by K. M. Shea
Kai cried with relief, his face scrunched with feeling.
Rakel dropped to her knees and hugged him, pulling him to her. “You’re safe, now. It’s okay, Kai.”
The little boy clung to her as Oskar, Phile, Crow, and Gerta descended upon them.
“I d-don’t want magic, P-Princess.” Kai’s teeth chattered as shock hit him.
“I’m sorry,” Rakel said. There was nothing else she could say. “I’m so sorry.”
“What happened?” Rakel watched a servant place steaming mugs of goat milk in front of the children.
“We were playing one of the stories you and Phile told us,” Gerta said. She held Kai’s hand and shoveled toast topped with brown cheese into her mouth with her free hand.
Kai was pale and quiet. He didn’t move to take the toast or milk and sat on his cushioned chair like a doll.
“Stories?” Rakel asked, puzzled.
“When Phile reenacted your battles with your ice sculptures,” Gerta said. “We tried to make our own sculptures, but we could only get ’em as big as us,” she added, clearly sorrowful they hadn’t created the gigantic statues Phile had coerced Rakel into making. “It took us hours to make ’em and get them lined up across from each other. When we were ready, we shouted ‘Attack,’ and Kai’s snow sculptures came to life!”
Snorri rubbed the back of his neck. “He can make things sentient?”
Rakel tapped the arm of her armchair. “That isn’t quite right. They weren’t alive.”
Crow peered down his beaky nose at her. “Then, Princess, I would love to know what your definition of ‘alive,’ is, ’cause they looked awfully mobile to me.”
Kai stiffened, and Oskar patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you try drinking something?” he suggested.
Kai shook his head.
“They weren’t alive,” Rakel insisted. “I could still feel the snow. Kai’s magic was directly manipulating the snow—the way I do when I use my powers.”
“I think the key was in the words.” Phile rubbed Foedus’s edge across the pad of her thumb. “He said attack, and they did.”
“I agree,” Rakel said. “I think his magic was applied to the snow so it would do his will.”
“A second snow user? That’s surprising,” Oskar said. “Snow and ice users are relatively rare—though they only occur in the northern countries, so I suppose it is not impossible to have two such magic users in close contact.”
“I don’t know if he is a snow user.” Rakel tried to sift through her thoughts and observations. “His magic had a different flavor than mine.”
“Would it feel the same if he had snow magic, too?” Phile asked.
“No. Everyone’s magic has their individual print…but his should have been more similar to mine,” Rakel said. “I could feel a faint link—his magic had a beauty to it that mine shares—but it was different—the way a reindeer and horse are both pack animals but very different creatures.”
She glanced over at Kai and Gerta. Gerta was listening, her eyes going back and forth between Rakel and the rest of the adults as she kept eating cheese-topped toast. Kai, however, was still motionless.
“Kai,” Rakel said. “Do you know what your magic is?”
Kai took in a shuddering breath. “I-I think so.”
Phile crouched down in front of him and smiled. “Do you think you could explain it to us?”
Kai licked his lips. “If I build something, I can give it an order…and it will do it.”
“That’d be why the snow moved—the little gal said they shouted, ‘Attack.’” Crow folded his arms across his chest.
“Not sentience,” Snorri said.
“Yes. It’s more an expression of his will,” Oskar agreed.
Rakel joined Phile in hunkering down in front of the young boy. “Could you show us?”
Kai shrank back in the chair and shook his head.
“Your magic isn’t something you have to fear, Kai,” Rakel said in her most gentle voice.
“Magic is scary. It’s wrong,” he whispered. The haunted look in his eyes twisted her heart.
He knows. Though he fearlessly befriended me, he knows what having magic means. “Do you think I’m scary and wrong?”
“Of course not!” Kai gaped at her with horror.
“I don’t think you’re scary or wrong either. Magic doesn’t make you more special or less human,” Rakel said. She held out her hand and created a paper-thin snowflake the size of a bowl. It twisted in the air, glittering a dazzling silver in the firelight. “It means you have a responsibility and an ability that will never leave you.”
“Magic users are hunted and killed,” Kai said. He stared at Rakel, begging her with his eyes to save him.
“It’s true; they were. And in many countries, they still are. But you live in Verglas. Nothing like that will happen to you,” she said.
“You were all alone on that mountain because you had magic.” Kai shivered and stared at his hands.
“Oh, Kai,” Rakel said. She dismissed the snowflake and hugged him. “My exile is…complicated. One day, I’ll explain it to you. But that was in the past. My brother—King Steinar—would never let anything happen to the magic users. Things have changed. We don’t have to hide anymore.”
“How do you know?” Kai asked, his voice small.
Rakel released him so she could meet his eyes. “Because Steinar wouldn’t do anything to harm me.” She was surprised when she realized she genuinely meant it. Her relationship with Steinar was rocky, but in the few stilted conversations she’d had with him, she knew for certain he had never planned to hurt her, and that wouldn’t change. “And the Verglas citizens have grown to accept us. Many people have come out of hiding and declared their powers publically so they can help us save Verglas.”
Kai rubbed his nose and stared back at Rakel. After a few long moments he lowered his gaze to the plate of toast. “Okay.” He slipped off his chair and padded across the room to pick up a basket of toy blocks Snorri frequently used in their strategy sessions to build models of landscapes he’d scouted. Kai paused with a block in each hand. “If I can’t—if it attacks me again, will you stop it?”
“Kai, the princess is the most powerful magic user ever.” Gerta snatched up another piece of toast and wandered after him. “She can keep you safe.”
“I’m afraid I am not the most powerful.” Rakel ignored Phile’s snort of disbelief. “But I can promise that I will stop your magic, should it prove to be harmful.”
Kai nodded. He sat down on the ground and started arranging the blocks to build a wall. When he had a decent structure going, he said, “Defend.”
The blocks pulled tight, creating a wall. Gerta tried to kick it, but it didn’t move.
Phile prodded the blocks with Foedus. “Can you order it to do more than one thing?”
“I don’t think so,” Kai said.
“Could you try?” Oskar asked.
“Scatter,” Kai said.
The blocks remained tightly interlocked.
“I don’t know how to make it stop,” he admitted after several moments of silence.
“You have to let go of your magic,” Rakel said. “You feel it swirling in you?”
Kai nodded.
“Cut it off.”
Kai set his shoulders then kicked the blocks. They scattered, toppling from their tight formation.
Rakel turned to Oskar but was distracted when she realized that Kai’s mother stood in the doorway—her face wan and tense.
“Kai,” Rakel gestured to the door.
“Mother!” Kai threw himself at her. She took a step back, and at first Rakel thought it was due to the force with which Kai hit her, but it was almost a flinch.
“Thank you, Princess, for saving Kai.” Gerta brushed crumbs from her face and offered Rakel a big, sweet smile.
Rakel smoothed the little girl’s braids. “You did well to come find me.”
“I knew it,” Gerta said, satisfaction crustin
g her words. She thumped across the study—stopping to grab her abandoned coat.
Kai’s mother placed a shaking hand on his head. “Thank you,” she whispered to everyone in the room, then fled like a nervous doe. Kai, clinging to her hands, was dragged in her wake, and Gerta shuffled after them.
“Playing is gonna be a lot more fun now!” Gerta said as she skipped out of the room.
Knut—Kai’s mother’s escort to the study—saluted Rakel. “Do you need anything more, Princess?”
Rakel rubbed her forehead. “Yes. If you would tell General Halvor I wish to speak to him about what happened, I would appreciate it.”
“Of course, Princess. You did well.” He offered her a gap-toothed smile and ducked back into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
“You all are going through a pretty bit of trouble over one little boy.” Crow eyed some of the leftover toast and goat milk.
“He’s not just a little boy,” Rakel said. She was reluctant to put into words what Kai and Gerta had done for her. They offered love when everyone else feared my touch.
“Even still, one child with magic don’t make much of a difference to the country,” Crow supposed.
Oskar rubbed his head. “Perhaps not now, but he could potentially become powerful. Not on your level, Princess, but he could be similar to Farrin—very troubling to go against. His limit, of course, is that he must build things to use his magic.”
“He’ll need help.” Phile tossed Foedus in the air and caught it by its hilt. “He’s been thrown into a new world, and there are no books or teachers that can help him make sense of it.”
“I will help him,” Rakel said.
“Your time is already in high demand, Princess,” Oskar said.
“Who else is there?” she asked. “I have knowledge of architecture and experience in sculpting.”
Crow drew closer to the fire. “I still think you all are worrying over nothing.”
“Why are you still here?” Oskar asked.
“Nobody put me under arrest again when we got back,” Crow said.
Snorri said something.
“What was that, Mumbler?” Oskar asked.
“General Halvor was distracted,” Snorri attested.
“Indeed,” Oskar agreed.
“He wanted to start making up plans for attacking Chosen forces,” Phile said.
“Oskar, will you explain to him about Kai?” Rakel asked.
“Of course—do you not wish to do it yourself?” Oskar asked.
“I do, but I was speaking with Steinar when Gerta searched me out. I would like to see if I can salvage the conversation.”
“He let you into his rooms, I saw,” Oskar said. “Do you think you’ve gotten through to him?”
“I don’t know,” Rakel said honestly. “But I will keep trying.”
Crow plopped down in the seat Gerta had abandoned. “You all are the strangest folk I’ve ever seen.”
“No one asked you, pigeon,” Oskar said.
Crow squawked in anger as Rakel made her exit.
Phile trotted after her. “Wait, I’ll come with you.”
“Please be aware, Phile, that if you open your mouth to make an observation on Steinar’s handsome appearance while I try to speak to him, I will bury Foedus in a block of ice so cold it won’t melt out until the end of summer,” Rakel said.
“No worries there,” Phile said. “Steinar is handsome, but he resembles you too much. It feels horridly awkward trying to appraise his looks when all I can think of is that he could pass for your sister if I conned him into wearing a dress.”
“I think I understand why we are such good friends,” Rakel said as they turned a corner.
“Because you also think he would look fetching in a Bunad?”
“No. You make me feel normal—a colossal accomplishment, given what I am.”
“And so my legend grows! The next step will be to open a guild of some sort.”
“Are you still babbling about that?”
“I found Pordis and her merchant empire inspiring.”
“You have never struck me as being an honest tradeswoman.”
“Who says I have to create an honest guild? There’s an awful lot of things we could steal from kings—not Steinar of course. I would split the profits with you.” Phile slung her arm over Rakel’s shoulder.
“I emphatically refuse. Having a thief as my closest companion is bad enough.”
“I’m your closest companion? You’re too sweet! Now, about your brother and that Bunad.”
“Phile!”
CHAPTER 6
STRATEGIES & SIBLINGS
“With Tenebris’s arrival, the dynamics of our battle will change drastically,” General Halvor said.
Rakel glanced around the room, smiling when her eyes lingered on Steinar sitting next to her. It was a miracle that he agreed to attend the war council. Maybe he finally understands…
“I am unfortunately ignorant of the events that occurred when the Chosen first invaded, due to my assignment at the time.” General Halvor uncomfortably cleared his throat. He glanced at Rakel, then stared down at his hands in shame. “However,” he continued after a moment, “I have since gathered information and spoken to those who are knowledgeable. And we have recently found two eyewitnesses from one of the first battles against the Chosen—the Battle of Gaula. Tenebris’s use of magic in that battle made it possible for the Chosen to sweep north and capture territory—until Farrin Graydim and his regiment encountered the princess—as most Verglas soldiers were slaughtered or taken captive.”
General Halvor gestured to Crow and a weary-looking Verglas soldier who stood behind him. “In order to be prepared for what we will soon face, I asked them to give their account of the battle.”
General Halvor stepped aside and motioned for the two men to draw forward and address the council.
This meeting was being held in the royal library—one of the few rooms that hadn’t been damaged in the initial invasion. It was a little awkward, as quite a large group had gathered—including Rakel’s usual retinue, many of the magic users, and a fair number of Halvor’s officers. Some were forced to sit on stools or stand, but an underlying anticipation had the room in a buzz.
We’re an actual force to be reckoned with now. It’s not just hit-and-run fighting and reclaiming territory. It is likely we’ll march for an actual battle. The prospect frightened Rakel, but she was encouraged at the same time.
“Greetings, chaps!” Crow said with a cheeky grin. “I’m your friendly prisoner, Cronius Winderbag—ex-mercenary of the Third Regiment in the Chosen Army. It’s a pleasure to be here!”
The Verglas soldier standing with him was, in contrast, as emotional as a boulder. “Ensign Topi,” he muttered.
“So, what do you want to know? My favorite foods, or perhaps my life-long dreams and goals?” Crow asked.
“Cronius,” General Halvor warned.
Crow ruffled his clothes and had the grace to look guilty. “Right,” he sighed, and all of his inner joy left him. “In the Battle of Gaula, all the soldiers in the Verglas army were—as General Halvor said—either captured or slaughtered because of the Chosen leader—Tenebris Malus.”
Crow rocked back on his heels, and his eyes seemed to focus on the distant memory. “He sliced through the Verglas army with the use of his magic—the ability to curse. He cast a curse on nearly every Verglas soldier present. I estimate twenty-five percent of those cursed were killed. An additional thirty percent were horribly wounded. Probably five to ten percent of the soldiers escaped, and the remaining men—while technically healthy—were enthralled by his curses until they were individually captured. Do you agree, Ensign Topi?”
Ensign Topi nodded.
Phile balanced Foedus on the tip of her pointer finger. “What did he do with those he captured?”
“Some he sold as slaves, but the majority, he was—when my regiment pulled out of the south a month ago—conditioning.” Crow’s jol
ly voice was flat, and his lip curled up with disgust.
“Conditioning?” Frodi asked.
“Yes,” Crow said. “He was training them to be Chosen soldiers.”
“What?” Frodi sputtered.
“He cannot think any man would loyally serve his enemy—unless he means to gentle them and win them over?” Eydìs said.
“Tenebris Malus does not know the meaning of the word gentle,” Topi rumbled.
Crow nodded. “He rules through sheer power and dastardly intellect. He won over most of his magic user officers by rescuing them from horrible circumstances. In return, they went out and recruited magic users—saving some and luring others in with the promise of acceptance and safety, growing a magical army for him.”
“How do you know this?” Oskar asked with a calculating gaze.
“Ask any of the high-ranking officers why they stand with Tenebris,” Crow said. “They will all grow misty-eyed and emotional and recall how he saved them from some terrible fate. It is his pattern, and they were too stupid to notice, or too hurt to care.”
Rakel recalled Farrin’s loyalty to his leaders, even when he didn’t believe what they were doing was right. Crow is right…He said Tenebris saved him, and he couldn’t leave him.
“We have also received confirmation of Cronius’s word through scouting and reports of our own,” General Halvor added.
Oskar nodded, satisfied.
“The soldiers like me, he lured in with promises of fortune. Mercenaries don’t care whom they fight for, so long as they’re paid. He exploited that weakness, and he generously paid many mercenary groups—who forcefully recruited smaller mercenary groups to increase their numbers and enlarge their payments,” Crow continued. “They have no loyalty to him, and some would leave ’im if they could.”
“If they could?” Rakel asked.
“You just said they were fighting for Tenebris because of money. Why can’t they leave him?” Eydìs said.
“I said some, not all,” Crow said. “The large groups of mercenaries are in it for the money—particularly now that raiding is encouraged. They’ll leave only if they don’t get paid. However, the smaller groups would leave him now if the larger mercenary teams would let them go. Some might even join your cause.”
