Reign of Mist

by Helen Scheuerer

  The boat lurched, its bow scraping across the black gravel shore. After pressing a silver coin into the rower’s palm, she made for the luggage, her boots sinking into the fresh snow. Shouldering her pack, she looked to the looming snowy mountains, with the words from Queen Eydis’ letter echoing in her mind …

  The mist is coming, and with it comes a power so hungry for magic, it threatens the whole realm. Something must be done. Or in time, all will be lost.

  ‘Henrietta Valia?’ said a muffled voice. The girl was small, bulked out in various layers of fur, her entire face covered but for her warm brown eyes.

  ‘Eydis got my message, then?’ Henri said by way of greeting.

  The girl shook her head. ‘Your arrival was foreseen,’ she said. ‘This way.’

  Henri’s stomach swooped at the mention of another magic wielder. She followed the girl past the sheds. Behind them, a large sled rested upon the snow, with a team of twelve massive dogs harnessed and waiting, their black-and-grey coats gleaming in the sun’s glare. These were no ordinary sled dogs.

  Henri suppressed a whistle of appreciation. Havennesse was renowned for its huge pureblood mountain dogs. These canines were muscular and tall, reaching her waist in height, and she knew they were notoriously powerful and fast.

  ‘Your bag?’ the girl said, hand outstretched.

  Henri took a scarf from one of the pockets in the bulky pack and then unburdened herself of it, watching the girl falter beneath its weight as she heaved it onto the sled. She tied it down to the cargo bed with thick ropes.

  ‘Thank you,’ Henri said, wrapping the woollen scarf around her face to cover her mouth and nose. She moved to take the reins, but the girl snatched them up.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, stepping onto the footboard.

  ‘I know the way,’ Henri said. ‘I don’t need you to accompany me.’

  ‘You think I’d let some foreigner ride away with the best dogs in the country?’

  ‘These are Eydis’ dogs?’

  The girl nodded, and then gestured to the space on the footboard beside her. ‘Come, daylight won’t last much longer.’

  Henri did as she bid, and gripped the handle bar before her.

  ‘The name’s Mariette,’ said the girl.

  ‘Henri.’

  ‘I know,’ Mariette replied, craning her neck to perform one final check over the sled. ‘I hope you’ve got a good grip, Henri.’

  Mariette whistled, and the lead dog barked in response. The sled slid forward and then they were off.

  The speed with which they flew over the snow was unlike anything Henri had experienced before. As the sharp wind shot through her layers and burned her skin, she was quietly glad Mariette was controlling the sled. The dogs’ paws were a blur as they pounded the fresh powder, their tongues flapping about the sides of their mouths. Henri marvelled at their stamina, and the way their thickly muscled torsos powered the sled.

  ‘How long’s the journey?’ Henri called out.

  Mariette didn’t take her eyes off the trail before them. ‘’Bout three hours or so,’ she called back. ‘Depending on the conditions.’

  From memory, Henri thought it was longer, but she’d never ridden with Eydis’ dogs. She turned her attention to their surroundings, and though she was frozen to her core, awe for the landscape swelled inside her. There was snow everywhere, and the deadly Hamasaand Ranges loomed over them to her right. They held the record for the highest peaks, and were twice the height of any mountain in Ellest. Though, Henri realised with a jolt – Oremere. No one knew what landforms the secret continent held. Her stomach turned as she recalled her last conversation with King Arden, the one that had revealed her long-dead twin sister, Sahara, had known something of the place beyond the mist.

  She had so many questions, about Oremere, about why the king was seeking magic wielders, about what her twin had known for all those years before her death. Henri was so angry. Sahara had left her with a responsibility she never wanted, she’d kept an infinite number of secrets from her, and then she’d gone and killed herself.

  Henri’s jaw ached, and she realised she’d been grinding her teeth. She’d done a lot of that lately; it came hand in hand with the sleepless nights. Even with the cold wind on her face, she could feel that her eyes were puffy with fatigue. Whenever she caught a glimpse of her reflection, she felt as though her once fresh face was dull and haggard. Older.

  She focused once more on the landscape. To her right, the Hamasaand Ranges still towered, their dark jagged peaks and sheer cliff faces amidst the deadly snow and ice, more daunting than ever. And as they journeyed further inland, the Kildaholm Alps and the Forest of Wolves awaited them. The infamous landmarks both posed a threat and offered a challenge – calling the adventurer within, and feeding the fear of the squeamish.

  After over an hour of sledding, they came upon a stone watchtower and a large warehouse near the outskirts of the forest. As they pulled up alongside the building, Mariette whistled loudly to the dogs. The sled slowed and finally came to a stop.

  There was an ear-piercing creak from the metal doors of the warehouse as they slid open to reveal a massive lofty space within. Warm air rushed out and hit Henri’s icy face just before three men approached, belting their fur coats in place.

  ‘Lady Mariette,’ one said, bowing his head in greeting. The others did the same, and began detaching the sled from the dogs.

  From the cargo bed, Mariette took two sacks of straw and began laying it out across the snow.

  ‘Can I help?’ Henri asked.

  ‘It’s quicker if I just do it,’ she replied, moving to the dogs and unbuckling the first harnesses.

  Ignoring Henri, the dogs ran to the patches of straw and sat atop them, tails wagging, waiting for Mariette.

  ‘This yours, m’lady?’ one of the men said to Henri, tugging her pack free from the cargo bed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, reaching for it.

  ‘We can take it to the towers if you wish.’

  ‘I can manage,’ Henri told him, taking the strap from his thickly gloved hand and shouldering the heavy pack. She paced in the snow and shook her hands, trying to get her blood flowing back into her aching fingers, while the men hauled the now empty sled into the warehouse.

  Mariette was speaking to the dogs as she freed them from their harness contraption, in a tone much softer than the one she’d used with Henri. When the twelfth canine was finally released, Mariette strode to the straw where the rest of the pack waited. Henri had never seen so many dogs in one small space, and watched as Mariette bestowed affection and small treats upon them all.

  Mariette glanced up at Henri. ‘There are some villages that train their dogs with punishment and violence.’ She gave the alpha dog an additional scratch behind his ears. ‘But we’ve found that kindness instils more loyalty.’

  ‘I can see that,’ Henri said, staring at the lead dog, noticing his odd eyes for the first time – one blue and one green. An image of Bleak, the odd-eyed Angovian, flashed before her.

  ‘This is Bear,’ Mariette said, smiling down at the eager canine. ‘He’s usually Queen Eydis’ constant companion. This is the first time I’ve ever had him pull a sled other than hers.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. You must be a very special guest, Henri.’

  ‘Remains to be seen.’

  ‘If Eydis sent Bear to get you, nothing “remains to be seen”.’

  As Mariette cared for the dogs, Henri paced the grounds to keep from freezing. Her thoughts flitted from one to the next in a panic, the overwhelming desperation of her quest latching tightly around her chest. She needed Eydis’ alliance, and if she didn’t get it, she didn’t know what hope there would be for Valia and her kindred.

  ‘This way.’ Mariette interrupted her thoughts, leading Henri and the pack to the entrance of the Forest of Wolves. It began to snow in earnest, and Henri could do nothing to stop her teeth chattering as the silver flakes fell and settled in h
er furs.

  ‘Here,’ said Mariette, handing her a bronze flask.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Liquid fire.’

  Realising she’d get no further explanation, Henri brought the flask to her chapped lips and sipped. The liquid was lukewarm and sweet at first, but as it made its way down her throat it fizzed into a slow burn, heating her from the inside out. She took another sip and felt the sharpness of her panicked thoughts begin to ebb away.

  ‘Better?’ Mariette asked, reaching for the flask.

  ‘Much,’ replied Henri, handing back the miracle drink.

  ‘Good. Though, I’d advise against drinking more than half a flask. Last time I did that, I ended up naked on one of the lower summits of Kildaholm freezing my arse off.’

  Henri couldn’t contain the laugh that burst from her mouth.

  Mariette grinned. ‘Trust me, it happens to everyone at least once here.’

  ‘It’s that powerful?’

  ‘When you get a taste for it. Or you’re challenged to a drinking game by one of the guards. Cocky bastards.’

  Henri looked up at the canopy of the forest, so different from the bright treetops she was used to in Valia. Here, the snow-clad pines reached up into the sky with seemingly no end, and were so densely planted that each step had to weave between them.

  ‘Bear.’ Mariette turned to the lead dog. ‘Scout!’

  The black canine took off up ahead, the other dogs not far behind him.

  ‘They let the wolves know we’re passing through.’

  ‘They communicate with the wild pack?’

  ‘Packs. Plural. Yes, a tradition that’s been around for centuries. This forest is theirs. We do not pollute it, hunt in it or camp in it, and so, when we are accompanied by our own packs, they allow us to pass through.’

  ‘And if you’re not with a pack?’

  ‘Then you’re fair game.’

  ‘They’ll attack?’

  ‘Hunt, attack, maul, eat … The only person I know who’s ever entered the forest without a pack is Eydis. But she’s always had an affinity with animals.’

  ‘No wonder Wildenhaven is such a stronghold.’

  The dogs came bounding back towards them; Bear gave three barks in quick succession.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Mariette said, swigging from the flask again and offering it back to Henri.

  As much as Henri craved another wave of warmth, she shook her head. ‘I should keep my head straight,’ she said.

  Mariette shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

  Daylight was fading fast as the women and the pack wove in between the dark trunks, the forest taking on a blue hue as the snow continued to fall.

  As it got darker, the howling began, sending goosebumps shooting over Henri’s already frozen skin. Sometimes, Bear barked in reply and the howling abated for a time, but it was never long before it started up again. Then, the group came upon a clearing, filled with a very different kind of tree to the tall pines.

  These trees were warped, their bare branches circling the trunk in the most bizarre fashion. Each was almost identical, eerie skeletons that stood out against the white of the snow.

  ‘What is this place?’ Henri breathed, pulling her furs tighter.

  ‘The Valley of Twisted Trees,’ Mariette said, taking in the distorted shapes herself.

  ‘What makes them like this?’ Henri asked. They avoided going through the middle, instead opting to walk around the cluster of trees.

  ‘The official story is that there’s a wind tunnel here that strips the trees of their leaves and bark, and disfigures their trunks and branches.’

  ‘But?’

  Mariette sighed as they got to the other side of the valley, where the pine trees began again. ‘But most Havennesse natives believe it’s haunted.’

  ‘Haunted?’ Henri scoffed.

  ‘Laugh all you want, but not even the wolves go here. Even though the hollows beneath those trunks make for the best dens in Wildenhaven.’

  ‘What would haunt a bunch of old trees?’

  Mariette shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  Henri got the distinct feeling that her guide was leaving something out.

  Night had well and truly fallen when Henri, Mariette and the pack emerged from the Forest of Wolves. Henri had never been so cold in her life, but she clung to her years of training and discipline. She had to be focused when she met Eydis, when the time came to ask for her aid.

  The gatehouse was guarded by ten men, who opened the gates when Bear approached them with a bark.

  ‘Lady Mariette.’ The head guard bowed in greeting, and followed with a respectful nod to Henri.

  Henri hid her surprise that a dog master was treated with the same respect as a visiting royal. But then, things always had been done differently in Wildenhaven.

  They passed through the gatehouse and beyond the battlements, now sheltered at least from the battering wind. Inside stood three immense stone towers. Henri had forgotten how impressive they were. She’d expected them to seem smaller, as everything does with age, but they were grander and sturdier than ever.

  Bear and the pack sprinted to the entrance of the first tower to the left, and Mariette paused before the doors of the third.

  ‘She’s in the great hall, then,’ she said, more to herself than to Henri, and turned to follow the dogs.

  The guards of the first tower showed them into the cloakroom within, the warmth from the fire soaking into Henri’s nearly frostbitten limbs. The dogs were let through to the next room.

  Dropping her pack to the floor, Henri unpinned her furs and shrugged them off, placing them on a nearby hook to dry out.

  ‘Leave your pack,’ Mariette said. ‘One of the porters will take it to your lodgings.’

  Henri nodded, glancing at the next set of doors, where beyond, Queen Eydis was waiting. She took a deep breath as they opened, and Mariette led her through.

  Numerous fires blazed within, sending flickering shadows across the grand room. Embellished torches lined the walls, along with animal hides and detailed tapestries. At the end of the hall was a high, brightly lit dais with three thrones. Lounging in the largest throne in the middle, with the twelve sled dogs panting at her feet, was a striking, tattooed woman, who spotted Henri and smiled.

  ‘My Valian friend,’ she said, a low-cut silken gown falling around her as she stood. ‘It’s been far too long.’

  Henri had to hide her shock as Queen Eydis descended from the dais and embraced her like a long-lost sister, her sheer gown billowing. The last time Henri had seen Eydis, she had been a gangly, awkward teenager whose limbs seemed too long for her body. Back then, she had worn baggy, unflattering men’s clothes to hide her frame from sight and always looked as though she would dart away to the kennels, more comfortable with the hounds than with her people. But now … Her presence commanded the attention of every pair of eyes in the room. Her caramel hair was swept up at the back, held in place with two bejewelled pins, and her wardrobe … It had changed from modest to daring; the dress she wore now was split high to the sides of her thighs, and dipped low at the back, revealing an elaborate tattoo that flourished across her pale skin in black ink. In a sheer nude colour, the garment looked like a mere extension of the queen herself.

  ‘It has been a long time, old friend,’ she said, squeezing Henri’s hands.

  ‘I should have come sooner,’ Henri replied, bowing to the ethereal, wintry queen.

  ‘It seems leadership has taught you some humility,’ Eydis said, smiling.

  ‘That’s the least of it.’

  ‘I have no doubt.’ She lifted Henri’s chin, and they locked eyes. ‘Your sister is never far from my thoughts.’

  ‘Nor mine.’

  Eydis nodded. ‘Do you wish to clean up or rest before we catch up?’

  Henri shook her head, her mouth set in a grim line. ‘I’m afraid it can’t wait. Where can we talk?’

  Eydis followed Henri’s gaze around the room at the numerous serv
ants looking on.

  ‘My court is to be trusted,’ she said. ‘However, should you feel more comfortable with privacy, it shall be granted. This way.’

  Queen Eydis strode around the edge of the dais, her hemline trailing after her.

  ‘Mariette,’ Eydis said, craning her neck to see the dog master. ‘If Nicolai and Jarel are willing, I’d have them join us.’

  ‘Very good, my queen.’ Mariette bowed.

  Behind the platform, a door was opened for them and Henri followed her friend through. There was a bark at Henri’s heels and she looked down to see Bear racing after his master. He seemed even bigger in the domestic setting, and once he’d caught up, he padded along silently next to the queen. Only a few doors down from where they had exited the throne room, Eydis led them into a small, cosy sitting room. A fire was blazing in the hearth, and before it sat three velvet wingback armchairs, complete with matching ottomans and a small table between them.

  Henri stood, hands clasped behind her back, waiting for the queen to sit.

  ‘Mulled wine for myself and the matriarch, please, Ulrich,’ Eydis said to one of the servants, who bowed his head low and ducked from the room at once.

  Bear settled at the foot of one of the chairs, as though waiting.

  ‘Henri,’ Eydis said, when the door had clicked shut. ‘Sit down, for Rheyah’s sake. Make yourself comfortable for once in your life.’

  The queen threw herself down into one of the worn chairs, and hoisted her feet up on the ottoman with a sigh. ‘Despite the wonders these three towers hold, I swear this is my favourite place in the whole of Wildenhaven.’

  ‘I can see why,’ said Henri, finally letting herself sink into one of the chairs, as well as the warmth and peace of the small space.

  Eydis grinned. ‘Undo a few of those stifling buttons, kick off your boots. I’m sure whatever horror story you’ve come to tell me can be told in comfort.’

  Henri did as the queen bid, lifting her feet to the foot rest and nearly moaning with relief. She studied her friend, who was much changed.

  ‘You got a tattoo,’ she said.