Heart of the Winterland

by Kristen Kooistra

  Cali’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, then cleared as she realized her error. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. My mind turned back to Amee’s story and I was wondering how you knew the history of Trabor.”

  Voice’s glow flashed bright yellow, before fading to a dim green. “Oh, that. I am a magical orb created by a spell designed to protect and raise you. Also, there is the extensive magical studying I did over the years.”

  She just changed color! Cali kept her surprise from showing and rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”

  Angel smirked. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Voice’s glow flashed a deep red. “You cannot expect me to know where my knowledge comes from on all things. When the spell created me, I did not start as a babe with no functioning skills or information.” She floated to the bunk opposite them. “The spell stuck me in a world with no one but a child for company. I had a lot of questions and time. What I did not know, I used magic to discover.”

  On a small level, Cali felt guilty for angering Voice, but the question had been eating at her for some time.

  “I did not mean to attack you, Voice.”

  Angel straightened, edging Cali upright. “That’s considered an attack? Someday you two should live my life.”

  Voice’s glow switched to a light pink. “You are right, Angel. It was not an attack, but a perfectly logical question. I must confess this storm has me on edge.”

  As if on cue, thunder shook the ship and filled the room with its rumbling.

  “Will you tell us more of the story while we wait?” Cali shifted her feet onto the bunk, sticking them behind Angel and flopping down onto the musty pillow.

  “I suppose it would help pass the time.”

  “I can’t believe Amee cursed your kingdom with eternal winter. How droll.” Angel leaned back on her hands, accidentally squishing Cali’s legs. “Sorry.”

  Cali moved her legs. “Never-ending snow and impenetrable borders. That explains the snowline and why no one’s ever entered Trabor.” Her gut twisted with a sudden thought. If the borders are impenetrable, how did we get out? Better yet, how will we get back in?

  Do I even want to go back?

  Voice began, “Amee had the knowledge she wanted. Raina’s magic was no match for hers. The borders were secure and snow covered the land.”

  Cali broke in as another question tumbled through her mind. “Wait, so did Amee have purple eyes?”

  Voice sighed. “Yes, she did, though she tried to deny it.”

  “That means she was the Sjadian heir and that makes her my . . .” Cali’s lips pursed as she calculated. “My mother’s cousin.”

  “The fact that someone happens to possess the same physical trait as a long-lost heir to a distant kingdom does not make them that person. It is quite a jump in logic, really,” Voice said, in her nonsense-Cali-you-silly-child tone.

  Cali mumbled into her pillow, “It’s possible.”

  Voice didn’t ask her to repeat the comment.

  “Now, Amee rode back to the castle, albeit much slower than her last trip. The snow hampered her progress, but she was also enjoying the cold air filling her lungs, the tingle of snowflakes on her skin, and a brisk wind sharpening her senses. Her other reason for the slow pace was not quite so pleasant.”

  ❄❄❄

  “It’s the witch! This is all her doing!”

  The cries surrounded Amee as she rode past a field of workers desperately trying to save a crop of wheat from the sudden winter.

  For most, the cries and pointed fingers preceded fleeing. A few brave, or rather foolish, souls grabbed hoes and jabbed them threateningly in Amee’s direction.

  “The king will not stand for this. You’ve darkened this kingdom long enough!”

  Amee ignored them and rode on. This close to her forest, most of the people believed in her existence, or at least had heard tales of her presence. The sudden winter no doubt brought legitimacy to such stories. As for identifying her as a witch . . .

  She flexed a gloved hand and smoothed it over her tyrian purple jacket. Clothing spells were a favorite of hers. The jacket ended at her waist in the front, but draped almost to her feet on the sides and the back. Black leather leggings, elbow length gloves, and tall boots completed the look.

  If that did not declare her a sorceress, the ebony locks and viol—no, brown eyes would. Traborians had long ago decided anyone different from themselves was an abomination. Truly, it was not a stretch to think they’d assume this dark, foreign-looking woman in her equally dark clothing was the sorceress.

  Yes, she was dressed to impart fear and it appeared to be working.

  Of course. She gave a deep laugh. The long staff of dark wood strapped to her back might be helping her image. The carved wood formed an elegant nest at the tip which held a brilliant green gem. Amee had discovered the jewel amongst the former keeper’s treasures.

  Though she had yet to discover the depths of its magical properties, its capacity to be filled with her own power rendered it priceless. She had spent months carefully siphoning her magic into the stone, storing it for a time when she would have need of a power surge.

  Snow continued to fall as she rode. People rushed to save their crops and bring their animals inside. For now, this was nothing more than a freak snowstorm. As time went on, they’d all see it was not going away. The kingdom was ill-prepared for this winter.

  She would give it some time. In due course, they would know why their kingdom was so cursed. And as their families continued to suffer and it became known that the winter would stay until the royal family died, they would secretly hope for their monarchs’ deaths.

  ❄❄❄

  The journey came to an end a few days later when she blasted through the castle gates. Simpletons, trying to bar her entrance.

  Guards rushed her, swords drawn. Archers poured onto the ramparts, aiming at her.

  She pulled the staff from her back and wrapped her hands around it. “Pau!” The carvings blazed to life, trailing up the staff to the gem, which shone forth with a light so strong it illuminated the entire courtyard.

  The soldiers froze. Their swords and bows cleaved to their hands. Strain etched across their faces as they struggled to move. Feet locked. Bodies stiff. Nothing moved but a few twitching muscles.

  Amee slid from the saddle, the courtyard eerily quiet as she made her way to the palace door. At the top of the steps, she faced her silent would-be attackers.

  “Everything you are suffering and everything you will suffer, know that it is the fault of your king and his harlot queen.”

  She shoved the door open and swept through it, leaving behind enough power to hold the men’s feet in place. Shouts rose but were quickly muffled as the door shut behind her.

  Her footsteps echoed in the entrance hall. Lights flickered in the chandelier overhead, mingling with the glow of candles along the walls. Before her rose a grand staircase.

  Amee extended her hand, reaching for the lines of power that lay in the fabric of the air. Which direction? A red line snaked through the air, leading from Amee’s hand into the darkness beyond the door to the right. The throne room it was then.

  She released the line, letting it dissipate until it was no longer visible.

  Her boots thudded against the marble floor and reverberated in her ears. The halls were void of life. Someone must have seen her performance in the bailey and alerted the castle dwellers. Let them hide. Her business was with the cowards hiding close ahead. She smiled as she stopped before the great oaken doors of the throne room. Probably barred from the inside.

  She lifted her staff and touched the tip to the door. “Hama.” The door groaned as if reluctant to move. Then with a horrible cracking sound, the door gave up its fight. It exploded inward and slammed into the walls.

  In the center of the room, sword drawn, stood Falan. Behind him, eyes wide with fear, cowered Raina and the babe.

  Amee shifted her staff to
her left hand, letting her right drop to her side as she paraded into the room. Steps slow and calculated, her eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

  “After all these years I come to visit my old friend and this is the reception I get?” Her voice a delicate balance between pouty and sultry. “Falan, I really am disappointed in you. Did your mother not raise you better?” She walked along the edge of the room, tracing her hand over the ornate woodwork.

  Raina clutched her child closer, her voice high. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  Amee stopped. “You don’t remember me? I’m crushed.” She splayed a hand across her chest dramatically.

  Falan turned, keeping himself between Amee and his family. Face grim and lips tight, he did not respond.

  “Falan, what does she mean? Do I know this woman?” Raina’s accusatory tone was at odds with the panic on her face.

  Falan’s hands shifted on the sword. Amee continued her path along the wall until she reached the pair of thrones. She climbed the steps, settling herself into Falan’s. She propped her elbow on the arm of it and rested her chin on her hand. Waiting.

  “What do you want, Amee?”

  “Ah, so you do remember me. How sweet.”

  Falan brandished the sword in her direction, his voice tight. “I have yet to meet another with hair of ebony and eyes of—” He stopped and squinted at her. “Your eyes have changed.” For a second, the old Falan was back. His tone curious; his face soft, but now she could see the underlying greed, the need to possess something unique. Bile coated her throat.

  Amee clenched the staff and drew on her magic to produce the glamour that had lain in secret over her eyes all those years. She had forgotten it was off.

  The change shook Falan from his greedy study of her eyes. “You are not welcome here, witch.”

  She straightened in the throne and leaned back into its embrace. “So cruel, and to think we used to be such good friends.”

  His cheek twitched, but he ignored her remark. “You’ve cursed this land.”

  “Ah, my snow. Do you like it?” Amee adopted a cheerful tone, pretending naïveté.

  “Your snow is hurting my people and the longer it stays the more it will affect them.”

  Amee waved her hand airily. “Surely you do not care about commoners and their problems. I do not recall you caring about me.” She paused and lifted a finger. “Oh, of course, silly me. In this case, their problems hurt you.”

  She rose from the throne and dropped all pretense of civility. Her words filled the room, crashing like thunder. “I think it is time, my king, that you felt true suffering. The pain of having those you love stripped from you. Pain like mine.” The lines on the staff lit up, crackling with the same energy that coursed through her body. “You have had your fun. Your precious wife.” She spit the words. “A darling child to inherit your kingdom. Now it is my turn to get what I want.”

  Falan stood his ground, raising the sword with both hands. “Commoners are made to suffer. I am not to blame for the class you were born into. What does your pain have to do with me?” Frustration laced his words.

  “You used me. I poured my life into following you around like a devoted dog. Why didn’t you just leave me alone? You are a selfish being unfit to be king,” Amee screamed, a wind rising from nowhere to whip her dark locks about her. “Do you even know that my parents are dead?”

  Falan shrugged casually. “The lives of servants matter little.”

  Amee’s vision darkened. “Maybe not to you, but to me they were everything. You are the only thing that matters to you. I was too blind to see it, but no more.”

  Amee slammed her staff against the ground. Green sparks arced from the tip towards the ceiling. “In four months time, I shall return and take everything from you.” She strode down the steps that led from the throne and swept past the stunned family. Just as she was about to leave, Falan’s shout drew her up short.

  “Why not now? Why wait? Maybe you are not as powerful as you would have me think.” Filled with spite though they were, the words were exactly what Amee wanted to hear. She turned, letting the wind die down.

  “So you will waste your last few months preparing for my return. Instead of enjoying your family while you have them, you will falsely think you can destroy me.” Her voice rose as she gained momentum. “Send your soldiers after me, burn my forest, fortify your castle! Train your men! Squander your time with those fruitless attempts. And in the end it will be for naught and I shall return to enact my wrath on you and yours.”

  She spun and exited the room.

  “You won’t get away with this! I will find a way to stop you! This has just beg—” The doors swung shut, cutting off Falan’s screams of rage.

  Amee stormed from the castle and released the soldiers after she and Benoni thundered through the gates.

  Benoni galloped through the fresh powder, heading for an empty hill. Amee erased their tracks as they went, until they crossed the line that hid her childhood home. Let them search the border forest. Even if they managed to get far, they would not find her. She would wait in the house on the hill, watching the palace and the chaos that was sure to ensue.

  In four months, it would all be over.

  Chapter 23

  Darkness permeated the cabin and the feeble lantern swinging from the center did little to illuminate the space. The door burst open. A dark figure, water dripping off its frame, loomed in the shadowy hallway.

  “I’m afraid lassies that we hae a problem.” Captain Rebol stepped into the room, removing his hat and shaking the water from it.

  Cali let out a deep breath. “The storm?”

  “There is that. It is turnin’ intae a monster ay a tempest.” He plunked the hat on his head and proceeded to wring out his cloak. “Ah was referrin’ tae a ship that, apparently, has been followin’ us fer a couple of days.” A disgruntled look crossed his face. “Kileah had mentioned it a few times, but Ah told ‘er that ‘er arse was out th’ windae.”

  Cali opened her mouth to ask what that meant, but Captain Rebol plunged on. “Thes st’rm must be makin’ them anxious nae tae lose us. They hae abandoned all stealth an’ can now be seen plainly.”

  Angel leaned towards Cali and whispered, “He said we have a ship following and he told Kileah she was imagining things, but now it’s close and he can see it.”

  Cali whispered back, “Thanks, sometimes I don’t understand what he’s saying.”

  “Are ye two done yammerin’?” Captain Rebol crossed his arms and glared at them.

  “Sorry, Captain,” Cali said.

  He grunted. “Ah am nae sure what trouble ye are runnin’ from, but I’m willin’ tae bet diamonds tae haggis that whatever it is—”He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder“—that ship is here cuz ay it.”

  Cali glanced at Angel and Voice. It can’t be. “You don’t think . . .”

  Voice jumped in as Cali trailed off. “Of course not.”

  Angel stared at the far wall of the cabin, her eyes distant. Cali touched her hand. “Angel?”

  Angel turned to Cali. Slowly she seemed to return to herself. “I do think. I know enough about Kota to know she won’t give up.”

  Leaping to her feet, Cali said, “Well, what are we to do? Kota can’t have Angel. It’s not even an option.”

  Captain Rebol looked between the three, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes thoughtful. He finally spoke, determination in every muscle and word. “Kileah wouldn’t loch it if someone took away ‘er favorite passenger.”

  Cali choked back a laugh and Angel’s face twisted into a sour expression.

  Rebol smiled. “We can’t outrun th’ ship, but if they come lookin’ fer a barnie, we’ll gie them one.” He turned to leave. “It might be best if ye all bide below.”

  Voice moved forward, glowing an angry red. “I will join you. Neither this storm nor Kota can harm me. You could use another pair of eyes, figuratively speaking.”

  The two exited the room, leaving Cali and Angel
in the dim, rocking cabin. Time dragged as the ship pitched and the waves slapped against the sides. Both girls were silent, letting the roll of thunder wash over them. The lantern went out, plunging them into darkness.

  Images of dying, either by Kota’s hands or from the sea, raced through Cali’s head. Fear welled up inside, threatening to bury her in blind panic.

  “Cali, we’ll be okay.” Angel’s hand found hers. The darkness didn’t ease, but Cali’s fear abated.

  “I’m glad you’re with us,” Cali whispered.

  “I’m glad I decided to stick with you two guppies.”

  Cali shifted on the lumpy mattress. “Guppies?”

  A flash of lightning illuminated the room as Angel released her hand and turned toward her. “Silly fish. When I met you, there you were all dressed up in your pretty white dress in your fancy carriage. Eyes popping out of your head, staring at me as if you’d never seen another human before.”

  Cali laughed. “I hadn’t!”

  “Well, I know that now. But at the time you were both strange guppies.”

  Thunder shook the cabin, but now it wasn’t so scary. Cali thought about everything that had happened so far: The people she had met, the places she’d been.

  Angel’s voice broke into Cali’s thoughts. “I really hate being cag—” A loud crack split the air above deck. Faint yells from the crew filtered down.

  Cali leapt to her feet at the noise, Angel right beside her. “What was that?”

  Angel brushed past her and headed for the door. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  “We’re supposed to stay down here,” Cali said weakly.

  “You can stay here if you like, but if something is happening, I want to know.” Angel yanked the door open and disappeared into the corridor.

  The minutes dragged by as Cali listened to the yells above her and debated what to do. She bit her lip and jerked the blanket off her shoulders. “Angel, wait!” She dashed out the cabin door and slid into the opposite wall as the ship listed to one side.

  She felt her way down the passage, arms spread to brace herself as the ship’s pitching increased. When at last she reached the ladder, she dove for it, clutching the rungs and immediately getting a face full of rain. The ladder was slick, making it difficult for Cali to keep her footing.