by Amy Bearce
We will try to help. But you must give us more yet. We have nearly lost our battle for your heart. If that happens, we will die along with you.
Nell said, What more can I give? I’ve given you my life! I’ve given you my body!
We need your soul.
Well. Of course they did.
How?
Find a space to sit in solitude. Still your mind. Then we will show you. Quickly!
Nell said to her friends, “I’ve got to go outside. The voice can barely reach me. There’s an answer, but I can’t focus seeing him like that.” She gestured with her hands. “Will you stay with him, Micah? Sierra and Tristan need to watch Phoebe and keep her safe.”
“Yes, I’ll watch him until you are able to return. The sprites cannot harm me and do not frighten me.” He asked no further questions. His dark eyes seemed to see more than Nell could even imagine.
“Do what you have to do, Nell. We’ve got your back,” Sierra declared, arms tight around her sleeping sister. Tristan nodded solemnly, reaching one hand to Corbin’s shoulder.
Nell left the tent, wishing the morning sun was up already, but the night was still cold and dark. And she was so alone.
It had always come down to this. No normal, happy life for Nell. She’d lost so much already. At least let all the sacrifice and hard work be worth something, she thought to herself. Let Corbin live.
She walked until she came to a frozen lake over the rise. Two rocks sat along the edge. It wasn’t snowing, at least. She settled carefully on one of the rocks, keeping her back straight, turning her ankle slightly to a more comfortable position against the icy surface.
Corbin’s mother had taught Nell to meditate, or tried to. It was supposed to bring the magic to the surface, allow the voice to speak more clearly. Nell had never worked at it. Her mind was already full of too many voices, as far as she had been concerned. But now, she needed unobstructed communication, the clearest she’d ever had.
Nell let the darkness wrap around her like a cloak. She noted the solidness of the rocks below, the chill of the wind against her cheeks, the taste of winter in the air. The stinging of her heart interfered, but she ignored it. The pains of the body faded in time, she knew from experience. She pushed all sensations to a small corner of her mind.
Fears for Corbin brushed against her, but she trusted her friends to care for him. Her best gift to him was to do as the guardians had asked.
How to give her soul like a gift?
She closed her eyes. Taking a long breath, she focused on the frigid air flowing deep in her lungs. The cold filled her until the shivering stopped. Such chill could be a danger, she knew, but even as her fingers grew numb, she sat still. She tried to be calm and open her mind to any message from the magic within, but her thoughts still whirled like a cyclone.
What did Corbin mean, to use the windsteeds? Writhing in mortal pain, he’d still managed to throw a message of hope to her. He still believed in her despite all her hatefulness earlier.
Concern for Corbin led to thoughts of all her friends and family. Memories of each of them crowded her mind, so many people she loved, and yet, no one else could carry this frightening burden but her, this magic she’d never asked for. She was alone after all.
But you aren’t truly alone… We will help you… the voice whispered, a mere hint of sound in her mind. But the message warmed her, enough to push aside her remaining fear. The ache of her heart receded further.
I’m not alone, she told herself, embracing the statement instead of fighting it.
Images flashed as she focused on the truth of it.
Corbin and Nell laughing by the fairy field.
Nell and Sierra talking by firelight as they journeyed to the ports.
Nell holding her sisters tightly before and after every trip.
Phoebe laughing and running to Nell.
The quiet knowing of Micah’s and Tristan’s expressions when the voice spoke from her.
They weren’t like her―no one was―but they loved her.
Peace flowed through her. Time lost its meaning. There was no pain at all. It seemed clear to her that even those who’d left this life were somehow with her still. She drifted into a quiet place in her mind, a place where her friends and family were safe and happy.
If she were to offer her soul, surely this is where it would be―in her happiest memories.
Great swells of calm and tranquility rose inside, making her gasp though her eyes stayed closed. Something lifted within her, something that seemed to want to stretch to the sky.
She’d always avoided it, this power, this feeling. It made her separate, made her other, but if the guardians were correct, there was a reason she’d lived through what her father hadn’t. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been chosen.
The air was silky smooth across her skin. The sky itself felt fluffy and soft, as if a warm blanket were laid across her to keep her safe. A new-felt joy covered Shane’s poison and held it steady. His toxin couldn’t hurt her through this rippling wave of power.
Quietness followed the peace until she was a simmering bowl of yes, content to hand over her deepest essence to the voice that had been dwelling within her. It seemed she could touch the stars and, for once, her ever-present anger and resentment were gone. She’d had a good life, after all. If she could keep Corbin and her family alive, she’d consider her life a worthy gift. But she still didn’t know how to hand over the soul demanded as payment.
A whicker broke the silence of her mind, and Nell’s eyes flashed open. Dawn had broken while she’d waited. Light streamed over the land. She staggered to her feet, eyes wide in the face of yet another impossible moment.
She knew if she had a mirror, her eyes would be dark pools from the magic rising, but flames would be dancing in them, reflected from the creature before her. A creature of legend―a windsteed.
ell had never seen anything so beautiful. The windsteed had the body of a pure white horse, down to its long flowing mane, but with eyes never seen on any horse, eyes the color of fire, orange encircled with deep burgundy. They actually flickered as if with flames, but Nell barely noticed. She was too busy staring at the huge wings curving up from the steed’s body, covered in countless flames of orange, red, yellow, and silver. Once again, a beast of myth unseen for generations was staring her in the face. Literally.
Soft warm breath puffed across her as the mare―for it was a mare―whickered and leaned closely, touching her velvet nose to Nell’s cheek.
A flurry of images raced across Nell’s mind, and she steadied herself without thinking by placing her hand on the beast. The images became even clearer.
She saw a throng of windsteeds, locked-away without enough magic of the sky to fully manifest themselves, unseen now but always there, trapped above the Tree of Life. This free-roaming magic had been long lost, with the small amounts remaining taken by the waking dragons and other creatures of the sky. Only the queen mare was strong enough to have escaped their prison, using all the magic of the combined herd in order to appear to Nell.
Corbin’s agonized plea came to her mind: Fly to the sword. She thought he’d been out of his mind with pain, but maybe he meant exactly what he’d said. He’d told her windsteeds were formed of the wind itself and could travel anywhere in an instant. Was he right?
The steed gazed into her eyes and nodded once. Nell blinked. She patted the creature’s neck instinctively, and again, images flowed between them, though not words. Images of Nell leaping on the mare’s back, flying to the mountain summit, just the two of them. The bars along her heart opened wider.
I thought you wanted my soul? Nell asked the voice within. Being with the windsteed was like being given a new soul instead.
At the end of your life, a piece of your soul will remain in the fiery sword, with us, as guardians and mentors to the next leader of the guardians. That is only if you accept the role as the first guardian of a new generation. The windsteeds were sworn to serve us, to take us acro
ss the world in a heartbeat, as needed. Their magic, as with all air magic, is capricious but powerful. Even dragons obey the windsteeds. Do you dare lead them?
Nell licked her lips. The windsteed stood steady, her long legs stock still. She blew out a breath that pushed Nell’s hair from her face and made her laugh.
“That’s what you think, huh? That I’m some kind of coward?”
She wanted nothing more than to jump on this creature and fly away to the sword and finish this battle to save Corbin and their world. But if she went alone without an explanation, the others would worry. Or worse. Corbin’s anger from their fight at the campfire haunted her.
The others long to serve with you, but in this, you are right: No one else can take on this mantle of responsibility. You are uniquely gifted for it. Will you do it, Nell? Will you serve Aluvia the rest of your life, leading others into service as guardians to restore Aluvia’s magic to its proper balance, ensuring it is not lost again? Answer quickly, before the darkness inside locks us from you once more. It’s spreading, Nell. You don’t have much time.
Nell stared into the flaming eyes of the steed before her. In those eyes, she imagined herself in this new possible future. Flying through the skies, wearing the red cloak from her memories, leading others with assurance, not reluctance. Healing the world, one small part at a time, the bearer of a glorious sword fit for any warrior. Keeping magic safe for the creatures that needed it and guarding it from those who would abuse it.
She might not be left alone in a quiet cabin in the woods or fighting as a hired swordswinger for her coin, but she’d be protecting others, an honorable mission. She’d be healing Aluvia in a new way. It was a life she could be proud of.
“I will,” she said, to the voice, the steed, and herself.
The windsteed gave a triumphant whinny and tossed her head, a clear invitation to climb on her back.
“But what is your name, beautiful one?” Nell asked, one hand pressed to the animal’s neck.
Brigid, came the combined voice of the guardian leaders, spoken with long-held affection and love. And Nell knew―these women spent their lives with the windsteed queen in service to Aluvia’s magic. They loved her still.
Which suggested this mare was very, very old. The mare whickered a sound suspiciously like a laugh. Nell eyed her, and then broke into a smile.
A warrior horse for a warrior. The whisper in her mind could have been her own, though it wasn’t. For once, Nell was in full agreement with the guardians.
She leaped lightly onto the back of the animal despite having never spent much time atop a horse. Brigid was reassuringly solid and warm, though her body seemed to contain the surging power of the wind itself. Now the memories of the many guardians before Nell guided her, making it easy for her to weave her hands into the silken mane. The windsteed’s flames did not hurt as Nell brushed against the wings, though she had no doubt they could hurt others if the steed so chose.
“Let’s go to my friends. I can’t leave them without a word,” Nell whispered.
The steed rose into the air, its wings sending huge gusts of fire on either side of her. Nell hadn’t traveled far―Brigid only soared the length of a lark’s tune before they landed at camp.
Sierra staggered out of the tent, and her jaw dropped. “What have you done this time?”
“I’ve found an answer, and you won’t like it. Corbin was right about the windsteeds, but only one is strong enough to come to us. I have to go to the mountaintop with her. With Brigid. She knew the guardians and will know where to take me.” Nell patted the beast’s neck with a loving familiarity, as though she had done so a thousand times before. And in a way, she had. With the rush from the windsteed connecting them, she and the other guardians were woven too tightly right now to discern which memory was whose.
“You can’t go alone! Are you crazy?”
“Maybe,” Nell said. “Take care of Corbin. He’ll be cured once I reach the Tree.”
“There has to be another way! Can’t the windsteed scare off the sprite?”
Nell laid her hand on the windsteed in question, but then shook her head.
“She barely has enough magic to get me where I need to go. I’ve got to get the sword to defeat Shane and his creatures. Sierra, the truth is, the poison he used on me is growing out of control. The voice says his magic has almost reached my heart. I couldn’t tell you before. I didn’t want Corbin to know I was being corrupted, but the guardians have warned me. If I fail, and if Shane turns me like the dragons and sprites, don’t let me hurt anyone. Kill me if you have to, and tell Corbin I’m so sorry, but I had to go.”
“You won’t give in.” Sierra jerked her chin as if daring Nell to say otherwise. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll do my best, but I’ll feel better if I know you’ll be keeping an eye on me to make sure.”
Sierra lowered her head in agreement. “I’ll be on watch. But Corbin’s going to kill me if anything happens to you.”
“I can’t promise anything, but you know I’ll never go down without a fight.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Sierra muttered. But she took two steps back and promised, “I’ll explain where you are.”
That was all the confirmation Nell needed. If she saw Corbin’s pain-filled face again, she wouldn’t have the courage to do what needed to be done. And she always did what was needed.
“To the summit!” she cried out before she could think too carefully about her choice. The answer she’d needed had arrived with wings of fire.
Together, Nell and Brigid rose straight into the air, the giant wings fanning gusts of hot wind, creating summertime in the middle of winter. The steed gave another triumphant whicker, and suddenly the sky and the icy world around them disappeared. The windsteed and Nell winked out of existence.
The whole world stood still. Nell was in utter blackness. Her breath was loud in her ears, and her pulse stormed through her veins. She had a second to wonder if they’d somehow gotten lost in nothingness before the world reappeared without a sound. For the span of a heartbeat, reality stretched languidly and then snapped back into focus.
She shook back her coat’s hood to look around and lost her breath. Surely she was on the edge of the entire world. Dotted clouds clung to snowy mountain peaks behind them. Before her, the summit ended at the sharp edge of a cliff.
A salty tinge wove through the air courtesy of the sea beyond the cliff. A steady wind kept the cliff clear of clouds, leaving the ocean visible to the horizon, dotted with icebergs.
But another shock awaited her. Near the cliff soared a tree that had been cloaked from their view during their journey, hiding above the clouds. It had to be the Tree of Life. As thick around as Nell’s healing cabin and taller than the tenements in Port Ostara, its knobby roots dipped up and out of the ground like burrowing snakes. The Tree―surely a better name existed for such a thing―reached needle-thin dark-brown branches into the blue sky, piercing the brightness with spiny fingers. Not a single leaf clung to the branches, and the limbs did not wave in the gusting wind. A large rock formation sat off to one side.
The windsteed landed softly, folding its wings along its flanks, but Nell remained astride. Something wasn’t right with the picture before her. The wind blew hard again, here at the top of the world, but the Tree stood frozen in place.
Frozen. That was it. It was truly frozen. The branches didn’t move because a layer of ice encrusted every part of the tree, down to the base. And then Nell’s eyes widened. At the base, deep in thick ice and snow, a sword handle stuck out at an angle. The handle was gold, and the blade was half-hidden within the frozen snow mound.
The blade.
“That’s the sword we’ve been searching for?” she asked the guardians, speaking aloud to help keep her mind separate from theirs. But silence had descended, the curtains closing between her and the voice.
The sword didn’t look fiery. It looked drab, cold, hidden
away. Perhaps its magic was extinguished.
But maybe she could change that, if she truly had magic inside her like the guardians seemed to believe.
She took a deep breath. With a world as vast as this, anything seemed possible. Then a nearby pile of snowy boulders shifted with a loud creak, and her muscles tensed without thought. A rockslide would crush them.
Without having to be asked, Brigid jumped into the air, leaving Nell’s stomach momentarily behind. The rocks continued to expand, stretch, reach into the sky, until suddenly the strange shapes resolved themselves into their true form.
An ice giant.
Corbin had spoken of them, and she’d heard stories of them growing up, much like dragons. Be good or the ice giants will come for you. She’d always assumed people had been exaggerating the horrors of the creature, but for once, the stories had it right.
The ice giant looked like a moving, connected pile of rocks, with hunks of ice and hoar frost rimming its rough-hewn face. Mist from its gaping maw left a vapor trail around its head like smoke. Blue glacier eyes burned brighter than a smith’s forge. Chest plates of ice armor covered a torso that looked to be made of steel-gray boulders. The giant’s thick legs were like tree trunks, wrapped in animal skins.
It roared as loud as a dragon. Drool dripped from its chin and froze mid-drop. The sharp teeth left no doubt this was a hunter. Right now, she was its intended prey.
“You have invaded my home.” Its voice held the rumbling sounds of an approaching blizzard.
A cold wind gusted sharp against her face. The flames of her windsteed wavered but kept burning. Nell was glad. She had a feeling they would need them.
“Who are you?” Nell reached for her bow and arrows. Corbin said ice giants weren’t supposed to be evil, but this one sure looked it.
“I am your death,” the giant said with a snarl.
“I don’t think so. I’m just here for the sword.”