Wicked As You Wish

by Rin Chupeco

  Something glittered from an overhead tree branch over Cole’s shoulder. It was a long, golden tail feather, and it was glowing.

  “Look!”

  Cole turned, but Zoe’s strength had returned. The whip sang, wrapping around the feather so gently that it wasn’t even ruffled. Zoe caught it easily with one hand as her whip rebounded.

  “It’s a firebird feather. It has to be, no other bird glows like this. Doesn’t this mean they’ve left the marsh? We have to keep moving!” She was hopeful, energized, relieved that the uncomfortable moment between them had passed.

  “Lyonesse shouldn’t be all that far off. There should be farmsteads nearby, now that we’re closer to Maidenkeep territory. Can you walk?”

  “Some.”

  “Good. I’m not strong enough to carry you all the way. Maybe we can even find a working car or something. Or a bicycle.”

  “Don’t need it. I’m not hurt.”

  “Stop arguing with me.”

  “I always argue with you.”

  “Stop arguing with me. Wait.”

  Zoe walked back toward the swamp, gathering in all her anger, all her pent-up frustration. Before Cole could say or do anything, she unleashed her rage on one of the dead-looking stumps that littered the marsh exit, lightning ripping it into ruthless shreds. Almost immediately the surrounding trunks manifested pairs of webbed feet, and the previously disguised frogs dashed away, ribbiting their protest. One of the larger toads remained for a moment, blinking at her with its large bulbous eyes. For a moment, it looked determined to stay, but abruptly changed its mind, turning to hurry after its companions.

  They’re gonna be all right, Zoe thought. They have to be all right.

  “Persistent little ghouls,” Cole noted calmly, like he hadn’t been startled at all. “You might have a fan club.”

  “Now we can go,” Zoe told him.

  After a few minutes spent determining which way they should be heading, they began to walk, slowly, to put as little strain on Cole as possible, in an odd silence Zoe wasn’t used to between them. It gave her time to mull over the pact she had made, remembered how solid and real the glyph in her hands had felt one minute, only to be gone in the next.

  Lose your tears. That was all she had to give up, right?

  “Once from frogs,” Zoe heard Cole mutter to himself. “Huh.”

  “What?”

  A pause.

  “It’s nothing,” he finally said.

  28

  In Which an Old Flame Brings Tala out from the Cold

  It had stopped snowing.

  Tala opened her eyes to an impossibly cloudless sky, a surprising blue against the usual grays and whites that had plagued their journey. She was disconcerted by the sudden absence of falling snow. For the first time since leaving Ikpe, she felt warm, the cold no longer threatening to bite at her through her cloak.

  A plumed head entered her line of vision, tilted its neck to look down at her. It was the firebird, looking the closest thing to concerned a firebird was likely to look. It cawed questioningly.

  “I’m all right,” Tala murmured, aware that she was dry when she shouldn’t be. Hadn’t she fallen through the ice? She tried to sit up and was assailed by a brief wave of dizziness, only managing to prop herself up on her elbows before deciding doing more wasn’t worth the nausea.

  “Don’t move. You’ll make it worse.”

  That definitely didn’t sound like Zoe. It didn’t sound like Alex either. Or Ken, or Loki, or West, or even Cole.

  She was lying on a thick blanket, which explained why the ground’s chill wasn’t seeping into her bones. Stubbornly, she ignored the advice and raised herself again.

  She was on her feet in seconds, hands searching blindly for her arnis sticks before finally spotting them leaning against a wizened-looking tree, inches away from where Ryker Cadfael sat by a small fire, dark head bent over a steaming metal pot.

  She might be unarmed, but that had never stopped her before. Tala scooped up a handful of ice and lobbed it in his direction. Ryker ducked out of the way, and Tala used that distraction to run for her weapons, even knowing he would bar the way before she could reach it.

  “Attack him!” she shouted at the firebird. “Come on! What are you waiting for? Fight!”

  The firebird cocked its head and stared at her like she was the demented one.

  Ryker didn’t budge. He didn’t move from his spot when she grabbed her sticks, let her aim them his way. He seemed more concerned about the food he was making, glancing briefly back before returning to the pot. “I know you’re angry,” he said, and while his voice was as calm as it could be, there was a faint nervous edge to it, like he wasn’t as sure about it as he looked to be. “But I’m not here to fight.”

  “Angry?” Tala all but screamed the words out. “You forced us into Avalon! Your queen froze Alex’s kingdom! You pretended to be a…pretended to be my…pretended to be on our side so you could use me to get to Alex! If you’re not going to fight, then I will!”

  “I didn’t know!” Ryker shouted back, sounding pissed off himself. “I didn’t know you were a Makiling! The queen had been tracking Alex all throughout Europe. We couldn’t find him after he left the Locksleys, and it took six months to pick up the trail in the Royal States. I didn’t know you were a Makiling until that night at the bonfire, when I saw you stop the ice with your curse!”

  “Then why ask me out?” Tala snapped. “Why pretend when your target was Alex all along?”

  Ryker quieted. “Is it so hard to believe that maybe I just liked you?”

  “I may have been more gullible back then, but I’m not so naive now to think that you just happened to like the Makiling girl out of everyone in Invierno. You expect me to trust you?”

  “I knew you would come to that conclusion. And I don’t really know how to make you believe me. I don’t care if you do.” He sounded weary. “But I could have let you drown in the marsh. The Queen Mother would not be happy to know that I saved you. Your mother stole your father from her.”

  “My mother didn’t steal anything. My father came to his senses.” He wasn’t going to attack her. And as unbelievable as it sounded, he had rescued her. The firebird wasn’t acting like he was the enemy either. It was watching the boy warily enough, but made no move to do more.

  “I swear by my mother that I am not going to harm you.” Ryker nodded at the firebird. “We’ve come to an agreement. I’ll see you safely to Maidenkeep, and it’ll help protect us the rest of the way.”

  “You want us at Maidenkeep?”

  Ryker shrugged. “The Queen Mother’s made no secret that she wants the firebird. Ironically, she couldn’t reenter Avalon after the frost. Someone had cast a counterspell that not only modified the passage of time here, but prevented her from going back.” He looked curiously at her, as if hoping she’d tell him about it. When she said nothing, he continued, “I managed to enter through the looking glass shortly after your group did—a couple of ice maidens slipped through with me. I’ve been tracking your group for days.”

  “The mirror broke. No one could have gotten out after us.”

  He shrugged again. “There’s a reason ice maidens are called creatures of magic. Your firebird burst open a wall they previously couldn’t penetrate; we swooped in before it could ice over again, and they used their own spells to find another access point.”

  Tala gripped her arnis sticks harder. “Did you send those ice wolves after us?”

  “I did not. That must have been one of the ice maidens.”

  “And they’re not with you?”

  “Ever spent time with an ice maiden? Not the world’s most interesting folk. Besides, I haven’t committed myself completely to Mother, heart and soul, like they have, and in their eyes I’m weak until I do. Aimée was seething when Mother told her I’d be taking char
ge of the ICE deal.”

  “I see there’s no love lost among you.”

  “There never has been.” Ryker’s voice hardened. “I’m not in this to make friends. They didn’t. Ice maidens decided their humanity was optional and sacrificed it for the powers the Queen Mother’s iceshards promised. In their defense, it’s a tempting offer. I suppose I’ll need to find a bigger reason to fully commit. Mother doesn’t mind either way, as long as I’m on her side.”

  “I know that ICE took your mother away, but…why ally yourself with her?” She could feel sympathy, even if he was the enemy. The story he had recounted to Appleton was a horrifying one, but the personal cost seemed too great even for revenge.

  But the time for questions looked to be over, and Ryker returned to his cooking, cutting off slabs of meat and placing them on snow-washed leaves. “You better eat before it gets too cold,” he said. “I didn’t poison this, if you’re wondering. I can take a bite first if you’d like.”

  If Ryker had wanted to kill her, he would have done more than that before she’d ever woken. “No need,” she allowed grudgingly, her stomach rumblings getting the better of her, and accepted the makeshift plate. The beef tasted glorious in her mouth, hot and savory even without seasonings. Hunger was all the spice she needed.

  Chuckling, Ryker offered her seconds, and she took that too. She studied him while she ate; she didn’t trust him, but she trusted the firebird. It was pecking at a few strips of meat, and the boy was watching it as warily as she watched him.

  “Never really thought it would look like that,” he remarked.

  The firebird lifted his head, shot him a lofty look, and belched.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Tala asked, not one to let go of an idea so easily. “We go to Maidenkeep, then you’ll try to attack us again there?”

  “I don’t want to, unless you push it.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  She was pleased to see him look exasperated. “I know it’s a long shot, but what do I have to do to gain enough of your trust to get us both to Lyonesse?”

  “Absolutely nothing. I’m not moving from here.”

  “You’ll freeze to death!”

  “Tough break for me.”

  “I saved you!”

  “So you can use me as a hostage.”

  “No, you dolt, it’s because I like you!”

  “Why would you go out of your way to ask me out when you knew you wouldn’t be staying long at Invierno? Why kiss me when you work for the Snow Queen and you know I would reject you knowing that?”

  “Because I was lonely!” The confession echoed loudly across the clearing, and birds would have been startled into flight had any been present. Ryker colored, but didn’t stop talking. “I didn’t have what you’d call a normal childhood. There’s a reason your family chose Invierno to hide out in, and it’s the reason they chose it for Alexei too. It’s hot enough to repel even Mother’s spells. It took me months to realize the prince had settled there. We didn’t know if the firebird was coming for him, or if it had been lost forever at Wonderland, but Mother needed to be sure.

  “But when I got there, I…” His hands balled up into fists. “It was the first time I’d been to an American school as a student. One of the reasons we sought asylum was because my mother wanted that kind of life for me. I didn’t realize how desperately I’d wanted to be normal, and I resented every one there who took that for granted. I enjoyed doing homework. I tried out for varsity basketball, and I made it. It felt good to be treated as a normal kid. No one’s ever done that before. Those six months made it easy for me to think that maybe I could go back to this if I chose to.

  “And then I saw you, and I thought, why not? Why not pretend that I was a real student who could apply for college on a basketball scholarship, who could have a real relationship… It took me ages to work up the nerve, convinced you would reject me, and also convinced you would see past all this and know I was a fraud.”

  He stopped, absently feeding the firebird the last pieces of his meal when it waddled over to claim its share.

  “I didn’t,” Tala replied softly. “I had no idea.”

  His laugh was bitter. “I’ve always been good at pretending to be who I’m not.”

  “You’ve never attended school before?”

  “Homeschooled in Beira, after the Snow Queen rescued me. The kingdom’s got a good educational system in place—they just tend to be heavily politicized in one direction, as you know.”

  “And before that…?”

  “Homeschooled too, but differently.” He laughed again. “Much differently. Many of my foster parents do the basic minimum because social workers like to quiz me on the curriculum, but they’d rather not bother most of the time. They were more keen on demanding I repent for whatever sins they decided I’d done that day so they could flog me into shape.”

  “Oh my god,” Tala said, horrified.

  “They padlocked the fridge so I wouldn’t eat more than they wanted, locked me in my room all day, hit me if I didn’t move fast enough.” He looked away. “When the Snow Queen found me, it felt like a blessing. She let me watch as she punished them. I helped her rescue more kids like me. I’m committed, Tala. And I’m telling you this not because I want to sound vulnerable. I don’t know how else to promise that I won’t harm you unless I told you why I was.”

  Tala looked down at her meal. She couldn’t trust him just because he had a sob story. But there was a particular rawness to his tale that felt authentic. “She saved others?”

  “Hundreds.” He stared into the fire. “My mother…died while I was in foster care. Riots broke out shortly after she was forced to return, and she was one of the casualties. The Snow Queen protected her grave so I could visit, promised me she would do everything in her power to make sure fewer people would go through what I did. Your Royal States—they think they’re the good guys. But there’s more to being good than just telling people that you are. The Snow Queen is honest, at least. I’ll follow her anywhere.” He lifted his head to meet her gaze. “All she wants is the firebird. She doesn’t even want Alexei. If he would let her take it, things would be a lot easier for all of us.”

  Tala remembered the way Alex looked, their last argument before the ice had given way underneath their feet. Like Ryker, Alex had a vendetta; like him, her best friend would not be deterred from this path, and she was afraid of where that might lead him. “I don’t think so. You’re not the only person to suffer loss. Alex blames your guardian for it, and he’s just as committed to seeing her brought to justice.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry you got involved in this.”

  “I was always meant to be involved in this, whether you wanted me to or not.” She hesitated, before finally asking the question she had wanted to ask her father. “Why did Dad leave the Snow Queen?”

  “She doesn’t talk much about it. The one time I’ve seen someone broach that topic, she flew into a horrifying rage. Seemed like your father had a differing opinion about how Mother should have conducted herself in the First World War. It was one thing to fight your enemies, but it was another to allow foreign kingdoms access to Beiran spells to terrorize the population and bring about civilian deaths.” He chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. “She gave the Ottoman Empire access to some of her glyphs, and it resulted in the Armenian genocide of at least three million. Did you know why? Avalon was initially neutral in the conflict, but sent healers to where the fighting was at its worst. That was all she wanted, to increase the fatalities and cause Avalon more grief.”

  “And you champion someone like her?”

  “I understand her murderous rage, then. She would have done things differently now. I forgive her the way you forgave your father.”

  She didn’t reply to that. “Is he all right? When we left, the ogres…”

 
His laughter this time sounded more genuine. “Did you even need to ask? Your father’s a tough sonofabitch. He’s survived centuries with the world literally against him. A boy and his ogres aren’t even a blip on his radar.”

  Tala muffled a quick sound of relief. “And the Katipuneros?”

  “Alive and breathing when I last left, though banged up some. They cost me another ogre and a whole squadron of nightwalkers. For old men and women, they’re quite spry.”

  They were alive. She had that, at least. “If you’re lying…”

  He frowned. “How cruel do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know; you’re the one siding with a woman who singlehandedly started wars.”

  “Maybe I’m a fool to think that I could have pretended to be a normal eighteen-year-old. To convince myself I could play the part indefinitely, only to come back to this. It makes things worse somehow. Did you know the first thing Mother said, when she found me on that bridge, ready to fall?”

  Tala shook her head.

  “‘Where does it hurt?’ she asked.” He looked back up into the sky, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. “Everywhere,” he said simply. “I hurt everywhere. And I still do.”

  Tala didn’t think. She reached out, found his hand. “I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t faking his tears. And in that moment, Tala found that she could almost forgive him.

  He said nothing for a while, though his fingers curled around hers. “Thank you,” he finally said, looking back at her, and Tala wanted to believe that he had made the first move, that this was a part of his plan all along, except it was she who was leaning toward him before he thought to meet her halfway.

  And it was he who paused, hesitated, turned away. “Not like this.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t want us like this.”

  The moment passed. Tala reared back.