Snow Queen fhk-4 Page 31

  But she did not have those talons extended. Instead, they were curled into small, hard fists, and as she closed with her quarry, she lashed out with those fists. She felt the shock as her feet impacted the back of the goose's head, felt the transmitted shock in her legs as she broke its neck and shattered the back half of her quarry's head. The goose flopped to the snow; she used the momentum of the impact to bounce up, and snapped her wings open to claw for height again. The Raptor's wonderful eyes scanned the panicking geese below. More than half of them still did not know what was wrong. One simply stood there, craning his neck, still trying to see where the attacker was —

  She did a wingover and dove again, aiming for that bird. There was not as much force to this blow, but it was still enough to break the second bird's neck. She bounced up again, and drove herself into the sky with the most powerful wing-beats she could manage. She needed more height. If she was about to tail-chase, she needed speed, and plenty of it.

  She folded her wings and dropped again, her eyes fixed on a bird that was only now beginning the labored effort to escape. Its goal, of course, was to get enough speed to flee. Hers was to hit it before it could.

  Time slowed to a crawl. She watched the wings of her target pump with agonizing slowness, watched the goose's neck stretch out, caught the frantic roll of its eye as it looked behind it and saw her coming, saw the sudden, desperate effort, the last pump of wings — And she hit it, as she had the others, sending it crashing into the ice of the lake. And ahead of her, a fourth bird was on the same path and if she tried, if she put impossible effort into it, she might be able to catch it.

  She opened her wings and drove toward it. It glanced back at her and redoubled its efforts. She did the same. She was closing on it. She was nearly there. She swung her feet forward, talons extended, reaching, reaching —

  The goose shuddered once, and was still as they hit the ground.

  She rested there a moment, panting, fighting the Falcon instinct that screamed at her to feed even though her stomach was still comfortably full. Then she shoved herself into the air again, to make certain of the other four birds, while the rest of the flock, honking their fear and distress, arrowed away toward the south.

  She had gone human and strung the geese together at the neck then changed to Bear form to come galumphing back with the geese draped over her neck and shoulders. One bird had been gutted — that had been her true breakfast, a feast for a bird of prey, and it wasn't as if the others would miss goose-innards. Her father's master falconer would have been astonished — and pleased. She had used everything she had ever learned about hunting with birds, and applied it to bring down four quarry. Four! It was unheard of for a single Falcon to do that in so short a period of time! Of course, this was a Falcon with a human's mind, but still it was unusual even for a full cast of Falcons to bring down that many quarry at once. And four geese meant that they could eat for four days without dipping into their precious stores or hoping that she and Urho would find something. Goose would be a nice change from hare and rabbit and dried meat, too.

  All this was in her mind as she closed on the camp, looking forward to the astonishment and pleasure that she would see in the faces of the others at her prizes. But instead, she saw them all huddled together, and heard the sound of sobbing. She increased her trot to a gallop, and transformed from Bear to human on the run, the geese flopping awkwardly against her as she ran. Kaari was weeping, with Annukka trying to comfort her, Lemminkal standing by awkwardly and Ilmari a bit apart, looking — guilty. She flung her grotesque necklace of heavy geese aside on the sledge as she reached them, seizing Ilmari's arm and hissing, “What did you do?”

  “She showed us the loving-cup,” he said, hunching his shoulders. “And I told her that since Veikko could be at no great distance, and since I had some of his things still with us, I could probably scry for him using very little power. And that would at least serve to show us if he was still well — ”

  He gestured awkwardly at a tiny forge fire lying between him and Kaari, that had his forge hammer lying beside it. And there in the flames —

  Was a scene that she herself had seen not all that long ago. The crude throne room. The Snow Witch on her throne. The shambling, clumsy snow-servants.

  And Veikko, in a pose of great intimacy, sitting at the Snow Witch's feet and leaning against her leg.

  No wonder Kaari was crying.

  Aleksia was furious, both at Ilmari and herself. She should have known that something like this would happen. Someone like Ilmari could not resist someone like Kaari. Never mind that the girl was the betrothed of his brother's apprentice. The relationship of Master and apprentice had kept Lemminkal from even considering pursuing Kaari for himself — but not Ilmari.

  Stupid, stupid man!

  She seized Ilmari's arm and dragged him away. “Do you think I am so stupid that I do not know what you are about, old man?” she spat. “Old fool is more like! You knew very well the sort of state you were likely to find Veikko in! Yes, and you were looking forward to showing Kaari, too, so you could comfort her and win her for yourself! Idiot! You know what her Wyrd is like. And even if it were not, do you think for one moment she would look favorably on the advances of a man old enough to be her father? Even if she should give up on Veikko, there are dozens of handsome young men who would be glad to comfort her in her bereavement in her village, and dozens more who have yet to meet her!”

  For one moment, Ilmari glared at her, his eyes flashing with rage. He opened his mouth, doubtlessly to give her a scathing piece of his own mind —

  And then he stopped, flushed, and hung his head. “You are right,” he sighed. “Curse it, you are right. I have been down this road before, and there is no good ending to it.” It was Aleksia's turn to open her mouth to deliver another few choice words — then she stopped. She had said enough. More scolding and nothing would be accomplished, because she would drive this man into the opposite direction, determined to prove her wrong. She must appeal to his better nature.

  “Then come and help me show her the truth,” she said instead, letting go of his arm. Ilmari nodded, and they both turned toward Kaari.

  “Kaari!” she said, sharply enough to make the girl's head come up. Her eyes brimmed with crystal tears that rolled down her cheeks like lovely raindrops. Curse the girl and her runes, Aleksia thought, half in annoyance and half in exasperation. Can she not even cry like a normal woman? Where are the red eyes, the blotched cheeks, the running nose? But she could not remain annoyed with Kaari for long, and after all, it was hardly her fault that she was so perfect. She had been outstandingly brave and helpful through all of this, coming into as she did, with no experience and only her own courage and her love for Veikko to sustain her.

  “Kaari,” she said, in a more kindly tone. “Listen to me. I knew all about this. I saw it all in my mirrors long before I came here. And I did not tell you, because you already knew all that mattered, that Veikko was in peril, and that we must all work to save him.” She gestured at the image. “This is all false. This is what the Snow Witch does. Veikko is under a spell, an enchantment, and somewhere under all of that, Veikko is screaming in horror at what he is being made to do.” She turned toward Ilmari. “Am I not right?” she asked sharply.

  The Wonder-smith shrugged. “The tales are all about how she takes handsome young men and makes them betray everything to follow her. I have heard of such. I suppose she must have somehow seen Veikko, and decided to take him for herself. I know he would not have gone to her willingly,” he said, and added reluctantly, “I cannot imagine Veikko to ever betray the trust of Kaari.”

  “You see?” Aleksia went on one knee beside the girl, whose eyes were finally starting to reflect hope. “I have seen her do this, time and time and time again. I have looked into the past in my mirror. She abducts handsome young men, she puts their hearts, souls and minds under enchantment, and she uses them as she pleases. Veikko is not the first, though with our company, we can en
sure he is the last and make her answer for her crimes.” She put conviction she in nowise felt into her words, and hoped that Kaari would respond.

  She did; it was Kaari's nature always to respond to the promise of hope. That was her great weakness — and strength. “We can free him? And he will be the same again?” Her face was alight again.

  “That is what I came here to do,” she replied. “But you — there is something that you must do for him. And only you.”

  “There is?” For the first time, she had been told that she personally could do something to help her beloved, and it transformed her. Kaari's expression would have melted a harder heart than Aleksia's. Ilmari gulped with guilt, and looked away. Now Aleksia was glad she had not scolded him further. His own sense of guilt would punish him more than any words of hers could.

  “Of course there is.” She put an awkward hand on the girl's shoulder. “Listen to me. You must keep love in your heart for him. You must concentrate on it, and love him with all your heart. As long as you remain brave and keep that love for him, the Snow Witch can never win, and you strengthen him.” She looked up at Ilmari. “Am I correct?”

  She could see the struggle in his eyes, but honesty and his better nature won out.

  “Yes,” he said. “Love has an energy, and a magic all of its own. Veikko is a Mage, and that energy will surely reach him and make him stronger. There are tales and tales and tales of such a thing, and I believe them.”

  In that moment, Aleksia looked up and caught his gaze, and saw something in the man that she had not seen before. He had realized something profound about himself, and in a single moment his soul had — well, grown. There was no other way to put it. She smiled at him, encouragingly. He looked surprised, then smiled back and there was a shyness in that smile that was both odd in one with his years, and strangely endearing.

  She stood up. “I will go back into the sky,” she said. “For one thing, there are only four deer, and although I could ride Urho while he pulls the sledge, I am of more use where I can see any possible ambushes. I just did some hunting — ” She noticed more frozen fish, neatly wrapped in a bit of leather, tied onto the top of the sledge, and smiled. “And with that and what Urho has got for us, we are well-provisioned. Now, let me do some real scouting, and I will come back to you with word.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she transformed into the Gyrfalcon again — But before she could labor into the air, Ilmari unexpectedly bent and offered his arm.

  “Lady?” he said, and smiled. “I am no stranger to falconry, though I have not got a bird at present.”

  After a moment of surprise, she jumped onto his arm, taking care not to put her talons through his coat and into his arm. He launched her expertly into the sky with a hard shove of his arm upwards, and she labored skyward.

  This time she was looking at the horizon, rather than below her — and as a consequence, got a bit of a surprise. On that horizon was a shape that she recognized from hours and hours of scrying.

  The original tower of the Snow Witch was in a valley with a mountain behind it. Now, this was not the most distinctive mountain that Aleksia had ever seen, but after looking at it for so long, she knew she was seeing its shape again. And that meant that they were not as far from their goal as they had thought. Two or three days at most would bring them to the village outside the gates.

  Movement below caught her eye, and she glanced down. It was the rest of the group, finally on the move again. All four deer were being ridden now, as Urho was making light work of the sledge.

  I shall have to make sure I stay in some form other than human when we are on the move, Aleksia thought to herself. Bird by preference, really: she could continue to hunt and feed herself easily enough, and coming to earth by night should keep the Falcon from taking over. She was about to go on ahead when more movement on the trail caught her attention, and she kited back a little.

  And that was when she nearly sideslipped out of the sky, she was so startled. Because following them, and staying just out of sight, was the Icehart. Moving in broad daylight, surrounded by an obscuring mist of ice-fog, passing like a ghost on the face of the snow.

  Two days later Aleksia and Ilmari stood quietly just beyond the edge of the firelight, staring at the Icehart. It was doing nothing, except staring back at them. She could sense nothing from it by ordinary means and she hesitated to do anything to it with magic. For now, it was just following them, and given the results of their last confrontation, she did not want to goad it into battle.

  “Do you still have the crystal?” Ilmari asked in an undertone. “It might want that…”

  “But you don't think so,” she stated, staring at the ghostly stag. Moonlight glittered on the points of its antlers, and the misty eyes seemed to be looking right through them.

  “You don't, either.” Nervously, he rubbed his neck.

  “No, I don't,” she admitted. “But I also have no idea what it does want.” She stared at the strange beast. This was the third night it had come to stand at the edge of their camp and…do nothing. She felt for the crystal in her pocket. It was still there. She weighed all the considerations, and finally decided that, since two nights had gone by without it attacking, it was worth taking a risk.

  “I am going to approach it,” she told Ilmari. She expected him to object, but instead, he nodded.

  “I will go with you,” he said instead. It didn't sound like a request, but at this point her nerves were feeling so rattled she decided that not going alone was a very good idea. “Don't worry, I won't attack unless we are attacked first. But I would rather you did not go alone, Aleksia. It took all four of us the last time to defeat it. I would rather you had someone to guard your back.”

  She nodded. And felt oddly touched. Because he had not blustered that she was merely a woman and could not face this thing — he had given her the courtesy of assuming she was his equal.

  The two of them approached the strange deer, their feet making crunching sounds on the snow as they broke through the ice-crust atop it. Tonight there was just enough moonlight to be able to see the Icehart clearly.

  It seemed to Aleksia that there was something odd going on with the Icehart's face.

  The eyes…. around the eyes…there was movement.

  Then as the Icehart looked away from her for a moment and at Ilmari instead, she realized what it was. She saw shining bits of ice dropping from its cheeks. She had seen that before — when Kaari had wept for the forest-spirits.

  “It's weeping,” she said, so shocked that she was not sure she was really seeing what she thought she was. “Why would this thing be weeping?”

  There was a silence from Ilmari, then the Wonder-smith sighed. “You may think me mad,” he said, slowly, “but I believe that it is weeping because it has a broken heart.”

  She shook her head. None of this was making any sense. First the thing attacked them. Now it followed them, crying. It was clearly intelligent, yet it was not telling them what, if anything, it wanted.

  She knew it was responsible, in part at least, for the deaths of dozens of people, and yet her heart went out to it.

  “How can a spirit have a broken heart?” she asked, falteringly.

  Ilmari sighed. “I do not know,” he replied, as the Icehart slowly stalked away, leaving them with nothing but questions. “Perhaps it, too, is a victim of the Snow Witch. Perhaps it has lost all it ever cared about to her. All that I know is that not even a Wonder-smith can mend a heart when it is broken.”

  16

  The village was named Kurjala, and Aleksia suspected this was an attempt at sarcasm, since the word meant “misery.” Certainly it lived up to — or down to — the name. The area seemed to be under a perpetual overcast. The houses were dark, and poorly repaired, and the people in them shabby and unsocial. Even the ice and snow in the streets was filthy. When they first approached the place, she had not at all been sure there was anyone living there. Only when they actually entered it did they see
the occasional surly or furtive figure crossing a street ahead of or behind them, although doors were always firmly closed by the time they reached the spot where the figure had been seen.

  Only after they came to what passed for a village market did they find anyone willing to speak to them. Once they showed their coin, though, people did come out. Money, it seemed, overcame just about every other consideration.

  The barrier across the Palace gate that Aleksia had seen in her mirror visions had become a barrier around the entire Palace. There was literally no way to get past it.

  The group was now camped outside the wall around the Palace, a good distance from the village at the front gate. They had originally thought to stay within the village, rather than camping, but a quick look through the place had convinced all five of the humans that this was absolutely the last thing they wanted to do. Urho, who must have had some way of telling what lay ahead of them here, had already been convinced that they should not chance the village.