Winter's Crown

by Alexandra Little

  “Do you know how to use it?”

  I turned; it was Dalandaras, his walking sticks and snowshoes in one hand, his pack in the other.

  “Yes,” I found the companion belt and pulled it out as well.

  My father appeared behind Dalandaras. He didn’t look affected by my lashing out. I didn’t know if I wanted some sign that he was. He held not only his sword but a rifle, one of the new breech-loaders that were slowly replacing the muskets. This one looked slightly altered from the service rifles, sleeker maybe, but I couldn’t quite pin down the difference. “Is a bullet as useful as a blade?” he asked.

  Dalandaras examined it. “It could be,” he said. “We do not use them, so I cannot say for certain.””

  “What else should I bring?” I asked.

  “Your Aerik is fetching rations. Everything else is taken care of.”

  “Fine,” I tied my sword to my rucksack and was about to swing it over my shoulder when I realized I was still wearing Dalandaras’ cloak. “Thanks,” I said as I handed it back and grabbed one of my own.

  “I will escort you as far as I can,” my father said.

  Outside, Zarah and Aerik waited with the other elves. Both were dressed to travel in the cold.

  “Is your father allowing this?” That came out bitingly too; I didn’t know whether to regret it or not care.

  Zarah smiled. “I am of age, and my father thinks I might be safer with you, in case all of Winter’s Crown starts collapsing into itself. And Lady Eliawen also thinks my climbing skills could be of use. Besides, I helped you open that thing. I would be a bad friend if I didn’t help you see this through.”

  I hugged her, and she returned it.

  We hurried through the Fort. There was a flurry of activity between soldiers and civilians alike, yet the crowds parted to let us through. They even managed to bow to my father. Did they think that their commander was abandoning them? Or that he had something to do with this mess?

  The town’s roads were crowded with miners coming back in. It was a struggle to reach the quartermaster’s office to obtain wooden skis. I had little experience on them, but Dalandaras was insistent that skiing was the only way to make any speed.

  We carried the skis and poles even when we were past the town walls. Instead of heading down the crowded trade route we angled to the left, away from the roads and the ruins, and up the gentle slope to the eastern mountain range. It took some work to secure my feet with the ropes; by the time I managed it, Zarah and Aerik had already started ahead with Eliawen and Lorandal. They all moved on the snow with ease; even Aerik, whose arm was still splinted.

  “I’d have thought you’d have tried these by now,” my father said.

  I figured that he’d think I was running away if I suddenly took up skis. “Snow shoes were easier for the distance,” I said instead.

  “I will go a few more miles with you,” Father said, putting on his own skis.

  “It isn’t necessary.” I repeated.

  “I want to make sure you are well clear of the ruins.”

  I dug the poles into the snow, and felt the slightest of tremors. “What is that?”

  Father looked around. “I don’t see anything.”

  Dalandaras closed his eyes. “I can feel it.”

  The tremors turned into rumbling I could hear, echoing through the valley. I couldn’t pinpoint where it came from.

  “Avalanche?” my father asked.

  I looked across the valley towards the location of the ruins, but there didn’t seem to be any further collapse.

  Down on the trade road, a horse bolted, its rider falling to the ground. Cart horses panicked, taking its cargo off the road.

  “Dalandaras…?” I asked.

  It was a whirlwind at first, a faint swirl of snow I had seen many times up here. But it became something more. It picked up rocks and snow and frozen dirt in its winds. It swirled upwards, condensing together, taking the shape of a hulking colossus. It was a primitive body, with a bulky torso and arms and legs and resembled neither human nor elf. There were no hands or feet, but its form was crisscrossed with glowing lines, like chains binding all of its parts together. It was twice the height of the men and women on the road.

  “Did your grandfather say anything about this?” my father asked, his eyes wide.

  “No,” Dalandaras replied.

  “Do you know what is it?” I demanded.

  “If I knew, I would tell you,” Dalandaras replied. “But this is beyond my knowledge.”

  The traffic on the road halted. Those nearest to it, miners and merchants with their carts of ore and supplies, backed away slowly. Horses yanked against their reins, shying away from the colossus. As the horses started to panic, people did too, and they turned and ran.

  It wasn’t the only creation rising up out of the ground.

  The rumbling turned into tremors. Across the valley in dozens of spots, from the road to the snow and nearly up to us, there were more spouts of rock and ice. But none of these were fully formed; they were small, half-made, deformed imitations of the colossus. Some fell into themselves and turned back into dirt and rock; others managed to take a form and stand upright, wobbling like a child learning to walk.

  “We have to go,” Dalandaras said. “Now.”

  The colossus lurched forward. Fear turned to hysteria as the hundreds on the road scattered. Miners and merchants alike ran for the Fort, or towards the mountains on the sides of the valley, or back down the road. The colossus turned towards the Fort, his limbs smashing through the abandoned carts as if they were twigs. Supplies—rations, clothing, tools——and raw ore scattered everywhere in the snow. It swiped at anybody caught near it. It caught two men with its rock-ice arm, sending them flying off to the side. They landed in the snow and lay there, unmoving. But it didn’t pursue anyone; it aimed for the town and Fort.

  “We have to do something,” I said. The knowledge that this was my fault invaded my bones deeper than the cold.

  “There is nothing we can do,” Dalandaras replied. He grabbed my arm, tugging me away. “Come, Evalandriel.”

  “Go with him now,” Father urged. “I must return to my men.”

  “You are cut off from the Fort,” Dalandaras said. “To charge that creature now would be suicide.”

  The soldiers on the town walls scrambled into action. I could hear their shouts and the pop of gunshots and see the puffs of smoke from the muskets on the wall. If the musket balls hit the colossus, it gave no sign of it.

  The soldiers converged onto the cannons, loading and rotating them to face the creature.

  “Will it leave the men alone if it follows me?”

  “I do not know,” Dalandaras replied. “But if it is truly a creation of the apparition, it will be drawn to you.”

  “Right.” I unhooked my skis and dropped my pack, but drew my sword. Feeling the leather-wrapped hilt beneath my fingers was like seeing an old friend again. And with it came the knowledge that Mother would never have abandoned any sailor or civilian, not on her watch.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  With a breath and a prayer I charged down the slope, my feet sinking into the snow. One of the small half-formed creatures rose out of the ground in front of me, its limbs wrapped with a faint imitation of the colossus’ glow. I cut it down, slicing through it with ease. It crumbled back into dirt and snow, and didn’t rise again.

  Cannon fire boomed across the valley. The first shot hit the ground behind the colossus, exploding a cloud of fire and snow. The second and third shots hit, pushing it to the ground. Volley after volley hit it, obscuring it in a cloud of smoke and ice.

  They stopped firing.

  I waited.

  The colossus rose, growing up from the ground as it had before, taking the shape it had before. I wasn’t certain, but it even looked a little bigger.

  The cannons fired again, but this time the colossus advanced.

/>   The booms and the stinging stench of sulfur and chalk and burnt paper reminded me of battles past, of turning our ships broadside in tossing seas and praying that we struck the pirates harder than they struck us. There weren’t just cannonballs, but canister shots with dozens of smaller shrapnel meant to slaughter anyone on deck, or chain-shots that destroyed rigging, or fire arrows soaked in pitch that would burn you out of your ship.

  I could deal with that enemy. They could bleed like I could bleed. I didn’t know this one. But I knew how to hold a sword, and I knew the language of the ruins.

  I cut down the little creatures as I went, but more rose before me.

  The volley of cannon fire slowed. I reached the road not fifty feet behind the colossus, dodging the debris left by the creature. The closer I came to the moving mass of ice, the better I could see the glowing lines. They weren’t solid lines, but lettering. The ruins’ language again. And in its glowing chains I could see the slick darkness of the apparition.

  It wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but it was all I had.

  I grabbed a rock from the road, tested its weight, and threw it with all my strength at the colossus. “Here!” I shouted. “I’m here!”

  A last cannon shell struck the colossus, consuming the creature in fire. The fire curled back towards me, nearly singing me with the heat. But the fire disappeared, the colossus unaffected, and the creation turned.

  Okay, that rock worked too well.

  I gripped my sword, raised it in defense. “You will leave them alone.”

  It didn’t come out in the language of the ruins, or with any force or power. Instead, my voice was shaking.

  This was definitely not a good idea.

  The colossus raised its arm.

  I slashed at it, the blade cutting through the ice and dirt and the binding. The ice reformed, my slash disappearing, the binding intact.

  I had to know how to destroy this thing. Just as I had known the language, as I had known how to draw the power to battle the apparition. I just had to find the knowledge.

  I dodged the slam of its arm, my feet slipping on the road. I cut at one of the half-creatures in my way, destroying it with ease. Why did only one of these creatures form into a colossus? Why were the little ones so easy to strike down?

  I turned back to the colossus, aiming for its torso, slashing at the bindings there before slipping underneath an arm. It was slow, but the strike of its arm only a few inches behind me jolted the ground and knocked me from my feet.

  I cried out everything I could think of as I struck at it, from “stop” to “end” to “you won’t hurt me” and “you won’t take one step more”. Nothing worked. No otherly language came to me.

  I turned towards Dalandaras and Father and ran as hard as I could. My feet sank into the snow. The ground trembled with each step of the colossus and I fell to my knees. I pushed myself back up only to fall after a few steps. The tremors jolted me away from the path I had carved out, my legs sinking into deep snow.

  Father and Dalandaras battled down the slope towards me. Both stumbled in the snow, and half-created creatures rose up in front of them. Father and Dalandaras cut them down but they only came up again.

  I fell again and started crawling, but the quaking of the colossus drew closer. My sword slipped from my grasp. My fingers were clumsy as even my fur lined gloves could not keep out the sting of the snow.

  Mother, help me.

  I seized the hilt and brought it up as the colossus brought its arm down.

  But it wasn’t my sword that met it.

  A tangle of darkness rose up from the snow and struck the colossus in its heart. The colossus staggered backward. It started to crumble, chunks of ice and rock falling from its form.

  The darkness took a more solid shape. It wasn’t the apparition. At least, not the apparition from the ruins. It hummed with the same power, but not with its taint. It took the form of a woman. She wore armor and chainmail, and her hair was long and tangled. I was convinced that if I reached out and touched them I would find them to be real. But she was only half-there, her form ghostly and faint.

  The woman turned her face towards me. Her face was round, her skin smooth and pale. Her eyes were white and dead. In her hand she held a long sword. She raised it up. My breath caught as it glinted in the sun, as solid as Dauntless was. I waited for the blade to come down on me. Instead, she brought the hilt to her chest, blade pointing upward, before bringing it down to her side. She was saluting me.

  The colossus reformed itself behind her.

  An apparition of my own?

  If she was going to save me, I was going to ask questions. “Get it!”

  My words had no force, but she did what I ordered. She turned on the colossus, sword raised. I didn’t wait to see how the fight would end. I scrambled to my feet and ran. The tendrils of the new darkness were everywhere, half-formed ghosts curling up from the ground next to the colossus’ creatures. They weren’t fully formed like the apparition-woman that had saluted me. They were unfinished puppet imitations. They curled around the stone creatures and crushed them, sending dirt and ice and rock chips flying outward. They stung my cheeks and caught at my clothes as I dodged them.

  Father and Dalandaras didn’t know which to attack. Nothing came after them as the creatures turned on each other.

  “What were you doing?” my father demanded as I reached them.

  “I don’t know!” I grabbed him and we dragged each other back up the hill to our skis.

  “You ran into cannon fire!” Dalandaras’ voice was thick with fury.

  “I know!”

  We half-ran, half-crawled back up the slope to our skis. The others skied back down to us, their faces shocked.

  “What happened?” Aerik demanded. “What was that?”

  “If I knew, I’d tell you,” I said. I sheathed my sword and grabbed my pack.

  “Dalandaras?” Lorandal asked.

  “Li ora an,” he said quietly.

  “Whatever that was,” my father said. “I think it’s being taken care of.”

  I finally turned back.

  The colossus crumbled back into the ice and dirt it had formed from. The female ghost disappeared with it. The colossus’ servants collapsed, and the tendrils of shadow disappeared. There was nothing left but stunned people. Cautious soldiers started to inch their way to the heap of debris that they had been battling only moments before.

  “Are you all right?” Zarah asked.

  I wasn’t sure, but I nodded anyway and I slipped my skis on. “Let’s go.”

  “If the apparition plans to send an army after you,” my father said grimly. “Then I am coming with you.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I felt fantastic.

  We had the summer sun to aid us, and it hung in the sky for hours as we skied through the mountain valley. Eliawen and Lorandal didn’t hesitate in their route, and only slowed when Father, Aerik, and Zarah couldn’t keep up. But nothing slowed me; there were no aches or pains, and no fatigue in my limbs. Even my mind was unburdened. I didn’t dwell on the colossus creation, or the ghost woman who had fought on my behalf. All I did was follow the elves.

  By the time the sun swung low to touch the mountains, it was already long past what would have been the end of the day for the Fort and the town. I would have been in bed, or close to it. It was Aerik who finally gave out, and we stopped. From their packs Eliawen and Lorandal produced canvas, rope, stakes, and several short metal poles. They moved away from the center of the valley and towards an uncovered slope of ground and rock. There, they set to work on two tents.

  “How much further until we arrive at your grandfather’s?” my father asked Dalandaras.

  Zarah and I helped Aerik out of his skis. Both of their faces had been whipped red by the wind, their breath ragged puffs of white in the air. The splint had disappeared from Aerik’s arm. My face flushed in shame that I hadn’t noticed it earlier. I was grateful that Lorandal’s medicine had helped,
but I still should have found a way to keep him at the Fort.

  “Not too far,” Dalandaras replied. “We should reach it by tomorrow evening.”

  “How far have we come?”

  “Close to sixty miles. It will be another sixty or so tomorrow.”

  “Sixty miles!” Zarah said.

  Sixty miles, and I could probably travel another sixty before feeling even a little fatigued.

  “I have to admit I am surprised that you all have made it this far in the time you have.”

  “We’re not as incapable as you think we are,” my father replied as he gathered up his skis.

  Zarah and Aerik dragged themselves towards where Lorandal and Eliawen were erecting the tents.

  “How are you feeling?” Dalandaras asked.

  It took a moment before I realized he was speaking to me. “Fine.”

  “Are you tired? Do you feel weak at all, or dizzy?”

  “No.”

  “Even from the journey?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “I am not certain,” Dalandaras replied.

  “Your balm helped.”

  “It should have worn off hours ago. You should be as out of breath as the others.”

  I could feel my father’s eyes on me. I didn’t like the idea of being interrogated by him as well. I didn’t know why I wasn’t feeling the effects of the distance, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Do you think the apparition could have followed us this quickly?” I asked instead.

  “I am not certain,” Dalandaras said again. “But nothing has infinite strength. After its attack on the Fort, I think we will be safe for tonight. Come, eat, and then sleep. It will be a long journey again tomorrow.”

  Maybe it would be better if I at least pretended to be tired. I didn’t need any more eyes on me.

  I lagged behind Dalandaras with Father as we shuffled towards the tents. Out of the corner of my eye I could still see him watching me. “Are you alright?” my father asked.