New Title 1

by K. M. Shea

  Farrin’s voice was soft. “Have I sufficiently satisfied your curiosity, Your Highness?”

  “No.” Rakel knit her hands together. “If you know I will destroy it, why tell me? Your leaders are seeking it—and we have already established that you respect Tenebris in spite of his horrible actions.”

  “Sometimes, it is best if the people you respect—even the people you follow—do not face temptations they may be unable to overcome.” He looked beyond Rakel, at her ice dam, and in that moment, Rakel felt sorry for him.

  He’s hoping the mirror is just that, a temptation. He has not yet accepted that Tenebris is evil. I imagine it would be very hard to watch someone you respect become dark…

  “I understand,” Rakel said, even though she was not referring to the same thing.

  Farrin returned his gaze to her and smiled with his eyes. “You return to Ostfold today?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. He was quiet for several heartbeats and pressed his lips together. “When you search for the mirror…check for paths around Ensom Peak that lead north into the mountains.”

  Rakel blinked. “Ensom?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. Thank you.”

  Farrin’s lips took on a sad curve. “Of course.”

  Rakel hesitated, unsure what to say. She wanted to tell him he should turn against Tenebris, that he should free himself as the activities of his leaders obviously unsettled him. But…she remembered that he was like a storybook knight. He won’t leave for his own sake. He is too loyal. I wish I could tell him he is being an idiot.

  She opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words.

  Farrin seemed to sense this. He took a step closer and grazed his gloved hand across her cheek. “Take care.” He was gone before she could respond, tapping his speed magic and disappearing with only a breeze to mark his exit.

  “Something must be done about him,” Rakel said. Her throat was dry and uncomfortable. But I don’t know what. How could I recruit him? I don’t return his feelings; inviting him would be just as false as Tenebris.

  Phile popped up from behind a snowdrift. “So did you wrangle more information out of him?”

  “You knew he was here?” Rakel asked.

  “I suspected. It was blasted hard to keep Halvor from following you. I managed as long as I did only because a resistance fighter came looking for him with an organizational question. King’s toes, that man delights too much in military structure. So, what information did you get?”

  “I need to look at the maps in the royal library for a mountain path.”

  Phile casually tossed Foedus back and forth between her hands. “Why? You and Oskar spent days brooding over books and maps already.”

  “I know our entrance point.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Ensom Peak.”

  “Steinar?” Rakel rapped her knuckles on his large, ornate door. The hall was as silent as a graveyard, and the room behind the door was like a tomb. “It’s me…Rakel.”

  Nothing stirred—not even a valet or attendant to shoo her away.

  It had been this way since Rakel and the army had freed Ostfold. Occasionally Steinar—King of Verglas and Rakel’s little brother—wandered the palace. But he avoided General Halvor and any of the military officers, and he usually fled from Rakel.

  If someone approached his room, a servant explained that the king was feeling poorly. Rakel seemed to be the only one Steinar did not bother pretending with.

  He’s afraid—of me, of retaliation…but I’ve already told him I don’t want the throne.

  Rakel cleared her throat. “I wanted to inform you that I’m going with a small task force to search for the mirror described in the report General Halvor gave you shortly after our arrival. Unless…do you have alternative orders?”

  Silence choked the air.

  Defeated, Rakel rested her forehead against the door. What do I say to him? I’m used to fearing for my life, not reassuring people of goodwill! “Verglas…Verglas needs its king, Steinar.” She jerked back from the door when she realized some of it had started to frost over under her unconscious use of magic. “We’re muddling through, but the people need someone to follow.”

  She hesitated, unsure how to voice what was in her heart. “I also need my king. I don’t have the knowledge, or the desire…”

  What could convince him to rally? If I encourage him in the manner Phile commonly encourages me, he may take it as a threat.

  “I’m sorry,” Rakel said, not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry I was born with magic. Please…forgive me?”

  Rakel shut her eyes and hoped…but there was not a sound nor a movement. She sighed, regretfully traced a hand across the door’s surface, and left the hall.

  She straightened the vest of her light blue Bunad and fixed the fall of her cloak. She was going home—or close to it, anyway.

  When Rakel left the hallway and made her way through the maze of the severely damaged palace—she still carried a map in case she got lost—she made her way to the west side, leaving the building for the cold winds gusting across the massive iceberg that jutted close to the palace.

  Phile was there, as were the rest of the members of their search party. “No luck?”

  Rakel shook her head. “I thought he was more open to me after the gardens, but…”

  “Give him time,” Phile suggested. “It may not be you he is struggling with.”

  “What do you mean?” Rakel asked.

  “Guilt is a heavy burden, Little Wolf,” Phile said.

  Rakel was a little confused by the pearl of wisdom, but she was distracted when she saw Crow—the Chosen mercenary—perched on a mountain pony parked in the center of the magic users that would be going with Rakel, Oskar, General Halvor, and Phile. “Crow? Why is he coming with?”

  “General Halvor thinks he might be useful.” Phile tightened her saddle’s girth. “During his questioning, he said he and some of the other mercenaries were sent to scout around Ensom Peak.”

  Rakel frowned. “Farrin said the raiders weren’t his men.”

  “They weren’t. Crow said he reported to Colonel Kavon—an illusionist.”

  “But Farrin was in charge of taking northern Verglas. He would have known if other troops marched through his territory,” Rakel said.

  “That’s the interesting part—Kavon had Crow and the others do this on the sly. They scouted out Ensom while Farrin and his boys were laying siege to Ostfold and the palace.” Phile vaulted onto the back of her horse and patted the surefooted creature’s neck.

  “And they didn’t go up the peak?”

  “They weren’t searching for you, if that’s what you’re thinking. He said they were told to hunt for a mountain path.”

  “They didn’t find it?”

  “They did, but it was snowed out and impassable.”

  “I see. So this Colonel Kavon was trying to hide his actions,” Rakel said.

  “Yep.”

  “Interesting.” Rakel edged farther into the scouting party, passing several loaded sleds and more mountain ponies. She found Frigid waiting for her at the far side of the group, eating a flake of hay.

  “Are you certain you want to ride him, Princess? There’s plenty of room in one of the sleighs for you.” Oskar furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the reindeer.

  “Perhaps I will switch to a sleigh eventually, but for now I wish to ride,” Rakel said.

  “As you wish,” Oskar said. He found a footstool and placed it next to the reindeer, giving Rakel a boost onto its bony back.

  “Princess.” General Halvor bowed after he approached her. “Our plan remains the same. We will ride across the iceberg and move west, towards Ensom. We have enough supplies to last us two weeks.”

  “Excellent. Thank you, General Halvor.”

  General Halvor bowed again. “King Steinar…?”

  Rakel shook her head. Glancing back and forth between her attendant and longtime captain
of her guards, she said, “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Patience, Princess.” Oskar smiled sadly. “It’s all we can do.”

  “Before the invasion, King Steinar was competent and strong. I am certain he will return to his duties one day,” General Halvor said.

  Some of Rakel’s tension eased at his words. “Thank you.”

  General Halvor bowed. “With your arrival, we should move on, Princess.”

  “Of course,” Rakel agreed.

  Oskar groaned, “I always feel like an idiot when I ride a pony. My legs practically scrape the ground.” He sighed, but resignedly mounted up a sturdy gray pony that was almost as tall as a horse.

  Phile batted her eyelashes at him. “You could ride my horse, Oskar.”

  “The one you stole from the Chosen Army?” Rakel asked.

  “We could ride double,” Phile continued.

  Oskar laughed. “While your generosity warms my heart, I’m afraid I must refuse. Ponies are the best animal for the terrain we will cover. Well—they’re the best after reindeer.” He winked at Rakel, drawing a smile from her. “Though it is very convenient that we can travel directly west. If the iceberg weren’t here, the gorge would be impassable—good for defending, not so good for speedy travel.”

  “I was thinking of melting the iceberg when summer comes,” Rakel said.

  “Wouldn’t that flood the palace with water?” Phile asked.

  “No, it would fill the gorge, though.”

  “And re-fortify the west side of the palace. I see what you are thinking, Princess. A well thought plan,” Oskar said.

  “Thank you. Though I believe the water would be too cold for anything to live in it.”

  “That makes it an even better border guard,” Oskar said. “Is something wrong, Phile?”

  Phile squinted and pointed to the capital. “There’s a bunch of folk gathering on the border of Ostfold.”

  Rakel turned Frigid and shielded her eyes. Several dozen commoners gathered at the edge of the city. Rakel could hear their cheers, and they waved something above their heads. “Is that a flag the closest villager is waving?”

  Phile crowed with laughter. “It is—it’s your flag! They’ve come to see you off, Snow Queen!”

  Rakel was prepared to scoff, but she fell silent when the breeze made the flag flap, and she caught sight of the familiar white snowflake and ash gray reindeer on a blue field.

  “Snow Queen!”

  “Go ahead, acknowledge them,” Oskar said.

  “They think too highly of me,” Rakel said.

  “With your brother hiding, they need someone they can believe in,” Oskar said.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Rakel said. But it would feel rude to ignore them…as if I thought they were beneath my notice. She hesitated, then raised her hand and waved.

  The cheering grew louder.

  Embarrassed, Rakel turned Frigid away. “Are we ready to leave, yet?”

  Oskar grinned. “Just about.”

  Phile watched Rakel like a curious bird.

  “What is it?” Rakel asked.

  “Nothing.” The Robber Maiden smiled. “Come on, let’s go find Snorri.”

  “You wish for Snorri? When Oskar stands in front of you, available to pine after?” Rakel asked.

  Oskar laughed, but it was an uncomfortable sound. “Princess.”

  “I do love to ogle Oskar, but Snorri is guarding Crow.”

  “I see,” Rakel said with pricked curiosity. “Very well, let us find Snorri.”

  Phile laughed. “I do love your curious mind, Little Wolf. Come!”

  CHAPTER 4

  THE MIRROR

  The party traveled west—skirting Ensom Peak—until Crow found the tiny, drift-riddled path that led into the mountain range. When they passed her previous home, Rakel caught a glimpse of her ice-castle. The sight filled her with both joy that she was no longer forced to stay there…and a little bit of homesickness. She had poured so much effort and passion into her castle, the magic locked in its walls reached for her.

  Under Crow’s direction, the group followed the path as it turned north and traveled through the vast, unnamed mountains that stretched across the northern border of Verglas. The path was steep and difficult, but not as dangerous or impossible as it would have been without Rakel there to clear the road, hold back the snow, raise the temperature of the air, and—when necessary—forge thick slabs of ice that spanned deep valleys and gorges.

  They had been in the range for just short of a week when Snorri was able to pick up the trail of the mirror.

  “Here.” He stared down a small crack of a path that squeezed between two mountains.

  Oskar furrowed his forehead with worry. “How do you know?”

  Snorri held up the mirror shard—which Rakel had handed over at the beginning of their journey. “It has the same aura.”

  “How close is it?” Rakel asked, fascinated. Looking at the mirror shard made her uneasy, but she couldn’t detect even the faintest whiff of magic that wasn’t hers.

  Snorri tilted his head, thinking. “We will find it today.”

  General Halvor dismounted. “We’ll have to leave the ponies and the bulk of the supplies here. A small party will remain with the animals—and Crow.”

  “You don’t mean to let me join you? That’s harsh, that is.” Although the words sounded like a complaint, Crow shivered and remained happily perched on his pony as he watched birds fly overhead.

  “Shouldn’t everyone go together?” Oskar asked.

  “We cannot allow an enemy soldier to learn the location of the mirror,” General Halvor said.

  Phile raised her hand. “I thought the point of this expedition was to destroy it.”

  “It is,” General Halvor said.

  Oskar glanced at the sleighs. “It would be wise to have a soldier or two remain with the supplies, but I would rather have Crow where we can keep an eye on him.”

  “Must you?” Crow asked through chattering teeth.

  General Halvor raised his eyebrow. “You have alternate plans?”

  “No. I just imagine wherever this cursed mirror is, it will be even colder.”

  General Halvor rubbed his stubbly chin.

  “We could always kill him to hide the mirror’s location,” Oskar said.

  “What?” Crow yelped.

  “Oscar!” Rakel frowned.

  “It is an option, Princess. If this mirror is as powerful as Colonel Graydim claims, it will be dangerous if any word of it gets out,” Oskar said.

  “It won’t matter because Phile is right. We’re going to destroy it,” Rakel said. She slid off Frigid’s back and patted him.

  “Let’s just bring Crow,” Phile said. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about—and with my sterling character, I am a perfect judge.”

  “Where did you get your dagger again?” Frodi—who held a tiny ball of flames in his hands to keep warm—asked cheekily.

  “Foedus appeared to me in a dream and said he would come only to those who are judged worthy,” Phile said.

  Crow frowned. “Last night you said you found it in an empty tomb.”

  “Quite right,” Phile said.

  “We could blindfold him,” General Halvor supposed.

  “I could tie him to a cliff,” Eydìs offered.

  “Enough,” Rakel said. “We’re wasting time. I want to find that mirror and destroy it.”

  General Halvor and Oskar bowed. “Yes, Princess.”

  The animals were untacked, a base camp was established, and then the group finally followed Snorri into the narrow path. Several times the path grew so tight, tall Oskar and burly Halvor—among others—had a hard time slipping through.

  “Ow—what are you battering me with? That ugly dagger of yours?” Crow cawed as Phile used a foot to push against him, trying to force him through one of the narrow spots.

  Oskar grunted. “She would not have to push if you didn’t wear enough padding to be
mistaken for a snow bear.” He yanked on the mercenary by the lapels of his outermost jacket.

  “I have a bit of sympathy. It’s colder than a king’s soul here.” Phile grunted as she applied her shoulder to Crow’s lower back.

  Rakel tugged on her white braid. “I’ve been raising the temperature.”

  “Believe me, Princess, we’re all thankful,” Oskar said. “Suck it in, pigeon!”

  “The name is Crow.”

  Phile, Oskar, and Crow yelped and tumbled to the ground when the mercenary popped out of the tight pass.

  Oskar staggered to his feet. “I’m getting too old for this.”

  Crow almost knocked into Snorri who, instead of continuing down the uncomfortable pass, stared at one of the cliff walls.

  “What is it, Snorri?” General Halvor asked.

  “It’s inside,” Snorri said.

  Phile stood up and panted. “The mirror?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s inside the cliff?”

  “Yes.”

  Phile squinted up at the sky—which was gray, misty, and seemed almost close enough to touch. “There must be a way in.”

  Oskar peered down the tight path. “Perhaps if we forge ahead.”

  “It’s impassable,” Frodi called from the front of the line.

  “What if the opening is above?” Eydìs asked.

  “You mean the top of the mountain?” Phile asked.

  “It’s a possibility,” General Halvor said.

  Rakel placed her hand on the rocky slope, feeling the depth and thickness of the ice and snow packed into the mountain. “It’s here,” she said.

  “How do you know?” Crow asked, eyeing her with interest.

  Rakel shoved her arm into the snow. The drift blew apart, as if a strong wind disturbed it, and revealed a small opening that was partially covered by rocks.

  Phile plucked a rock off the top. “Nice work, Little Wolf.”

  In a few short moments, the opening was cleared. Oskar had to duck to enter, and Rakel nearly scraped her head, but everyone else was able to enter undeterred. (Everyone but Crow, that was. His layers of clothing meant Phile had to yank him inside like a mother cat dragging a fat kitten.)