Through the White Wood

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Through the White Wood Page 27

by Jessica Leake


  Beautiful. Fierce. A pillar of fire. Did I really deserve such praise? “I cannot believe he has such feelings for me.”

  “Any fool can see he loves you.”

  Surprise shot through me. “Love? No one said anything about love.”

  “You didn’t see how he reacted when he discovered you’d left for your village.”

  I thought of the intensity on his face when he’d found me, but still, I couldn’t imagine . . . “Even if he was upset—”

  “He was terrified. And it quickly turned to rage when he realized Grigory hadn’t left yet.”

  I tried not to let her words affect me—tried not to let that hope bloom. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the prince, and love. . . . I didn’t have much experience with love. “Still. Even if he reacted that way, I’m sure he’d behave the same no matter who it’d been.”

  She propped her head with her hand, under her chin. “You think so, do you? Well, I can see it’s no use talking sense into you tonight, and I’m tired. But I think what you need to ask yourself is: Why shouldn’t he love me? Why are you so afraid to let yourself be loved?”

  Silence descended over us as we both gave in to our need for sleep, and as I finally drifted off, I thought of Winter’s tale, and how she’d eventually killed the hunter she loved—my father—despite being able to control her power far better than I. Sasha was a powerful elemental instead of a mere mortal like my father, but still, fear coiled itself around my heart. If even my powerful mother had lost control, then how much worse would my own fate be?

  The morning dawned warm and bright, and I awoke to find Elation watching me. Her eyes seemed to be trying to say something to me. Not for the first time, I wished I could understand. I stood and went to the stern of the ship where the queen was alone, gazing out at the water.

  She turned when she saw me. “You did well against the captain once you overcame your fear and hesitation.”

  “Thank you, but I think most of it was luck.”

  “No, but I did have a thought. You wrought the most damage with your power when it was beyond your control, yes?”

  I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I supposed it was true. Both with the villagers and with the raiders, I’d only thought of stopping them—in any way possible. “Yes, but then I can’t rein it in.”

  “I understand that, but I did you a disservice by treating your power like mine: it isn’t like that. I was trained as a warrior for one thing, so I have always been able to use my abilities like an extension of my fighting ability. But you don’t have such training.”

  “So what should I do?”

  “You may not have training, but that doesn’t mean your power doesn’t know exactly what to do. Yours is raw, elemental power. Like a winter storm. It doesn’t need your help causing destruction. But it does need your help in reining it in. A storm in winter will blow until its energy is spent, right?” When I nodded, she continued. “But that’s what your power has been doing to you. It uses you until you deplete all your energy and lose consciousness. It’s this aspect of it that you must gain control of.”

  I shook my head with a little self-deprecating laugh. “Yes, well, then I may as well not use it at all, for I have no idea how to stop once it once it’s set free.”

  “You must think of what would keep a raging winter storm at bay,” she said. “I may not be able to see the future, Katya, but I can see that you are determined. Never underestimate your strength of will.”

  “You’ve given me much to think about,” I said. “I cannot thank you enough for all of your help.”

  “I’m glad to give it.”

  We fell silent again for a moment, gazing out over the dark water. But then I remembered. “I never had a chance to ask you more about Elation—my eagle,” I clarified when she turned and looked at me. “You could read her mind, right? I know she understands me, but I’ve always wished I could understand her, too.”

  “You were right,” the queen said to me. “The eagle can understand everything perfectly. Only”—she paused with a glance at Elation who was perched nearby—“she is actually a he.”

  I stared at the queen for a moment, slow to understand. “That can’t be true. Look how large her wingspan is! The females are always bigger than the males.”

  “I heard his voice,” the queen said firmly. “It’s true, he’s much larger than any eagle I’ve ever seen, but then, coupled with his superior intelligence, it’s clear he’s no ordinary bird.”

  Elation watched us with an intent look in her—his?—eyes, as though following the conversation. “When you . . . entered his mind,” I chose the words questioningly, unsure if that was the right way to describe it, but she nodded. “When you did that, he spoke to you?”

  “Yes,” she said, glancing toward Elation, “which is why I think he is more than he seems. I can enter an animal’s mind to an extent, but it’s not like a human’s. They don’t form thoughts with words, for one thing, but instead, with images and sounds and smells. The eagle, though, told me about himself with clearly spoken words.”

  I held my breath. “What did he say?”

  “He said he has lost much of his past before he was entrusted with your care, so you are ‘the sky, the sun, the trees’ to him. He sees himself as your guard, but he cannot remember who first commanded him to protect you.”

  I watched Elation silently for a moment, absorbing what the queen had said. If Elation had been with me from the beginning, then it was reasonable to assume Winter had been the one to command him to watch over me.

  “I think I know who it was,” I said. “He truly can’t remember?”

  She shook her head. “He loses more pieces of his memory every year.”

  There was obviously more to the story—like how an eagle came to have such unusual intelligence—and I felt like the answer was hovering just out of reach.

  “I’m glad to know even this much about him—thank you,” I said.

  “There’s much to be said for an animal you can connect with,” she said with a melancholy look in her eyes, “especially if they’re willing to go to battle with you.”

  “He certainly is willing to fight,” I said, thinking of the way he used his talons.

  She smiled. “I had a horse like that once. He was just as much a warrior as I was.”

  “I’m sorry he’s no longer with you.”

  “I am, too,” she said with a sad little laugh. “There has been no replacing him. Ah, but let’s talk of other things.” She seemed to forcibly push the sadness away, her whole body straightening until she appeared as once again an invincible queen.

  The queen tilted her head for a moment, watching Elation. “There may be something I can do for you and for your eagle. Would you allow me to touch your mind again? My powers have grown of late, and I may be able to form a connection.”

  “I’m willing to try anything at this point,” I said, the curiosity burning in my mind.

  I felt the queen’s powerful mind reach out and snatch mine, dizzying and headache-inducing, but just as I thought I couldn’t stand the sensation anymore, a sound drew my attention.

  The scratching of talons on the wooden floor, and then Elation moved closer. I turned to look at him, and as I did, he bowed his head toward mine. Unsure what he meant, I mimicked the gesture. Feathers brushed my forehead, and then as suddenly as a bolt of lightning, images burst into my mind.

  I saw the hunter, young and hale as he gazed into the crystalline eyes of Winter, the eyes that were the same as mine.

  The images skipped ahead, dancing over scenes of their love: passionate kisses and long looks, laughter and shared food, talking long into the night.

  Until the moment he turned to ice. In my mind, as though it was my own memory, I saw Winter’s eyes go from hooded and relaxed to wide with unspeakable horror as she realized the hunter was dead. Only he wasn’t. Not entirely.

  Spring was able to heal him, but she didn’t have the power to reanimate him in his hu
man form. And this time, the image showed him transforming, light warm and golden as the sun’s rays pouring over him until he was no longer a man. Feathers erupted over his body as his face shrank and transformed into the sharp beak of an eagle, though the color of his golden eyes remained. His legs and feet became the slender ones of an eagle, ending in wicked talons.

  He screamed, but it was the battle cry of a raptor.

  Winter didn’t flinch, or cry, or show any emotion at all. She could have been carved from stone. She held out her arm to him, and he flew awkwardly to it, wrapping razor-sharp talons around her flesh.

  The images skipped again, to the hunter watching as Winter’s belly grew and grew, and I could feel his anguish from our connection. Every day he lost pieces of who he was as a human. He could understand Winter but not respond, and he was forced to watch her heart slowly turn to ice.

  As the memories progressed, they grew hazier, as though the hunter was losing his grasp on them. Desperation rose in me, and I reached for the smoky tendrils of images as they flitted past me.

  Finally, the baby—me, I realized—was born, and as Winter held me in her arms, tears fell like diamonds from her eyes.

  I cannot risk hurting her as I did you, my love, she said to the hunter, and he let out a piercing cry, but could no sooner speak to her than a real eagle could. But as he was currently doing with me, he flew to her shoulder, bowed his head, and as soon as he touched his forehead to hers, they could communicate.

  He tried to convince her to keep me, that she wouldn’t harm me because I shared her blood. Already, he could feel the cold radiating off my infant body. But she refused—she wouldn’t risk it. Eventually, the hunter relented. The only humans he trusted to care for me were his own parents, and I would at least be raised in an ordinary village.

  The images danced ahead again, to Babushka and Dedushka meeting the hunter in his eagle form, and Winter with all her snowy white animals surrounding her, in the forest. Winter held me while the hunter flew close to Babushka and Dedushka on a nearby branch. Both Babushka and Dedushka stared at this bizarre menagerie with shocked looks on their faces—shock inching toward fear. Winter encouraged them to move toward the eagle, and Dedushka finally took a step forward. The hunter bowed his head, as he’d done with me, and just as I had, Dedushka mimicked the gesture.

  Expressions flitted across his face—surprise, horror, wonder, and a dawning understanding. At last, he turned to Babushka, who had been waiting none too patiently, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

  “This is our son,” Dedushka said, nodding toward the eagle before turning his attention to the baby in Winter’s arms, “and that is our granddaughter.”

  Babushka paled, but she was a resilient woman, not prone to emotional outbursts, nor did she ever doubt her husband. She simply nodded, as though knowing she could get more detail about the strange interaction later, but for now, all she asked was, “What do they want us to do?”

  “Raise her as your own, but never tell her of her true parentage,” Winter said, and though her face still held that cold stone exterior, her voice wavered. “I cannot risk her seeking me out, not before she is strong enough. Only then may she be able to resist my power.” She glanced at the eagle. “Only then may she be safe.”

  “The eagle—our son,” Dedushka corrected himself, “is to stay with us. He wishes to watch over the babe.”

  Babushka was quiet for so long, Dedushka took a step closer to her, as though afraid she’d become overwhelmed. But then she moved toward Winter, arms outstretched.

  Winter handed the baby over with only a shimmer of hesitation, but still her expression revealed nothing. But Elation felt pain enough for both of them, grief for what Winter was giving up, grief that he could never be the father he wanted to be.

  And then the images of everything else in his mind faded like smoke on the horizon. There was only one thing he could remember now with any clarity: me.

  But as he looked down upon the baby—upon me—he swore: he would always be there to look over me.

  I pulled away from Elation with a gasping breath.

  Elation was the hunter.

  Elation had once been my father.

  The prince came to my side while I was gazing out at the water, deep in thought. I felt him before I heard him, the heat rolling off his skin.

  “What has you so lost in your own thoughts?” he asked.

  “So many things,” I said with a glance up at him. “Some of them more unbelievable than others.” I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know that Elation was there. Watching over me as he always had.

  “Try me,” Sasha said with a small smile.

  “The queen helped me discover the truth about Elation—why he’s so intelligent.”

  “He?” Sasha asked, confusion touching his brows.

  “He’s as large as a female eagle and extremely intelligent because he was once human.”

  I watched him for a moment, and he turned to look at Elation. “Once human,” he repeated.

  “Yes, he was the hunter who fell in love with Winter. My father.”

  And now the prince did look taken aback, but as usual, he recovered quickly. “Then that explains why he has looked over you all this time and can understand you.”

  I nodded.

  Sasha looked at me again. “But it’s a cruel fate to never be able to talk to you. Or hold you. Especially after what you endured in your village.”

  I gave him a sad smile. “Or to never be able to truly speak to his daughter.”

  And then he pulled me into his arms, surprising me enough that my skin went cold, but eventually, I relaxed into his chest. I could feel his breath stir the hair at the top of my head, and for once, I felt safe.

  We stayed like that for a long time, while dark clouds passed overhead and the ship raced over the water, sending a light spray over us. I thought of what the queen had said about my power. She was right in saying it was like a winter storm. When I pictured the well inside me again, I could see in my mind’s eye how it had overflowed and unleashed itself upon my enemies. The problem, though, was that I had no idea how to rein in the power of a winter storm.

  I remembered a blizzard that had borne down upon our village like a demon one cold night in winter. The wind had howled like wolves, the snow so thick we feared we’d be buried alive in our houses.

  But then I thought of the one thing everyone in all of Kievan Rus’ turned to when the wild winds of Winter beat at their doors:

  Fire.

  I glanced up at the prince. “The queen said something about my power that I’d never thought about before.”

  His voice rumbled behind my chest. “Was she able to help as I’d hoped?”

  I nodded. “I think all this time I’ve been slowly gaining more control over the smaller aspects of my power—like turning water to ice—but it’s the cold fire that has always been the problem. The queen likened it to a storm, and I think she’s right. It’s like a storm raging out of control with me as its energy source; it takes and takes, and I still don’t know how to stop it once it’s unleashed.”

  The prince looked pensive, gazing out over the water as he considered. “Did the queen have any insight?”

  “She said I should consider what can stop a winter storm, but . . .” I trailed off, thinking of my earlier realization about fire. I didn’t want him to risk himself.

  “Ivan was able to stop you before.” He searched my face, and it was as if he could see my concern written plainly upon it. “Do you think my flames may be strong enough to stop the cold fire’s advance?”

  I shook my head. “It’s far too risky—for everyone involved. What if your power failed and the cold fire burned you and everyone else? I couldn’t live with that.”

  “These aren’t innocent civilians who will be fighting with us. These are soldiers who know not everyone will survive, but they do it for the good of Kievan Rus’. And there’s something else I should tell you about the D
revlian and Novgorodian princes. Something Kharankhui discovered.”

  A chill chased over my skin.

  “They are earth elementals themselves,” he said, “though many years ago when they attempted to take over Kiev, they were weak, barely able to produce vines like the ones we saw in my throne room. They have the same mother, and it was she who had such a power in her bloodline, though she herself had been frail and didn’t live long past her younger son’s birth.”

  “But you think they are stronger now?”

  “I know they are,” he said, grim-faced. “Kharankhui has heard that they have done nothing but train these past few years. There is no earth elemental stronger. It will be no small thing I ask of you, Katya, and now that I’ve fallen in love with you, I don’t know if I can ask it.”

  My breath caught in my throat as he gazed down at me. He loved me. I didn’t know what to say, or how to express the depth of feeling I had for him—I love you, too seemed like far too simplistic a response.

  “So tell me once more,” the prince said. “Tell me that you wish to fight. Because if you do not, then I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  I turned so I could see him properly. “I not only wish to fight . . . I will fight. I have been given this power for a reason, and I will use it for good.”

  He nodded once, his strong arms wrapping around me again. “Together then.”

  The earth will only fall to fire and ice.

  We made landfall late the next day. Sasha wanted to immediately start the long journey back to the palace, and despite my initial trepidations at using my power, I could no longer let fear hinder me. Not after seeing the captives firsthand. The people who would suffer if we failed to stop the princes.

  I glanced back at the prince, at the sun glinting off his dark hair, and a flash of his kiss went through my mind. I remembered the feel of his heat on my lips, on the way he’d melted some of my ice. But horribly, it only made me fear for him . . . for what would come. I feared I would lose him just as I’d lost everyone else—if not by my own cold fire, then in battle.

 

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