“Keep looking at me!” the princess said, skating closer. And then, whispering,“Trust me.”
Sophie took another breath of the dream-laden forest air. It felt as if she had very little choice. She must either try to skate, or risk looking foolish. Last night the princess had trusted Sophie. Now she must do the same.
She stood up and felt her legs tense as she tried to balance on the narrow blades. But she could stand, just, if she took tiny steps. The trick was to keep moving, like when riding a bicycle. The princess was paying attention only to Sophie, and she sensed a furious concentration in the woman’s whole body.
I’ll just take two more steps, Sophie thought,then one more… She knew she must fall, surely, the next step, or the next? She had been walking across the snow, her ankles wobbling, for far too long. She seemed no closer to the princess.
Delphine and Marianne were giggling, but she daren’t look at them. She had to keep her eyes fixed on the princess’s face.
“Bigger steps, Sophie,” urged the princess. “See? You have nearly caught me …”
Then, in one delicious second, Sophie understood what she was meant to do. She pushed rather harder with her right leg and transferred her weight, and felt the skate glide on the ice. Then she transferred her weight and pushed with the left. She had a sensation of feeling free and weightless, of flying and spiraling, of not knowing where she ended and the snow and the forest and the frozen lake began.
“I’m a snowflake!” she laughed, putting back her head and opening her mouth to taste the snow on her tongue.
And then she fell. Flat on her back.
But it was so funny. It was all so funny, with Ivan’s face above, smiling broadly, his eyes crinkled with mirth, and the princess, her white fur turban above her arched eyebrows, laughing with genuine amusement. She saw the daytime stars above their heads, the branches of the birch trees that seemed to pin them there, and felt she could have burst with happiness.
A light mist rolled along the base of the trees. Except mist didn’t move like that. Mist wasn’t as dense as that. It didn’t assume the shape of … the shape of …
Appalled, Sophie knew she must shout out. She was no longer in the palace, looking down from the safety of the nursery.
The white wolf crept forward, quiet as snowfall, edging closer to the princess, who continued to smile down at Sophie, oblivious to the danger behind her.
“Sophie?” The princess offered her gloved hand.
The wolf stopped, sniffed the air. His eyes looked red against the white of the snow. Sophie could see now that there were patches of pale gray on his pelage.Oh, gray wolf …But this was a real white wolf, not the old gray wolf of the fairy tale. And there was no comfort to be had from her father’s voice. With a wave of panic, Sophie realized that this animal was wild and would not be hemmed in by a mere story. He was entirely his own master.
Sophie couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She sensed, as keenly as an electric shock, that the wolf saw, felt, experienced the woods in a completely different way from her. He could see deep into the night. He could feel the quality of the snow with his paw, understanding how long winter would be by the depth of the ice crust. He could smell Viflyanka’s sweat, hear the pulses of every one of them and know who would be the slowest runner, the weakest prey. But he didn’t just take in this information; it was as if hebecamewhatever was around him. He was a part of the world he inhabited. He seemed to be looking right at her. She felt drawn to him, but the fear would not leave her.
It was Viflyanka fretting and stamping that gave her a voice.
“Wolf!” she cried. “In the woods!”
Why weren’t they running? Why were Ivan and the princess just staring at her like that?
The princess’s face beneath her mink turban didn’t show any surprise, any fear. She shook her head.
“No, Sophie.”
“Yes! I saw it!” She struggled to sit up, looked again into the trees. There was nothing there.
“Inside!” roared Ivan.
“But Ivan!” The princess shook her arm from Ivan’s grip. “You know there’s nothing in the woods! We have them all.” But when she couldn’t free her arm from Ivan’s hand, she said, looking uneasy, “Don’t we?”
They half skated, half stumbled back to the temple, Ivan striding to thevozok. He pulled out a hunting rifle.
“Get inside!”
“But Viflyanka!” Sophie yelled.
The princess shoved her in the back and she fell into the temple.
Marianne and Delphine, looking shocked, clung to each other. The princess took off her skates and paced the room. Sophie jumped when two cracks from the rifle split the air.
An instant later Ivan threw open the door. His fur hat had slipped back off his forehead. His face was white. “Nothing,” he said. But he was breathing heavily, and for the first time Sophie could see worry in his eyes.
