Sacrifice (The Snow Queen #2)(19)

Holding territory does not mean the mirror is out of reach. Kavon had men scouting this area without our knowledge. Unable to snuff out the hopeless dread that filled her, Rakel glanced at Phile. The Robber Maiden had a similar expression in her eyes.

She knows, Rakel thought. This isn’t just a minor setback. This is a full-on loss.



The moment Rakel’s feet touched the grounds of the Verglas palace, she started for Steinar’s room.

“Princess?” Oskar called.

Rakel hurried inside, pausing long enough to see that a bit of the snow in one of the damaged courtyards had melted. She walked—occasionally breaking into a run when her fear spurred her on.

When she reached the ornate door of Steinar’s room, she pounded on it. “Steinar? S-Steinar! Something has happened, and I don’t know what to do. There’s not a book in the world that can help me now. I need you…”

Rakel fell silent and listened.

Nothing.

“Why don’t you answer?” She slapped her hand against the door. “Stop hiding! This isn’t fair of you to make me face this alone! I didn’t want this—I didn’t want any of this! Now I don’t know what to do—and no one else sees it!”

She hiccupped in her near hysteria and dropped to her knees. “Why, why did I have to have magic?” she whispered, her eyes tearing up.

To her surprise, the door creaked and swung open. She saw, her vision blurred, Steinar’s tired but concerned face peer out at her.

“What happened?”

Rakel, in a rare moment of ungainliness, scrambled to her feet and threw herself at her brother. His arms closed around her, and for the first moment since she saw the wretched mirror, she felt warmth and reassurance. “The mirror, it won’t break.”

“What?”

Steinar brought Rakel into his room and sat with her on a white settee. He held her hand as the tale spilled from Rakel’s lips—including the mirror’s whispered promises, something she had not told the others about.

“You’re concerned because you know the problem is more than the present situation,” Steinar said. His features—simultaneously hawkish and elegant, like Rakel’s—were lined with worry.

Rakel shivered. “General Halvor and Oskar fail to understand it. This mirror is bigger than our war. Even if we stop the Chosen and eliminate Tenebris, someday someone will come for this mirror, and they will use it in the most twisted and wicked ways.”

“There must be a record somewhere that speaks of a way to shatter it. You said some shards had been pried from the mirror,” Steinar reminded her.

Rakel shut her eyes and leaned against the back of the settee. “Maybe, but I don’t have much hope. It was so…evil and dark. I’ve always had faith in the strength of my magic, but my powers faltered. The mirror soaked up everything I gave it, and it wasn’t close to cracking.”

“Perhaps your magic isn’t the answer. Maybe it takes a different sort of magic to break it.”

“Liv could not purify it; Frodi couldn’t melt it. If there is a magic that can break it, it will have to be something terrible. I don’t know if there is a person who can have that kind of power and possess the goodness of character to break it.” Rakel shivered.

“There will be,” Steinar said.

“How can you know that?” she asked.

Steinar offered her a warm smile. “Because I know magic users are an extraordinary people and have the greatest capacity to love and forgive. You, taught me that…sister.”

Rakel stared at him, afraid to breathe.

“You are frightened, and I can understand why. You have seen a great evil, and you feel hopeless. But remember the good in the world—your friends, the soldiers who fight for you, the people who believe in you. Their laughter and cheer can give you courage, and the strength to stand when you cannot do it on your own will.”

Rakel inhaled deeply and felt the caress of her magic. He is right. I’m allowing my fear to rule me—just as I used to allow my fear for my life rule me. It’s only worse, now, because I care for so many people.

The stiffness in her shoulders eased. “Thank you.” She smiled at her brother, who returned the gesture and quickly looked away.

“You don’t have to be sorry—about your magic.”

Rakel blinked. “What?”

“Your powers are a gift. You should never apologize for possessing them,” Steinar said.

“I love my magic,” she admitted. “But I know being related to me has put you in a difficult position.”

“I put myself in a difficult position when I continued your exile on Ensom after I had been crowned king. I should have called you home. I knew it was wrong to keep you there, but I was afraid,” Steinar said. “How could you forgive our family for how they had treated you—how could you forgive me for taking a throne that should have been yours?”

Rakel exhaled—as close to a groan as she would allow herself. “Everyone is overly concerned with the throne of Verglas,” she said.

Steinar stared into his lit fireplace.

“I don’t want the throne—it never even crossed my mind as I started reclaiming territory. A magic queen? I can almost feel the daggers in my back just thinking about it.” Rakel shivered in show, but Steinar didn’t laugh.