by K. M. Shea
When they reached the gate, they hovered in a darkened alleyway and observed the six soldiers guarding the barred door.
“If you can lure three, the captain and I can handle the remaining three,” Oskar said.
“Who do you think I am?” Phile scoffed. She ducked into another lane, Snorri on her heels.
A few minutes later, Phile and Snorri staggered into the main road, spilling empty barrels everywhere.
“ ‘See a city siege,’ you said. ‘It will be romantic,’ you said!” Phile declared at the top of her lungs. “I don’t know about you, but getting chased clear across a city in this horrible wind isn’t romantic—it’s plum foolish!” She kicked a barrel to make her feelings be known.
“We’ll signal the others. Go get them,” a guard said.
When Snorri threw a barrel at the closest guard, four of the six left their posts at the gate and chased after the duo.
One of the remaining two guards blew four times on a silver whistle.
“Such horrible hospitality. No wonder nobody comes here,” Phile said as she sprinted away, her scarves flapping in the wind. As soon as she and Snorri led the four guards around the corner, Oskar and Captain Halvor attacked.
Oskar took the closest guard, chopping on his raised pike with his sword. He threw his weight into the weapon and crushed the soldier against the wall. He kneed him, knocking the air out of the soldier, and then elbowed him in the spine, sending him sprawling.
Captain Halvor felled his foe with a well-placed dagger. “He’ll survive,” he said, noticing Rakel’s gaze on the wounded man as he hurried to open the giant door with Oskar’s help.
When the gate swung open, five soldiers came clattering down the road. “Halt!” one shouted.
“Run. We can’t get it shut from the outside,” Captain Halvor said. Rakel followed him outside, but stopped and waited for Oskar to get through. Just as the soldiers reached the gate, Rakel threw up her hands, and a wall of ice as thick as a human head sprang up, sealing the soldiers inside.
Oskar whistled. “Good trick.” The soldiers pounded on the unmoving ice.
“Come,” Captain Halvor barked.
They raced across the open white field, heading for the trees where Aleifr waited with the reindeer.
“Well, Princess, do you think you’ve had your fill of spying?” Oskar asked.
Captain Halvor cursed when another set of gates opened, and mounted soldiers rode through it.
“Do you honestly have the breath to waste that you can ask me questions while running?” Rakel asked.
“Twelve years, Princess. Things get really boring really fast.”
“Aleifr,” Captain Halvor hissed.
“Ready, sir,” Aleifr said, the small sleighs already turned around and ready to go. “When I heard the noise, I thought you would want a speedy exit.”
Oskar leaped into one tiny, two-person sleigh, and Rakel hurriedly sat behind him.
“Do we leave one for Snorri and Phile?” Oskar asked as Aleifr and the captain climbed into the remaining two sleighs.
“No. The Chosen will find it when they comb the woods. We fly!” Captain Halvor snapped his reins, and his reindeer lunged forward.
Between the moonlight and the light bouncing off the white snow, it was quite bright, so careening around in the middle of the night was not as dangerous as it could have been. The downside, of course, was that the Chosen army could see just as clearly and would have no problem tailing them.
Captain Halvor did his best to lose them. He stayed to the trees and wove in different directions, often leading them astray. Rakel quietly—hoping to avoid drawing attention to another display of her magic—swirled snow behind them, covering the tracks of the reindeer and sleighs. But even with this, she could tell their pursuers were catching up. She could hear the pound of horse hooves above the noises of the reindeer.
Captain Halvor scowled as he looked behind them. “Princess, I’m going to take us over a shallow ditch. When we get to that bridge, I want you to bail out and hide.”
“Won’t they expect that we’ve split up and search the forest?” Rakel asked as she nudged a drift to settle over their tracks.
“Even if they suspect it, they won’t search for a long time, giving you ample opportunity to get away. Besides, they won’t think you’ve separated as long as all three sleighs keep moving together.”
“Are things that bad?” Oskar asked.
“It’s bad enough that I won’t risk her getting caught,” Captain Halvor said.
“Why don’t we take a stand—or have the Princess cover our trail?”
“Because they’ll change tactics and track us through her magic.”
Rakel cut off all contact with her magic so quickly it made her fingers sting. “What?”
“We’re almost there. Prepare yourself, Princess.”
“But I—”
“You must do this, Princess.”
Rakel’s spine tingled with the knowledge that she had placed them all in danger. She wriggled so she hung over the side of the sleigh. “We need to talk about this, Captain.”
“If we make it, I will tell you what I know. Now!”
Rakel pushed herself over the side of the sleigh, clamping her teeth shut to hold in a yell. The sleigh was not high off the ground, and the ditch the bridge spanned was barely wider than Rakel was tall, but the fall was still a good drop. Rakel winced when she hit the ground harder than she had prepared herself for. She rolled under the bridge, swiping her cape behind her to cover her tracks—after Captain Halvor’s words, she dared not use her magic. She slid herself under the branches of a scrubby shrub and wrapped her cloak around herself, its gray color blending in with the pale shades of the forest.
Her teeth chattered and the ground shook as the Chosen soldiers thundered across the bridge. Their mounts’ tack jingled, and they whistled and called to one another.
When the bridge stopped shaking and the noise faded away, Rakel relaxed, but she didn’t move. She waited several seconds, then exhaled in relief.
I’m safe.
No sooner had the thought formed than a man slid off the bridge and landed inches from her hiding spot. “Princess Rakel, you are ill-suited for subterfuge.”
Farrin Graydim.
Rakel slipped out from under the bush and snapped her cloak, raising a fence of jagged shards of ice.
One moment Farrin stood beyond the fence. Rakel blinked, and he was on top of it and leaping down at her.
Yes, he has speed magic alright.
Rakel flicked her fingers, coating the ground with ice as she scurried backwards. Farrin took one misstep and turned it into a leap, tackling her so they tumbled to the ground.
“A fair try,” Farrin said.
Is that praise in his voice? Rattled by the thought, Rakel coughed when his long body pinned her to the ground. She shoved her palms at him.
Thick snow barreled at him, but he rolled away, evading it. In less than an instant, he tapped his magic and was back at Rakel’s side. He grasped her wrist and pulled her to her knees—not roughly, but quickly. He then crouched next to her and grabbed her other wrist.
Rakel breathed deeply and eyed him, forcing her shoulders up.
Farrin shifted, drawing a little closer so Rakel wasn’t yanked forward by his hold on her wrist. “Are you certain you are not interested in joining the Chosen?” he asked. The shattering of the silence made Rakel flinch.
“I would not align myself with the Chosen if it was my only chance at living,” she said, her chin rising.
“It may very well be. You’re strong, Your Highness, and you’re quite good with your magic, but you cannot hope to face an army of magic users.” Although his words were harsh, his slate-colored eyes were unexpectedly sympathetic.
She tried to pull away. “What do you know about my magic?” She yelped when Farrin further invaded her space so he could grasp both of her wrists with one hand.
“Quite a bit. Since you seem u
nwilling to kill anyone—friend or foe—I have received extensive reports.”
Rakel had to bite back a snort. He thinks I would show off my strongest magic? With all of those villagers and soldiers to see? How dense does he think I am?
“If you don’t want to join us, leave Verglas.” He held tight to her wrists, but he lowered them so they rested on his knee.
Rakel blinked. “What?”
“This land already belongs to the Chosen. You’re fighting the inevitable. Take what followers you have left and leave. With so many people—and with your royal blood—you will not be mistreated, in spite of your magic.” The planes of his face were smooth, and he spoke not with anger or aggression…but sincerity.
Rakel stared at him, confused by his freely given advice. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I would loathe to see you slain merely because you are an idealist.” Farrin boldly met her gaze. The white mark of his scar sliced across his face with stark clarity thanks to the bright moon.
“I am not—”
“You are,” Farrin said. His voice was as firm as rock, but not unkind. His eyes traced her features, like he was searching for something. “Leave Verglas. Try Farset, or Kozlovka if you must have snow.”
“I will not abandon Verglas. I won’t allow you to enslave these people,” Rakel said, her voice shaking with anger.
“It’s too late, Your Highness.” His breath was warm on her face. “Don’t throw yourself away for a beautiful dream.”
“A dream?” Rakel growled.
Farrin slid his free hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “A dream,” he repeated. He stared at her for several long moments—his forehead furrowed—and Rakel could see the battle raging in his eyes. He traced her jaw line with a finger before he released her hands with a sigh and stood. “Go, and—if you care for any of the people who serve you—leave Verglas.”
Rakel—unnerved by his touch—gaped at him. “You’re letting me go?” she asked, losing her studied elegance in her surprise.
“I’m allowing you to flee in honor of the care you have used when fighting my soldiers. Next time, I will not hesitate to drag you back to my camp with me.” He flexed the hand he had used to touch her face, frowned, then glanced at her. “Think over what I’ve said, Your Highness.” His black cape swirled behind him, and he was gone, carried away by his speed magic.
Rakel was paralyzed with shock for several long moments. What just happened? What could have moved him to release me? Remembering the intensity with which he studied her, Rakel shivered. She drew her cape around herself and set off in the direction the sleighs had gone.
CHAPTER 9
MUSINGS ON MAGIC
Oskar leaned back in his chair and tapped his nose. “So they’re attacking tomorrow, hmm? Do they have any reason to think we know they’re going to attack?”
“Not necessarily,” Phile said, her hands planted on her hips. “We arranged Graydim’s office exactly as it was. I’m confident he doesn’t know we visited his quarters.”
“However…?” Rakel said.
“They might change their plans because of our small excursion. It still confuses me that Graydim let you waltz on your merry way, Little Wolf.”
“I do not understand it either,” Rakel said, watching Gerta and Kai run past, dragging a patient reindeer with them by his leadline.
“We’ll set up scouts and prepare for an attack, just in case they decide to rush it. If they do not move today, we’ll set up a trap of our own tonight and catch them on their march to our camp,” Captain Halvor said.
“How can we set up a trap? They could attack from a slew of angles,” Oskar said.
“Perhaps, but there is one route that will be quickest and easiest for them, particularly if we can force them to take it,” Captain Halvor said, looking at Rakel.
“How can we—oh,” Oskar said.
“You want me to make areas impassable?” Rakel asked.
“It would go a long way to fortify our attack.”
Rakel frowned. “If you show me the areas, I will attempt it tonight.” Under cover of darkness. No sense spreading unease amongst our ranks.
Captain Halvor bowed. “Thank you, Princess.”
“Did you uncover anything else pertinent to the attack?” Oskar asked.
Snorri shook his head, but Phile spoke. “Of the attack, no. But I did learn something else.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Farrin Graydim recently received a letter that outlined the Chosen’s intensions for King Steinar, Rakel’s brother.”
Rakel had been watching Kai race past, riding the reindeer, but at Phile’s words, she snapped to attention.
Oskar glanced at her and leaned forward in his chair. “Are they going to move him?”
“No,” Phile said. “They’re going to kill him.”
The air left the lean-to in which they were huddled, and Rakel felt disembodied.
“When?” Captain Halvor asked.
“In two weeks.”
“Two weeks? We’ll be lucky if we’re occupying Glowma by then,” Oskar said.
Captain Halvor rubbed his eyes. “It’s a troubling situation,” he said.
Phile tipped her head and frowned. “How so?”
“Because they’re working with me,” Rakel said, sensing their inner struggle. “Steinar is my little brother. If I hadn’t been born cursed with magic, the crown would have been mine. As it is, Steinar is captive, and Captain Halvor and Oskar have been acting according to my wishes. They are in an awkward situation, strung between two royals of the same house.”
“He’s your little brother?” Phile frowned. “But he looks older than you!”
“You’ve seen him?” Rakel asked.
“I spied around Ostfold and the palace a bit before joining you at that Chosen garrison.”
“I see. The difference is likely a result of war on his end and magic on mine. Steinar is nineteen. I am twenty-two,” Rakel said dryly. I wonder if Phile could tell me what he is like…
“No—you don’t look a day over eighteen!” Phile declared.
Rakel ignored the observation and shifted her attention to her closest advisors. “Once we get through tomorrow’s attack, draw up plans to rescue him.”
“Princess?” Oskar said, his forehead wrinkled with concern.
“You don’t have to force yourself, Princess,” Captain Halvor said. He hesitated. “We would understand if…”
“Steinar is the King of Verglas,” Rakel said. “I have no ambition to take over the country, nor would the people wish for it.” I’d probably get a knife in the back for my troubles.
Oskar shook his head. “But haven’t you heard, Princess? Although, with Phile at your elbow, I expect you can’t have avoided hearing it.”
“Hearing what?” Rakel asked.
“The people—they call you the Snow Queen.”
Rakel held in a scoff, but she did say, “They are romanticizing me to make themselves feel better about being rescued by a magic user. It means nothing. If you will excuse me.” She was eager to make her escape instead of mucking around such a delicate topic. She left the lean-to and approached Kai and his reindeer. “Kai, where is Gerta?”
“She’s trying to get on her mother’s reindeer. She was going to come here when she made it. She must have fallen off.” Kai scooted forward on his mount’s back.
Rakel affectionately scratched the head of the longsuffering reindeer. “I did not know reindeer riding was possible.”
“Oh, sure. My father used to ride them…before the war,” Kai’s lower lip trembled for a moment. He shook his head and looked Rakel up and down. “If we had a big bull, you could ride, too!”
“A bull, hmm?” Phile stroked her chin.
Rakel glanced at the Robber Maiden, surprised she had followed her. “Did you want something?”
“I do, actually. Let’s walk a bit.”
“Goodbye, Princess. I’ll watch for a bull,” Kai promised.
He yanked on his reindeer’s leadline and clucked to it, getting it turned around. It trotted off, unbothered by the child clinging to its back.
Phile led Rakel to the outskirts of the encampment, so they were within sight but out of hearing distance.
“You seem troubled,” Rakel said when Phile folded her arms behind her head and stayed quiet.
“I’ve noticed something about you,” Phile said.
“If you’re seeking to discuss my brother, I’m going to refuse.”
“King’s beard, no! Bother your brother. This is about you. Why are you reluctant to use your magic?”
Rakel stopped walking. “What?”
“Whenever you have to do magic, you try to arrange it so the fewest people possible see you doing it. And even when you do use it, you’re slow and careful.”
“I believe you’re overestimating my abilities, Phile. Magic is born in different strengths. Some are far more powerful than others.”
“Oskar told me how your magic stopped a crossbow bolt and a dagger. If you’re fast enough to catch that, you aren’t using your full abilities when you fight.”
“My life was in danger. Of course I reacted more swiftly. Any person would react similarly,” Rakel said.
“Don’t try to fool me, Little Wolf. I’ve seen your abilities during our morning practices; I know how fast you can move. What I don’t understand is why you are fighting it. Why are you afraid to admit just how powerful you really are?”
Rakel gazed at the horizon, blinding herself on the dazzling snowfield.
“Captain Halvor told me how it was discovered you had magic,” Phile said. “You were three, and you created a blizzard in the middle of the summer that snowed in Ostfold. As a toddler. That kind of power is astronomical, especially given that a magic user doesn’t usually develop their powers until they are at least five.”
Rakel’s control cracked. “What is it you want from me, Phile? An admission that I’m as monstrous as everyone thinks? Will that silence you? Yes—I have an abundance of magic, more than any person has a right to have, and no, I cannot bring myself to hate it!”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Phile said. “I said it before: your magic is a gift.”
