FrostFire

by Zoe Marriott

  “Then my mother never made a bargain with the Other god. She didn’t give away my soul. The spirit of the Demon Wolf is inside me,” I whispered. “That’s what causes the rage. Luca was right; it is a part of me.”

  “Not only the Wolf. I am with you too, Saram.”

  I whirled to see a silvery light in the shape of a man stepping through the golden blue flames. Within the shape, a black shadow – the Wolf – shifted and struggled. The dark stain inside the light was larger than it had been in the vision, and the veins of darkness were more like ropes than threads.

  But I didn’t look at the darkness for long. My hands were reaching out of their own volition.

  “Father?”

  The silvery shape solidified slowly. Colours and textures – skin and hair, leather and fur – gradually deepened and rippled over the light, clothing the translucent form until it exactly resembled the man I had just seen die.

  My father stood before me.

  He opened his arms and I went into them, my head coming to rest on his massive chest. One giant hand cradled the back of my neck. He smelled of snow, and sunshine, and wet wolf pelt, and of … of father.

  I buried my face in the soft fur of his coat and cried.

  “I have always been with you,” he said, his voice rumbling against my ear. “Always watching over you. But until the Lady spoke to me, I was too entwined with the Wolf to protect you from it. I could not tell where it began and I ended. When I saw blood – my baby girl’s blood – through your eyes I could not control myself, or it. I had to fight, had to protect you. And every time I lost control it grew stronger, feeding on my fear and anger. I am sorry. You have suffered so much for my weakness.”

  I clutched at his coat as if I would never let go. “No,” I said, my voice clogged and distorted with tears. “I have lived because of your strength. Thank you, Father. Thank you for staying with me. Thank you for my life.”

  “Listen now,” Garin said, putting me away from him a little. “My Lady has something to say to you.”

  Twenty-seven

  You have a choice to make, the flaming voice – the Mother’s voice – said. Your father gave you life, but the price of that life was the curse you bore. For many years now, the strength of the Wolf has been all that allowed your father’s spirit to cling to you. I can release the Wolf and return him to his master – but if I do, it will also release your father’s spirit. And without that, your body will die.

  “No,” my father growled.

  The other choice is to continue as you have been. In that case, the control of the beast will fall to your father, just as it always has.

  I stared up into Da’s grey eyes that were almost identical to my own. “What kind of choice is this? If I ask you to break the curse I’ll die, and abandon my friends, and everyone I love. But if I ask you to let me live, I will be binding my own father’s soul to suffering, and I will still be a monster.”

  Da’s face twisted. “Hush! You are nothing like a monster. The rage isn’t your doing, it’s mine. The beast feeds on my anger and fear. Perhaps My Lady can help me to be stronger, to control myself better.”

  “Da, you can’t wish to be trapped in this … this half-life. My mother is waiting for you in the next world. It isn’t right.”

  He hesitated for only a second before he answered. “You are my daughter. It’s no torment to be with you.”

  “You’re as bad a liar as I am,” I muttered.

  How could I choose the fate of another person’s soul – my father’s soul? How could I choose between life and death? This was a dilemma that no mortal should ever have to face.

  I didn’t want to die. Never, even in my darkest hour, had I longed for death. I just wanted to live freely, to be like everyone else.

  I saw Luca’s face in my mind. The beautiful hope and strength in his eyes. The anguish as he had reached out to me before I fell into the fire. When I thought of leaving him like this, wounding him with my death, my heart felt like a ball of ice.

  “What if…” I said, finally, speaking to the Mother. “What if you released my father, but left the Wolf inside me? Could I live then?”

  The spirit of the Wolf is powerful and tenacious. It would be enough to keep you alive. But you would have to be equally strong. Strong enough to fight it alone.

  Garin said eagerly, “I can teach her. I can teach her how to fight the Wolf, if you give us time.”

  Within the Sacred Flame, there is no time and all time. You may teach your child, Garin Aeskaar. But, Saram, remember this. If you confront the spirit of the Wolf, and lose, the Wolf will suppress your will and take your body for its own. You know what will happen then. Are you sure you wish to take that risk?

  I hesitated. There would be no turning back after this. Was there some other way, some less perilous way?

  But where had running from my fear ever got me? Where had doubting myself ever got me? I had never been able to run far or fast enough to escape the Wolf. I had one chance to free myself. I had to believe in my own strength, as Luca did.

  I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  Then go, child, and fight with my blessing.

  The blue and gold ring of fire began to sink down, and the solid, comforting weight of my father’s arm around me faded with it. I cried out, trying to hang onto him, but he was already gone, slipping through my fingers like mist.

  I stood at the centre of a great, frozen plain. The star-gemmed bowl of the sky curved overhead. Wind whistled across the plain and sent up a veil of fine snow. Wolf song echoed through the night.

  It was my nightmare.

  Terror took hold of me. My mind went blank. I did the only thing I knew how to do.

  I ran.

  The howling echoed behind me, singing of the hunt, singing of blood spilled on snow, singing of their prey’s fear on the wind. I was their prey. And they were getting closer.

  The plain blurred past my eyes. The only things standing still were the stars. My heart was agony, punching against my ribs as if it were fighting to escape too. My limbs were already heavy and numb. How much further could I run?

  They were gaining on me. I couldn’t run fast enough. They always caught me.

  They always caught me…

  I stumbled to a halt, sucking in a breath that made me choke. My legs quivered with the instinct to flee as I always had. But I could not outrun the Wolf.

  I had to stand and fight.

  I turned to face the dark shapes that flowed across the plain towards me. “I won’t break this time,” I said. “I won’t run from you any more.”

  A familiar weight came into my hand. I looked down as my father’s axe rippled into being.

  “Da,” I called, watching as the far-off wolves drew closer, their long black bodies streaking through the snow. “You said you would teach me.”

  “And so I will,” my father said, suddenly beside me. His smile as he looked down at me was proud. “Give me my axe now, Saram.”

  A little reluctantly, I lifted up the weapon and handed it over. Da took it with a sigh, closing both hands on the haft, then swinging it in a whistling arc through the air. “It’s been too long since I held this. Stay behind me, child, and watch what I do.”

  “But—” I began to protest. Surely I was meant to do the fighting?

  Da waved me to silence. “Look!”

  The pack of wolves let out a great howl, voices mingling into one. Their dark forms seemed to melt, coalescing, running across the snow like blood. Then there was no wolf pack any more, only one giant wolf, as broad across the shoulders as me.

  My Wolf.

  Its massive paws sent up a powdery spray of snow as it ran. It raced towards us and began to circle, forcing me to turn to keep it in sight. My father pushed in front of me, axe ready. The Wolf howled again, and as before in my dreams, I heard words in the cry. Words spoken in Garin Aeskaar’s voice. It made sense now – how else could a wolf speak, but by borrowing the voice of the human spirit that w
as tangled with its own?

  You have summoned me, daughter. Are you ready to accept my strength at last?

  “She is no daughter of yours!” Garin shouted. “This is my girl!”

  Deep, mocking laughter reached my ears.

  It is my strength that keeps her alive, my spirit that keeps her breathing. You are only mortal. Thanks to me, she is so much more than that. She is as much my daughter as yours.

  My father opened his mouth, but before he could speak again, I called out, “You call yourself my father. Why have you brought me such misery, then? Why have you blighted my life, and forced me to run from everything I cared about?”

  It is your own weakness that has made you sorrowful. All that matters is the hunt. The kill, and the taste of blood. Drive the weakness from your spirit, and you will be the greatest hunter, the greatest warrior, that ever lived. I will make you so.

  “Silence, beast!” Da bellowed, face flushing with rage.

  “No, Da!”

  It was already too late. My father’s temper had overwhelmed him. He lunged at the Wolf, his axe slicing down. The creature seemed to bend its spine in two to avoid the blow. Da’s axe buried itself in the snow. The Wolf lunged at his throat.

  Letting out a shrill battle cry, I dived forward and tackled the beast, jamming my forearm under its jaw and wrapping my other arm around its powerful shoulders to hold its head away.

  The immense body bucked and writhed, trying to escape my hold. The powerful back legs raked at me, opening up lines of burning pain on my belly and sides. Its claws were like iron. We rolled over and over in the snow, the Wolf’s hot, copper-scented breath blasting over my face. The great crescent teeth snapped half an inch from my nose.

  I managed to wrestle my way on top, digging one knee into the creature’s stomach and bracing the other in the snow beside it. Behind me, I could hear my father shouting my name, but he came no closer.

  I will devour you, the Wolf snarled. I will rip you apart with these fangs. I will feast on your human heart, weakling cub!

  My fingers dug into the thick fur like claws. If I let go for an instant, it would be over. I stared down into the Wolf’s blazing eyes, focusing every fragment of my will to keep myself from blinking.

  “Submit.” My voice emerged as a low, vicious growl. “Submit to me.”

  I am the Wolf.

  “Submit!”

  The beast began to howl. The eerie sound reverberated through my body, through the plain itself. Distant mountains quaked. The earth rumbled beneath us. From the corners of my eyes I saw the stars flare blindingly and begin to fall, streaking across the sky with tails of white fire.

  The wolf struggled more desperately than ever, kicking at my ribs until I was sure they must have snapped. I dug my fingers deeper into its pelt and held on. I did not blink.

  “This is my soul! Mine! You do not command me. No one commands me. Submit!”

  The star-bright eyes flickered away, for just a second.

  The Wolf went still beneath me. Then its giant, foam-flecked muzzle lifted up until the moist nose just touched the very tip of mine.

  You are my daughter, after all.

  The Wolf dissolved in my grasp, and a cloud of darkness curled around me. It caressed me with icy tendrils, like smoke, or black down, or the softest and finest of fur coats. Then it seemed to sink away – sink into me – and disappear. The earth shuddered and trembled, gave one last heave, and settled, like a restive animal that feels the hand of its master.

  Da skidded to his knees next to me and jerked me into his arms.

  “She held me back,” he whispered, hoarse and uneven. I could feel him trembling. “The Mother would not let me help you.”

  “I had to defeat him myself, Da,” I panted. “Don’t you see that? I had to know I could do it on my own, or I would never have been able to live without fear. Power and ruthlessness are all the Wolf respects. As long as he knows I am stronger than him, I will be his master. The moment I give into fear, he will drag me down and crush me beneath his paws.”

  “My brave girl. My brave little girl.” Garin rocked me backwards and forwards, then drew back, looking down at me. “There’s something I must tell you, Saram. It’s about your mother. I know she wasn’t kind to you – and I can’t ask you to forgive her for the way she was. But she didn’t know the real reason your life was spared. Edel thought that she had given away your soul, and she could not forget it, or ever shake herself free of the fear that she had damned you. The guilt tormented her. She believed everything that happened to you was her fault. It made her hard and cold. It made her hurt you when you were already hurting more than any child ever should. But she did love you, Saram. She did. She would have given up her own soul if it would have saved yours. Remember that. Remember I love you too.”

  He embraced me again. I leaned on his shoulder. Every part of me was throbbing with exhaustion, bruises and scratches. But I was at peace. Beyond the mountains, the sun began to rise, casting out rays of red and gold into the sky. The falling stars faded one by one.

  The arms around me began to glow silver-bright, sending out rays like the sun. I was enveloped in a strange floating sensation as Da’s human form began to fade, disappearing into a shape of pure light.

  “I will always watch over you,” he whispered. “My frostfire. Always…”

  There was a gentle, ghostly touch on the frost mark on my cheek. Then the silver light that was my father’s soul flowed upwards, stretching thin and pale until it disappeared into the gold of dawn.

  Tears dripped slowly down my cheeks.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for letting me meet him.”

  The landscape around me began to dissolve just as my father had done: snow and sky becoming gently rippling flames of blue and gold and purple.

  After a while – and it might have been a very long while – I realized I was lying on my side in the bottom of the camp firepit, ashes and charcoal gritty under my cheek, with the tranquil peacock flames burning all around me. The moment my eyes focused on them, they died down, leaving nothing but ashes.

  “Frost?”

  It took me a moment to recognize my name, and another moment to know the voice.

  “Arian…?”

  I coughed, and then coughed again more violently, as ashes caught in the back of my throat. I tried to push myself upright, but my arms felt like limp pieces of string. In a sudden panic I squinted down at them, and sagged with relief when I realized they weren’t burned to a crisp. I didn’t feel much different. There was only one change, other than the fact that I wanted to sleep for a week.

  The gnawing, guilty ache of fear that had been my constant companion since I was eight years old was gone. I wasn’t afraid any more. What did I have to be afraid of, after all?

  I was free.

  “Frost?”

  Arian’s voice was closer now. I forced my head up – I felt as if I wore a crown of lead – and saw him kneeling at the edge of the firepit, hands clasped as if in prayer. He looked terrible. His jaw was unshaven, his hair was standing up in messy peaks; his clothes were rumbled and grubby. He looked as if he hadn’t slept or washed in days.

  “It’s all right,” I rasped out. “I’m still Frost. I’m still me.”

  He carried on staring as if he expected me to start barking like a dog at any moment.

  “Arian, are you going to help me out of here or not? It’s not comfortable! At least give me your hand!”

  His eyes squeezed shut, an expression of profound relief crossing his face. “You got yourself in there on your own,” he said, eyes still closed. “Maybe I should make you crawl out by yourself too.”

  “Then I’ll just get Luca to help me,” I retorted.

  His face spasmed. Uneasiness prickled the back of my neck. I looked around. “Where is he? Where’s Luca?”

  Arian opened his eyes. The expression there made my stomach turn over.

  He said, “I don’t know.”

&nb
sp; Twenty-eight

  Arian told me the message had come only an hour after I had toppled into the fire and disappeared from view. As Luca had sat by the firepit in the dark – distraught and fearful, not knowing if I were even alive within the raging blaze – a ragged little Rua boy had run into the camp, begging for help. His sister and mother had been taken by three Sedorne men as they guided the family’s small herd of cattle down from their grazing pastures for the night.

  Even in the midst of his own sorrow, Luca could not refuse a call for help like that. Within a few moments, he had armed and mounted himself, picked a force of five hill guards to accompany him, and left, ignoring Arian’s pleas for caution. He had insisted Arian stay to guard the firepit. To guard me.

  The following morning, three of the five hill guards Luca had taken returned. One of them had died shortly after. The two survivors told Arian that his worst nightmare had come true.

  Luca had walked into a trap.

  The tracks of the kidnapped women and their captors had led the small hill-guard force not to a bandit group of three, but of over twenty, concealed up and down a narrow valley. Luca had shouted at his men to run. They obeyed. Two fell to enemy swords in the valley, and another had caught an arrow in the back. They hadn’t seen what happened to Luca.

  Arian had sat by the fire for the next three days, held prisoner by Luca’s orders, waiting either for Luca to return or for me to emerge. Under Hind’s command, the rest of the hill guards had combed the mountains, searching for any sign of Luca or the men who had ambushed him. They had found nothing.

  The captain of the hill guard had disappeared.

  “Is he dead?” I asked Arian bluntly as I sat in Luca’s tent.

  Arian stared at me as if his doubts about my sanity had returned. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You said before that you always know if he’s in trouble, if he needs you. Does he still need you?”

  He let out a long, shuddering breath. “I think so.”

  “Then he’s still alive,” I said, fixing my eyes on his and letting the strength of my conviction burn through my voice. “We are going to eat. We’re going to pack. Then we’re going to go out there and find him – do you understand? We are going to find him.”