West

by Edith Pattou

  I turned to look for Estelle and saw at once that Jaaloki had her in his grasp, the thin blade of a dagger pressed to her throat. I let out a cry and started toward them.

  But Urda sprang first, and I could see the glint of a large kitchen knife in her hand. She plunged it into Jaaloki’s side with a shrill cry. Jaaloki staggered back, his skeletal arms releasing Estelle, who twisted away, her neck streaming with blood.

  Jaaloki let out a hissing sound, lurched forward, and thrust his knife into Urda’s stomach. She fell to the ground, and he toppled backwards, clutching at the wound in his side. I could see his lips working, but he crashed to the floor and lay unmoving.

  I ran to Urda and Estelle, who was crouched at the troll woman’s side. Red-black blood was everywhere, and I slipped in it as I ran.

  I leaned over Urda and saw that she was still alive. I pulled a brocaded cloth from a nearby table and tried pressing it to the wound in her stomach, but it immediately was soaked through with the dark blood. I knew it was a mortal wound.

  Still she breathed and with her right hand seemed to be reaching for something at her side. It was her ring of keys she sought, and with a quick, convulsive movement, she wrenched one of the keys off the ring. She turned toward me and said something I couldn’t hear, blood bubbling up out of the corner of her mouth. I leaned closer.

  “Tuki,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” I said. “I loved him too.”

  Blood trickled down her chin, but I could see she was smiling.

  She reached for my hand and pressed something into it.

  “You will find him, your bairn. The Morae,” she murmured.

  “The what?” I asked, straining to understand her.

  “Morae,” she repeated. “In Skottland. On an isle in the Western Sea. Beyond Leodhas. You will find him.”

  Then she closed her eyes and was still.

  “Urda?” said Estelle. She stared down at the Troll woman’s face, tentatively holding out her hand to touch her white hair.

  “She’s gone, Estelle,” I said. And quickly stuffing what looked to be a small key into my pocket, I laid Urda gently down on the floor. Estelle was crying, and I felt tears come to my eyes, too. Urda.

  I pulled Estelle to me and inspected the wound to her neck. It was bloody, but fortunately Jaaloki hadn’t cut into a major artery. I found some linen napkins in a nearby dresser and, tearing them into strips, used several to fashion a makeshift bandage. I tied them around her neck, and though I could see it was very painful, Estelle was brave, not letting out a sound. The burn on the palm of my right hand was uncomfortable, but I quickly wrapped several strips of the cloth around it.

  “Come, Estelle,” I said. “Take me to Winn.”

  She nodded, and we started toward the door by which she had entered the throne room with Urda.

  But at that moment, we both heard a noise.

  It was a whirring, whooshing sound like leaves being blown by a strong wind, and it was coming from the place where the Troll Queen’s ashes lay.

  Something was moving. I turned and watched in horror. At first I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Then I realized. It was the opposite of Mother’s dream about the ashes in the forest. Instead of losing shape and dispersing, these ashes were gaining shape, swirling up into the figure of a creature.

  I did not recognize what it was, but it seemed to be part bird, part snake, part lizard, and it was the same white-gray as the ashes.

  It was big, twice my size, and had large, powerful wings that were beating rhythmically, though it remained standing on the ground.

  It had a curving, cruel-looking beak and a body the shape of a crocodile (which I’d only seen in pictures), but bigger. There were four short, squat legs with gleaming black talons.

  “Estelle,” I whispered, and she gazed at me, terrified. She too had been watching the ashes form into a creature. “I need you to go to Winn.”

  The girl seemed frozen, unable to move.

  “Please, Estelle,” I said urgently. “Go. And take these with you.” I handed her my dagger, and, grabbing Urda’s keys from her body, pressed them on Estelle. “Just in case. I need you to keep Winn safe, Estelle. Go.” I pointed toward the door.

  Her head jerked in a nod, and she turned and ran out of the room.

  I pivoted, running over to my pack. Drawing out the wind sword, I turned to face the ash creature. Is it a dragon? I wondered.

  It seemed to be taking shape, solidifying, and had grown larger in the time it had taken me to send Estelle away.

  It cocked its head back and opened its sharp beak. A small plume of flame shot up into the air.

  Yes, most likely a dragon, I thought. I took a deep breath.

  It turned toward me and, beating its wings, rose a few feet off the ground. I could feel the movement of the air across the room.

  Trolls could shape-shift. I had seen Jaaloki change into a snake right in front of me. This must be the Troll Queen herself, shifted into the guise of a dragon. And she was heading straight toward me.

  I cursed myself for a fool, thinking that somehow the wind sword, which I barely knew how to use, was going to do me any good against this fearsome creature.

  What was my mother’s dream again? A gray raven turns me into a million pieces of ash? Was this winged white-gray ash creature going to turn me into a million pieces with that sharp beak and dangerous claws? Or would she merely turn me to ash with a blast of fire from her throat?

  I backed away. Her previous burst of flame had not traveled more than a few feet. I could only hope that it had not been merely a tentative exploratory blast.

  I scuttled backwards, thinking to circle around the creature’s tail. But it moved quickly on its short legs.

  I passed Urda’s lifeless body and came to the place I had seen Jaaloki fall. He was gone. No body lay there. My heart thundered, my thoughts immediately going to Winn and Estelle.

  I was fairly sure the ash creature was too large to fit through the door, unless she could somehow shift herself smaller.

  But she must have guessed my thoughts, for in a flash she had swooped around so that she was positioned between me and the door.

  Estelle

  PART OF ME HADN’T WANTED TO LEAVE ROSE, but most of me did, because the creature that rose up out of the Troll Queen’s ashes was diabolique, terrifying.

  And Rose had insisted. She needed me to go to Winn, make sure he was safe.

  I didn’t understand what the queen wanted with Winn, but whatever it was, I knew it was evil.

  Urda hadn’t wanted harm to come to Winn, I could tell that. She had loved him because he reminded her of her own son, Tuki. But Urda was dead now.

  I shuddered.

  I made my way down the hall. I still didn’t know if there were other trolls in the palace, so I was cautious, stepping lightly and listening for any sound.

  And, faintly at first, I heard footsteps coming from behind me. My heart pounding, I spotted a door right next to me. I wrenched it open and slipped through, closing it softly behind me. Urda’s keys jingled as I moved, but I stilled them.

  I heard the footsteps go by, loud, and then recede, until I couldn’t hear them anymore. I opened the door and peered out. The hall was empty. In the light from the hall, I could see I was in some kind of closet. It was full of shelves with linens on them. Sheets, table coverings, and even a tall pile of white and black fur skins.

  I went back out into the hall and slowly found my way to the white room, praying I wouldn’t come across any more trolls. I held tightly to the dagger, but I had never used such a thing before and didn’t know if I would be brave enough to try.

  Finally I came to the door of the room, but when I went to open it, discovered it was locked.

  Rose

  FLAMES SUDDENLY SHOT OUT of the creature’s mouth. I could feel the heat, but the fire didn’t reach me. I ran in the other direction, colliding with the echecs table. Game pieces went flying, and I had to avoid slipping o
n them.

  The creature let out another torrent of flame, and this one felt angry, as if I’d reminded her of the queen I had thrown in the fire. She beat her wings hard and rose up above me.

  A tapestry had caught fire, and flames began to spread. The room was getting hot.

  My hands were sweating, and I peered up, trying to see what the ash creature was doing.

  I saw her glide toward me. Her beak was open, and I could see the fire kindling. I dropped to the floor and rolled, bumping up against the golden throne. Fire swept the floor next to me. I saw there was space beneath the throne, and I wriggled under it. How hot does flame have to be to melt gold? I wondered. I heard the sound of her wings beating, felt the rush of air. She was directly above me.

  A scratching sound came, of talon on metal, and I realized she had grabbed the top of the throne in her claws. It began to rise. Soon I would be unprotected.

  There was a golden slat connecting the two back legs, and I grabbed hold of it with my free hand.

  I was airborne, though only a few feet off the ground so far. The creature started shaking the throne from side to side, trying to dislodge me, yet I held on.

  My hand was slippery with sweat, but somehow I managed to maintain my grip. Watching the room lurch wildly beneath me, I saw that on one side we were getting close to the door through which Estelle had gone. We were also getting higher off the ground.

  Gauging the timing as best I could, I took a deep breath and let go. I landed hard, pain shooting up my right ankle. I had to roll to avoid the throne, which landed with a crash next to me.

  I tried standing, but my ankle gave way, and I fell to the floor again. Air beat on me. She was directly above me and starting to descend.

  I sat up, still holding the sword in my sweating palm. Worse than useless, I thought. But as I saw the underside of the creature’s body hovering above me, I had a sudden preposterous idea.

  I got to my knees and took the sword in hand as if it were a spear. Though there was no wind in the throne room, just flame and gold and sunlight, I thought of Sib and tried conjuring up images of a fierce northern wind. Holding my breath, I let the sword fly, aiming straight up.

  The wind sword seemed to take on a life of its own, picking up speed as it flew upward, and I watched, stunned, as it pierced through the creature’s chin. The blade didn’t go in deep, but deep enough to stick there.

  The creature swerved to the left, then began to circle down, her body twitching.

  She was letting out shrieks of rage and pain. She reached up with her short legs and dislodged the sword, which clattered to the floor not far from me. A shower of dark red blood rained down. Almost like Blood Rain, I thought. I grabbed the sword, slick with the dark blood, and backed away.

  The creature hit the floor with a thud that shook the room, and in the exact moment she made contact with the ground, she vanished.

  I blinked. Had she shifted into another shape? I stared at the spot where she’d landed. All I could see were spatters of dark red blood. There was nothing else.

  Uneasy, I gazed around the room. No Troll Queen. No Jaaloki. Just Urda’s dead body and me. Where had they gone?

  I grabbed a tapestry table runner and used it to wipe off my sword. Stepping around the pools of dark red blood, I ran out the door.

  White Bear

  I WOKE UP, MY HEAD THROBBING. I was lying on a white marble floor. And I remembered. I was in the palace at the top of Mont Blanc, in the kitchen.

  Slowly I sat up.

  There was no one around me. No sign of the troll who had knocked me out, nor of the two I had fought off.

  I got to my feet.

  It was so quiet. Was my son here somewhere? And Estelle?

  I crossed the kitchen and exited a door, making my way down one hallway, then another.

  Suddenly I saw her coming toward me. At first I didn’t recognize her. But I was immediately flooded with emotions. Hatred, fear, even an unaccountable strange surge of something that felt like affection.

  All at once I remembered.

  It was the Troll Queen. I knew her cold beautiful face. Except I didn’t remember the long scar along one side of it.

  She was covered with blood, streaks of it on her white clothing, her arms, even her face. She had a wound under her chin that was running with dark red blood.

  But my eye was drawn to something she was carrying in her arms. It was a bairn.

  Winn. My son. I remembered my son.

  I lunged forward with a shout. “Winn!”

  She stared at me, and I could read the hatred in her eyes. But I also saw something softer there. Yearning.

  “I go to the Morae. What the softskin girl destroyed shall there be restored.” There was fury in her eyes when she said the words softskin girl.

  “Then I will begin Aagnorak,” she continued in the voice of rocks I also remembered well. “And when it is done, I will raise your child to rule Huldre. As once you could have.” There was taunting, anger in her tone, but there was also still that yearning, for what might have been.

  I stared at her, horrified.

  And in a moment, she was gone. She and Winn had both disappeared.

  “No!”

  I heard a far-off scream. Without thinking, I ran toward it.

  Estelle

  IT TOOK TOO LONG TO FIND THE RIGHT KEY on Urda’s ring, but finally I did. The lock clicked, and I opened the door.

  I froze. Someone was standing in the middle of the room. It was that skeleton troll the queen had called Jaaloki. The one who had killed Urda. But I’d thought he was dead. He was holding blankets and Winn’s glass cup in his hands.

  When he saw me, he smiled. Setting down the blankets, he started to blur and shift, and I thought something was wrong with my eyes. I blinked fast and realized: he was turning into a snake. A very large white snake.

  There is nothing in the world that frightens me more than snakes. Even small ones. And this snake wasn’t small. It was very large, larger than me. I almost fainted dead away.

  All I could think of was Winn, who was surely still in the cradle.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I croaked out, still frozen where I was.

  The snake began to slide across the room toward me.

  I screamed and backed out the door.

  The snaked slithered after me, gaining speed. I ran.

  But it was too fast, and it caught up to me, winding itself around my ankles. I fell and tried to crawl away, to twist out of its coils, but the snake tightened its grip and suddenly it was on top of me. I could hear a hissing sound and felt pain sear across my shoulder. I thought I was going to die.

  Then I heard footsteps pounding toward me and saw someone come around the corner of the hallway.

  It was Charles! He was alive, and he was carrying a sword.

  “Help me!” I cried.

  He drew his sword and thrust it straight down into the snake’s tail.

  The snake reared up with an unearthly sort of cry, turning toward Charles. He tried jabbing his sword into the snake again, but the snake was wriggling around too much. I got free and rolled away, huddling by the wall.

  White Bear

  I RECOGNIZED THE GIRL, ESTELLE. Another memory returned. But there wasn’t time to think about that.

  The snake was clearly injured by my blow to its tail; dark blood seeped out of it, leaving a trail on the floor. But otherwise it did not seem fazed.

  Had I ever faced a snake as a white bear? I didn’t think so. Certainly not one so large. But I still felt that same instinctual rush of adrenaline that I had with the trolls. This snake had bitten Nyamh, I was sure of it, and had been about to crush Estelle.

  I wanted to kill it with my bare hands. But I knew its bite was poison. On the other hand, I thought grimly, my sword lessons hadn't covered how to do battle with a large snake.

  It lunged at me, and I had just time to raise my sword, but it was no use. The snake knocked the sword out of my hand with its broad head
and, in a flash, had begun to wind itself around me.

  Estelle screamed. I tried to push against the snake’s body with my hands and was able to keep it from constricting around me too tightly, but I didn’t know how long I could hold it off. And the head was coiling around me and soon would be within biting range.

  I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye, and Estelle appeared. Her eyes were wide and terrified, but I saw she had a dagger clutched in her hand.

  Closing her eyes, she plunged the dagger into the snake’s body.

  The snake jerked and went slack for a moment, just long enough for me to kick my way free of its coils and grab up my sword.

  It whipped its face around toward me, rearing up to strike with its teeth. But before it could, I thrust my sword directly into its open mouth. I pressed forward, putting all my weight behind the weapon. My hand on the hilt was inches from those sharp teeth.

  Its eyes widened as if in astonishment, then filmed over, and it crumpled to the floor.

  Estelle ran to me and threw her arms around my neck.

  “Charles,” she cried, tears running down her face.

  Rose

  I FOUND ESTELLE AND CHARLES beside the dead troll-snake that had been Jaaloki. Relief swept through me to see that my white bear was alive. He had survived the avalanche. And I thought I saw relief in his eyes as well when I came up to them.

  I quickly took in that, in addition to the injury to her neck, Estelle now had a gash on her shoulder. Charles was comforting her, trying to get a look at the wound, but she was holding on to him so tightly it was clearly difficult.

  “Did the snake bite her?” I asked Charles.

  “I think so,” he said.

  I immediately did what the soldier Julien had done for me, what seemed a long time ago. I grabbed Estelle by the shoulder and tried to suck the poison out of the wound. Estelle let out a scream, but she held still.

  When I was done, Charles handed me a cloth to wipe my mouth, as well as his skin bag of water. I rinsed my mouth and spat.