by K. M. Shea
Free of the chaos and craziness that had ruled her life for weeks now.
“Looook ooooout!”
When Rakel realized she knew that voice, and that voice implied that her carefree day was in danger, she snapped to attention.
Phile—clinging to the back of a massive, velvet-brown reindeer—galloped in their direction.
“Do you have a clear shot?” Rakel asked Knut—the leader of three soldiers who wandered with her and the children as her “guard.”
“Now Princess, I reckon you’re mad at her for leaving you without warning, but that’s no reason to shoot ’er,” Knut said, motioning for the other two soldiers—who had started nocking their bows—to stand down.
“Pity,” Rakel muttered.
“That’s the biggest reindeer I’ve ever seen,” Gerta said.
“Its antlers have a strange appearance,” Rakel said. Considering the reindeer was almost as tall as a horse, its antlers seemed disproportionately small. They were there, but they didn’t have the extensive height and branching that her books showed.
“It’s a bull. The older ones cast their horns in early winter, so his are growing in again,” Kai said with confidence.
“I see…I don’t think she’s going to stop.” Rakel watched as Phile and her reindeer mount galloped closer, tossing snow in the air as they ran. “No, she’s not. Come, children.” Rakel took their hands and pulled them back, but she didn’t need to.
When he was about twenty feet away, the reindeer skidded to a stop and bucked, throwing Phile from his back. She whooped as she spun through the air and hit a snowdrift.
“Hoodlum,” Rakel said.
Phile rolled a few times, then popped to her feet.
“Happy birthday!” Phile said, gesturing proudly to the irate reindeer. He shook his head and pawed at the snow.
It was quiet for several long seconds before Rakel realized Phile was addressing her. “Me?”
“Yes!” Phile said.
Gerta and Kai clapped and cooed over the gift. Gerta meandered closer to the reindeer, but when it snorted, Kai yanked her backwards.
“My birthday is in the summer,” Rakel said.
Phile dropped her hands. “You’re joking. With your powers, you were born in the summer?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s a load of rot. But it doesn’t matter—consider him a gift for all the birthdays I’ve missed. Next year, I’ll steal you something better. I had to catch this boy—yikes,” Phile said, pulling her hand back when the reindeer snapped at her. “He could still use some taming.”
Rakel studied the reindeer, feeling touched in spite of herself. She couldn’t remember when she last received a birthday gift—it was probably before her magic was discovered.
“We’ll have to get him friendlier by the time we invade Ostfold—or Oskar and Captain Halvor won’t let you ride him.”
Rakel watched Gerta and Kai slowly approach the gigantic reindeer again. “It’s General Halvor, now.”
“So you picked up on what was going on, hmm? Good job. You must have corrected some of those nasty officers.”
“Colonel Vardr was the biggest problem, but Halvor seems to have taken command without any major difficulties,” Rakel said. Her interest in the reindeer finally got the best of her, and she edged forward, offering her palm to the ornery beast.
He turned away, ignoring her, and started digging, searching for buried greenery.
“He’ll come around,” Phile promised, patting his shoulder. She backed away when he tried to ram her with his horns. “I think.”
“Happy Birthday, Princess!” Gerta shouted.
Rakel smiled at her, although she barely heard the comment. Phile’s return had set the wheels in her mind turning. Now she was more open to applying pressure to Halvor to get him to march on Ostfold.
“Do you think Steinar is okay?” Rakel asked.
“Who?” Phile said.
“My brother.”
“Oh. Well, the appointed two weeks haven’t passed yet, and…”
“And?”
Phile squinted at the sky. “There’s a chance, now that Farrin is there, that he’ll survive.”
The weight of the past few weeks threatened to crush Rakel. She felt the opposite. Her brother was normal, after all, and Farrin’s charity seemed to extend exclusively to magic users.
She hadn’t met Steinar, ever, and she only had his portraits in books to judge him by. He had kept her imprisoned on Ensom like their parents…but like his parents, he hadn’t killed her, when it would have been the safest thing for him to do. I would like to spare his life in return, Rakel thought. “Children, it’s time to go back.”
“I thought you said today was a ‘rare, free day’…” Kai said as Gerta jumped and hopped, making snow crunch under her feet.
“It was, but something came up,” Rakel said, offering them a smile.
“Going to go talk with General Halvor?” Phile asked, snatching up the leadline attached to the reindeer’s makeshift halter. She tugged on it. The reindeer glared but trailed after her.
“Yes.”
“Good, I’ll come with. Maybe he’ll finally talk to me again.”
“That’s unlikely.”
“Don’t crush my hopes, Princess. I just gave you a birthday gift.”
“A wild, unbroken gift that could potentially kill me.”
“Yes, isn’t he just like you?”
“I dare you to tell Oskar and General Halvor that.”
“Pass!”
“Mmhmm.”
“Our best tactic would be to sweep down from the mountains and push them south, through the palace and through Ostfold,” General Halvor said, indicating the north side of the Ostfold palace. Snorri had created a model for the discussion using wooden blocks borrowed from a merchant’s child. “We have an approximate soldier count, but our main concern is the magic users. In addition to the four we’ve dealt with in the past two battles, it seems there are eight more serving at the palace. There are several others included in their ranks, but they have skills unsuited for fighting and are not counted for our purposes. Most of their magic force, thankfully, is south, with their leader.”
“Do we have any new magical recruits from Glowma?” Rakel asked. She had requested that Oskar and General Halvor extend the invitation city-wide—although she didn’t think many would respond. Still…twelve mages? Ragnar could transport and keep only one elf active at a time—and it took him a long time to recoup his energy for a second summons. If his elf spent the entire time keeping Farrin busy, even with the other magic users, twelve magic-using enemies was a high order.
Oskar raised a finger in the air and smiled. “Yes, three more magic users have joined our ranks.”
“All three possess powers that will be helpful in the battle,” General Halvor added. “They are being briefed by Ragnar and Frodi right now.”
“Excellent,” Rakel said.
“I still think you should attack the open west flank,” Phile said, flinging Foedus so it impaled the bare ground west of the model palace.
Oskar shook his head. “It’s too open. Even I know that, and I’m just an attendant.”
“There is a gulley there that gives the palace defenders high ground. If we came up that way, there would be a steep climb—a situation never favorable for an attacker,” General Halvor said.
“Yes, but you can’t assemble an army due north of the palace—you would have to start your run halfway up the mountain,” Phile said. “Wouldn’t it be better to fight indoors? Little Wolf must know the palace by heart.”
Rakel awkwardly cleared her throat. “I don’t.”
“What? Oh—even though it’s been twelve years since you lived there, I assure you they won’t have changed much. Palace construction is expensive.”
“It’s not that. It’s…after my powers manifested, I no longer lived in the palace,” Rakel said.
Phile’s eyes were slits. “What.”
> “My parents had a tower built just north of the palace. That is where I stayed until I was exiled to Ensom Peak.”
Phile said nothing to this revelation, but she clenched her hands so tightly they shook.
The room suffocated with silence.
Oskar smoothed his hair. “If we can attack from a different direction, I feel it would be best for the magic users to battle it out north of the palace—or what is left of it, anyway.”
“Agreed, but unless we choose to attack Ostfold first, there is no alternative direction,” General Halvor said. “Pushing through Ostfold would be a poor choice, as it would give the Chosen more time to secure the palace. Also, they might be less inclined to flee because we would have them pinned in on all sides by the mountains.”
Rakel kept her face impassive as they argued the finer points of tactics. Feeling eyes on her, she looked over and smiled at Liv—the female magic user.
“Thank you for inviting me and the other magic users to the meeting,” she said, keeping her voice low as she glanced at the model. “We appreciate being kept in the loop.”
“You are as important as our soldiers—and unfortunately there is no structural organization for us, so it is harder to communicate everything,” Rakel said, lifting her shoulders in an elegant shrug.
“Yes, but I especially appreciate it. I felt so useless sitting out the battle for Glowma,” Liv said.
“Phile tells me you saved many lives by purifying wounds and banishing infection.”
“I’m glad I could help, it’s just…I wish my magic were more useful. I liked it enough when I was younger—it was easy to hide—but now…” Liv shook her head. “I can purify wounds, yes, but it’s not like anyone needs purified water or food on the battlefield.”
“Purified water has its uses,” Rakel said, thinking of the various experiments she had run with different kinds of water and her ice magic over the past decade.
“Yes, to drink,” Liv said bitterly.
“No, there’s also…”
“This still doesn’t solve our magic-user problem. If Ragnar and his elf-friend are fighting the other magic users here, who will take care of Colonel Graydim?” Oskar asked.
Rakel’s thoughts scattered in a million directions. Liv’s power, purified water, ice, and the way she had captured the strength magic user…could she? “Liv and I will.”
“What?” Liv squeaked.
“Forgive me, Princess, but that is an unacceptable suggestion,” General Halvor said.
Snorri said something.
“You’re mumbling, Snorri,” Phile said.
“How?” Snorri asked.
Rakel took a wooden cup of water and passed it to Liv. “Could you purify this?”
“Yes,” Liv said, flushing under the sudden scrutiny. She took it from Rakel, and light played oddly on the water’s surface. “Done.” She handed it back.
Rakel took the cup and tapped her magic. Snow puffed around her fingers, and frost twirled around the outside of the cup, but the water did not freeze. “Normally when water reaches a certain temperature, it freezes,” Rakel explained. “But there is an exception: purified water—if undisturbed—will not freeze until it is agitated.” To make her point, Rakel slowly tipped the cup and poured out some of the water. It poured like liquid, but when it hit the table, it began to form a crinkled column of ice.
“How did you discover this?” Oskar asked, pushing his eyebrows up in surprise.
“When Steinar first ascended the throne, I was suspicious that he might have me poisoned, so I froze a lot of my drinks to watch for different poisons.”
“Who would have thought that your paranoia would come in handy?” Phile said, winking at her.
“I assume the plan would be for Liv to purify water, for you to freeze it, and then to pour it on Farrin?” General Halvor asked.
Rakel nodded. “It won’t be part of a magic attack, so he can’t deflect it. While he tries to get out of the ice, someone should retrieve his sword. He’ll be much easier to deal with then.”
“Why?” General Halvor asked.
“Because he uses his sword to activate his reflective powers. He can reflect without it, but the sword gives him a way to direct his attacks, and I suspect it is much harder for him to use his power across his entire body at once.”
“How do you know this?” Snorri asked.
“Because he told me,” Rakel said.
“You know,” Phile said, tapping her nose. “I think I have an idea how we can attack the east side—should Little Wolf be willing.”
“Sing out, Robber Maiden,” Oskar chuckled. “It can’t be any stranger than purified water turning into ice!”
Phile grinned and almost fell out of her chair as she leaned forward with eagerness. “Just wait,” she promised.
Rakel turned half an ear to Phile’s plan and mentally congratulated herself. I knew there was a way for me to beat him. I can’t wait for a rematch—I’m finally going to beat Farrin Graydim!
Standing at the foot of a mountain, Rakel felt at home. The air was cooler and the snow much heavier—perfect for what she wanted.
She exhaled and leaned against her reindeer. He bumped her as he lowered his head to scratch his leg but did not seem to mind the contact.
“Can you do it?” Phile called as she approached, her hands shoved in a fur muff she had liberated from Rakel’s belongings.
“There’s ample snow,” Rakel said. “I’ve been moving it since we arrived two days ago. Guiding it down and turning it into ice will be the difficult part of your plan. Have the rest of the soldiers arrived?”
“Yes, and they’re in place. We’re on schedule for tomorrow’s attack,” Phile said, glancing up at the mountain range that framed the northern parts of Verglas. The mountain nearest to them rumbled, and a cascade of snow slid from the peak. “You’re being discreet.”
“Even if they don’t have another ice magic user, I suspect they would notice when some of the surrounding mountains dump snow that does not turn into an avalanche.” Rakel turned to another mountain and wriggled her fingers. Even though it was miles away, the snow responded and fell from the mountain like sparkling, wintery falls.
“Are you sure you want to ride him into battle?” Phile asked, nodding at the reindeer. “I know I gave him to you, and I said you should take him to war, but he’s still barely trained.”
“He’ll do better than a horse,” Rakel said, scratching the reindeer’s forehead. “I’m thinking about naming him Frigid.”
“It suits him,” Phile grunted.
“He’s not bad, just unaffectionate,” Rakel said.
The newly named Frigid waggled his reindeer tail and nibbled a stick.
“I’ll take a horse any day, but I’m glad you like him. It was hellish trying to capture him for you.”
“Princess, Phile, I wondered where you two had gone. Enjoying the view?” Oskar asked, gesturing to the Verglas royal palace and Ostfold, which were settled in the crook of the valley. The capital was sprawled like a child’s playset with little puffs of smoke curling from the wooden cottages and homes. Although Ostfold had not suffered major damages, the palace had taken the brunt of the harm when the Chosen had taken the capital. Some of the walls were toppled, anything made of wood was blackened from fire, and one of the wings had been destroyed.
“The city looks sweet, but the palace has seen better days. Still, even if it was in pristine condition, I wouldn’t ever want to live there,” Phile said, shoving her hands deeper in the muff.
Oskar raised his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t want to live in a palace?”
“All penned-up and boxed-up? Nope. Give me open plains and open spaces—it’s why I admire Verglas. You’ve got untamed land stretching between cities—wild, but not deadly. Not like the Baris desert,” Phile said.
“I see,” Oskar said. “Phile, would you excuse the princess and me for a moment?”
Phile looked to Rakel, who nodded. “It’s fine, than
k you.”
“Anything for you, Little Wolf. Enjoy your conversation—I think I’ll go ogle General Halvor for a bit.” Phile started towards one of the encampments tucked in a copse of trees, whistling a tune as she walked.
“Sir Reindeer,” Oskar said, bowing at Frigid.
“I’ve decided to name him Frigid.”
“Not Hugs…or Velvet? I thought females named their pets more cutely,” Oskar said, thrusting his gloved hands into the folds of his cloak.
Rakel smiled but did not take the bait. “What did you wish to discuss?”
He was quiet for a few minutes as he stared down at Ostfold. Dusk was starting to fall, and one by one, tiny windows in the houses and palace were lit from within by fires, candles, and oil lamps. “I wanted to be certain that you are comfortable with tomorrow’s attack—and what winning will mean. Halvor assumes that because you agreed to it, it means you want to do it. I know better.”
“Oh?”
Oskar glanced at her. “I know Farrin Graydim terrifies you. Yes, you’re eager to beat him, but the way he can turn your magic against you frightens you.”
Rakel stiffened a wince. He was right. Part of what made Farrin’s power so maddening was that he could affect her magic. She always had her magic. It was her only constant companion. It was more than unsteadying to know that another could wrest control from her. That, and the strange gestures of affection he occasionally bestowed upon her put her greatly off balance.
“It will be frightening,” she admitted, “but I am certain Liv and I can win.”
“Very well. I believe you,” Oskar said. He rested an elbow on Frigid’s back. The reindeer eyed him but stayed put. “But that does raise another point. If we are successful and the Chosen army is trounced, your brother will be free and will very likely take command.”
“He is King,” Rakel said.
“And you have no wish to be Queen,” Oskar said.
“You asked me previously, and my answer remains no.”
“Could you explain why?”
“Maybe when I was younger—and angrier and more bitter—I would have been interested, but not now. First, it wouldn’t be long until other countries sent assassins after me—having a talented magic user in leadership is a dangerous situation and creates an unequal channel of power. And also…working with you and General Halvor has taught me just how difficult it is to be a leader. Lives depend upon you. The future of a generation—of a country—will be determined by your actions. I…I would rather be the Snow Queen and be free…with my magic.”