Glittering Shadows

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  She grabbed her left hand and wrenched it.

  Something inside her arm tore, and she gasped with pain. It was stuck to her on the inside. This is your hand, Thea. What are you trying to do?

  “No, no, no…” She took the scissors from her bag for cutting bandages, shut her eyes. Would this hurt? No—it doesn’t matter—do it! She stabbed the back of her hand and hit hard wood. Her eyes opened. She felt nothing. There was a brief flash where she saw the true hand beneath the illusion, and then the magic took over again.

  It wasn’t going to let her go.

  She was sweating, her mouth dry, trapped and desperate. The fog was closing in on her mind, and it was only the stark horror of these dead men that kept it from claiming her. If she walked away, she would never remember this.

  She pulled the cold fingers of one man’s arm away from the gun he’d been holding when he died. Her teeth chattered. Her hand shook. She held her hands as far away from her as she could, and put the barrel against her left. She turned her head away and pulled the trigger.

  Wood splinters shot across the guard station. The illusion shattered, the strange symbols of magic burned into the wood torn apart. It was still attached into her skin; before she had time to balk, she pulled on the hand again. Wood broke free from flesh. Little roots had sprouted from the base, bright with Thea’s blood. Ingrid’s magic must have healed her arm when it was severed, but those little spots where the roots had worked into her bled and stung.

  She stared at her pale, slender arm, now ending with just a stump. Everything she had ever accomplished with that lost hand flashed through her mind.

  The shock made her oddly focused. She took off her coat and pulled the bandage from her bag. She started wrapping it around the stump, wrapping and wrapping, like she could smother the whole thing away forever. Then she buttoned her coat over her left arm. She didn’t want anyone to see this, didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. She didn’t want to touch the wooden hand again, but after a moment of hesitation, she quickly dropped it in her bag.

  She stood in the door of the guard station, facing out. Shots echoed inside the arsenal walls. Her heart was in her throat. She couldn’t help Dr. Keller anymore; she could only watch and wait. The calm she had enjoyed over the past week was gone, and memories pushed their way in—all the death and pain, and all the stupid things she’d said to Freddy and Nan when she didn’t care.

  It hadn’t even hit her until now that Freddy could be dead, for all she knew. She’d had no fear under Yggdrasil.

  In a few more minutes, the shots died down. She heard Sebastian shout, “Get the—” Only the first two words rang clear over the din.

  When truck engines rumbled to life, she finally moved forward, clutching her arm beneath her coat.

  Within the arsenal walls, dozens of men ran back and forth, loading trucks with crates of weapons, herding along a few captured workers. The lights were out, so beyond the immediate activity within the gate she only saw the shadows of large buildings against the sky and flashlights bobbing along. A few men hurried out of the largest building. Explosions shattered the window glass. She ducked behind a truck, clutching her heart. That was the factory, she remembered, visualizing Sebastian’s map. No one was paying attention to her at first, and she didn’t see Dr. Keller.

  Walter, who played the piano in the evenings, spotted her and ran over. It was odd to see a pianist now running around with a gun. “Are you hurt, Miss Thea?”

  “Just—my arm. I’m fine. I tripped and bruised it.”

  “Here, why don’t you sit in the truck?” He urged her along toward one of the idling vehicles and opened the passenger door with a gentlemanly air. “Such a young girl shouldn’t be in a place like this anyway! What was Sebastian thinking?”

  “It was my fault. I insisted.”

  He shook his head. “We’ll be moving once we get it all loaded up.” He shut the door.

  Thea could hardly bear the wait to get back to a safe, warm bed, but at the same time, she knew there was no escape from this. Unless Ingrid could fix it.

  Ingrid had better be able to fix it.

  A few men had been left on guard; other than that, the house held only the injured, the refugees from Irminau, and Sigi and Nan.

  And Ingrid, of course. She had gone to her room as soon as the men left. Nan wondered if she slept, free of worries because she had no friends, no loved ones. She had hoped to search Ingrid’s room—that wouldn’t be possible now. Sebastian’s office? She found it unguarded, but also locked.

  His bedroom, on the other hand, was open. He had a modest room, much like the one Freddy occupied. The bed was unmade, with a map open on the covers and his pajamas tossed across a bedpost. There wasn’t much in it, except for a travel-worn black trunk she found under the bed. She tried to lift it. It held something of decent weight, and was locked, too. She quietly pried open drawers until she found a key.

  She cracked the trunk open to reveal a prosthetic limb made for someone who had lost their leg just below the knee.

  This is nothing new, she thought. When Freddy related that Sebastian was Prince Rupert, he also said that Prince Rupert had lost a leg, and supposedly Ingrid had restored it in a “healing trance.” Seeing the truth of it before her was a harsh reminder that magic was not this powerful: It took a great sacrifice to bring Sigi back to life; it would take a great sacrifice to bring back a lost limb.

  She shut the trunk and marched downstairs to Ingrid’s room before she lost her nerve.

  Ingrid’s face was expressionless when she answered Nan’s knock. “Yes?” Her fingers toyed lightly with the plain collar of her dress.

  “What did you sacrifice to restore Sebastian’s leg?”

  The fingers dropped. “Nothing. The sacrifice was made when Yggdrasil was destroyed.”

  “And what happened to Thea when you were supposed to heal her hand?”

  “I’m not willing to explain my plans to you as long as your sense is compromised.”

  “How is my sense compromised? All I’m trying to do is figure out what the hell kind of game you’re playing!”

  “You are lured by the human world. You’ve lost the person you used to be.” Ingrid’s severe expression lightened, a brief flash of hope crossing her eyes. “We used to be one another’s family. Yggdrasil was our home. I know you remember.”

  “Sometimes…”

  “You remember me. You told me I used to be different.” Ingrid spread her fingers and rubbed them against her palms. “I remember me, too. I don’t want to be this way. If you would help me, we can all be happy again.” She looked up.

  Nan gently pushed the door open and entered Ingrid’s small cave of a bedroom. “Ingrid, what are you doing? You’ve made Thea forget her mother, the one person she’s worked so hard to protect. How could that be the right thing to do?”

  “Thea was in pain. She’s happier without those memories. She’ll remember her mother again after she has fully realized Yggdrasil’s power. Nan, you must realize, even as you are looking for humanity in yourself, humans are looking for something that transcends those feelings inside of themselves. That’s why they go to church. But I can show it to them, so they see beyond their everyday lives and work for a greater purpose.”

  “You mean, for you. They do what you want them to do.”

  “For Yggdrasil!”

  “Yes, Yggdrasil,” Nan said. “Your story goes that Urd and I were killed by the Urobrun Army and the tree was destroyed. You planted a new tree, thus saving magic, but it’s been weakened ever since. And you have now found a way to enchant people into loyalty by healing lost limbs or wounds. Am I on the right track?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “Somewhat? I’ll say, somewhat. Because I have a memory of being held captive and tortured by King Otto, and I sense he was the one who killed me. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “I don’t wish to dwell on the events of that year. It’s unimportant.”

  “Unimport
ant? The king is still alive. You’re working for his son. No—his son is working for you. I don’t see why you need to use magic if Sebastian is really on your side. Did you do this to get revenge? Is Sebastian really his father’s enemy?”

  Ingrid’s laugh was brief and sharp. “Sebastian hates his father as much as I do. I swear to that.”

  “Then what is the lie?” Nan leaned close enough to Ingrid that her breath fell upon her sister’s cheek.

  Ingrid turned away, giving no answer. “I’ll call the guards if you threaten me.”

  “I’m not threatening you, though I might if you don’t drop the enchantment on Thea. If you want to lie about King Otto, fine—I’ll find another way to get answers. Leave my friends out of it.”

  “She’d been shot badly,” Ingrid said.

  “Not that badly.”

  “If I drop the enchantment—”

  “What?”

  “I swapped her hand for one I had made from Yggdrasil.”

  “Swapped?” The red squares on Ingrid’s quilt suddenly flashed into Nan’s vision. She saw the color of blood.

  “Verthandi, I didn’t hurt her! I took her pain away.”

  “Thea has faced so much, and what you’ve done to her now—”

  “I have saved most of these men,” Ingrid said. “They lost arms, legs, fighting in these ridiculous wars. Once the war is over, if they’re left broken, no one cares. They’re lucky if they don’t have to beg. You’ve seen them now, fighting for me, for Yggdrasil, with purpose and pride. They need me—and I need them.”

  “But Thea didn’t need you.”

  “She did, in her heart. I could feel her desire to be free from her grief. Still, I didn’t want her. I meant for it to be Freddy.”

  “How can you possibly think you’re in the right?” Nan shook her head. “And you said ‘most’ of these men. Did you cut off anyone else’s limbs unnecessarily?”

  Ingrid’s stony silence was an admission of guilt.

  “So every man in this house has a limb made from Yggdrasil?”

  “Not all. Sebastian’s closest circle.”

  “Can you give them back what they lost?”

  Ingrid laughed sharply. “I already did! I gave them a piece of Yggdrasil. There is nothing better than that.”

  Tears pricked at Nan’s eyes and clogged her throat. When Sigi walked into their bedroom, she couldn’t speak until she had swallowed them down.

  “I spoke to Ingrid,” she said.

  “What happened?”

  Nan’s voice was surprisingly calm as she explained what she knew, even as her heart rode on the waves of a stormy sea. “If I fix the enchantment, it means Thea’s life will never be the same, and there’s nothing I can do. Even if the revolution is a success, I can’t give her back her hand.”

  “That means all the men, too, and Sebastian? They’re all crippled?”

  “She said it was only Sebastian’s inner circle, but how could she have done this to even one person?”

  “Nan, can you get control of the magic somehow?” Sigi asked. “Instead of her?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s like Yggdrasil’s magic is hers now.” Nan spread her palms on the wool blanket spread across her bed. The itchy fabric helped ground her. “I don’t understand what Ingrid is doing, and maybe I need to stop trying. When Sebastian comes back, I’m going to try to break the spell on him.”

  Thea swallowed back a lump in her throat as she rushed up the stairs looking for Nan, still keeping her injured arm concealed. Downstairs, the men were dragging in cold air along with crate after crate of firearms stolen from the arsenal. The upper floors were almost abandoned—except for Sigi and Nan’s voices, coming softly from their bedroom.

  They went silent when they saw her. “Thea,” Nan said, with such gravity that Thea wondered if she somehow already knew.

  Thea’s voice left her. She couldn’t describe that moment in the guard station. Instead, she opened her bag and dropped the wooden hand onto her bed. The thin roots had turned reddish-brown with drying blood. Sigi jumped at the sight of it, but Nan only echoed the grief in Thea’s own eyes.

  “You figured it out,” Nan said. “I know what Ingrid did to you. When you left, I confronted her.”

  Thea shut her eyes and hugged her concealed arm. “Can she fix it?”

  She already knew what the answer would be, and Nan’s heavy pause confirmed it. “No…and there are others.”

  Thea wanted to scream. Throw things. Find Ingrid and choke the life out of her—but even the thought of two hands wrapped around Ingrid’s neck reminded her of her loss. “What can we do?”

  “We should start by approaching Sebastian,” Nan said. “He’s the leader.”

  “Sebastian…” Thea remembered dancing in his arms, like it had been a dream. A dream where they both struggled to speak and could not. And yet, she still remembered how safe she felt in Sebastian’s arms. Was he really missing a hand? A foot? What if it was worse? She couldn’t imagine him ever being as vulnerable as she felt right now.

  “Her influence isn’t easy to break,” Thea said, gesturing to the wooden hand on the bed. “I had to shoot the hand to break the spell.”

  “Is Sebastian downstairs?” Nan asked.

  “Yes. They’re bringing in the supplies now, and last I saw he was directing.”

  “Maybe if we show him this—” Nan grabbed the hand. “Seeing it might snap him out of it. We need to hurry. Ingrid can sense things through the enchantment.”

  “I could keep an eye on Ingrid for you,” Sigi offered. “Try and distract her if she starts to follow you.”

  “Perfect,” Nan said. “Thea, are you able to do this? Or do you want me to try to explain on my own?”

  Although Thea still didn’t want to speak of her hand, she did want Ingrid’s power to be known. She didn’t want to spend even one moment alone, waiting, wondering. “I can do it.”

  On the ground floor, Sebastian was supervising the movement of crates into the basement and holding his ubiquitous cup of coffee. Thea found herself noticing his hands in a new way, wondering if they were real, wondering if they would pull his hand free and find ink stains on wooden fingers.

  Nan approached him boldly while Thea watched, thankful she had Nan on her side. She couldn’t imagine handling this on her own. “I need to talk to you,” Nan said. “Urgently. Can someone else take over for you?”

  “I think it’s under control, really. I’m just being bossy.” He raised his eyebrows. “Did something happen?”

  “Yes. There is another traitor in your ranks.”

  The word “traitor” snatched his attention. He motioned them to his office, and didn’t ask questions until they were behind closed doors. “What happened?”

  Nan jumped right in. “When Thea’s hand was shot, Ingrid amputated her hand and replaced it with one formed from the wood of Yggdrasil.”

  He looked at Thea. His expression was the same as it had been when they danced—like words were trapped behind his eyes. She didn’t want him to see her this way—a girl with a missing piece, with shattered confidence. She forced herself to speak. “I couldn’t seem to think of my parents. I practically abandoned my mother. Deep down, I knew she had—crippled me—but I could only think of Yggdrasil.”

  “The injury must have been more serious than you realized,” Sebastian said, speaking calmly, as if he didn’t quite comprehend what she was saying. She could imagine that his mind must be working much as hers had, whispering in his ear to ignore the truth. “Ingrid would never harm someone unnecessarily.”

  “I’ve had trouble remembering, too,” Thea said. “Some moments I knew the truth, then I couldn’t seem to speak. Sebastian, I know you have those moments, too, when you remember your own mind.”

  Sebastian’s face was turning ashen. “She’s a Norn,” he said. “She knows how things should be. She told me—” He smacked his hand against the edge of the desk. “What are you trying to do to us?” He leaned forward, m
uscles tense, looking like he was battling a physical pain. “She made choices out of a dire need. She had no allies, no one she could trust, and the only way to build the force she needed was to make this pact. She heals an injured man, and they swear their loyalty.”

  “You’re repeating her words,” Nan said. “A part of you belongs to her.”

  He looked like he was struggling to speak. Thea glanced at Nan quickly. She didn’t want Nan to do anything yet. “You have to fight her off,” Thea said. “She’s told you things you wanted to hear. She’s helped you forget terrible memories, told you about the power you could have…”

  “Ingrid isn’t evil,” he said. “She has to make hard choices. Leaders always do.”

  Thea opened her bag and took out the wooden hand. She didn’t say anything, just thrust it at him; the hand itself, with the hole shot through it, and the dangling bloodstained roots, told the story.

  “I—” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sure she’s done this for a reason.”

  “She’s not the Ingrid I knew,” Nan said. “And the reason is misguided. You can’t have her guiding the thoughts of your people. Did you make a pact with her? Freddy said she healed your leg after you lost it. I’ve never heard of a healer who can regenerate legs.”

  He looked furious. “What you’re asking is something I cannot ask of these men. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Why should I listen to you? You weren’t there when Yggdrasil was destroyed.”

  “Sebastian, please,” Thea said. “The magic is making you say these things. You have to fight her off.”

  Her pleas only seemed to send him into a panic. He made a move to the door, and Nan grabbed his jacket. Thea scrambled to help her, hooking her arm around his. He shoved her back easily.

  “We can’t fight him, either. He’s protected by Yggdrasil,” Thea said.

  Nan grabbed the hand he was holding the coffee cup with and splashed the liquid in his face.

  “Guh!” He wiped his eyes, and she tackled him, knocking him onto the floor. He kicked her back.