Glittering Shadows

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  “What is this?” Nan asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is this what Yggdrasil looks like now?”

  “Can you see it?” Ingrid asked. “I wanted to show you. I wanted to bring you back to our forest, but this vision will have to do.”

  “This is growing in our forest?” Nan switched to shouting.

  “Yes. It will grow stronger and more beautiful—if you let it.”

  “Beautiful? It has fingers,” Marlis said. “It’s monstrous. How—how could you?”

  Ingrid raised her arms like branches, shutting her eyes, the vision wavering and shifting until the fingers and toes disappeared, the bark turned dark and rough, and the leaves grew brighter. “Here it is,” she said. “Yggdrasil’s spirit is with us. We’re all together. Let’s go together, Urd, Verthandi. Let’s go together.” Tears streaked her face. Marlis edged closer to Nan, and they locked hands.

  Marlis’s wyrdsong had already killed one of the men she thought she admired; now it might kill her own sister. Was she acting with courage, or was she selfish to wish for a human life?

  The wyrdsong poured through them, more than a song now, but the rawest, purest power Marlis was capable of, and she felt Nan must be giving the same, standing against Ingrid’s darkness. They were going to take her life, and Yggdrasil’s with her.

  Am I selfish? Am I? Am I? She wanted to turn away, even now. Let someone else do the deed. Through her many lives, she had felt the hand of fate telling her what to do—to reward one man, to punish another. To take lives, to influence human events, to protect Yggdrasil.

  This was different. This was a human choice. It felt right, but also wrong. It would haunt her. She could have pulled back.

  But she didn’t.

  I will do my best to live a human life worthy of my Norn life. To do what is right. Please. Let me have that chance.

  I’m sorry we couldn’t save you, Skuld.

  The vision of Yggdrasil shrunk away into Ingrid, and she collapsed forward, her wooden limbs detaching from her body. Her song died. The world seemed to break open in Marlis’s eyes, becoming a blinding white and then clearing, colors turning two shades more vivid.

  Nan dropped to Ingrid’s side and turned her over so her wooden eyes faced the sky. Marlis thought she was already gone. But then Ingrid’s lungs drew a ragged breath. “It’s dark now and I’m so cold. Don’t leave me, Verthandi.”

  “I’m here.” Nan gathered her body onto her lap. There was so little left of her. Marlis stroked her forehead, and her eyes closed. She let out a small sigh.

  “I’m sorry, Urd. Verthandi, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “I love you,” Nan said.

  “We both love you,” Marlis said, but she bit her lip. She loved Skuld, but not Ingrid.

  “I love you, too,” Skuld whispered.

  And when she died, magic died with her.

  In that moment, Freddy’s magic felt like a ghost that had possessed him since birth and had become a friend—a friend that was gone in an instant. Every man he had revived fell where they stood. He had brought back over a hundred, and when they were gone, he felt—not weaker, not stronger. Just strange. Like a different person altogether.

  It’s gone. It’s just gone. Like that.

  “Tell the fifth division to cover Nan and Marlis as they get out of there,” Sebastian told the radio operator. “Quickly, quickly, before Otto regroups.”

  Freddy climbed into the jeep and stared at his hands. All the tingling heat in his fingers and the prickling sense in his temples that always occurred when he was around the dead was gone like it had never existed.

  “Freddy?” Sebastian clamped a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. I’m fine.” He forced himself to think only of the moment at hand. “Are we going to try and get Otto? If Ingrid’s gone?”

  “We’re almost out of ammo,” Sebastian said. “Nan and Marlis did what they needed to do, but…” He surveyed the scene. The center of the field was opening up as Otto and Sebastian’s scattered men drew back toward their sides. “They do seem disoriented. They still outnumber us, though not as badly as before. Should we attempt one final push? Losing magic should have hit their morale more than ours.”

  Another jeep pulled up next to them with Marlis and Nan inside, but the first to climb out was a silver-haired witch with one hand. Her face was drawn and weak. This must be one of the magic users from the Mausoleum.

  “Jenny!” Sebastian ran forward to embrace the woman. He looked close to tears when he pulled back. “I’m so sorry. Not your hand, too…”

  “Rupert.” She was firm. “Don’t be sorry for any of this. You’re still so young, to challenge your father’s armies like this. You have done all you could and more. Support for you in Irminau grows by the day.”

  Sebastian looked grave. “Do you think his army would surrender to me?”

  “I want to address them now.” She coughed, her thin body rattling.

  “We’re low on ammo. I think I have enough for one last stand, but it’s a gamble.”

  “I’m going back to face Otto, even if they are the last steps I take,” Jenny said.

  “For what it’s worth, I think we should try,” Freddy said.

  “We’ve lost a lot of men, but they’ve lost more, and you are the prince.” Seeing Jenny and the other magic users who had come back twisted him with guilt; he would survive this, but they wouldn’t come back from the state they were in. Jenny was surely thinking she had nothing to lose.

  Marlis had stepped out of the jeep while they were talking; she watched quietly.

  “Marlis,” Sebastian said. “Do you mind taking care of things here, making sure the injured make it back safely? And if the worst happens to me…you’re in command.”

  She opened her mouth as if to protest, then looked at Nan sitting in the jeep with Ingrid’s body. She nodded.

  Then, quickly, she kissed Freddy on the cheek. “For luck. That’s all,” she said, and climbed back in the car.

  The touch of her lips left a tingle of surprise; he rubbed his cheek.

  “I don’t get one?” Sebastian called, even as the vehicle was pulling away.

  “You already got something similar back at the base, I’m sure,” Marlis said.

  Sebastian took one of the guns from the revived men who had fallen nearby and handed it to Jenny. “For protection,” he said. “Don’t do anything rash.”

  They climbed in the vehicle, and he addressed the men directly with the radio. “This is Prince Rupert speaking. You’ve all done a fine job; their numbers are substantially reduced. I’d like to avoid further bloodshed. I’m going to try and work out an agreement. Please provide cover but hold your fire unless necessary.”

  The Irminauer soldiers were closing in around the vehicle. Sebastian picked up his megaphone.

  “Let me say something first,” Jenny said. She grabbed the megaphone and stood up to address the soldiers across the field while Sebastian still looked unsure about this plan.

  “Men of Irminau! I have been working for King Otto since I was fourteen years old—and not by choice. I was unlucky enough to be born with magic, and for that I was forced to spend my very short life under Your Majesty’s nose. I’m still shy of my fortieth birthday, and I look seventy. He doesn’t care about you. All he cares about is his own power and glory, and he’ll stomp on you to get it. But here with me now is Crown Prince Rupert. He is here today fighting you, but what he is really doing, whether you know it or not, is fighting for you. This is the side you should be on.”

  Sebastian stood up and Jenny handed him the megaphone. “Irminau is my homeland. I’m here to fight my father, because he is, truly, the enemy of my country.” He hesitated. “I am the leader of the Urobrun Army, and I’d also like to serve as your king. I want to see a strong, wealthy nation like we once were. King Otto can force Urobrun to fall in line, or I can bring about a peaceful union.”

  A very long moment occurre
d in which no one moved at all, and then an old woman—no, not old, Freddy thought, just another poor magic user—slowly hobbled out into the center of the field. Looking at Sebastian, she dropped with difficulty onto her knees, and then her arms. Finally, she dropped her forehead to the cold ground, prostrate to Sebastian as if he were the king.

  Another pause, but shorter, before another man joined her, a young soldier this time.

  And then it was like a spell had been cast—or broken. A few more came, and then more, and then the entire Irminauer army was on their knees.

  Amidst this, in the distance, a figure emerged. Unlike Sebastian, Otto had not been at the front lines. Freddy picked up the binoculars and found him. He was wearing a fine uniform with gold braiding and medals. He was speaking to someone. Then he mounted a horse and rode forward.

  “Move up. We’ll meet him in the center,” Sebastian told the driver.

  “Rupert.” King Otto looked imperious on his horse, but his hands twitched, and the horse stepped sideways and had to be reined back in.

  Sebastian climbed out of the car. “Father, the era of magic has ended, and your men seem to agree it’s time for a new regime.”

  King Otto’s eyes were pure rage. But he lifted his hands.

  Jenny started to move, and Sebastian clutched her good arm.

  “He’s a liar,” Jenny hissed.

  Sebastian looked at his father again, still holding Jenny’s arm.

  “He should die,” another man called. “He killed my sister. Don’t you dare spare him just because he’s your father, Prince Rupert, I beg you. Get justice for everyone he sacrificed.”

  Freddy thought this an alarming statement, coming from someone who had been fighting for King Otto moments ago. He hadn’t considered that people would fight for someone they hated if they were afraid to do otherwise.

  A counter-rumble was beginning, some people defending Otto’s actions. This could get ugly quickly, Freddy thought.

  He lifted a hand. “I’m a magic user myself; I’ve dyed my hair, but it’s pure silver. I was used by Chancellor Horn the same way Otto has used his sorcerers here. But we can’t build a new country by executing someone without trial. That is the right of every citizen in a modern nation.”

  Otto had clasped his hands during this conversation as if in prayer. “My son, I am grateful for your mercy. Considering how long I have thought you to be dead.” He had replaced the fury with almost tearful repentance.

  “No. No trial.” Jenny’s voice was so low, it was like she muttered to herself. She pulled her arm away from Sebastian, who snatched his hand back as if she’d caused him pain. “No trial,” she repeated, firing the gun. The recoil knocked her back into Sebastian’s arms, and blood sprayed from Otto’s chest. He stayed mounted, his eyes widening with surprise. One of his healers rushed toward him, but she must have forgotten that magic was gone. A few other men helped him down from the horse. He was looking at his own hand, his white glove now bright red, but then they couldn’t see him anymore for the crowd surrounding him.

  “He’s dead,” one of the men announced.

  “Long live King Rupert!” someone cried, and then the whole crowd began to take up the chant until it was a roar.

  Jenny looked at Sebastian. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you’re too kind, my dear Rupert. You haven’t spent ten years trapped in bed while your hatred poisons you. Now it’s not on your hands. And I won’t make you put me on trial either. My life is over. Yours must begin fresh.”

  She turned the gun on herself.

  Nan had wrapped her coat around Skuld’s body, bringing her back to the camp. This didn’t feel like a victory. Cries and groans of pain came from every direction as injured men were treated right on the ground, as soon as a doctor could get to them. The healers were useless now. Bright red blood was everywhere—spattering the snow, turning the slush pink, staining clothes, and matted in hair.

  Nan stood still amidst the commotion, overwhelmed by the color and sound. Everything seemed so different.

  “Nan.” Marlis looked torn. Volland was already waving for her attention. “I need to make sure everyone’s attended to. But—”

  “I know you need to help here,” Nan told Marlis. “I can bury her alone. If you don’t mind.”

  “I’ve said my good-byes.” Marlis hastily wiped tears.

  Nan walked outside of the camp. A stand of evergreen trees rose up at the edge of the field, along with one deciduous tree with a thick trunk, reminiscent of Yggdrasil itself. She put Ingrid’s body down among the roots and tried to sing the wyrdsong, but it was gone. She couldn’t even quite remember how it sounded. After a faltering moment, something else came out instead—a note of human song. Just like the color green, she recognized the sound, as if it had been waiting for her to find it.

  She heard footsteps squelching behind her. The field was getting muddy with the snowmelt. Sigi walked up to her with two shovels.

  “Marlis said you might need these. I don’t know if you want some help, too. I think digging a grave might be pretty hard work.”

  “I do.”

  “Were you singing?”

  “Trying to. Maybe you could teach me a song.”

  “I can teach you a lot of songs.” Sigi leaned the shovels against the tree. “How do you feel?”

  “Strange. But I see all the colors, too.” The sun was sinking low in the sky, and everything looked golden.

  “This is the most beautiful time of day,” Sigi said.

  “It is beautiful, and I dreamed of this, but it’s also…” There were no words for the feeling of losing that life.

  Sigi held out her hands. Nan took them. They were ice cold. She realized Sigi was just wearing a wool dress with no coat.

  “Aren’t you cold, Sigi?”

  “Watching that battle was so terrifying I warmed up. I am a little cold now, but shoveling will take care of that.”

  Nan leaned her head on Sigi’s shoulder and cried. For once she didn’t feel like the strong one, and it wasn’t a bad way to feel.

  Thea watched the battlefield anxiously through her binoculars until she saw the Irminau army bow to Sebastian. She could finally breathe again.

  By this time, the camp was full of the wounded. She picked up her medical bag to help. Familiar faces were starting to walk in—the men Ingrid had tied to her by enchantment. Men with missing hands were helping along men who had lost feet.

  Marlis spotted her. “Thea, can you go to the infirmary and get all the crutches we have?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thea…” A voice interrupted her. Max staggered out from the crowd, missing both his hands, looking so haunted she took a step back from him. “Thea. Please, I didn’t mean to frighten you, but when Nan used the wyrdsong, the spell broke and I remembered everything. I hurt you.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. It was Ingrid. I’m more worried about you.”

  “I used to remember, when I drank enough, but even when I became aware of the spell, I didn’t break it.”

  “Here.” She grabbed his arm. “Walk with me. I need to get those crutches.”

  He started to follow her, but he seemed distracted, almost slipping on the ice. “If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, ever, just say the word.”

  Thea stopped walking, took one of his arms, and rolled back his sleeve, revealing the stump of his arm and the small bleeding wounds left behind from the roots. She took out the bandages and wrapped him up, hook and hand working together. She was just as quick as she would have been with both hands by now.

  “Max,” she said, “it’s okay.”

  She didn’t try to reassure him about his own condition. Although she was in most ways grateful for Sebastian for trying to keep her moving instead of grieving, she remembered what a blur of devastation those first few days had been.

  She got the crutches distributed among the men, and then stew, and Sebastian still had not returned. But she heard approaching commotion and
cheering, and then it seemed to happen all at once that the camp was full of Urobun and Irminau soldiers in a celebratory mood, cheering for King Rupert. She couldn’t get close to Sebastian, but the story spread around quickly that the commander of the Urobrun Army had appointed him king right there on the battlefield, to be followed by a proper coronation in Irminau.

  She cheered with everyone else, joyous that her loved ones were safe and the country could rebuild in peace. But Sebastian was so swarmed with people every moment, that as the evening stretched on into feasting and music, she still had not seen him. At one point, he caught her eye across the room, but kept talking to the Irminauer man beside him. It was not until very late, when she tried to slip away from the celebrations, that he caught up with her.

  His footsteps crunched heavily through the snow. He didn’t say a word, just put his arms around her.

  “I thought you might have forgotten me,” she said, trying not to sound as concerned as she felt. She noticed a few guards had followed him, even to this quiet part of the camp, and were pretending not to watch them embrace.

  “Never. I need you.” His back shuddered with a silent sob. “I need you more than I should.”

  “Sebastian…” She stroked his hair. “You’re allowed to cry.”

  He drew back and shook his head violently. “Not yet. I don’t want to risk anyone seeing weakness.” He swallowed. “It’s—it’s really too much, even for me. But I just keep thinking of everyone I’ll have a chance to help.”

  “I’m committed to this,” she said. “I think it will be like everything else. We’ll take it one day at a time, and it will get easier.”

  He pulled her close again and kissed her, suddenly and forcefully. His breathing was rapid. He smelled like gunpowder and sweat. She gripped him tight, trying to convey how she meant to stay by his side. “Sebastian…Sebastian…” He was shaking all over, and he stayed like that until her touch finally seemed to reach him.

  “I suppose I really am Rupert now.”

  “Rupert,” she whispered, testing it now, with a hint of laughter.