New Title 1

by K. M. Shea

  Drums beat from the Chosen army, and the troops rearranged themselves. They started marching down the sides of the battlefield, moving to box the Verglas troops in.

  Rakel reached for the hills and pulled back her magic, whisking snow off the glittering walls behind which the resistance fighters were positioned.

  Someone in the Verglas army blew a note on the ram horn, and the resistance fighters loosened their first round of arrows. A wolf howled, and lightning struck the center of a Chosen squadron.

  Farrin’s men—they’re helping!

  Rakel inhaled and stopped the curse that lumbered across the field. She caught sight of a giant black cloud hanging over the valley, and hurried, creating a giant, vaulted shield above the Verglas army. Little black droplets rained from the cloud. When they hit the ice shield, they fizzled and faded. Each droplet was a pinprick of pain for Rakel.

  “Die, monster!”

  Rakel jolted out of concentration to see a Chosen magic user running for her, his weapons dripping with poison.

  Farrin appeared behind him, caught him by the throat, and flipped him over his shoulder. The magic user went down with a gurgle.

  “You’re doing well,” Farrin said.

  Rakel grit her teeth and hurried to block a streak of Tenebris’s black magic. “He has more power than I estimated.”

  “He’s had years of practice,” Farrin said. He casually spun around and deflected two arrows.

  “How long do you think he can continue at this pace?” Rakel asked. Her magic worked with her, pumping through her blood and brushing her soul, but she could already tell this battle would cost her several days of sleep—and it wasn’t over yet.

  “It will take a great deal to force him into a retreat,” Farrin said. He lunged forward, blocking a spear thrown at Rakel. “If you don’t mind my inquiry, why haven’t you gone on the attack?”

  Rakel almost bit her tongue when she blocked a plume of Tenebris’s magic. She could feel it burn her ice as it dissipated. “Pardon?”

  Farrin’s eyes were watchful as he scanned the battlefield. “His magic hurts you, and yet you can defend against it. It is logical that your magic would be uncomfortable—if not dangerous—to him.”

  Rakel stared at Farrin. Recruiting him might be the best thing I ever did for this war.

  A pained scream shattered her reverie. A Verglas soldier howled as Liv—mounted behind Phile—galloped towards him to break his curse. Tenebris had snuck a strike past her.

  Rakel returned her attention to the Chosen’s leader. “You say he won’t easily call a retreat?”

  “No.”

  Rakel smiled. “Excellent.”

  She dug deep, heaping as much of her magic as she could hold. The temperature dropped, the wind howled, and snow tumbled down the sides of the hills and swirled from the sky. Rakel threw her arm at Tenebris. Ice sliced through the battlefield like a sword, hitting him.

  He blocked it with his dark magic, but the recoil knocked him a step back. So if his magic burns mine, mine forces his away. Interesting.

  Spears of ice shot out of the ground, nearly impaling him. An avalanche threatened to bury him, but he threw it back, rerouting it to blanket his troops.

  Rakel reached for more of her magic. Ice began to bloom like flowers across the battlefield. She formed a hundred ice swords and threw them at Tenebris. He shattered them with a wall of his dark magic.

  “He’s not going to pull back,” she muttered. She glanced back at the Verglas forces. They were standing their ground against the Chosen mercenaries—the resistance forces were ripping through their ranks with their archers—but the cold temperatures, wild wind, and the snow were slowing them down.

  They can’t survive in this much longer. If Tenebris won’t leave, I have to trap him long enough for us to leave.

  Recalling the various cages she had forged out of ice, Rakel rubbed the tips of her fingers together and grabbed as much magic as she could handle. Her ears rang, and her knees buckled under the physical strain as she pulled at all the ice and snow in the area.

  The ground rumbled, and men shouted as the hills themselves shuddered and groaned. Rakel swallowed and carved into the ground with her ice magic, creating a circular wall that spiraled around Tenebris and his guards. When she raised the height of the walls, he seemed to guess what she was trying to do and tried to use his magic to destroy the wall. He reacted too slowly, however, and Rakel patched whatever holes he made as he struggled to break free.

  She gave the walls a ceiling, creating a perfect sphere of ice that entombed the Chosen leader. She barely noticed when Farrin dispatched two soldiers and joined her.

  He tilted his head, an appreciative grin playing on his lips. “I see,” he said. “If he doesn’t realize what you’re planning…it will be brilliant.”

  As if in response, a booming noise made the ground shake, and a side of the ice sphere was blown to pieces. The rest of the sphere—thick and frosty—cracked and fell in on itself, making a dangerous avalanche of ice shards and blocks. Just to be safe, Rakel then dropped a load of wet, heavy snow from the hillsides on top of the fractured ground.

  There was no sign of life.

  “Retreat!” General Halvor shouted.

  Rakel held a fist of magic to keep herself standing upright. She blinked, and Farrin was gone.

  Phile whistled. “Little Wolf!”

  “Here, Princess.” Oskar lifted Rakel onto his horse. “Can you hold on long?”

  “For a bit. How are our troops?”

  “Battered, but I don’t think this could be considered a loss. The Chosen sustained a much higher mortality rate,” Oskar said, mounting up behind her.

  Rakel almost fell off the side when the horse lunged forward.

  “Fall back in formation,” General Halvor shouted. “Take the injured, but move!” His pony tossed its head and whinnied when Farrin appeared, not even out of breath.

  “Tenebris is calling a retreat,” he said. “He has one slight injury, but a colonel and one of his close companions were both grievously injured by the falling ice.”

  “Shouldn’t we push him now?” Frodi asked. He stood as if it pained him, but he still held a ball of fire. At his side—also mounted on a pony—was Steinar.

  “No,” General Halvor said. “Our soldiers cannot continue with this pace. We need to regroup and reorganize.”

  “But Halvor,” Steinar said.

  “The princess cannot fight Tenebris any longer. She is barely holding on the way it is,” General Halvor said.

  Concern furrowed Farrin’s brow as he watched her.

  He’s worried—he doesn’t know this is normal. Rakel forced her lips into a quick smile.

  Farrin frowned gravely and gently held one of her hands.

  General Halvor eyed them, but addressed Steinar. “As it stands, we don’t have anyone capable of fighting him without sustaining heavy losses. I’m calling a retreat.”

  Steinar nodded.

  Rakel shut her eyes and strained to hold on.

  “Princess,” Halvor said.

  Instead of speaking, Rakel opened her eyes.

  “You can let go,” Halvor said. “We have emergency procedures in place for this situation. You can rest.”

  Farrin still stood next to her, his expression guarded as he watched the conversation play out.

  Her eyes flickered from Farrin to Halvor as she wondered what would happen after she fell unconscious. “Are you sure?”

  Halvor caught her unease and offered her a nod. “Yes.”

  “He’s right, Little Wolf,” Phile said.

  “The sooner you begin resting, the better,” Liv piped in. She was still mounted behind Phile and yipped in surprise when the Robber Maiden abruptly swung her horse around.

  “I have you, Princess,” Oskar assured her.

  Rakel’s eyes slid towards Farrin, and she wordlessly asked, Will you guard them?

  Farrin smiled and raised her hand to his lips. The warmth of
his lips and his breath was a tender caress on her skin. “Sleep well, Princess.”

  Rakel narrowed her eyes and wanted to lecture him—his reaction was something she did not want to encourage—but fighting Tenebris made her feel like she had been chewed up by a snow bear and spat back out, so she let go of her magic.

  When she did, she felt a sharp, suffocating magic whisper on the winds.

  You are just like Tenebris.

  Shocked, but lacking control of her body and mouth, Rakel sagged against Oskar, aghast. Her thoughts slipped through her fingers, and with mounting horror and fright, Rakel plunged into a dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER 10

  NEW BEGINNINGS

  Her body ached. Not the ache of strain, but the pain of having been dragged across a bumpy road for miles. She couldn’t help the groan that escaped her mouth as she blinked in the bright light, trying to make sense of the bleary world.

  “Phile?” she murmured.

  Phile was always there when she woke. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

  Rakel raised her hand and pinched her eyes, clearing her vision. It took her several tries to find the strength to sit up in bed.

  She was splayed out in the only bed of the tiny cottage she shared with Phile and Liv in Tana. Two cots were folded and stacked against a barren wall, but there were blankets, cushions, and a few straw dolls scattered around the room. One particularly well-made doll was tucked in Rakel’s right hand.

  She smiled. “Gerta.” She rolled her shoulders, wincing as her bones cracked and resettled. Her mouth felt as dry as fall leaves, and her stomach rumbled in a most unseemly fashion.

  The cottage was lit with golden sunlight that splashed in through the windows. Rakel turned, bathing her face in the light like a cat, and was surprised to see a familiar back.

  Farrin stood outside one of the two windows in a defensive stance. A breeze stirred his hair—which revealed more of its rich brown undertones in the late afternoon sunlight—and his head tilted as he scrutinized the street.

  Judging by the way he’s standing, he has his sword unsheathed and positioned in front of him.

  “He’s been there every day ever since General Halvor deposited you here,” Phile said. Her silent entrance startled Rakel.

  “I think he would have stood there all night, too, if Oskar didn’t brow beat him into sleeping. He takes his oaths very seriously, that one does. Here.” Phile offered her a glass of water. “You always sound like a sick camel when you first wake up.”

  “Excuse me?” Rakel asked after she took a few sips. She grimaced—her voice was dry and scratchy.

  “You see? Just let your teeth go, wander around dressed in sand-colored furs, and you’ve got the perfect disguise.” Phile laughed.

  Rakel scowled at her friend and drank more water.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I’m hurting,” Rakel admitted. “Touching Tenebris’s magic isn’t…pleasant. I have no physical wounds, but I feel mentally bruised—like my mind was shaved with a scythe.”

  “How bad is it?” Phile asked.

  Rakel tipped her head as she tried to judge the pain. “Not terrible. It’s more like a partially healed wound. I expect I will be fine in a day or two.” She finished her water. “What happened while I slept?”

  “It’s been better than expected. It was a little dicey for a few days—could have cut a king’s beard with the tension of the camp—but Steinar did his best to welcome Farrin and his troops. And even though Halvor has been hesitant, that tactical mind of his has been skipping with glee,” Phile said.

  “He’s pleased with the new recruits?”

  “Pleased is a vast understatement. He’s had the entire camp debriefed on their abilities, and he ordered special training so our magic users could learn how to fight with theirs. He and Farrin’s second-in-command, Bunny, have been running practices.” Phile threw Foedus into the air, caught it by its ugly hilt, and then used it to slice a piece of bread from a loaf. Rakel wrinkled her nose—not tempted due to her knowledge of the various things Phile used Foedus for—but gratefully took the roll and goat cheese Phile offered her instead.

  “I suspect General Halvor is getting ready to split the magic users up into small squads. We assigned partners previously, but with twenty-four magic users added to our roster, he now has the actual numbers to assign them to missions.”

  “Any news of Tenebris?” Rakel asked.

  Phile plopped down on a chair and leaned back so it balanced on two legs. “He’s been quiet. That battle cost him quite a bit of trouble. He had higher losses, and a few of the mercenary groups who reported to Farrin have left his services. The others are not happy with his disregard for their lives.”

  “He hasn’t attacked?” Rakel asked.

  Phile reached forward and slid a fluffy pillow behind Rakel so she could lean back. “No.”

  Rakel sagged with relief. “Good.”

  “Were you that worried?” Phile balanced Foedus on a fingertip. “You whacked him a good one with that final attack of yours. You hit Sunnira. Farrin said she was the best with healing magic in their camp, and their second best came to our side with him.”

  “Sunnira,” Rakel said, recalling the name with dislike.

  “The woman on my to-be-tortured list for hitting you with that curse in Ostfold, yes,” Phile said.

  Rakel nodded and rubbed her forehead. I was upset about something right when I passed out…what was it?

  “You did well, Little Wolf. I don’t think anyone expected you to actually convince Farrin—well, besides me that is. Anyway, for certain no one dared to think Farrin’s underlings would come with you. That battle was a significant win.”

  Rakel leaned back against the pillows. “I never considered their loyalty. It was a pleasant surprise.” She glanced at Farrin, still stationed outside her window.

  “I’ll get you something more substantial to eat. Liv left a stew to simmer over our hearth; just give me a moment.” Phile popped out of her chair and disappeared into the back room.

  Rakel watched her go and tried to follow the nagging thought that she was forgetting something. I remember I was having a hard time staying awake, even though I held my magic. What was it?

  You are just like Tenebris.

  The thought resurfaced like an ugly stain, making Rakel flinch as if she had been hit. No, I am the opposite! I bear no resemblance to him at all.

  You have his power, the nasty voice whispered. And you wanted to kill him.

  Rakel scoffed, but the protest died in her throat. She gripped her blankets with shaking fingers, remembered her all-consuming rage when Tenebris attacked Gerta and Kai. Even if only for a moment, I wanted him dead. “I—it was…even so, I won’t kill him. It has been my resolution from the start of this war. I will not kill!”

  You manipulate just as he does.

  She fiddled with the blankets. Was she that different? Hadn’t she lured Farrin to her side and won his loyalty because she offered him friendship—just as Tenebris had done when saving him from the gladiator pits?

  “I’m not our leader. No one would call me the commander of the resistance forces,” Rakel whispered.

  Instead they just call you the Snow Queen.

  Rakel pressed her hands to her forehead and tried to silence the nausea-inducing thoughts.

  “Hopefully it isn’t too flavored.” Phile marched back into the bedroom, carrying a wooden bowl. “Oskar always lectures me to give you bland food for the—what’s wrong?”

  Rakel lowered her hands. “Nothing. I’m fine, thank you.” She took the stew and devoured it, feeling much better with a full stomach.

  Phile helped her change into a fresh dress and braided her hair for her.

  “Ta da!” Phile showed Rakel a mirror. She had pulled Rakel’s snow white hair into a complex braid that draped down the crest of her head, giving her a rougher, almost warrior-like edge.

  “Thank you.” Rakel stood and smoothed her skirts, noddin
g in satisfaction when her legs held her. Phile had also convinced her to wear one of the creations Inga—Gerta’s mother—had made for her. The dress was in two pieces—an overcoat of night-sky blue, and a silver-white under-dress that matched Rakel’s hair. The overcoat was reminiscent of a soldier’s jacket—tight in the shoulders, arms, torso and waist, and then draped over the flowy white underskirt. It had gauzy, stiff white trim that reminded Rakel of frost, and was embroidered with a swirling snowflake pattern.

  “Of course,” Phile chirped. “Are you ready?”

  Rakel adjusted one of her sleeves and nodded.

  “Everyone will be thrilled to see you. You’re sure you’re fortified?”

  “Yes, though I thank you for your concern.”

  Phile bumped her head against Rakel’s and gave her a quick hug—holding Foedus uncomfortably close to Rakel’s throat as seemed to be her custom. “Always,” she said. She took two quick steps across the room. “This should be good. I don’t think Farrin has seen you in anything except for your horribly baggy cloaks and boring Bunads.”

  Rakel blinked. “What do you mean?”

  Phile ignored her and flung the door open. “She’s awake—and decently cared for!” she announced.

  Rakel brushed her bangs out of her eyes and stepped into the street. The soldiers patrolling the area and the villagers going about their work stopped to smile at her.

  “Princess!”

  “You’re awake!”

  “You are so beautiful…”

  “Good job smashing that Chosen leader, eh?”

  Rakel fought a blush under their close scrutiny and open delight. “Thank you—and thank you for your support.” She couldn’t find the strength to look at Farrin as everyone cooed over her.

  “It was our delight.”

  “You are our Snow Queen!”

  “You look all proper and royal—makes me hope for the future!”