another arrow landed in a tree next to the Wolf. It snarled, then turned and charged directly uphill towards the crossbowman, spinning the axe.

  The bowman backed away, desperately fumbling a fresh bolt into the notch and ratcheting the bowstring – before he could pull the trigger, the Wolf had brought him down. Leaving the axe buried in the man’s chest, the Wolf seized the crossbow. It turned, tracked the path of the second bowman, who was running for his life downhill, and planted an arrow in his skull.

  As the man fell, the Wolf howled again, a cry of triumph. It dropped the crossbow and wrenched its axe free, finally fixing its attention on the primary enemy – the man standing alone at the top of the hill. The man drew his sword and made a beckoning gesture with his hand.

  The Wolf ran to meet its challenger.

  “You’re formidable,” the man said warily, edging backwards. “Wasted in the hill guard. Soft-hearted Luca can’t possibly appreciate you—”

  The Wolf swept the axe up at the man’s head. The blade rebounded from the man’s sword with a deep clang, and the Wolf growled. It turned the recoil of the axe into a spin, ducked under the man’s next blow and aimed the pick at his side.

  Again the enemy wrenched his sword down to block just in time. The axe met the blade with a screech and a shower of metal sparks.

  Then a new voice cried out: “Here they are! Attack.”

  The hidden fragment of consciousness that was still me stirred, recognizing Livia’s voice.

  The Wolf snarled as the clearing filled with more men and women, these in a different uniform. They began to attack the remnants of the first group.

  “Time for me to be going, I think,” the primary enemy said, disengaging his sword and taking a hasty step back. “Men! To me!”

  The Wolf felt the blow coming for its back and whirled. It spun the axe in a massive arc, carving through the new attacker’s chest and pushing him off the axe blade with a powerful kick.

  The Wolf turned again to see the primary enemy fleeing into the woods, his few surviving men right behind him. The Wolf let out an infuriated bark, and turned to face the new people – the ones who had balked it of its desired prey.

  Trapped deep inside, I struggled wildly. Through the Wolf’s silver-painted vision, I could see the hill guards streaming through the trees, faces friendly and relieved. They were sheathing their weapons. They thought the danger was past, their enemy gone.

  Stop, Wolf! Stop!

  “Did you and Arian account for all these, Frost?” Livia called out as she jogged toward the Wolf, looking at the rebels’ bodies strewn between the trees. “To think we were worried about you! Are you all right?”

  “Livia, get away from her!”

  I heard Arian’s warning shout and screamed silently, thrashing and kicking against the cold bonds that held me a prisoner in my own body. No, no, not Livia. No!

  The Wolf lifted its axe and lunged at the grey-haired woman.

  Livia narrowly dodged the blow and jumped back, face clearly showing her shock. “Frost, calm down,” she said in a slow, coaxing voice. “It’s me.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” someone else called out breathlessly. Through the Wolf’s eyes I saw others hurrying towards us, worry darkening their faces.

  “Get back!” Arian shouted. He was struggling up the hill towards us, keeping to his feet by grabbing the trees for balance as he passed. “She’s in a battle rage; she doesn’t recognize you.”

  Livia had backed away a little, turning her head to listen to Arian. The Wolf sensed its enemy’s distraction and ran forward, aiming the axe pick in a vicious arc towards her neck.

  Livia turned just in time to save her life. The slender blade sliced along the side of her shoulder, opening up a long, deep cut. She screamed with agony, stumbled backwards, and fell to her knees. The other hill guards were racing up the slope, yelling.

  NO!

  Suddenly my right arm was my own again. My weak, human fingers tightened around the haft of the axe and I held on with all my might as the Wolf tried to bring the blade down on Livia again. The axe shuddered, jerking up, then back, as I fought against the force that controlled my body. The Wolf’s lips curled over its teeth. It snapped and growled in frustration.

  No. No. No.

  Bright threads were bleeding back into my vision. I stared at Livia, who had slumped onto the ground. Blood – a glowing red that hurt my colour-starved eyes – was streaming through her fingers as she tried to apply pressure to her own wound. She was deathly pale, her breathing shallow.

  My fingers, flushed with human warmth again, were sweating and slippery. The axe haft slid in my grasp. The Wolf’s lips peeled back on a snarl. The rest of the hill guards were nearly upon us now, drawing their weapons as they converged on the friend who had gone mad and attacked one of their own.

  “She can’t help it. Let me through. Get out of the way. Let me through!” Arian was shouting. He was too far away.

  The axe slipped from my fingers. The Wolf’s arm ripped the weapon away and drew it up. Livia cringed back, closing her eyes.

  A streak of gold and blue burst through the trees and hit the Wolf, almost knocking it from its feet. A warm hand closed on the icy fingers that held the axe.

  “Frost. Frost,” Luca whispered, burying his face in the Wolf’s – in my – hair. “I know you’re there. I know you can hear me. It can’t take your soul.”

  The ice that held me shivered. The fingers that clutched at the axe went slack. Gently Luca eased the Wolf’s arm down. “Come back. I know you’re in there. Come back to me.”

  The Wolf growled in disgust … and faded.

  The axe dropped from my hand and landed in the grass. I sagged against Luca. He eased me down, supporting me around the shoulders as I slid bonelessly to the forest floor.

  I shivered, muscles twitching and cramping. But that pain was nothing – nothing – compared to the memory of what the Wolf had done.

  I stared up at Luca, feeling tears well up and trickle down my face. “Livia…” I whispered, voice coming out hoarse and broken.

  “Rani!” Luca snapped the Rua healer’s name, turning his head. “How is she?”

  “She’s losing blood fast,” Rani
said, her soft voice cracking. “Quick, someone give me a belt! I need to make a tourniquet. Keep your hand there!”

  “See,” Luca said. He stroked the tears gently from my cheeks. “Rani is taking care of her. It will be all right.”

  I turned my eyes to the circle of grim-faced hill guards that stood above me. “No. It won’t.”

  Twenty-five

  I stared at the shabby, patched walls of the tent where I’d been sleeping for the past three days. The space was cramped, and the roof leaked when dew formed on it in the mornings. But Luca’s large tent, along with the fine tapestries, rugs and furniture that had once filled it, had all been left behind in the desperate scramble to escape the ambush.

  I wished more than anything that was all we had lost.

  My fingers clenched on the strap of my pack.

  Put it on. Put it on, get up, and walk away. Do it now, before he comes back.

  Do it now, before you end up hurting him too.

  Footsteps sounded outside the tent. Deliberate, heavy footsteps, from a man who never normally made a sound. It was Luca’s way of giving me privacy since there was no screen to hide me any more. Hastily I shoved the pack out of sight under a stool and sat down on it.

  The flap opened and Luca poked his head in. His tired face brightened when he saw that I was dressed and out of my bedroll. The tenderness in his eyes was a punch to my stomach. I hunched over, fixing my gaze on my hands.

  “You’re looking better. How do you feel?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m fine. I’m always fine. How’s Livia?”

  There was a short pause.

  “She’s a little bored. Rani’s practically having to sit on her to make her rest. She wants to be up and doing. I imagine she’ll escape the infirmary by tomorrow.”

  “What about her arm?”

  Another pause.

  “It’s healing.”

  “Will she be able to use it?”

  Luca let out a long sigh. From the corner of my eye, I watched him duck under the flap and come all the way into the tent. The fact that the captain had been hovering in the entrance of what was supposed to be his own living space made me grit my teeth again. He came towards me and dropped down onto the other camping stool before speaking.

  “Rani doesn’t know yet. Livia can move her fingers, which is good. There’s some weakness, which might easily get better.”

  “Or it might not.”

  I remembered Livia’s immense kindness to me, even when I had been a prisoner in a cell. The way she had bared her own painful history to make me feel comfortable here. I remembered her strong, competent fingers picking through herbs, writing notes. I remembered the way her face shone with determination and pride as she worked.

  All gone now, maybe forever. Because of the Wolf. Because of me.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Luca said into the silence. “You have to stop punishing yourself.”

  “Livia may spend the rest of her life suffering for what I did. Some guilt is a light payment compared to that.”

  “She doesn’t blame you. I don’t blame you. No one blames you, except you.” There was a trace of impatience in Luca’s tone now. He had already repeated these words to me many times. I resisted the need to look at him, keeping my gaze down. Every glance at Luca hurt me now.

  “I explained the battle rage to everyone. I told them it was my decision to have you fight despite that. I told them you couldn’t help it. It was my responsibility.”

  “You mean you lied to them. You didn’t tell them about the curse. About the Wolf, and the people I’ve hurt before.”

  “What would have been the point of that? They don’t believe in curses. Neither do I.”

  “They have a right to know how dangerous I am.”

  “They’ve already seen that for themselves. What you want isn’t to give them fair warning, it’s to turn them all against you so that you have an excuse to run away.”

  My head snapped up.

  Luca’s eyes met mine squarely, and I felt shamed heat rushing into my cheeks – the only heat anywhere in my chilled body.

  “I’m not blind, you know,” he said, the hurt clear in his voice. “I can see that pack you’re sitting on.”

  I felt my face crumple. I tried to turn away, but Luca was there, kneeling before me, putting strong arms around me and enveloping me in warmth. His summer, honeysuckle scent made me sigh. “I’m not letting you go,” he whispered, lips against my forehead.

  “This isn’t fair,” I protested weakly. I was already going soft, my whole body trembling with the need to lean into Luca and let him take my weight. Take my burdens.

  The Wolf is my burden.

  I straightened up with a jerk, forcing myself out of Luca’s arms and onto my feet. I turned in a tight circle, pacing backwards and forwards like an animal in a cage.

  Luca rose to his feet.

  I warded him off with one hand. “You can’t fix this. You can’t fix me. No one can. The Wolf is getting stronger. It doesn’t need my blood any more. I could go mad at any time and attack anyone. Including you. I can’t take that risk. Be the captain I know you are and admit you can’t either.”

  “I don’t need you to lecture me on my duty,” Luca said, low and strained. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been dealing with while you’ve been hiding in this tent refusing to see anyone? We lost twenty-two men in the ambush. Twenty-two of our own, dead. There are some in the infirmary who still might not pull through. Hind almost lost her eye. I’m responsible for all of that, and somehow I have to figure out our next move and decide if we have any chance against the rebels now. I need you, Frost. I need you with me, helping me through this. I don’t need you threatening to leave.”

  For the first time I felt I could almost hate Luca. Why couldn’t he ever just give up? I wanted to turn on him, to rage and shout at his stupid, courageous optimism, at his refusal to acknowledge that his grand plans for defeating the Wolf had failed. Now I knew why Arian had flown into a fury at him, that second night I was in camp, when Arian had found me in Luca’s tent. It hadn’t been about me at all. It had been about the fact that Luca had no regard for his own safety, and one day it would get him killed.

  But I couldn’t break. I had to keep those emotions tamped down, pressed into that tight, black ball of despair that lurked under my ribs. I couldn’t afford to lose control now, even for an instant.

  “I can’t help you,” I said, as quietly and calmly as I could. “I can’t help anyone. Not even myself.”

  “Why?” Luca demanded. “I understand if you don’t feel you can fight any more, but that doesn’t mean you have to abandon us. You’re still one of us, aren’t you? You said yourself this isn’t forever, that one day we’ll succeed in capturing Ion and have the rest of our lives ahead of us. Don’t you believe that any more?”

  My neck and shoulders, all the bones in my head, were aching with tension – with the effort it took to resist Luca’s words. “I care for you, Luca. More than for anyone I’ve ever met in my life. I would do anything for you. I’d die for you.”

  Surprise, happiness and confusion passed across Luca’s face like clouds moving over the sun. He reached out for me.

  I backed away. “That’s why I have to go. Here, with you, I’ve changed. My emotions are like water pushing against a dam. The moment I give into them, I open the door to the Wolf again. I can’t stay with you. Not without putting you and everyone else here in danger.”

  The happiness died out of Luca’s face, leaving it weary and drawn. “Where are you going to go, Frost? Where can you possibly run to be safe from yourself? If you don’t face this now, you will spend the rest of your life running. Too scared to fight. Too scared to love. You’ll be your own prisoner. And you’ll never be free.”

  The words rang through my bones with the awful weight of a prophesy. I stared at him in despair.

  A familiar voice broke into the tense silence, singing the first lines of one of the traditional M
other’s Fire songs.

  Arian.

  “They must have given up on me.” Luca sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “I came to fetch you. We’re having a gathering at the firepit to honour the fallen. Will you come? Please?”

  Other voices were joining Arian’s now, and instruments. Just like the first time I had heard it, I was drawn to the music. But it wasn’t for me. It never had been. I shook my head. “They won’t want me there.”

  “I want you there.” Luca held out his hand, the lines of sorrow on his face making him look years older.

  My fingers twitched, hand yearning to reach out to him. I lifted it – and closed it around my wolf tooth. The sharp tip dug deeply into my palm. I welcomed the pain.

  We both stared at his still extended hand. Slowly his fingers curled into a fist and dropped.

  “You can’t always have what you want,” I said.

  “No. But you can hold onto what you have,” he said softly. “Don’t try to leave while I’m gone, because I will come after you. We haven’t finished yet.”

  I nodded shortly.

  “Say it.”

  I ground my teeth together, trapped. “I promise.”

  “That’s good enough for me.” He gave me a tight, unhappy smile, a mere echo of his normal golden grin, and left the tent.

  I let out a shuddering breath. Damn him. Now I was trapped here for another night at least. Trapped where no one wanted me to be, not even myself. No one except Luca.

  Arian’s voice echoed through the thin canvas walls, mingling with the mournful wood pipe, the slow beat of the drum. I even thought I could hear the crackling and whispering of the flames, though that should have been impossible. The sound called to me, beckoned to me. But I knew what I would see if I gave in. Friends’ eyes, full of hatred and distrust. Beloved faces, turned into masks of loathing. My own comrades flinching away from me.

  I would not see family. I would see my own exile.