by K. M. Shea
“I don’t understand,” Rakel said.
“It was easier for the soldiers with magic to hide in such an area and establish a camaraderie with their squad. There was little to do, and they saw few people, making discovery unlikely.”
“And you felt if the other soldiers knew them, they would be less likely to turn on them if their powers were discovered?”
Captain Halvor gestured to the squad standing with Snorri. “You think I am wrong?”
“No. It’s the same reasoning I used,” Rakel admitted. A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth, giving her a sly edge.
“You’re thinking something cunning, I can tell.” Oskar said, joining them.
“I bet it’s brilliant. I love cunning—especially in plans and men,” Phile said, throwing an arm across Rakel’s shoulders.
“I was just thinking that with five additional magic users, our success at Glowma is assured.”
“We don’t know if their powers will be at all helpful in warfare, Princess,” Captain Halvor said.
“Of course they are, or they wouldn’t have come forward. And four of them are soldiers for a reason. They did say they thought it was wrong to make me fight alone.” Rakel was almost purring in delight. I don’t relish the idea of facing Graydim again, but I will not allow him to stop us. I am going to save my brother, even if I have to fight Farrin alone!
CHAPTER 13
THE FIGHT FOR GLOWMA
“You’re not going to fight Farrin, remember that,” Oskar said. “The other magic users will keep him occupied while you fight with the rest of us.”
Rakel nodded, too ill to respond verbally. Though she had decided she would risk facing Farrin again if it meant she could reach Steinar in time to save him, now that the moment had arrived, her entire being protested drawing any closer.
Her complete and thorough defeat at his hands had shaken her more than she thought.
“Are you well, Little Wolf?” Phile asked, balancing Foedus on her fingertip.
“Well enough,” Rakel said, growing green with dread. She inhaled and stared at Glowma. It was silent and shut tightly. According to Snorri—who had been lingering around the walls of the city since dawn, using his magic to blend in with the shadows—the city had closed up approximately twenty minutes prior to their arrival.
“At least they can’t shoot down at us,” Oskar said. “Glowma has walls to keep out wild animals, so there are no wall-walks for archers.”
“Princess?” Captain Halvor said, studying her with piercing eyes.
Rakel tore her gaze from the city.
“We await your command.”
Rakel nodded. Though she dreaded seeing Farrin again, using her magic’s full potential made her almost as nervous. To free the country, to free Steinar, I will do it.
She left the shadows of the trees and approached Glowma, drawing closer to the silent city. Troops moved into place behind her, and they organized themselves just outside the biggest city gate.
Rakel brushed the door, and it frosted over as ice flooded the cracks. The wood groaned as she pushed more of her powers into the door, until the ice made the wood buckle.
As the door froze further, she leaned close and listened—able to hear officers of the Chosen shouting to their soldiers. Rakel retreated several feet away and waited as the door continued to crack ominously—though it was nowhere near falling down.
When she estimated there was a sizable crowd lined up behind the gate, she slammed the wooden doors with a glacier—tearing them from their hinges. She kept pushing so the glacier surged forward, shoving the door down the city road, plowing through the troops organized there.
After taking out rows of soldiers, she flung the door against a building, getting it out of the way for the fighting. The Chosen soldiers thrown by the door and glacier combo lay addled on the ground. She stepped aside so the Verglas troops could pour past her. They shouted and fell upon the vulnerable enemy soldiers, raising a racket.
Rakel found the archers positioned in second story windows of various buildings and got to work freezing their quivers solid so they could not retrieve any arrows, and icing over the bows so they were too cold to handle. She had one building left when something hit her uninjured side and sent her sprawling against the side of a building.
Farrin.
Rakel’s heart picked up its speed as she peeled herself off the wall.
“Why are you attempting this, Your Highness?” Farrin asked, frowning. “You’ll only get more of your troops killed with this attack.”
He took a step towards her, and Rakel lashed out, sending spikes of ice out of the ground.
Farrin ruthlessly cleaved straight through them, and they shattered.
Rakel backed up to a store and tried pummeling him with ice shards.
He deflected them, and they peppered the wall behind Rakel, digging in several inches.
She covered the ground with a layer of slick ice, but he still wore the ice cleats.
I can’t do this! Panic tore at her concentration and her powers, making her falter. She cringed when Farrin stopped an arm’s length away from her.
He still wore a frown, but now it was edged with regret. He tightened his grip on his sword. “You are afraid of me—” he started.
Snorri stepped out of the shadows and slapped a pair of cuffs on him. He turned to Rakel and said something incomprehensible as Farrin stared at the cuffs.
“You’re muttering, Snorri,” she said.
Farrin tried breaking the cuffs by yanking his arms apart with his magic-fueled speed. They held.
“You can’t break it, least, not easily. Tollak charmed them.” Snorri told him. He turned and bowed to Rakel. “Now, Princess?”
“Yes. Right now, thank you.”
“Our honor.” Snorri retreated a few steps and raised his fist in the air—the pre-determined signal.
Farrin, in the middle of adjusting his grip on his greatsword, had to tap his speed magic so he could raise his sword in time to block a ball of fire. The fire bounced off his sword—pushed away by his magic—but instead of shooting in the direction he aimed it, it flew back to Frodi, who caught it in his hand and held it painlessly.
Frodi scowled. “He can still use the sword with the handcuffs on!”
“An unacceptable outcome,” Tollak acknowledged. “But at least I have another set of unbreakable manacles for his feet—though I’m not volunteering to put them on him.” While all magic powers were unusual, Tollak had the particularly unconventional but useful ability to give magical properties to crafted objects. He could, for instance, make a pair of manacles unbreakable.
“Now he’s going to expect that we’ll try to attack his feet!” Frodi said, slapping his face with his fire-free hand.
“You’ve collected a number of other magic users,” Farrin said.
“Yes,” Rakel said, easing away from the wall.
“Mind him,” Snorri said as Farrin used his speed magic to catch up and reached for her.
Tollak, who was as big as a bear—although he had the nimblest set of fingers Rakel had ever seen—stepped in Farrin’s way.
Farrin dodged him. When Snorri grabbed his cloak, he kicked the scout in the chest, slamming him into Tollak. Sensing he wasn’t going to let her leave the area, Rakel tried running. Farrin caught her by the wrist before she went two feet.
“No,” he said.
Rakel jolted to a stop and sagged like a ragdoll. She could hear Verglas soldiers shouting as they ran—not down the main street, but up alleyways, back inlets, and around buildings—making the Chosen army chase after them. It was going according to plan, but she needed to get to the municipal building! “Ragnar?”
Ragnar, the last of the male magic users, ambled into the city with the last wave of Verglas soldiers. “I hoped to be used as a last resort, but it seems we’ll need Genovefa after all,” the older soldier sighed. He slapped his hands together, closed his eyes, and started murmuring under his breath.
Frodi flung the fireball again, but his aim was a little off, and he would have hit Rakel if Farrin hadn’t slid forward to intercept the hit.
“We are tryin’ to hit the colonel, Frodi. Not the Princess,” Tollak said, his voice kind and cheerful in spite of the chastisement as Rakel ran past him—taking advantage of her moment of freedom.
Frodi burned red with embarrassment. “I’d like to see you do better.”
“Don’t think I could,” Tollak shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”
Farrin glanced from his manacles to Frodi to Rakel. “They leave much to be desired,” he said. It took him a moment and a burst of his speed magic to catch her again.
Rakel tried fighting him and kicked out. She stopped when a raindrop fell and looked up at the cloudy, magic-fueled sky. I have to leave. Now! Soon she was going to be too late, and the whole plan would come down on their heads!
An otherworldly song echoed in the street that was now abandoned, except for the magic-users. A golden gate formed next to Ragnar—the oldest soldier—and out of it stepped a beautiful, ethereal warrior.
“Elf-friend Ragnar. It is my joy to answer your call. How can I assist you?” the warrior asked. Her luxurious blonde hair was twisted in an artful braid, and she had long, tapered ears, and eyes a curious shade of jade green. Several black tattoos framed her eyes and flowed down her arms. She wore beautiful, intricate armor and wielded a shortsword, and the weapon seemed to give off an aura of its own.
Rakel stared. What is an elf-friend? In all her reading, she had never heard the term. Of course, she had never read of anything like Ragnar’s transportation magic, either.
Ragnar bowed. “Thank you for answering my summons, Genovefa. My request is that you would fight this man on my behalf,” he said, indicating Farrin.
Farrin’s scowl grew sharp as he changed his stance. He released Rakel and maneuvered her behind him.
“I understand,” the warrior said. She snapped down the visor of her helm and sprang at Farrin.
Farrin, his grasp awkward due to the manacles, brought up his greatsword just in time. When the blades clashed, they showered the air with sparks, and the ground beneath them shook.
The female warrior leaped back. “He has magic,” she stated.
“S-speed and magic reflection,” Frodi stammered, staring open-mouthed.
“I see. Thank you for this information.” She dove at Farrin again.
“Princess,” Captain Halvor said, appearing at her side as Farrin and the warrior met again, this time with a thunderclash. “It’s time.”
“I apologize, it’s just…” Rakel shook her head and turned her back on the battle. She heard Frodi throw another fireball and glanced over her shoulder.
“They’ll handle it.”
“Yes,” Rakel agreed as she picked up her pace and started running. “Are we on schedule?”
“Mostly. The three other magic users under Colonel Graydim’s command are by the municipal building.”
Rakel flinched as lightning cracked in the sky. “I see. I apologize for the delay,” she said, when they skid to a stop at a corner.
Captain Halvor checked around the corner and then nodded to her. They ran again—though this time they ran into four Chosen soldiers.
“Keep moving. The municipal building is straight ahead,” he said, as he slipped his sword from its scabbard.
Rakel ran as Captain Halvor spun around and engaged the soldiers, his sword ringing when it hit their armor.
Rakel skidded into the courtyard just in time to see the weather magic-user—standing on the top floor of the municipal building—raise his hand. Thunder growled, and Rakel sprinted towards the center—where a small unit of thirty or so Verglas soldiers stood—penned in by Chosen troops. She threw a block of ice at two of the Chosen soldiers, creating a gap that she slipped through. She had just enough time to throw her hands up, creating a huge shield of ice as lightning fell from the sky. The ice shield bloomed like a four-leaf clover, shaking when lightning struck it.
Rakel gritted her teeth and increased the thickness of the shield as the lightning danced across its surface. When the attack was finally spent, Rakel shattered her shield, forming a cloud of razor sharp daggers, which she rained down on the surrounding Chosen soldiers.
The Verglas troops, free from magical assault, sprang against the Chosen, engaging them in combat.
She turned her gaze to the municipal building and saw the weather-boy gaping down at her. “Shoot!” he shouted—his voice barely more than an anxious peep over the shouts of the soldiers. He ran towards an observation platform, but a wall of ice pushed him straight over the edge of the roof. He shouted as he fell and landed in a large, cushy pile of snow Rakel had summoned for the occasion. He fell again when she whisked the snow away, and before he could stand, bands of thick ice spread across his ankles, knees, wrists, elbows, and hips, freezing him to the ground.
The young man shouted in frustration. Rakel ignored him and raised an ice shield behind her. The wolf that was leaping for her open back hit it—nose first—and was flipped head over tail.
Rakel put a loving hand on the ice shield as she smiled benevolently at the wolf. Her ice shield was not a crude, plain wall of ice, but a beautifully sculpted shield that possessed the same flourishes as the royal crest, except for the reindeer standing in front of a snowflake emblazoned on its center.
When the wolf lunged at her again, Rakel sent the shield forward, and it rammed into the wolf with the force of a stampeding bull reindeer.
The wolf yipped, hit the ground, and howled when an ice collar snapped shut around its neck. The collar was connected to a short chain that held it anchored to a block of ice. The wolf barked and tried to transform—its fur going from a fluffy wolf pelt to the white of a snow bear. When its throat wouldn’t grow due to the constriction of the ice collar, the wolf choked and coughed. Rakel snapped a cage around it—one that had three interlocking layers of bars, and a ceiling cut like a gemstone.
The wolf changed into a fox and managed to slip from the collar, but in neither its fox, wolf, nor snow bear form could it break through the cage bars.
Ahh yes…so the shifter is their scout. We will have to keep an eye out for foxes in the future. Rakel smiled in satisfaction as the brutish magic-user gnawed on one of the bars of the cage, yelping when it chipped a tooth.
“Princess!” a soldier shouted.
The Verglas soldiers had subdued the Chosen troops whom previously surrounded them and reorganized their ranks so they were spread around Rakel in a protective formation. The soldiers on one end of the formation were tossed aside when the young girl with the strength magic pushed through them, wildly swinging her fists to clear her path.
She’s the tricky one, Rakel thought, her brow furrowing as she slammed her lovely ice shield into the girl. She shattered it with her elbow. Coming up with the plan to confront the girl had been the most difficult. If Rakel tried to imprison her in a cage—like the shapeshifter—she would, given enough time, be able to break out. The easiest route would be to beat her senseless, but such a brutal method didn’t appeal to Rakel, so after some deep discussion with Captain Halvor, Rakel had decided on an uncomfortable—but more humane—method of subduing her.
“Back up,” Rakel said to the soldiers. The Verglas troops took one look at her fingers—where snowflakes swirled and dazzled—and scrambled backwards.
The young girl laughed as ice started to encase her body. “That won’t work on me,” she said, cracking and shattering it as she moved in on Rakel.
Rakel allowed her to draw close, and then coated the girl’s body in ice that was as thick as a finger length. The girl rolled her eyes and stopped so she could flex her muscles and crack the ice.
The ice cracked, but as the girl had stopped moving, Rakel was able to snap an iceberg shut around her, encasing all but her head in a chunk of ice that was as big as the courtyard’s three-tiered fountain.
The g
irl squirmed, but the ice had conformed to her body like a mold with no wriggle room.
“I apologize. You’re going to get cold, but I do not expect the following battle to last long. So you will not experience hypothermia or frostbite,” Rakel said.
“What? That was not a fair fight! Stop—I want another go,” the girl shouted.
A soldier from Frodi’s squad saluted Rakel. “Well done, Princess. You were able to counter-attack so much better today!”
“Thank you,” Rakel said wryly as she stepped around the body of an unconscious Chosen soldier. “Though not having to fight off Farrin Graydim had more to do with it than practiced skill. Are we ready?”
“Just about. The courtyard and municipal building have been cleared of all enemy soldiers. You’ll be facing less than half their force, as some of the villagers took it upon themselves to help us. We’ve also heard whistles from all the squads. They will arrive in approximately two minutes.”
“And Frodi and the other magic users?”
“No problems reported.”
“Excellent. Thank you, soldier. You’d better join the others.”
“Yes, Princess.” He saluted and hurried towards the municipal building, scurrying behind it.
Rakel walked a circle—ignoring the cursing enemy magic users—and checked to see that Snorri’s promise of two smaller city gates within eyesight of the courtyard was correct. She tugged on her magic, smiling grimly. If a deep, uncontrollable sleep is the payment for my magic, today will almost certainly activate it. I hope Captain Halvor is wrong.
Rakel pulled her hair free from its braid, perking when she heard a handful of whistles that came from several different directions.
Here they come!
Verglas soldiers—dragging unarmored, Glowma citizens with them—sprinted out of alleyways, lanes, and roads. Chosen troops ran after them, snarling like animals as they hacked at them.
Rakel cut a precise—but small—line between the two groups with her typical spikes of ice—purposely leaving a few holes. The division gave the Verglas soldiers the space they needed. They increased the distance and fled to the municipal building, crowding around it.