by Tara West
Oh, heavenly Elements, Madhea was coming to Ice Kingdom.
Chapter Three
Dianna’s group got off to a rough start. The dwarves denied entrance to Alec’s blue friend until he’d asked the dwarves for forgiveness for wrongly accusing them of theft shortly before he’d been captured by Eris’s soldiers. Ryne was a proud man, holding his head high and walking with confidence. The dwarves had made him kneel, apologizing to at least thirty of them individually before they’d let him pass into the hold. For such a man to have been brought so low was quite shocking. Even more shocking was that Ryne endured the humiliation without so much as a sneer. In the short time she’d gotten to know him, she’d discovered he seemed to prefer giving dark looks to smiles.
The hold was a veritable town, with several thatched cottages offering fresh rushes, cozy beds, and warm blankets. Clean cobblestone paths lined with flowers of every color wound between the cottages. There was even a well in the center of town, the water tasting as fresh as if it had come straight from the Danae River. These temporary shelters were far better maintained than Dianna’s modest home. Given such furnishings, she wondered how lavishly the dwarves must live within the walls of Aya-Shay. What she wouldn’t give for a peek.
The king may have been inhospitable and unwelcoming at their first meeting, but he sent servants with enough food for an army of giants, including pies of every flavor. Though King Furbald only stayed long enough to bark orders at a cluster of young dwarf servants, many of the dwarves and a few more giants came to the hold to celebrate Eris’s demise. After the sun dipped behind the horizon, everyone gathered at a campfire near the well in the center of the town surrounded by carved wooden chairs and benches. They listened attentively while Grim regaled them with tales of their adventure, starting with their imprisonment on Eris’s ship. With each new development, dwarves hooted and hollered and drank in honor of “the heroes who vanquished the sea witch.” They drank not the wine given to the guests but something much stronger, for their bulbous noses and cheeks turned a brighter crimson with each swallow. By the time Grim ended his story with Eris’s island volcano exploding in a maelstrom of ash and smoke, the dwarves were so tipsy, many had fallen over on their sides or were draped across their giant children’s feet.
Dianna stared incredulously at one dwarf who vomited into the fire, then took a swallow of his drink before vomiting again. As he stumbled back to his bench, his black beard peppered with angry embers, he let out a hearty belch, and flames engulfed his beard. He ran in circles, yelping like a wounded dog, before a giant doused him with a tub of water.
A cluster of staggering dwarves gathered enough wits to pick up their instruments and play lively music. They danced circles around the fire with Grim leading them. When the giants sitting outside the perimeter tapped their feet to the music, the ground shook, and the dwarves laughed, stumbling into each other.
As the wine flowed, it went straight to Dianna’s head, and she leaned against Simeon’s side for support, hating herself for loving the warmth radiating off his body. She didn’t remember when, but sometime during the night, his arm found its way around her shoulders. She hadn’t realized he’d been holding her until she caught Ryne scowling at them from across the campfire. She thought about shrugging Simeon off, but fool that she was, she didn’t want him to let go.
Alec sat on the bench beside her, helping Des steady a stick with an impaled sausage above the campfire. After being overcome with exhaustion from practicing using her new legs all afternoon, Alec’s love interest, Mari, had already retired to bed. Dianna inwardly smiled, watching her two brothers’ heads bent toward one another. Alec’s patience with Des made her love her half-brother even more. Then joy turned to sadness when she realized Alec and Des would be dead within a blink of her immortal eye, and she’d be forced to live out her long life without family. She did her best to push back the rising tide of melancholy. This night wasn’t the time for sadness. It was meant for celebration.
Throughout the night, she caught herself calling Alec her brother. Des didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps he was too young to understand the nature of their relationship. She was thankful for that, for she dreaded having to tell Des that she was not his sister, that his true sister had been murdered by Madhea.
She stumbled to her feet, balance impaired.
“Are you all right?” Simeon stood, steadying her by the elbow.
“I’m fine.” She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that permeated her mind. “I just need to relieve myself.” She smiled at Simeon, shrugging out of his grip, then staggered toward the bushes.
“You don’t need to use the bushes, my dear.” Zier’s wife, Zelda, stopped her at the edge of the forest. “We dwarves are better hosts than that.” The older woman led her to a long log hut.
Inside was a humid room lit with wall sconces and a pleasing glow from a stone hearth. Three deep, round wooden barrels must have been baths, for each one had a narrow table beside it offering linens, soaps, and more candles. Along one side of the room was a long table with basins and jugs of water. Three pretty looking glasses hung above each basin. Opposite were four stalls with wooden doors intricately carved with cotulla flowers. Zelda nodded to the nearest stall, and Dianna stumbled inside. She’d rather wished she hadn’t looked inside the hole, for she realized too late she was in an outhouse. How odd that it was located in the bathing room. Mayhap that was the reason for all of the candles, which put off the pleasant scents of lavender and sage.
When she finished, she washed up in the basins, watching Zelda’s reflection in the looking glass. The dwarf woman gazed at her with a look that Dianna hoped was one of interest and not suspicion. The older woman was somewhat smaller than the male dwarves and had long auburn braids peppered with white and gray streaks, striking vivid blue eyes, a button nose, and a pleasant, dimpled smile. In fact, her face was so fair and sweet, she imagined that many men had once competed for her hand. Her countenance was serene as she leaned beside a wall sconce, candle wax dripping precariously close to her feet. Dianna hardly knew Zelda, but the woman had such a pleasant personality, it was hard not to quickly become fond of her.
“I want to thank you for looking after Des in my absence.” Dianna dried her hands on the linen beside the basin. “I know children his age can sometimes be challenging, and I am more grateful to you than words can express.”
“It was no trouble at all.” The woman waved away Dianna’s concern. “I miss caring for children now that my twin daughters are grown and have moved so far away.”
“That’s right.” Dianna remembered Zier speaking fondly of his girls when he visited her parents. He’d always brought lace for them and toys for their children. “They live in Kicelin now, don’t they?”
“Yes.” The old woman’s gaze dropped to the wood plank floor. “They fell in love with human twin brothers while accompanying their father on a trade mission. It has been five years since they left home.” She released a heavy sigh. “But it feels like a lifetime.”
She sympathized with Zelda, for she knew the pain of missing a loved one. When she’d first left Des to fly to the Shifting Sands, she felt as if she’d been forced to carve out a piece of her heart, leaving it behind with Des while the dull blade remained lodged in her chest.
“How often do you see them?”
“Not often enough.” She frowned. “They have babies of their own, and the trek up to Kicelin is much too arduous for me. What I wouldn’t give to have them live here, to watch my grandchildren grow, but King—” Zelda’s eyes widened as she bit down on her knuckles, then turned her back.
Dianna wondered why Zelda was afraid to speak her mind about the king. Did she hold her tongue out of respect, or did she fear retaliation? She surmised the king wouldn’t allow the women’s families to live within the walls of Aya-Shay because their husbands were humans. But why?
“Would it be so bad to have a few humans living within your walls? Couldn’t the king make some exc
eptions?”
“He has his reasons.” Zelda wiped her cheeks, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she pulled back her shoulders. “’Tis a sad tale that I do not wish to repeat.”
Heat flamed Dianna’s face. She felt ten times a fool for asking Zelda such an insensitive question. “I’m sorry.”
The older woman patted her hand. “No worries, dear.”
She followed Zelda out of the hut, not surprised when she bolted for Zier, no doubt wanting to put distance between herself and Dianna’s questions.
Though night had fallen, the grounds were alight with bright torches. Dianna’s head was still swimming, her world slightly off kilter. When she spied the long buffet table laden with food, her stomach instantly roiled, then calmed. Great Goddess, she was hungry enough to eat a full stag! When she’d first arrived at the hold, she’d only had a few bites of fruit and one meat pie, for she’d been too eager to spend time with her little brother. She’d wrapped him in furs, taking him for a ride on Lydra’s back, soaking up his squeals and laughter as Lydra chased Tan’yi’na through the clouds and across the ocean. They’d only recently returned to the celebration, where the dwarves toasted in her honor, refilling her goblet so many times, she’d lost count.
She piled a platter with berry and meat pies, strange pickled vegetables of every color, roasted meats, and fruits with cream and biscuits. She hadn’t even made it halfway down the table, and already her platter overflowed with food.
She sat at a table away from the others, behind a copse of trees, not wanting Simeon to see her devour her meal. She feared she’d look more like a siren picking a mortal’s bones clean than the delicate Shifting Sand’s girls with the painted toenails, who nibbled their palma fruits like rabbits eating corn while shooting him coy looks.
She ate so fast, she hardly tasted it. She just knew it was all delicious. The pickled vegetables had a sweet and salty taste, so pleasing that once her platter was clean, she loaded her plate with more, sucking vinegar off her fingers after she’d finished. She belched into her fist, doing her best to muffle the sound. Had it been just she and Des, they would have made a competition out of it, one in which Dianna would let her brother win but not without a good fight. But that was before she’d discovered she was the daughter of a goddess. She feared her days of living carefree were over.
“Why do you call Alec your brother when he is not your brother?”
Her heart caught in her throat when Des emerged from the shadows. “Oh, I-I—”
“I heard Zelda and Zier talking when they thought I was asleep.” He gazed at her with innocent, dark eyes. “Zier said he believes our parents weren’t your parents, and that you were Madhea’s daughter.”
She swallowed a lump of apprehension when she realized she’d no choice but to tell her brother the truth. She prayed to the Elements he’d be understanding and their bond wouldn’t be diminished. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She beckoned him to sit on the bench beside her. She rubbed his shorn hair, kissing the top of his head. “But ’tis true. The Elementals switched me with your true sister at birth, something I only just learned.” She arched back with bated breath, fearing his response.
He swallowed, a visible knot working its way down his throat. “So you are not my sister then?”
She placed a palm across her chest. “In my heart I will always be your sister, and you will always be my little brother. I was there the night you were born. Papa was hunting when Mama birthed you. She’d said you came too early. She was in so much pain, I feared I’d lose you both.” She stopped to regain her composure, close to breaking down at the thought of her sweet mama and brave papa, both lost to her and Des in an avalanche two winters past. What she wouldn’t give to have them back with her. “’Twas when my magic had begun to bloom. I laid my hands on Mama’s womb to ease the pain and delivered you myself. I was the first person to hold you. You were a perfect little mite with chubby cheeks and a cry that could shatter ice. You had thick, dark hair even then.” Though tears streamed down her face, she smiled, rubbing her brother’s hair again. “I’d never known love like the moment I first held you. Don’t you see? My soul knows no difference. You were my brother then, and you will always be my brother.”
He stared at her a long moment, his face scrunched up so tight, she feared he’d forgotten how to breathe. Then he let out a wail, launching himself into her arms. “Oh, Dianna, I love you so.”
She sobbed as she rocked him, singing a song their mama had sung to them each night.
“Hush baby mite,
Sleep tonight.
Tomorrow cotullas will bloom anew, anew.
Rest little fawn,
And after dawn,
The flowers will be ripe with dew, with dew.
Close your eyes.
When you rise,
Mama will pick them for you, for you.”
His sobbing subsided, and she thought he’d fallen asleep. But then he jerked with a start, looking at her with a trembling lip. “What happened to my other sister?”
Siren’s teeth! She’d feared he’d ask that question. She willed her limbs to stop shaking. “Madhea killed her.”
He let out a strangled cry, his hand flying to his mouth. “Oh, no!”
“Des, I’m so sorry.”
His face turned as red as the lava that flowed from Eris’s volcano. “The ice witch is evil.”
She let out a slow breath, willing the tears to subside. “I agree, which is why she needs to be stopped.”
“But she’s powerful.” Des jumped to his feet, clenching his hands. “She’ll destroy you, and then I won’t have any sisters.”
“I am not without power, and I have three magical stones.” She patted her pocket. Though they had been silent since she’d arrived at the dwarf village, they were also warmer than before, buzzing with magic. No doubt the sisters were getting reacquainted in their silent language. “Hopefully, I’ll have three more soon.” If she could persuade the Ice People to relinquish them, though Ryne had told her she’d have better luck stealing a rib bone from a siren’s mouth.
“Come.” Dianna stood, brushing crumbs off her breeches, shocked at the mess she’d made. “Let us return to the merriment. Alec is probably looking for you.”
He slipped his warm, sticky hand into hers. “If he’s your brother, can I call him my brother, too?”
Warmth flooded her heart. “I’m sure he’d like that.”
The music came to a screeching stop. She feared she’d somehow offended the dwarves with her long absence until she heard a commotion behind Gorpat. The giant stood with lifted foot, revealing a party of ragtag dwarves and humans huddling in the shadows behind her.
Zier pushed his way through the crowd like the prow of a ship, his brows drawn together. “Who goes there?”
“It is your daughter Sofla, Papa.” One of the dwarves stepped forward, a fair young woman cradling a babe in her arms. “And your other daughter Sogred.” She nodded to a woman who was without a doubt her identical twin, for she had the same button nose, alabaster skin, and thick, fiery curls. The only thing that made it possible to tell them apart was that one wore a brown dress, the other a mossy green. “And our families.” She nodded to two human men, twins as well, with blond hair and wiry frames. The men were short for humans, only about two heads taller than their wives. One of the men had two flame-haired tots in tattered trews clinging to his leg.
“Sofla! Sogred!” Zelda raced through the dwarves, who parted to let her through. “Oh, my grandchildren!” She pulled the women, who each carried an identical infant, to her ample bosom. “What has happened?” She kissed each infant on the forehead. “Why have you left your homes?”
When the toddlers left their father’s knees and held their hands up to Zelda, she swooped them into her arms, kissing their grimy faces.
“Mama,” Sofla said. “We barely escaped with our lives.”
Sogred nodded, tears streaming down her dirt-stained face. “All of Kicelin ha
s turned to ice. Everything is coated with frost, and we cannot make fires to melt it.”
Sofla shivered, pulling a threadbare shawl tightly around her shoulders. “I’ve never known such bone-numbing cold.”
“Mama,” Sogred added, “we’ve come with nothing but the clothes on our backs.”
Zelda gasped, rocking the toddlers on her hips. “You must be famished.”
“We are.” Sofla heaved a sigh before passing the infant in her arms to her father. “And tired.”
“Your families can come live with us,” Zier said as he took the other infant from Sogred. “We have plenty of room. I will appeal to the king.”
“You need not appeal to your sovereign,” a deep voice bellowed. “You know the rules, Zier Wanderson.”
Dianna squinted as the king came into view, perched on the shoulder of his giant son, regally holding his chin up high and clutching his staff in a white-knuckled grip.
“King Furbald,” Zier pleaded, his voice cracking, “these are my children. They are dwarves, and by right deserve to live within the walls of Aya-Shay.”
“Aye, your daughters have that right.” The king glared at the crowd of refugees. “But their husbands and half-breeds do not.”
Though Dianna wasn’t shocked by the king’s decision, she was disappointed. What had made the king hate humans so?
Zier’s cheeks and nose turned bright red, like three over-ripe, bulbous apples. “I don’t understand why giants can live within the walls but my son-in-laws and grandchildren cannot.”
The king snarled. “A giant’s angry fist cuts a smaller path of destruction than the cunning of man.”
Such an interesting metaphor. She wondered if ’twas true. If man had wreaked so much destruction. Perhaps some human catastrophe had turned the king against them.
“Not all men are like Eris’s and Madhea’s soldiers!” Zier’s booming voice made the infants cry, making his daughters quickly scoop the babies from their father’s embrace.