Wind. Ice. Panic.
I floated beside Fraleigh in her memory as she ran through the snowy peak of Nordingaard mountain. She looked about seventeen and her skin was pale instead of luminescent.
How strange to see her so…young.
Fraleigh’s amber eyes flitted amongst the rocks, looking for perfect handholds in the slope. She took a leap and began to climb. Her dark hair whipped behind her as the wind nearly pushed her down, but she kept going.
“Fraleigh, slow down!” another girl cried.
A younger girl—maybe fourteen years old—followed behind. She puffed out a frosty breath through her round cheeks as she struggled up the rocks. Her blonde hair loosened from their braids as she struggled to catch up.
No…that could not be…
“Hurry, Ganora!” Fraleigh cried.
All at once, I floated next to the two girls in an open snowy plain. An opening in the rocks loomed ahead with a dense fogrolling out between them. Fraleigh sprinted toward the passage without a moment of hesitation.
Ganora huffed as she ran behind. “How do you know he will help?”
“Trust me!” Fraleigh’s voice echoed through the fog.
The fog opened up to a large well in the snow, swirling with glowing water. Tall runes circled the well, bearing carved images of suffering, lost love, and even Death.
The grave of the Man of the Mountain, the same place from Astrid’s memory.
Fraleigh stood at the edge of the well and looked into the water. “The bad men killed Papa. They killed him so we could get away. I…I know what that means.”
Who was she talking to?
The water glowed so brightly Fraleigh had to shield her eyes. The air around us suddenly turned heavy.
She took a small knife out of a scabbard attached to her belt. “I was scared before, but I’m ready. It’s the only way to stop the bad men from killing us all.”
She winced and dragged the blade across her left palm. Tears blossomed in the corners of her eyes. “My tears fall, my blood flows…”
“Fraleigh!” Ganora cried behind her.
Fraleigh closed her eyes. “…now we become Death’s greatest foes.”
She stepped into the well and sank beneath the surface.
Ganora ran to the edge of the well as soon as Fraleigh’s dark hair disappeared into the swirling water.
“No, Fraleigh!” Cold tears ran down her shaking cheeks. “I can’t lose you too!”
I could not believe the helpless girl in the memory was the future Queen of the Giants. How had she become the legendary monster the North feared?
The water glowed a blinding white and Ganora scrambled away from the edge. Ancient wails of a grieving man spiraled around the runes. Ganora clapped her hands over her ears and screamed.
Every bit of air was filled with a voice that was impossible to block—a voice sharp as ice and gentle as a low flame.
A voice I knew all too well.
“Through love, I defeated Death,”the Man of the Mountain whispered,“through your passionate love, you hold my gift of sorrow on your lips. Walk the earth as my heart, destroy all that would hurt your beloved, and live through eternity as I wished my bride could have.”
Fraleigh rose from the water like she floated out of it and took a strong step into the snow. She looked unharmed, but…sharper. Stronger. Angrier.
She ran toward cowering Ganora and placed her hands on her shoulders. “I’m all right. I’m going to protect the village.”
