“Any magic users, Snorri?” Captain Halvor asked.
The scout shook his head and spoke, but his words were quiet and mumbled; Rakel couldn’t make out any of them.
“You’re mumbling again, Snorri,” Oskar chided.
“No magic. Soldiers only,” Snorri said, speaking as if it belabored him.
“The way you cleared Fyran will work fine,” Captain Halvor said, tugging on thick, fleece-lined, leather gloves. “Assemble,” he said to his men.
Rakel took a few steps towards Vefsna until a soldier blurted out, “Wait! You’ll need these, Princess.” He held up a pair of snowshoes.
Rakel stared at the soldier for a moment, recognizing his face. He had tried to shoot her during Oskar’s appeal for Fyran. “Why?”
He flushed red. “The snow won’t hold up to your weight. Although there’s a crust, it’s not deep enough.”
Rakel looked down at the snow beneath her silver-buckled shoes. She had been wandering around in snow ever since her exile, and she had grown accustomed to letting her power seep through her feet, freezing everything she walked over so she could go where she pleased without plunging into snow. Judging by the way the jittery soldiers already treated her, the reason for her disregard of the snowshoes would go over poorly.
“What good fortune,” Oskar said, following Rakel’s trail. “It seems the snow crust thickened overnight. We won’t have to use the snowshoes after all.”
The soldiers looked to their captain, who hooked his snowshoes under his sleigh and joined Oskar and Rakel.
The soldiers reluctantly followed Captain Halvor’s example, and soon Rakel was leading the group, careful to move her silvery magic below the drifts so they would not see it at work, hardening the snow to hold up to their weight.
When Rakel had been a little girl, imprisoned near her family’s royal palace, she was taken to the gardens once every year for her birthday. There she got to see flowers and plants and a little pond. Any disturbance cast ripples across the pond. Rakel felt that was what her magic was doing—sending out ripples of power to manipulate the snow and cold.
It was good practice. As they walked along, Rakel’s powers stirred and spun, following her thoughts and actions. It moved with her like an old friend.
“How many of the enemy?” Captain Halvor asked.
The scout mumbled, but Rakel made out, “Double what attacked Fyran.”
The captain shifted so he could face Rakel. “You must move hard and fast. We’ll protect you, but you are the only hope of driving them from the village.”
She could feel the soldiers’ stares hammering into her back, weighing on her like an avalanche.Ho-ho-ho, you think I’ll fight with yourfinesoldiers at my back? No, thank you!“That is unnecessary. I will enter Vefsna alone.”
“No,” Captain Halvor said.
“Out of the question,” Oskar added.
Rakel narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Because you are royalty, and I cannot have you taking such an unnecessary risk,” Captain Halvor said.
“We could take half the soldiers—four—including Halvor and me—instead of all eight of us,” Oskar said.
Halvor scowled at the attendant. “All eight of us go in.”
Rakel shook her head. “I refuse. If I must have an escort, I will allow Oskar and you, Captain Halvor. That is all.”
Captain Halvor’s shoulders hunched up, and he appeared about to lay a scathing glare on her, but Oskar raised his hand and stepped in between them.
“Why?” he asked.
I wonder—maybe it’s because one of these guards has already tried to kill me? In a fight in which I’ll be using my magic, the trust of the fearful and ignorant is a commodity I cannot afford.
Rakel cleared her throat and regained a solid grip on her emotions. “I have my reasons.”
“Alright,” Oskar agreed, taking a step closer to Rakel.
