Chapter 36 Greta
Greta
Greta left the sparring room so fast she felt like a human tornado.
She stormed through the palace, her emotions so tangled she couldn’t tell relief from panic.
She was satisfied at least that her brother was not going to maim the king of Gevra.
That Alarik was not going to have Tor thrown in the dungeons.
But as for how their conversation would go …
she had never seen that kind of anger on her brother’s face before.
It was a miracle Alarik hadn’t been knocked unconscious by his punch, a miracle that Tor had survived the aftermath.
And yet, despite it all, Greta couldn’t bring herself to regret her kiss with Alarik.
It glowed like an ember in her chest, that moment of pure and utter bliss, his lips like a spell that had made time cease to exist.
At least it had been Tor and not Hela who caught them like that. Tor might have punched Alarik, but Hela would have run him through with a sword. Twice.
In the atrium, Greta nearly toppled over Elske, her brother’s beloved white wolf. She came to her knees, burying her face in the tufty white fur and letting the slow thrum of Elske’s heartbeat settle her own.
‘Hello, darling,’ she said, scratching the sweet spot behind her ear. ‘I’ve missed you.’
Elske blinked her big blue eyes, her tail wagging in greeting.
‘Do you want to come and meet my friends?’ Greta was suddenly desperate to be out in the howling wilderness. She made for the courtyard, Elske padding companionably along beside her.
She was deep in the forest with Elske, Tollo and Gale, watching the wolves frolicking about in the fresh snow, when her brother found her. Tor whistled through his teeth, and all four of them turned to look at him striding through the trees with his hands slung into his pockets.
‘Please don’t summon me like a wolf,’ said Greta, folding her arms.
‘You’re the one who turned around.’
She stuck her tongue out at him – something she hadn’t done since she was a child. ‘Despite your beastliness earlier, I’m pleased to see you’re still alive.’
‘Believe me, if I could go back, I would have knocked on that door. Loudly. A hundred times.’ He dipped his chin in apology. ‘I’m sorry for lashing out like that. I was just being protective.’
‘Overprotective.’
‘You’re my little sister, Greta. And Alarik is …’ He rolled his hand, searching for the right word. ‘A challenge. At the best of times.’
‘I’m not a child any more.’ She prodded his chest. ‘I’m a grown woman.’
‘I know that.’ He opened his arms, his face softening. ‘It’s good to see you, nightingale.’
Greta melted at her nickname and threw her arms around her brother, her eyes prickling at his nearness. It had been so long since she had seen him. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Tor.’
‘I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry I’ve been away. I should have come home sooner. I should have known things were bad—’
‘We didn’t want you to know,’ said Greta, pulling back from him. ‘We wanted to get on without you, to show you that we could.’
‘Well. Point proven.’ He tugged at the end of her braid.
‘I’ve never seen Papa so proud. Mama’s stuck your letters to the wall above the fireplace.
Kindra finally has a wedding dress, and even Hela has been laughing more than usual.
’ He cocked a brow. ‘In fact, I hear you’re the best wrangler Grinstad’s ever had. ’
Greta laughed, her chest swelling at the pride in her older brother’s voice. She had looked up to him her whole life. Now, for the first time, she felt like his equal. ‘Come on,’ she said, tugging his arm. ‘Let me show you the beasts. I bet Baldur and Nel have been missing you.’
‘Those two were always my favourites,’ he said, eagerly falling into step beside her.
With the wolves trotting after them, Tor let her give him the grand tour.
She smiled to herself as he followed her deeper into the forest, craning his neck like he had never been here before – as though he hadn’t built most of these pens as a teenager with his bare hands.
Tor made sure to greet every beast – reacquainting himself with the ones he had trained and fought alongside in battle, and letting Greta introduce him to those that had been born after he left.
They talked at length about the animals, about their care and training routines, and even the battle formations Greta had devised with Captain Vine.
‘I could never have imagined you working at Grinstad before today,’ said Tor, as they wandered back to the forest path. ‘But seeing you with the king’s beasts, listening to the way you talk to them and watching how they respond to you … well, it makes sense. Your spirit is so alive here, Greta.’
‘They trust me. Not just the animals but the soldiers too.’ She hesitated. ‘And the king.’
Tor inhaled through his teeth.
‘Back on Carrig, I’ve always been known as the youngest Iversen,’ she went on. ‘The injured one. The weak one. Someone to protect and fuss over. It’s been that way since I was a little girl. Sometimes I think Papa still sees me that way.’
Tor frowned but gave no argument. She supposed a part of him saw her that way too.
‘But the truth is, I grew up a long time ago, Tor. At Grinstad, I don’t feel like that frightened little girl screaming for help in the forest. I feel like a wrangler. Like a warrior.’
‘I can see that as plainly as the fallen snow,’ he said, turning to sweep some off her shoulders. His smile changed, then, the hum of his anxiety filling the space between them.
‘It’s your spirit that makes you who you are,’ he said, with quiet conviction. ‘Not Grinstad. And certainly not the king.’
Her face fell. ‘I know that.’
‘Then you must also know that there is no real future for you here. Only battles and bloodshed.’ He paused, his voice gentling. ‘And heartbreak.’
She prickled at his words. ‘I don’t need a lecture.’
He gave her one anyway. ‘The king is marrying Princess Elva in two days’ time. Their alliance is crucial to the future of this kingdom. The marriage has been agreed, and it will stand. It’s out of his hands, Greta.’
She frowned at the sudden tightness in her chest. This was hardly new information – in fact, it was the constant, taunting truth. So why then, did she feel like she had been run through with a sword?
Because you kissed Alarik.
Because Alarik kissed you back.
And a part of you thought that would change everything.
Tor was still talking, pricking a pin in their perfectly pleasant afternoon.
‘Alarik is Gevran to the bone. Clearheaded and cold-blooded, just like his father before him.’ She couldn’t stand the pity in her brother’s face, so she turned her gaze on the wolves.
But Tor kept going – because he was her older brother and he had to say it.
Because she was his little sister and she had to hear it.
‘Alarik will never choose his heart over his kingdom. No matter who it beats for.’
She tossed him a withering glare. ‘Are you done killing the mood?’
‘I’m not saying this to be cruel.’
‘I know.’ She huffed. ‘That makes it all the worse.’
He curled his arm around her. ‘Wren and I are leaving for Eana the day after the wedding. Think about what I said, Greta. If you want to work with beasts, to find a life beyond the bounds of Carrig, then come back with us. There’s more than enough wrangling work to go around. And honestly, I could use the help.’
His eyes shone with sincerity. His offer was a kindness, yes, but he was telling the truth.
There was a place for her in the kingdom of Eana – a new life – if she wanted it.
But how could she tell him that Gevra was stamped on her heart?
That the wild winds of this country stirred the furthest reaches of her soul?
How could she tell him that her love for the king and his kingdom were one and the same?
That if she wrenched herself away from it, she didn’t know how much of her would remain intact.
It was a big decision, a life-altering choice, and Greta’s head was still spinning from the day’s events.
‘Don’t answer me yet,’ said Tor. ‘Take a few days.’
When she said nothing, only chewed on her lip, he went on. ‘Guard your heart, nightingale. Don’t let it fall to ruin here.’
They turned back towards the palace, only to freeze at a sudden keening on the wind. Greta’s hand went to her chest, clutching at the shock of pain there. Tor doubled over, his breath coming in sharp bursts.
‘What is that?’ he said, stumbling forward, not towards the palace but the snow-capped mountains beyond. The beast that dwelled there was calling out to them. It had been growing restless these past weeks, as though it sensed the new fissure in the mountains and was desperately trying to reach it.
Thunder rumbled through the clear sky.
‘That’s an avalanche,’ he said, straightening up.
‘The third in as many days,’ said Greta, worriedly. She sensed the creature was trying to punch its way out of the mountains, unsettling the snow and sending new cracks up the rock.
She gave voice to her hunch.
‘An ancient dragon,’ Tor repeated, in bewilderment.
‘Reawakened after all this time … I suppose stranger things have happened. I have glimpsed them myself in Eana.’ He closed his eyes, and Greta sensed he was tuning his spirit to the thread of its distress.
‘How long has the creature been stirring?’
‘A few months,’ Greta guessed. ‘It’s buried deep.’
‘It feels strange,’ he said, uneasily.
‘Alarik thinks it’s dangerous.’
‘Alarik might be right.’ Tor’s frown deepened.
‘What happened last year with Oonagh Starcrest must have affected the rest of the mountains. Who knows how far her dark magic burrowed before she left this land.’ He snapped his chin down, his eyes flashing in warning.
‘Whatever happens, don’t try and free it. ’
Greta glowered at her brother. Wasn’t he moved by the beast’s pain like she was? Didn’t it tug at his wrangler’s heart? ‘You sound just like Alarik.’
‘Good. At least he hasn’t completely lost his head when it comes to you,’ muttered Tor.
‘The last time we excavated those mountains, we pulled out an undead witch who started a war that nearly killed us all. Let me talk to Alarik about a plan for the dragon. In the meantime, leave the mountains be. They’re trouble. ’
Greta swallowed her protests, still thinking about the beast and how she might help it as he stalked ahead, clicking his teeth for Elske to follow. Tollo and Gale trotted after him, too.
Greta jogged to keep up just as Wren Greenrock came sauntering down the path towards them.
She was cradling Dash and Boo in her arms, cooing at them every couple of steps. She stopped before Tor, turning her glittering smile on Greta.
‘Hello, at last,’ she said warmly. ‘I’m Wren. I hear you’re the best Iversen.’
Greta dipped her chin in greeting, immediately understanding how her brother had fallen head over heels with the charming witch queen. ‘Don’t let Hela hear you say that.’
‘Ahem,’ said Tor, pointedly.
Wren held up the cubs, squishing her face between them. ‘Look what I found, Tor. Twins!’
‘Wren,’ he said, on a sigh. ‘You promised you wouldn’t steal any of the animals.’
‘I never said anything about cubs.’
Greta chuckled. ‘I’m afraid Saga would be greatly distressed if you took her cubs away.’
‘Then we can take her, too.’ Wren beamed. ‘They can be part of Elske’s retinue.’
Tor gently wrestled the cubs from his beloved. ‘There’s no room in the sled, darling.’
Wren frowned as she relinquished them. ‘What if you got out and walked?’
‘You’d miss me too much.’ He flicked her gently on the nose, and she nipped at his finger.
‘You can play with them while you’re here,’ Greta suggested. ‘Have your fill of their cuteness before you head off again.’
Wren leaped to embrace her. ‘No wonder Alarik is obsessed with you,’ she said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She pulled back and removed a vintage bottle of frostfizz from the inside of her travelling cloak. ‘Why don’t we get an impromptu picnic going, and drink ourselves merry?’
The queen’s voice was light, but there was a certain shrewdness in her emerald gaze.
Greta suspected that Wren had heard about her kiss with the king and was trying to distract her from his impending wedding with good company, loveable beasts and what appeared to be the king’s most expensive bottle of frostfizz.
Buoyed by a surge of gratefulness, she reached for the bottle, eager to spend some time with her brother and his love. She would worry about the sting of heartbreak later.
And tomorrow, she would think about the rest of her life.