‘Elva is clever. Well-read and well-respected …’ his mother went on,listing the princess’s qualities like they might make a dent in his resolve. Alarik tuned her out, watching the sky for Vaskan birds.
Before him, the mountains shifted, as though they were taking a breath.
He frowned, sure he had imagined the movement, but on closer inspection, there was a crack in the terrain that hadn’t been there the day before. He stared and stared, until the earth rose once more, unsettling a snow drift and sending it sliding down the mountainside. He strained, listening for the faraway rumble of an avalanche but there was only the north wind wreathing the glass dome.
He spun on his heel. ‘Is it my imagination or are the mountains breathing?’
Valeska frowned. ‘Have you been listening to a single word I’ve said?’
Unease stirred inside Alarik. He rubbed the spot between his brows, sure the stress of the last few months was finally getting to him. Foreign birds and foreign spies, feral beasts … and still, his wrangler had yet to arrive. ‘I think I’m losing my mind.’
‘Ah, but you are gaining a most illustrious bride,’ said Lief, raising another bubbling goblet. ‘I, for one, cannot wait to meet Princess Elva when she arrives with her delegation.’
Alarik stared at the steward. ‘What did you just say?’
‘I’ve already written to King Nilas. The date has been set,’ said Valeska, rising from her perch and coming towards her son with such light in her eyes it made a dent in Alarik’s chest. ‘Princess Elva is coming to Grinstad in two weeks. And when she arrives, we must welcome her with open arms.’ She took his hand and squeezed it,just as she used to when Alarik was a boy, afraid of the brutal battle tapestries in the war room, and then as a young teenager, afraid of the sea that had stolen his father. ‘Please, Alarik. Won’t you at least try with Elva, for me?’
Alarik stared down at his mother and let all the angry, hateful things he wanted to say dissolve on his tongue. It had been long months since he had seen her face alight with such hope.
He had no intention of getting married. But nor did he wish to dash the fragile happiness that now dwelled in his mother’s heart. If he could give her nothing else, he could give her this: an answer that might keep that fire inside her eyes flickering, if only for a little while longer.
So, he lied and said, ‘I’ll consider it.’
Her answering smile was as lovely as a sunrise. She laid her head against his shoulder and turned to face the sky. ‘At long last, I have something to look forward to.’
With a weary sigh, Alarik rested his head atop his mother’s and watched his mountains inhale, as though they were steeling themselves for what lay ahead. It occurred to him that perhaps he should steel himself, too.
CHAPTER 4
Greta
Greta didn’t think twice about the letter from Grinstad Palace. If the king needed a wrangler, then of course she would volunteer. It was her sisters who took convincing. Though the question was notifone of them would go, rather, it was a matter ofwhichof them would travel to the mainland and give up her life as she knew it, her freedom – frostbitten as it was – to serve the king.
It had to be Greta. Kindra had a betrothed on Carrig – and Mikkel provided a vital connection to the island’s fisherfolk. And more crucially, their generosity. Not to mention she was the only one of the three of them who could cook worth a damn. And as for Hela, she was far too valuable to Mama and Papa to leave. She was their guardian, possessing an uncanny ability to anticipate their needs before they voiced them. And more importantly, she was able to meet those needs with a strength that never faltered, no matter her hunger or exhaustion.
And even besides those convincing reasons, there was a far simpler one – of the three of them, Greta was the most gifted wrangler. Better, even, than Tor. Trained by Papa since the time she could crawl,Greta could scent a snow tiger’s mood across a glacier, calm a leopard with a low whistle, subdue an ice bear with an admonishing look. She could speak to a wolf’s heart as though it were her own, draw a pack of them to her like moths to a flame. Train them to dance, if she wanted to. Or to howl at the sun instead of the moon. For Greta, wrangling was as natural as breathing.
That was the crux of the argument, and in the end, it was the only thing that mattered.
By the time the moon rose that night, Hela and Kindra had given in. They crowded around the kitchen table as Hela scrawled their response.
We accept the king’s request. Please send a boat to Carrig at your earliest convenience.
With the letter secured to its foot, the nighthawk took off, turning east towards the Sunless Sea, and Grinstad Palace far beyond it, before disappearing into the gathering snow. Greta watched it go, her heart hitching at the sudden twist of her destiny.
When she turned to face her sisters, their faces were strained.
‘All will be well,’ she told them, and they pulled her in for a hug, the strands of their copper-streaked hair mingling as they held each other tight, anchored to this moment – to the beginning of goodbye.
For the next few days, Greta tried not to think about her departure. She took advantage of the break in the poor weather and hunted as far as the mountains, killing a goat big enough to feed her family for a week.And still she hiked, stalking the pine forests until she returned with a grouse for Farron and Lupo to share.
Greta hunted to keep the swill of her nerves at bay, but as the days wore on, she couldn’t stop her thoughts from turning to the mainland and the foreboding mountain palace Tor used to tell her about when he came home on leave. How the beasts that lived there had a whole forest to themselves, how they trained in an ancient stone arena from noon until night, and on days off roamed the palace with their guards. A treasured few even slept in the king’s bed, and yet the most fearsome beast of all, more fearsome even than Borvil the ice bear, was the king himself.
On the fifth morning that followed the arrival of the king’s letter, Hela was pacing in the living room when Greta came downstairs, having packed all her worldly possessions into the rucksack on her back. The rare spate of calm weather meant the ship Grinstad Palace had sent for Greta had arrived in good time, and was already anchored in the bay, waiting for her.
Hela’s eyes pooled when she beheld her sister in her travelling cloak and boots. ‘What will we do around here without your song, little nightingale?’
Greta blinked back her own tears. ‘You will have to sing for the beasts now.’
