Sacrifice (The Snow Queen #2)(84)

“Maybe.” She was afraid to hope.

“Try it!” Phile urged.

Rakel licked her lips and rose from the bench. She crossed the courtyard and admired the way the silver moonlight played on the glacier. Thinking of what she wanted to do, she extended her hand and reached for her loose magic.

For several long, frightening moments, nothing happened. But just when she was about to give up, she felt a whisper of magic stir in her palm. It took a while to build, but when she had enough, she looked out at the glacier and built a horse-sized ice statue of a reindeer.

I still have magic—it hasn’t left me!

Phile whooped as the sculpture was shaped and molded, sending little chips of ice flying. Farrin took Rakel’s free hand and squeezed it.

Again, she reached for her magic. It was still slow to respond, but it moved as she directed, creating a doll-sized replica of the Verglas palace. Feeling for the boundaries of her magic, she stirred the wind and created a puffy cloud that started to drop fat snowflakes on their heads; she even dared to tug at the snow of a nearby mountain.

Each time, her magic moved as it always did.

“There’s a long gap until it responds,” Rakel said.

Farrin nodded. “I imagine it takes more time now that you are pulling at a magic source outside of your body.”

“Who cares if there is a gap? You still have your magic, Little Wolf!”

“I do,” Rakel smiled at the pair. “I’m very happy, but it will take some getting used to. I still feel the void, and…”

“And?” Farrin prodded.

Rakel hesitated. “And I won’t be able to use my magic fast enough to be any good in combat—or to block any kind of strike against me.”

Phile’s smile dimmed. “Oh.”

Rakel smiled. “I would rather take what I have than to be cut off entirely.”

Farrin tucked an arm around her waist and spoke into her hair. “Your magic won’t be needed for combat. No magic user with a hint of dark or twisted magic can pass through Verglas.” He kissed her temple and held her close.

Rakel tilted her head. “Do we know that for certain?”

“Oh, yeah,” Phile snorted. “For weeks, Grimick tried plotting a way into Verglas. Every night you could see where he would be—a giant ice wall would flare up and block him. Farrin’s right. You won’t have magical combat in Verglas again.”

“But what about those without magic?” Rakel asked.

“Ah, yes. Your powers only protect Verglas against the magical,” Phile said.

“You don’t need to react swiftly, Rakel.” Farrin used his fingers to tilt her face up so she would look at him. “I will stand with you. No one will pass through me.” His gray eyes glowed with joy, and Rakel found herself smiling in return.

“Good lord, there’s enough love out here a king could choke on it. I’m going to retire and leave you two to your own devices, but Rakel?”

Rakel felt her cheeks heat with a blush. She cleared her throat and pulled back from Farrin so she could face her friend. “Yes?”

“Phile is both a girl’s name and a boy’s name. I think it should be the name of your first child—Farrin agrees with me.” Phile fled to the palace, a spring in her step and a cackle in her throat.

Farrin frowned at her back, his black eyebrows slanting down sharply in his displeasure. He looked at Rakel and opened his mouth.

A giggle of laughter escaped her. “I know.”

His frown turned into a soft smile as he slipped his arms around her. For a few luxurious moments, Rakel leaned against him, basking in the warmth of his love as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then down to her cheek, then down to her jaw.

“We need to talk,” he whispered in her ear.

She flinched and pulled back from him. “Farrin…”

“You almost died, Rakel. This isn’t something we can smooth over as if it never happened. These have been the longest months of my life.” His gray eyes were still warm with love, but the furrowing of his brow and the set of his mouth created an expression of pain.

“I don’t regret it.”

“You should have told me what you were planning.”

“If I did, you would have stopped me.” Rakel lifted her chin. “You—and others—would have done everything in your power to keep me from carrying everything out.”

Farrin raised an eyebrow at her. “So what if we had?”

“You cannot deny that my actions created the best possible outcome.”

“I can, actually.”

The response made Rakel’s jaw drop. “In what way did it fail?” she demanded.

“It didn’t fail, but because you and Phile ruthlessly pushed your strategy forward, alone, we’ll never know what sort of ideas we could have used instead.”

Rakel uneasily knit her hands together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean if you had explained your idea, we could have discussed it with other magic users. Ragnar’s elf-friends might have been able to offer knowledge that would have made the transfer of your magic easier. There is a magic user who used to belong in Kavon’s unit—when you defeated Tenebris, she deserted the Chosen and now lives in Verglas. Her powers revolve around amplifying the magic of others. She might have been able to help if you had separated your two self-inflicted missions and given us time to react. There were other possibilities, Rakel. So why did you do it?”