Dawn of Mist

by Helen Scheuerer

  The conditions were worse than the day before. A blizzard raged around them as they climbed their way to the base of the final peak. It was harder to breathe up here, and Henri found herself gasping for air. Endurance. She, they, had to endure. To endure was to be the best warriors of the Valia kindred. And so she put one boot in front of the other.

  There was a soft cry from behind her. Henri whirled around as quickly as her bulky layers would let her.

  Addi had slipped and fallen. She wasn’t getting up.

  Sahara was suddenly at her side, hauling her upright. But Addi’s breathing was shallow and her eyes were closed.

  ‘She can’t go any further,’ Sahara called out to Makena and Quinn.

  The two mentors exchanged looks. ‘Then she stays here,’ Quinn said, gesturing to the savage surroundings.

  ‘What?’

  ‘There is no place in the kindred for the weak.’

  The rest of their unit was silent. Only the wind howled around them.

  But Henri had never seen such fire in her sister’s eyes as Sahara took Addi’s full weight and said, ‘I will not leave her behind.’

  ‘It is the Valian Way,’ Makena said sternly. ‘The way by which you will one day rule.’

  Henri watched on in shock as her sister steeled herself against their superiors. ‘I’ll not leave her.’

  Athene cursed. ‘For Rheyah’s sake. What does that mean for our mission, then? You and Addi would sabotage us like that?’

  ‘You don’t think a Valian’s life is worth the loss of some flag?’ Sahara snapped.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Henri heard herself say.

  The others did nothing to hide their surprise.

  ‘Sahara stays with Addi, the rest of us go on to the summit and retrieve the flag. There is no rule against splitting up that I’m aware of. Is that correct, Makena?’

  Makena considered this, clutching her furs tightly around herself. ‘That’s correct.’

  Henri locked eyes with Sahara. ‘So be it?’

  Sahara nodded, taking the pack with the tent from Quinn. ‘So be it.’

  They left Sahara and Addi halfway up the final slope. Addi’s lips were blue, her face grey, and she was rambling incoherently. Sahara said no more, but clenched her teeth and began to set up the tent herself. Soon, she and Addi were mere specks in the sheet of white stretching down the alps. Henri knew she wouldn’t feel at ease again until her twin was back in her sight.

  ‘It’s not looking good for her,’ Tilly murmured as they paused to sip from their half-frozen canteens.

  ‘She’s a dead woman,’ Athene said. ‘She should have been left. Our heir should be with us.’

  ‘Athene —’ Henri started to reprimand, but Athene bolted from their line to throw up in the snow. She retched violently, ending up on all fours to heave.

  ‘Athene …’ Henri’s voice softened. She hadn’t realised her friend was unwell. She went to her and held back her braid as Athene emptied the contents of her stomach. But Athene wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened, looking determined.

  ‘Let’s just get this done.’

  By the time they reached the summit of the highest peak of the Kildaholm Alps, the Valia kindred-in-training were not the same girls they had been. Henri was only just able to stay upright. Tilly and Marvel had been reduced to a staggering crawl. But it didn’t matter. They were all here. Well, almost all of them.

  It was Henri who clutched the Valian flag in her aching fist. A forest-green backdrop with a silver Valian oak tree emblazoned at its centre. Beside her, Athene embedded a pole deep in the snow, and with numb fingers, Henri raised their wavering emblem into the blistering winds.

  ‘We’ve done it,’ she told their unit. ‘We made it.’

  Her voice echoed between the gullies, but she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. And scanning the blank, exhausted faces staring back at her, she knew the others didn’t either. Their group, including their mentors, lay sprawled in the icy white powder, crippled by fatigue.

  At last, Henri allowed herself to sink to her knees. Athene did the same, huddling close.

  ‘You know what this means?’ the redhead murmured.

  Henri was too tired to talk. She gave a slight shake of her head.

  ‘When Sahara becomes matriarch, we’ll be her elite kindred. We did it, Henri. We’re the next elite kindred of Valia.’

  Athene was right. Reaching the summit here meant they’d achieved the goal they’d shared their whole lives. Henri gave her friend a weak squeeze. They were exactly where they needed to be.

  They took a short break at the top, but the air was thin and they were utterly exposed to the piercing winds. Henri shouldered her pack once more, eager to begin their descent. Climbing down was even more taxing. Henri slipped on more than one occasion, Athene grabbing her elbow or her pack before she went skidding down the slopes.

  Keegan and Tilly had developed the same cough as Addi, and the sound of their rattled breathing travelled down the mountain. Henri wondered if the other Valian units were faring as badly as they were.

  It began to snow in earnest. Thick flakes rained down on them, managing to find their way between the heavy layers, so cold against bare skin that they burned. No one had the energy to talk. All they could do was push forward, ever so slowly, through the now thigh-deep powder, following the coordinates they’d marked for Sahara and Addi.

  Henri glanced at Athene. She hadn’t been sick since the ascent – that was something, at least. She knew many people did grow ill as they climbed the alps. Henri would have to watch her closely.

  When they reached the coordinates for Sahara and Addi, they couldn’t see the tent. The ravine that unfolded before them was a sea of brilliant white. Henri’s heart caught in her throat.

  ‘Where are they?’ she croaked. Sahara was her responsibility. She never should have left her. She should have stayed in her place if Sahara was going to be that immovable. Makena and Quinn’s faces betrayed nothing, but Henri could feel their energy with her magic; they were rife with paralysed panic.

  ‘They’re here somewhere,’ Athene murmured, scanning the mountainside.

  ‘We can’t just start digging away at the snow,’ Petra chimed in. ‘That could start a snowslide.’

  ‘Well, what do you suggest? I’m not sitting here waiting for my sister to freeze to death,’ Henri snapped.

  ‘No one’s going to die,’ Quinn intervened, her face a mask of calm. She pointed to a subtle mound in the snow, a hundred or so yards away. ‘There,’ she said. ‘That’s where we left them.’

  There was no movement. No sign of life.

  Henri could scarcely breathe as they approached. Her footsteps were like lead and her mind raced. If Sahara — She wouldn’t finish that thought. She wouldn’t let herself go there. The tension among their group was stifling, and they moved slowly, as though they weren’t ready to face whatever waited for them at those coordinates.

  ‘There!’ Athene exclaimed.

  There was a flutter of movement from the ridge. Henri squinted. It could be a stray caribou or a lone wolf … but … Her eyes strained —

  Relief flooded her to the core. Sahara’s charcoal furs emerged from the snow, her midnight braid unmistakeable as she made her way down to them. Thank the gods. She’s alright. She’s alive.

  But as Sahara drew closer, Henri’s relief froze in her chest. From the look on her sister’s face, she knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

  ‘Where’s Addi?’ Makena demanded when Sahara reached them.

  Sahara scanned the group, her gaze lingering on the grey tinge to Tilly and Keegan’s faces. Her graphite eyes were cold.

  ‘Gone.’

  ‘What?’ The word was like a punch to Henri’s gut. There was no way Addi had been in any shape to leave. She couldn’t have started back down the mountain on her own. What had happened while the rest of them had been at the summit?

  Sahara’s gaze met hers, st
eeled with anger. ‘Addi’s dead.’

  Quinn stepped forward. ‘That’s not …’

  Sahara closed the gap between them, her chin raised. ‘Not what? Possible? I tried to tell you. I told you —’

  No one had ever spoken to a mentor like that before. No one. As though in answer to her quickening heart, Henri’s magic thrummed wildly through her veins. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing here, what she was seeing.

  ‘Where is she?’ Makena interjected.

  Sahara tore her glare away from Quinn and pointed to the mound of snow. ‘In the tent.’

  Without another word, Makena left them shivering in the snow. Without thinking, Henri went after her. She needed to see this. To acknowledge the fall of a comrade. She trudged behind their mentor silently, reaching the half-buried tent. Makena started to dig into the pile of snow with her gloved hands. Henri joined her. It was a mindless task that numbed her spiralling thoughts. But with each push of the snow, the questions grew louder in her head … Is it true? Is she dead?

  Finally, they found the entrance to the tent, and Henri followed Makena inside.

  ‘Gods …’ Henri covered her mouth.

  There was Addi. She lay there, lifeless, her lips a dark shade of blue and her eyes closed. Ice had formed on her eyelashes.

  Beside Henri, Makena took a deep breath. ‘May she rest well with Enovius.’

  Henri’s hands shook as she reached out to touch the fallen Valian. ‘May Rheyah keep her.’

  Henri and Makena worked in silence to disassemble the tent while the rest of their unit remained further up the slope, taking what little shelter they could. Henri kept stealing glances at her mentor, but Makena’s face was a mask of steel. Addi’s body was already blanketed with fresh snow. When the tent was packed away and hoisted onto Makena’s back, the mentor made for the group.

  ‘What are you doing?’ The words burst from Henri’s mouth.

  Makena gave Henri a hard stare. ‘We have to move.’

  ‘But … what about Addi?’ Henri stammered.

  ‘She belongs to the mountain now.’

  ‘What? We can’t leave her up here. With no proper burial, with no —’

  ‘She stays. We are in no condition to lug a body down these slopes.’

  A lump formed in Henri’s throat as the truth of it latched around her heart. Makena was right; their unit was fading. Two of their kindred shared the same cough as Addi. Athene was suffering from mountain sickness. Henri herself was bone-weary. None of them had the strength to spare.

  Makena was already moving towards the others, but Henri hesitated. Hands trembling, she approached Addi’s lifeless body and removed one of her woollen gloves. Her friend wore a ring passed down from her grandmother, who had been an elite kindred. Henri pulled the silver band from Addi’s cold finger. Her mother would want something to remember her by.

  When the company arrived back in Wildenhaven, there were no celebrations. Another unit had lost a member as well. Tilly and Keegan were ushered into the medical wing, their faces grey and their coughs violent. Athene’s mountain illness had returned and she, too, was rushed away for treatment.

  In the great hall, Henri handed the Valian flag to Allehra without a word and followed Sahara to their rooms. Only once the door had clicked closed behind them did her twin turn to her, tears in her graphite eyes.

  ‘She didn’t have to die,’ Sahara said quietly.

  ‘It was the —’

  ‘For Rheyah’s sake, Henri. Don’t say the Valian Way.’

  ‘But —’

  Sahara shook her head. ‘Was it worth it? For some stupid flag? Some outdated notion of what it means to be a Valian? Her death is on our hands. And who knows who else’s …’

  ‘Sahara …’

  But there was nothing Henri could do to comfort her sister, or herself.

  Later that evening, there was a knock on their door.

  ‘Come in,’ Henri called wearily from her place before the roaring hearth.

  The door opened a fraction, enough so that a head of snow-dusted caramel hair appeared. ‘It’s me,’ said a soft voice.

  ‘Eydis!’ Henri darted forward, pulling their friend into the room. She grabbed Eydis in a warm embrace. The princess’ long arms wrapped around her and squeezed her back.

  ‘I’ve just heard,’ Eydis said, crossing the room to greet Sahara. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

  Sahara said nothing, but accepted the princess’ embrace.

  ‘Thank you,’ Henri heard herself say. ‘I’m sorry we’re meeting again under such circumstances.’

  Eydis nodded and peeled off her cloak, revealing bulky men’s clothing beneath. The winter princess had been this way ever since Henri could remember, always hiding her lanky frame beneath baggy knits and trousers. She sank into the free armchair before the fire with a sigh.

  ‘How was your trip?’ Henri asked.

  ‘Never mind that.’ Eydis waved her away. ‘How are you both?’

  ‘Fine,’ Henri said automatically.

  The glare Sahara shot her from across the room nearly burned through her.

  ‘We’re not fine,’ Sahara snapped. ‘We’ve —’

  ‘Sahara,’ Henri warned.

  Sahara folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window.

  ‘Henri,’ Eydis said. ‘I actually came to tell you that one of your friends in the medical wing is asking after you.’

  Henri’s pulse quickened. ‘Athene?’

  Eydis nodded.

  ‘Is she alright?’

  ‘All I know is that she was asking to speak to you. Go. I’ll stay and talk with Sahara.’

  Henri looked from the princess to her sister, hesitating.

  ‘Go,’ Eydis told her with another wave.

  Henri’s heart raced as she followed an attendant’s directions to the medical wing of the third Wildenhaven tower. Athene needed to speak with her? How bad was her illness? In what state was she about to find her friend?

  She burst through the doors to find Athene sitting on the edge of a cot, tying her boots with trembling hands.

  ‘What is it?’ Henri asked. ‘What happened?’

  With a glance from Athene, the attendant left them. Athene patted the space on the cot beside her, cheeks tipped pink. Bewildered, Henri sat.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded. ‘How bad is it? I thought the mountain sickness had passed.’

  ‘It …’ Athene turned to her. ‘It wasn’t mountain sickness.’

  ‘What then? Do you have what Tilly and —’

  Athene shook her head. ‘I’m not ill,’ she said. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Henri stared. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘You can’t be.’ Henri knew how stupid the words sounded as soon as they left her mouth. How would she know? Athene was her friend, but they … they never talked about —

  ‘Well, I am,’ Athene was saying.

  Henri swallowed. ‘Who …?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Doesn’t it?’

  ‘Do you know who your father was?’

  Henri baulked. No one had ever asked her that. No one in Valia ever asked about people’s fathers. She shook her head.

  ‘It’s the Valian Way.’

  Henri was numb. ‘What … what are you going to do?’

  ‘I want to keep her.’

  ‘Her? How do you know it’s a girl? You can’t be that far along.’

  ‘I’m just over six weeks. It’s early, but I can just tell.’

  ‘Just over six weeks … So it happened here?’

  Athene raised a brow and waited.

  ‘You’re going to have to tell Allehra,’ Henri said.

  ‘I know.’

  They left the medical wing and wandered the frozen grounds together. Henri’s head was spinning. Athene had been with someone … someone Henri had no idea about. And now – now Athene was going to be a mother.

  A feeling Henri didn
’t recognise stirred within her, creeping into her chest like the cold had crept into her bones.

  The Valians stayed in Wildenhaven another week, until those who’d fallen ill had recovered. Athene vowed to tell Allehra of her condition upon their return to the forest. Only Henri knew. But Athene seemed at ease with her fate, and so, despite Henri’s inner turmoil about the situation, she remained quiet.

  It was Sahara for whom Henri feared. Her sister had barely said two words since leaving Addi atop the mountain. Their fallen comrade’s ring was tucked safely in Henri’s pocket. She had told Makena that she would be the one to break the news to Addi’s mother. She didn’t know why, but it felt important that she should be the one to do it, as though it were her responsibility. Perhaps it was guilt, for not listening to Sahara when she’d demanded that they stop. Guilt for not having the guts to challenge what she knew.

  Now, Henri stood beside her twin on the deck of their ship, watching the white horizon of Havennesse disappear.

  ‘Was it what you thought it would be?’ Sahara asked her quietly.

  ‘I don’t know what I thought it would be.’

  Sahara raised her brows. ‘You thought it would be a big adventure. Bookended by a glorious victory.’

  Henri grit her teeth. Her sister knew her well, perhaps better than she knew herself.

  ‘So was it?’ Sahara pressed, resting against the ship’s rail.

  ‘You know it wasn’t.’

  ‘Something has to change.’

  ‘There is no changing the Valian Way.’

  Sahara unsheathed her dagger and twirled it in her hands as she gazed at the sheets of ice floating atop the dark water. ‘Maybe not.’

  Feeling queasy, Henri left Sahara scratching something into the wooden railing. Sea travel had never agreed with her and she needed a distraction from the churning in her gut. She found Athene repairing a net by the bow.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked her friend, watching her work.

  ‘Better than you, by the looks of things. I didn’t realise someone could actually turn green.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Henri muttered.

  ‘What’s going on with Sahara?’ Athene nodded to their heir, standing alone at the stern.

  ‘What d’you mean?’