Winter Spell

by Claire M Banschbach

  Desperate horror filled his eyes, mirrored in Diane’s heart.

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  Dorian hung his head and Diane knew the answer.

  “No.” Tears stung her eyes, freezing their way down her cheeks.

  August closed his eyes, his shivering increasing in intensity.

  “Just g-go,” he said.

  “No,” Dorian snapped, sudden intensity in his voice. “There’s one more thing I can do.”

  “N-no.” August pushed at Dorian’s wrists as he began to say something. “S-stop, Dorian!”

  “No!” Dorian fisted his hands in August’s tunic. “No one else is dying!” he shouted. “You understand? No one else is dying. I can’t watch it again!” A sob broke through. “I can’t. Not if I can stop it.”

  August grabbed his wrist in a trembling hand, understanding breaking through the pain. “All right. J-just not too m-much. T-Tonya needs you. D-Diane needs you. Not too much.”

  Dorian nodded.

  “What are you talking about? What are you trying to do?” Diane asked.

  “Giving him some of my magic to help fight it.” Dorian focused on his hands.

  Diane touched his arm. “Will that really help?”

  Dorian turned a haunted look at her. “For a little bit. Until we can get some help.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  “I-idiot.” But pained relief strained through August’s voice.

  Dorian closed his eyes. August’s shivering abated and the blue receded a little from his face. Together, Diane and Dorian wrapped bandages around his chest and arms.

  “We need to keep him warm.” Dorian buckled August’s coat back on.

  “With what?” Diane asked, helplessness filling her until she looked past Dorian. Hope flickered.

  “Look!” she whispered.

  Dorian turned with a sharp gasp. A caribou cautiously approached, horns lowered. As it got closer, a strangled laugh came from Dorian.

  “I never thought I’d be so happy to see that animal again.”

  Thank you, Creator! Diane recognized the bright green leathers of Arvo’s tack.

  Dorian pushed to his feet, listing to the side with each step toward the caribou. His wings flapped behind him. Arvo grunted and shuffled back a step.

  August reached a hand out toward Arvo. The caribou came forward and let Dorian take the bridle and lead it over. His knee buckled and Diane sprang up.

  “Sit down. We’re taking care of you next.”

  Somewhat to her surprise, Dorian didn’t argue. He half-collapsed back into the snow. Diane nearly cried in relief when she saw the green square of the tent attached to the saddle along with the blankets.

  She spread out the canvas and managed to help August move himself over to lie on the tent. She tucked a blanket over him, then folded the rest of the tent around him.

  “I’ll get a fire going in a minute,” she promised. He gave a ghost of a smile before his eyes slid closed.

  Dorian undid his coat. He smothered a groan, back arching in agony as he tried to fold up his wings.

  “It’s all right!”

  Diane rushed to his side, even though it was anything but all right. She finished undoing the buckles and tugged his shirt up, managing to expose all the cuts on his back and side without taking the coat off. She inhaled deep through her nose, trying to keep her nerves steady for a few more minutes.

  He touched her arm. “I’ll walk you through it.”

  She jerked a nod, pulling his kit toward her. He gave short instructions, flinching with every touch.

  “The ice that hit you, did it do the same as with August?” She tied the last bandage off with trembling fingers.

  Dorian shook his head. He pulled his shirt back down over the bandages and buckled his coat again.

  “What about your wing?” She brushed the top edge of the wounded wing. An unexpected softness met her fingers before it jerked away.

  “We can’t do anything for it right now. I don’t—don’t have the right supplies.”

  He bowed his head again. Diane grabbed his spare blanket and tucked it around him as best she could, wings and all.

  “All right. What should we do?” She sat back on her heels.

  He looked up at her.

  “You said you could help August until help came. We’re the only ones out here. Help isn’t coming. What are we going to do?”

  Diane hated the cold logic that came from her mouth. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry.

  “We could go back,” Dorian eventually said.

  “How? We have one caribou. Who knows where the others went? It’ll take us several days to get back through the hills to Konungburg with both of you wounded. And what about Tonya?”

  Dorian slammed his fist against his thigh. Diane didn’t flinch.

  “K-keep going.” August’s voice came barely audible. “I’ll slow you d-down. G-go after her.”

  “We’re not leaving you,” Dorian growled.

  “He’s right, August,” Diane said, her voice nearly the same aggressive pitch as Dorian’s. She looked north, following the tracks.

  “What if we keep going forward? It looks like they headed north. Maybe we can catch up. The Lights are supposed to break the warding on Tonya, right? What if they do the same for August?”

  Dorian met her gaze again, a bit of hope stirring in his green eyes. “It’s a chance.”

  “I’m just not sure how we’re all supposed to get there with just one caribou.” The words slipped from Diane.

  A nervous huff came from Arvo. The caribou looked at something past Dorian and Diane, and he shuffled away. Only a quiet word from August stayed him.

  What now? Diane exchanged the same look with Dorian. Tension knotted her shoulders. A heavy crunch sounded behind them. She reached for her staff, whirling on her knees and freezing.

  The polar bear had returned.

  It stood a few paces away, head up and ears pricked as it studied them. Diane swallowed hard. It stood nearly as tall as Arvo. The giant paws could take her apart with one swipe. It grumbled deep in its throat, coming forward a step. Diane locked away a whimper of fear, raising her staff.

  “D-Diane,” August’s quiet voice sounded. “It’s all right. That’s not a bear.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “That ice must have hit you harder than I thought,” Dorian growled.

  Diane didn’t take her eyes from the bear. It stared back at them, nose twitching.

  “It’s not—” August huffed. “Just help me sit up.”

  Diane slid backwards, laying down her staff and slowly exchanging it for Ralf’s dagger. She got to August’s side where Dorian joined her, his heavy hunting knife in his hand.

  The bear came forward another step. It huffed and snorted, shaking its head back and forth. Diane slid a hand under August’s shoulders and pulled him upright with a grunt.

  “You’re heavier than you look.”

  “And here I was hoping that you’d offer to carry me.” The tease in August’s voice sounded so normal that tears threatened Diane’s eyes.

  Focus! She kept her arm around him to prop him up, the other hand gripping her knife. August fumbled his arm free and beckoned to the bear.

  “You’re sure that’s not a bear?” Dorian muttered.

  “T-trust me.”

  Diane and Dorian exchanged a tense glance over August’s head, but held still as the bear approached. It halted a few paces away, chuffing deep in its throat. August made a reply. It shuffled its feet, mouthing a series of grunts and growls.

  August huffed back.

  The bear swung its head back and forth, digging its claws into the ice. Diane caught her breath.

  “Trust me,” August said again and reached out a trembling hand. The bear came forward and touched his hand with its nose. August hunched forward as he sank his hand into the thick fur around its neck.

  He closed his eyes, mumbling a little around stiff
lips. He broke off in the middle of several sentences, shaking his head. The bear waited patiently, not moving and keeping dark grey eyes fixed on August. It finally growled a little. August nodded.

  “T-that could w-work,” he agreed with no one in particular.

  He started speaking again, his voice rising in command. Then his hand fell away and he slumped to the side. Dorian cursed and barely caught him before he could tip into the snow. The bear snorted and leapt back a pace.

  Diane helped lay August back down. The blue had deepened around his lips again, and tremors wracked his body.

  “What in all the earth were you thinking?” Dorian snapped, pressing a hand on August’s forehead and giving him more magic, judging from the way August relaxed and new paleness emerged in Dorian’s face.

  As reckless a healer as a warrior. Ilka’s words came back to Diane. She shook her head, but couldn’t bring herself to be upset.

  The bear shook its head as if to clear its ears of water. It growled deep and gave great chuffing coughs. It flung itself side to side, paws swerving on the ice as if trying to shake free of something. A roar broke from it, sending Diane and Dorian reaching for their knives again.

  The bear turned and padded back over.

  “Thank you,” a gruff voice said.

  “Creator’s Hands!” Diane yelped. “It’s talking!”

  Dorian stared wide-eyed at the bear. “August…?”

  A small groan came from August as he tried to move and gave up. “That’s a f-faery trapped inside a b-bear’s pelt.”

  “Yes.” The bear growled again as if trying to clear its throat. “My name is Freyr.”

  Diane’s jaw dropped. That’s not possible—Maybe I didn’t hear right? She stiffly turned to Dorian who looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “Phoenix fire…” he whispered. “That’s…?”

  August managed to get up on an elbow, watching the bear as if he’d been expecting this all along.

  “I think he might be able to help us.”

  “Lie down.” Dorian shoved August’s shoulder without preamble. “Start talking.” He jabbed a finger at the bear.

  August tugged the blankets around himself with a grumble. The bear—Freyr—sat back on his haunches.

  “You first,” he countered. “I’ve been wandering the wilds for a long time, not quite remembering who I am. Until I saw you yesterday and caught my brother’s scent, and—something else.”

  Diane hovered on the edge of a breath, not sure how to say that the something else was likely his daughter. The same uncertainty reflected in Dorian’s eyes. He showed no sign of starting to talk. She licked her lips.

  “We’ve been traveling for almost two weeks now. Since the ice appeared.”

  Freyr grunted. “That’s when I first started to come back to myself.”

  Diane shook her head slightly. She’d puzzle that out later. “There was a young faery with us. She was the cause of the ice.”

  Freyr shifted, the bulky ridges of his body going still. He stared at her with unnerving intensity.

  “She’d been living in the ocean. But something attacked her and released her ice magic. There was nothing to be done among my people, or among the land faeries, so we journeyed here. King Birgir suggested that we continue to journey north to seek the Creator’s Lights. They’re supposed to undo the warding on her and let her access her ice magic again and somehow undo all this.”

  Diane stumbled over the last bit of the explanation as Freyr came closer, pressing his narrow snout into her face.

  “What is this faery’s name?” he growled.

  “Tonya.”

  Freyr backed away, whipping around to face north, head high as he stared at the single line of tracks.

  “Tonya.”

  Another roar burst from him that sent Diane reaching for her knife again. But Freyr turned.

  “What happened here?”

  Dorian told the quick tale of the ambush, as Diane had been unconscious for most of it.

  “Your turn.” Dorian wrapped a blanket around himself, wincing as the cloth brushed his injured wing.

  Freyr sat back on his haunches. “From your story, I assume you know who I am?”

  Diane nodded. “Tonya’s father. Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

  He snuffled. “Not dead. Maybe worse. I learned a short time after fleeing the north that it was my own brother who was after Thalia and me. My choice to marry her caused some of the nobles to shun our family. Steinn felt the loss of standing keenly, and argued with me. I wouldn’t listen.” His head dipped.

  “After I left her and the babe—Tonya”— his gruff bear’s voice softened somehow over the names—“I turned back to confront him. Hoping that maybe since we’d left, he would leave us be. But he ambushed me not long after I crossed back over the Strait. He had several other faeries with him. He trapped me in this form and placed a warding over me—to make me forget everything and become a bear.”

  He ground his claws into the ice. “There was one thing he still gave me. A sense of searching. Looking for someone. But I never remember. The only thing I remember is him when he sometimes comes to find me. Until a few weeks ago.”

  He lifted his head to sniff at the wind again. It ruffled the white fur around his shoulders, and his skin twitched briefly.

  “The ice came and brought a whisper of something familiar. It carried a hint of my magic with it and that made me start remembering. The warding he placed on me keeps me away from any other ice faery, but when I sensed him yesterday, I followed.”

  “Y-you were in the valley,” August said. “I caught a sense of you there. And last night. An animal that wasn’t quite right.”

  Freyr dipped his head. “You have good instincts. Yes, I followed. And then heard the whisper of the almost familiar magic again not long ago.”

  Diane rubbed at her eyes. “Of all the things to happen on this trip, I didn’t really expect to be talking to a bear who’s really a faery and the not-dead father of my friend.”

  Freyr nudged her knee with his damp nose. “You seem to be handling it all well.”

  Diane’s chuckle came out a little strangled. “Only because I think I’m still in shock from everything.” She glanced to Dorian. “What now?”

  Dorian looked north as if he could see Tonya there in the distance.

  “Freyr, you know Steinn better than we do. He’s been after Tonya for years. What would he do to her?” His voice hardened over each word, until they cut at Diane.

  A growl rumbled in Freyr’s chest. “We warded her against any attack. You said the ice was the result of something attacking her?”

  Diane nodded. Probably Steinn, though we have no way to prove that other than asking him. And I don’t think he’s going to just let us walk up and do that.

  “Then he’ll have to get rid of the warding to do anything to her. He didn’t kill me, so I don’t think he’ll kill her. He’d be risking the crevasses if he did. I wager he’ll try to take her to the Lights to break the warding before he does anything.”

  August grunted again as he moved. “So that gives us until tonight to find them.”

  “Just where do you think you’re going?” Diane leveled a glare at August.

  “Were we not just talking about heading north to find the Lights ourselves?” He glared back, his eyes dark circles in his pale face. “Dorian. We have to go after her.”

  The way he said it sounded like Dorian was the one who needed to go after her.

  Dorian shook himself, looking back at them. “Can we make it in time?”

  Defeat warred with pain in his face. Diane reached out and squeezed his arm.

  “We’re going to do our best.” Because she still has something to tell you.

  “You have the caribou and me.” Freyr pushed up to his paws. “I can follow their scent.”

  “Freyr.” A thought struck Diane. “Why can’t you change back now?”

  Freyr swung his head to look at her. “Steinn�
�s spell is a strong one. He’s the only one who can undo it…” He paused, his snout wrinkling as his nose twitched. “No, that’s not right…” He shook himself, chuffing. “He can undo it.”

  But he didn’t sound certain.

  Diane reached out a tentative hand to rest on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. We’ll find a way to undo your spell, too.” A frantic sort of laugh burst from her lips. “We’ll just add it to the list.”

  Freyr nudged her arm with his nose again. “I’m sorry. I think all this is my fault.”

  Diane shook her head. “No, Steinn did this.”

  “He felt panicked last night. If you could sense what I was, what’s to stop you from telling everyone? Then they’d find out what he’d done.”

  “He might have done this anyway before we got to the Lights,” Diane said. “Obviously he didn’t want to help Tonya either.”

  “Still.” Freyr lowered his head to touch her arm. “I’m sorry.”

  She gingerly rested a hand in his thick fur. “Thank you for helping us.”

  “All right.” Dorian moved his blanket away with a grimace, his wounded wing jerking involuntarily before returning to its limp position. “How do we do this?”

  Diane bit her lip, assessing, making a mental list of resources. This was something she was good at. Spreading thin resources out, making sure things were provided for in the best manner.

  “Arvo can carry two of us. August, do you think you can ride? I don’t know that either of us will be able to help very much.”

  In answer, August pushed back his blankets and sat up, hunching over with the effort.

  “Dorian, you and I can ride Arvo. Freyr, we have some rope. Do you mind if we rig up a harness on you to help August?”

  Freyr tipped his head back and forth. Diane pushed to her feet. She retrieved the rope from Arvo’s saddle. Dorian took over, cutting several lengths and tying them together around Freyr’s broad chest and behind his forelegs to loop over his back. Freyr sank down to his stomach to help August struggle onto his back.

  Diane tied a blanket around August as Dorian looped rope around the faery to keep him on Freyr. Diane rolled up the tent and Dorian’s cast-off blanket and shoved them back among the packs.