Sacrifice (The Snow Queen #2)(6)

Gerta waved. “Princess! Come sit with us!”

Phile swatted her hand at Rakel. “Go—but this time pay attention when I signal you!”

Rakel reluctantly drew closer to the crowd of children, watching them for any signs of fear. Several of them threw quick bows in her direction, but most were focused on Phile as she climbed the ice platform Rakel had made for her. Several of the children were occupied with yanking on each other’s hair and pushing, but they quieted when Phile cleared her throat.

“Princess,” Kai—a grave, adorable little boy—said. He stood to bow to Rakel.

Rakel awkwardly stood until Gerta yanked on her arm, pulling her down to sit on the ground. Gerta climbed into her lap. “Phile is tellin’ us about the time you saved Grandmother! It’s so exciting!”

Kai scooted closer, resembling a bear cub with his thick black jacket, pants, gloves, and hood. “I didn’t know Phile saw you free Vefsna.”

“She didn’t,” Rakel said wryly. She looped her arms around Gerta and adjusted the little girl’s position so her hair wouldn’t tickle Rakel’s nose. Gerta giggled and hugged Rakel, making her smile.

Just a few months ago, I never would have known how warm and precious a hug can be. The twelve years of her exile on Ensom Peak lurked in the back of her mind—an unpleasant reminder of how new the respect and loyalty she had won really was.

But Gerta and Kai never feared me. They never hesitated to reach out for me. Warmed by the thought, Rakel impulsively placed an arm around Kai’s shoulders and pulled him in for a hug as well.

Kai smiled at her and snuggled closer.

“Thank you for waiting, children.” Phile leaned up against the ice carving Rakel had made of her. The sculpture was larger than life, but it captured the thief’s zest—though Rakel had ignored Phile’s request to make several handsome male sculptures to kneel at her feet.

“I will now resume my tale. As I was saying, it was snowing heavily.”

Rakel tapped her magic, and big, fat flakes of snow drifted down from the sky, falling on the children and the stage.

The children clapped and cooed in admiration.

Phile launched into her story, and Gerta leaned back and rested her head against Rakel’s shoulder.

Her actions warmed Rakel and stirred up a pinprick of fear. They all put such hope in her, but Tenebris was truly a monster. Could she really beat him? Determination flooded her heart. I have to stop him from laying hold of that mirror.

She smoothed Gerta’s hair.

I will keep these children safe. No matter how much it costs.





CHAPTER 2





RAIDERS IN BEGNA


The sleigh rocked side to side like a cradle as they whisked across snow-covered banks and hills. Rakel tapped her powers, breathing easier when they rushed through her.

“You doing alright, Princess?” Oskar peered at her over his shoulder when he was able to spare a moment.

“Yes. I’m just…preparing,” she said.

Oskar tugged the reins and corrected the reindeer pulling their sleigh. “Don’t push yourself to exhaustion,” he said. “I know you wish to save everyone, but you shouldn’t sacrifice yourself so impulsively.”

Rakel smiled fondly at her attendant’s back. “Thank you, Oskar.”

Phile drew closer to their two-person sleigh. “Are we getting closer?” She was the only one mounted on a horse—which she had swiped from the Chosen army weeks ago—everyone else was in sleighs pulled by reindeer or fat mountain ponies.

“I believe we should be able to see it once we get around this hill,” Oskar said.

General Halvor, traveling at the head of the war party, halted his reindeer. “We’re late,” he said, his face grim. “The raiders have already started attacking.”

Rakel leaned forward to watch when Begna finally fell in view. Normally, the village would have made an idyllic picture. Hills surrounded Begna, sheltering it from the worst of the winter winds; the border mountains dividing Verglas from Mullberg stood guard at its back. But the raiders ruined the pretty image. Clouds of smoke rose from Begna, and even from this distance Rakel could see the angry, crimson flames that devoured some of the buildings. There were no screams, but battle cries and roars of victory echoed off the hills. The scent of smoke burned her throat.

Rakel’s left cheek twisted in anger, and she pulled on more of her magic.

Tollak—a levelheaded man who held the curious magic of charming crafted goods—swung his gaze in Rakel’s direction. “Princess, may I inquire what you plan to do with such a hefty mass of magic?” His voice was polite and unflappable as if they were discussing what to have for afternoon tea.

Rakel, a little surprised he was able to accurately sense how much magic she gathered, stared at the burning village. “It’s a warning.”

“Brace yourselves!” Phile shouted—though she needn’t have bothered.

Rakel had pinpoint control and accuracy over her magic, so when a stalagmite of ice the size of a mature oak tree shot out of the ground, it impaled a wagon the Chosen mercenary soldiers had brought to carry away supplies. The winds picked up, clouds turned an ominous gray, and sleet-like snowflakes pelted from the sky, stinging any bare skin.

Rakel clenched her hands into fists, and several more stalagmites shot out of the ground, ruining the Chosen troops’ supply wagons.