Two simultaneous sighs through the teeth.
“I’m sorry for swearing, Rose.”
“You can treat my hand once we’re at the world tree, Ivy.”
“That’s settled then,” said the little diplomat. “Not another word about the sword.”
The steps further down had survived. Fortunately so, for while nature had roughened the stone skin above, it was too smooth to climb here. Long ago, the walkway down the side of the mountain had been decorated with runes, but most were lost to the elements. There was only one phrase remaining, repeated often enough that I could piece it together.
One phrase, and hundreds—thousands?—of names.
“ ‘Underneath the Swan King’s wing, curled in the She-Wolf’s warmth,’ ” I read, stopping to touch the carvings.
Lily turned to me. “What does it mean?”
“It’s a piece of a prayer,” Rose said, tracing the names with her eyes. “These must be pilgrims who’ve …”
She trailed off, mouth hanging open. I cocked a brow and went to see what had shocked her.
“What is it?” Lily said, when both of us were stunned into silence. Written on the stone was one of the few words Rose could read—a signature after a short phrase.
“Malachai,” she mumbled, and Lily shared our astonishment. Rose pointed at the runes beside Father’s name, scraped in his familiar curves. “What does this mean?”
My chest ached. “ ‘I have pulled my sun down from the sky.’ ”
“Daddy always called Mama his sun when he told me stories,” Lily said.
“It’s a common name,” I tried, but Rose’s leer and Lily’s frown told me neither believed it any more than I did.
Rose punched the wall, bloodying her knuckles. “I knew it! Mother would’ve never let something so stupid as dropping her sword get herself killed!”
“Not this again,” I huffed. “You can’t take it for more than an epitaph. Father would never have—”
“They had no qualms abandoning you and me! Who can say what else they’re capable of?”
“Why are you yelling?” Lily asked, gaze darting between us with fright. “What are you talking about? What did Daddy do?”
“He—”
“Rose has deluded herself into thinking they got into a fight,” I intervened, giving her a sharp glance. “And she’s ridiculous for suggesting it.”
“Am I?” Her face turned dark. “Father said they made it to the world tree. This proves they got at least this far.”
“If it was him at all—”
“Shut up. If he didn’t lie, why did they fail? What could’ve stopped a shaman as powerful as Father in the very end if not betrayal? Why would someone as headstrong as Mother accept defeat unless her intention was to turn on him him from the beginning?”
“What could she possibly have gained from a lasting winter?” I shouted. Rose only spread her hands with a nasty smirk.
“Rose,” Lily said, startling us both with how quiet she was. “Are you saying Daddy killed Mama?” She took a step closer to me—an unwitting gesture of solidarity—and shook her head with a horrified expression. “Why would you say that? How would he feel if he knew this is what you thought?”
“I’m not blaming him. You didn’t know Mother, not really. You were kissed and coddled. I was tempered, no different to her than a weapon—Ivy, don’t you dare roll your eyes at me!”
“She trained you, you idiot. You were ‘kissed and coddled’ just as much once you were out of the woods. Out there, she was a master, not your Mother.”
“How would you—”
“Because Father was the same! Do you remember the time you burned yourself on the stove? He worried himself sick when even you knew he was overreacting.”
“That’s how he was,” she grumbled. “Always caring.”
I plucked a strand of hair, muttered the spell. A flame sprouted between my fingers. “When I did this the first time, my sleeve caught fire. Do you know what he did?”
Rose scoffed. “Probably half died from the panic.”
“Slapped me and told me never to disrespect fire again.”
A satisfying glimpse of surprise flitted on her face. “Well, once is—”
“Once? He beat me every time I put myself in danger, because they were tempering us.” I swept a hand toward the valley. “Out here, we are not loved. If we are not as hard as the earth, we won’t survive. They prepared us for the journey, should they have failed—and prepared us well. There is more of Mother in you than you seem to realize: Conviction, courage, fidelity. Would you have turned on Father had you been here instead of her?”
Rose gave me a sullen glare. The clash was effectively over—she knew she had lost, she knew I knew, but pride kept her from letting go.
“A strange approach, don’t you think,” she said. “If they meant to show we’re alone in the wilderness, why didn’t they think we’d grow to distrust each other?”
“Because trust was a lesson we had to learn on our own.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t count the times I wanted to run away when we were alone, because I was so frustrated and knew you’d bloody my nose quicker than I could yours.”
“I seem to recall you doing exactly that, running away.”
“Only once. Remember? We’d had a huge fight, even by our standards, and you said you hated me.” I shrugged; Lily watched us with consternation. “So I ran, sooner to live with bears than you. And what did you do?”
Rose only sighed, looking away.
“What?” Lily asked when the silence stretched.
“She got caught in a snowstorm,” Rose muttered. “Wouldn’t have gotten back if I hadn’t gone for her.”
“Gotten back? I would’ve died, Rose.” I couldn’t help but to smile at how forced her dourness had become. “You nursed me back to health, all the while cursing me for being careless. That’s how I learned I could always trust you, no matter how much we fought.” I patted her shoulder before moving on. “You can be sure Mother would’ve let nothing happen to Father, nor he to her. Take the engraving as grieving, nothing more.”
I made it only a few steps away before she said, “What if there was a reason he killed her?”
“God as my witness, I will punch you if you ruin the moment.”
“Listen,” she said. I spun with a fist raised, but found her looking perplexed. “Pilgrims always travel in threes. Fox, wolf, and dove. Who was their third?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I suppose they met someone on the way.”
Rose looked away, biting her lip, and said, “What if their dove was Lily?”
My face went blank; so did Lily’s. Tonelessly, I said, “What?”
“She was born during the journey and father never spoke of another companion.”
“Rose,” I said gravely. Lily was quiet, lips parting as she gazed at Rose.
“You said the king keeps what he takes,” Rose said, “but that’s not true—you can steal from him, with blood magic. The wolf holds the sword, fox knows the words. What if the dove is the sacrifice needed for rebirth? That’s why they failed—Father refused to kill Lily, they got into a fight and—”
“For god’s sake, Rose,” I yelled, grabbing Lily into my arms. Her distress had reached mortification. “For once in your life, think before you open your damned mouth!”
Rose choked, staring at us dumbfounded.
“Is it true, Ivy?” Lily whimpered, clutching me. “Is that all I’m good for? Is she carrying the sword for me?”
“Your sister’s an oaf, Lily, but she’d never hurt you. Blood magic isn’t real—just a scary tale of virgins and countesses. You can be sure Mama didn’t want to hurt you either.”
I stepped back to let Rose hug her, fuming as she tried to console Lily. She avoided my glower the rest of the way down th
e icy steps. When we got to safe ground, where slipping to our deaths was no longer a risk, I punched her arm with all my strength.
The world tree grew ahead, as dead as any monolith. I lit one of the torches in my satchel and handed it to Rose. She winced on lifting her arm, but understood to stay silent about it as we trod into the great ash’s shadow.
A litany of howls met our approach. “Nothing to fear,” I said, when Lily gasped at the sound. “They’re only greeting the moon.”
She nodded, but continued chewing her tresses. I took off my glove and wiped my palm with a salve, then began mixing an explosive concoction on it. The clumps I squeezed into balls that hardened and turned gray when I spoke to them and hid them in the pouch of my sleeve.
Lily watched my bomb-making with unease. “Are you sure they’re not howling for us?”
“Of course.” The wind laughed at my lie, whispering it had given them our scent. “But it’s best to be prepared. You never know—”
A snarl chilled my tongue into halting. I spun to find a white behemoth on the rocks overlooking the path.
I stepped in front of Lily, dropping a bomb onto my hand when Rose grunted. I glanced her way to find our path blocked by the rest of the pack.
“What we do?” Lily squeaked. “Run back to the cliffs?”
“They’d catch us,” Rose said.
My eyes fixed on the alpha; a gesture of challenge, but we weren’t in a position to back down. The old tongue twisted my own, turned my voice from whispers into yips and snarls.
“White one, we seek the world tree,” I said. “We are weak and fatigued, and if you try to stop us, you will succeed … but at what cost? Fire and steel care not for their wielders’ resolve.”
Rose and Lily wheeled to face me. What was a polite greeting in my ears was ululation in theirs. The recipient, however, understood.
“Shaman,” growled the wolf. “I smell the might in your veins. I have slain your kin, sharpened my teeth on their horned crowns.”
It jumped down and landed with a tremor. Lily grabbed onto the hem of my coat with a cry.
The wolf padded to me and lowered its head, eyes the size of my fists. I stood still, brushing Lily’s hair as casually as I could, though the gesture was difficult with a near-petrified arm. With the other, I held out a bomb.
“You know my nature. Do you know what this is?”
The wolf’s breath reeked of old meat when it spoke. “Dormant fire. I have seen it.”
“Then you know what happens if I drop it. Will you listen to my bargain?”
“I already am.”
I cursed inwardly at how my arm trembled. “Let us go to the tree. When we revive it, verdancy will claim this land. There will be the fawns. Hares. Birds too fat to fly far. A worthy trade for the lives of three girls as starved as you are.”
Rose flinched when the wolves around us snarled as one. To me, the sound was soothing. They agreed.
“Let them try, Lord Garm,” whined one. “There is no harm in it. If they fail, you may yet revoke your blessing.”
“It is not a matter of feeding the body, but the soul,” Garm snapped. “A storm brews. Lapping her blood from a cold corpse removes its power.”
I swallowed hard. It was clear Garm knew things a beast shouldn’t have. It made me wonder whether he had stumbled upon this knowledge, or if there was anything natural about him.
“Lord Garm,” yipped another, fur a unique shade of black in the gray pack, save for a stripe as white as Garm on its chest. Its voice held a cadence missing from the other two’s—a female, perhaps. “She spoke of bargains, not blessings.” She approached us, tilting her head at me. “Pup, what is your quest worth? Would you give your life to succeed?”
“I would,” I said.
She turned to Garm. “Then the wee one’s must be a fair trade. Look, my lord: She has cozened death. The river washed her clean, but she was pulled back. There is life in her, different from any other—life that should not be!”
I knelt down to pull Lily closer. A move too sudden, startling both her and Garm. I didn’t know what the wolf meant, but Garm now regarded Lily with fresh interest.
“Know your place, Leah,” Garm growled. She backed away and he returned to sniff Lily.
“She is not a part of this,” I hissed, tongue slipping. “You will not have her.”
“What are you saying? Who isn’t a part?” Lily asked, gaze darting between Garm and me. He continued sniffing, circled us, and I shot Rose a glance. She scowled at the wolf, teeth gritted, and looked ready to jump him.
“You are right, Leah.” Garm stepped in front of us and stared Lily down. “Shaman, give me the dove. You may pass to the tree and return unharmed.”
“She is not a part of this—” I yelled. Garm bit at my head and I fell back, dodging it, and pulled Lily down with me. Rose cried out and lunged at him, but Leah pounced to pin her down. She pressed her muzzle against Rose’s nose, growling.
“You will show proper respect,” Garm rumbled, an oddly regal sound for a canine. “Give her, or I will eat all of you.”
“Get off her,” I snapped at Leah. She glared at me, but obliged. “Lord Garm,” I said, masking my anger as best I could, “may I give my goodbyes?”
“You will part with her?”
“Our journey matters more.”
Garm held me in an appraising stare. “You are wise beyond your years, shaman. If you succeed, we will not chew her bones. You may gift them to the earth.”
I nodded, turned to Lily and pressed a hand to her face. It was cold, but dry, as if her frightened expression had iced over. “Rose, say nothing,” I purred, wearing a wistful smile as I knelt to stroke Lily’s cheek. She latched onto my fingers. “On the bang, clear us a path. Lily, I’ve got you. Don’t be scared.”
I caught Leah’s ear twitching, but neither she nor Garm acted on my words. I hugged Lily, stood and took a deep breath before facing Garm.
I slammed a bomb into his jaw. The salve ate the explosion—on my part. My arm felt as if I’d struck stone. Garm’s mandible shattered.
The pack yelped, then one, two yowled when Rose slashed. Even as I threw Lily against my shoulder and dashed, I dropped a bomb onto my hand and lobbed it at Leah. My aim was off and it landed too far, but the explosion threw her against the cliff. Two more bombs stunned or wounded the rest who’d backed away from Rose’s whirlwind. I ran after her over the bodies and limbs she had cut through.
I dared a glance behind as we made it out of the ravine. The surviving pack took heart and began to chase us, the slack-jawed Garm in front. His gait was wobbly; his speed tremendous.
I ground to a halt and dropped Lily. She stumbled and fell, gaping at me with fright. I was already turning and slashing my knife through hair grabbed in a tuft.
“Kämmeneltä paistoi polte, halkoi loiste hämärää,” I sang, feeding bone dust to the burgeoning flare and spreading it for the wind to carry. “Joudu, juokse, kaunis kajo, luokse taivaantakojan. Nouse, liekki, revonhäntä, surmaa yöstä syntyneet!”
The strands turned into a ribbon of fire, far greater than ever before, coruscating from red to green to blue. The wolves stopped to watch my aurora lift to the sky. It lingered there when they resumed chase and, when Garm was below it, dove to crash as a wall of flames.
“How did you do that?” Rose said, shielding her eyes from sudden light. It cut off the pack, but with the roar and blaze I couldn’t see nor hear whether it had slain Garm.
“Father taught me well,” I said. “Keep moving. It’ll buy us time until they get around—”
Garm bounded through the wall. His fur smoldered, but the fire hadn’t so much as slowed him. The others howled with fright beyond the spreading wall.
Rose clasped both hands on the sword’s hilt and faced the charging beast. “What are you doing?” I called. “Keep
running! The spell will wane soon!”
“He’s faster than us,” Rose said. “You go.”
“Don’t be stupid!”
“I’ll hamstring him and follow. I’ll be fine.”
“No!” Lily said, latching onto her coat. “Not without you! If you have to fight, Ivy can help!”
“I can’t watch after you and myself,” Rose said. “I have better chances without my attention divided.”
“You goddamn martyr,” I hissed. Lily shrieked when I snatched her, punched my back and cried objections when I threw her over my shoulder. Garm was almost upon us. “You’d best be sure about this.”
Rose nodded and I ran. The fire fizzled out, momentarily blinding me with the tree blocking the moon. I sharpened my sight to clear the dark, but didn’t turn to look when Garm yowled.
“I think she got him,” Lily said, voice taut. “I can’t see them. I hope she’s okay.”
The tree rose on a hill ahead. The pack caught up at its base and made to flank us. Only there did I realize I hadn’t planned what to do next: I couldn’t perform the ritual alone, but would never put Lily through it. They were closing in fast and I was too worn to flee further. I circled the tree, but the bark was smooth—save for a hole overhead, too small for me, but in which Lily could fit.
“Here.” I gave her my shawl for warmth and hoisted her up. “Climb in. You’ll be safe there.”
Lily pulled herself into the hole. “What about you?”
“I’ll try to reason with them. If it fails, I’ll ask the wind and hope it answers. You’ll be safe there whatever happens. They can’t jump that high.”
She frowned, retreating into the den. “Okay.”
“Keep yourself warm. I’ll get you as soon as I can.”
The pack climbed the hill, six in total. Leah was not with them, nor was Garm; their approach was slow and I read insecurity in their movements.
“Please,” I said. “Garm is misguided. Let us complete what we came to do.”
“Lord Garm demands your capture,” barked one.