Chapter 25
Talvie
“We kissed again.”
I’m too loud in the quiet glasshouse. The words tumble out, slipping off my tongue without permission.
Daria doesn't even blink. Just keeps trimming wilted mint leaves, as if confessions before breakfast over frost-burned herbs are an everyday occurrence. Maybe they are. I can’t be her only employee whose life is a mess. A delicious mess.
“We’re getting very good at it.” I spin with my shears and accidentally clip a bit of hanging arguta vine. Oops. I hope Daria missed that. “He is, anyway. I mean, he’s always been good at it. And at acting. It makes sense I keep forgetting it’s fake when he makes it feel so real.”
Daria raises a silver brow. Just the one.
“Not real real. I mean, not actual feelings, because I can’t—” I press a hand to my forehead to stop the avalanche, forgetting all about the shears until they catch in my curls. “It’s not real for him. Obviously. For me either, of course. I’m not getting attached.”
Her other eyebrow joins the first.
I untangle the shears, taking some hair with them. “But we talk, too! Which is almost as good as kissing. Close second, anyway. And I don’t think that part’s fake. At least, the stuff he tells me is real. Not that I don’t share too, Daria! I do. It would be weird if I didn’t.”
I think Daria regrets her lack of a third eyebrow.
“Right. You don’t care about all that. Why would you?”
“Girl—”
“I know. I’m stopping now. Although you did say you thought this would be fun to watch, which must be why I keep telling you too much. But I’ll stop. I’ll quit boring you.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Daria goes back to gathering mint with a faint twitch of her lips.
I grin. “I’m so glad one of us is enjoying this.”
“Mm hmm…”
“Okay, yes, fine. I’m enjoying some of it too.”
The truth is, I keep tucking away moments with Lark like shiny pebbles to hold when this is all over.
His rough voice when he says goodnight after we kiss.
The way he holds me until I fall asleep.
The catch in my breath every time I find him cradling Eevi to his bare chest, singing her to sleep.
How the bedside lamps burnish his white hair in streaks of gold and warm his pale skin, and how I want to wrap my arms around both of them and sway to his tune.
The sheepish grin he gives me when he catches me swooning. And how my heart answers with a smile of its own.
All the bits that feel real.
There’s a cadence to Lark’s presence—music in every word and a beat underlying every movement, as soothing as a summer breeze. I can’t help but sway to the rhythm of Lark and want to lose myself in that secret song only I can hear.
That’s real.
And it’s not just him.
That conversation with the kids about the queen shifted something inside of me.
There’s light now, dancing through the cracks in my darkness.
It’s like my time with them is shaking off cobwebs from my soul, and I’m remembering happier times back home.
I remember my stepmother before she became the Ice Queen.
She had a sparkle in her smile, a lilt in her laugh when I made faces behind Is?’s back, and the patient care of a mother when she fixed my braid for full moon revels.
It makes me want to give those same moments to these kids, and more beyond them.
Taking my basket, I drift to the rear of the glasshouse, where hillaberries cluster like turquoise pearls, waiting to be plucked.
Far enough from prying ears, I whisper, “I thought I was the only one who lost something when Taynia changed. But nothing could be further from the truth.”
Lumi’s moonstone warms at my throat.
“These younglings barely remember warmth. No spring rains, no berry picking in the summer sun, no lazy afternoons in mossy groves. Just frost and hunger.”
Valkie has been mourning.
“No, Lumi. I’ve been hiding.”
Then Valkie will stop hiding when the time is right.
“What if the time is now? What if I can actually do something?” I bite my lip. “I don’t know if one play can melt a frozen heart, but it’s more than I’ve tried in three years of shrinking away.”
Then it is worth trying.
I nod…and catch Daria watching across the lehtok beds. Brilliant. We can add talking to myself to today’s display of crazy.
Thinking about my father’s death and Taynia’s betrayal still threatens to drag me under, but I’ve stewed in the bitterness too long.
No matter how crazy this plan is, it’s time I stepped up.
This reign of cruelty has to end, and I’m the only one who can change things from the top.
Somehow, I have to get Taynia to see me as more than a sad reminder of my father, to rescind her order to get rid of me, and to start respecting and listening to me instead. I’ve been hiding for too long.
As the Talvie my father raised, as the future queen of The Hinterlands, and maybe most importantly, as the person Lark thinks I am…I have a lot to live up to.
The town square glows like a snow globe come to life.
Lanterns hang from crooked posts and icicle-strung eaves, casting amber halos over snowy cobblestones and frosty awnings.
Some lamps are dented tin, others old glass jars painted with patterns, and some are simple paper bags enchanted with glow charms. A mismatched collection to be sure, but the warmth they give off is golden and inviting.
Strands of silver-threaded ribbon flutter from shop signs, twinkling like starlight.
“They look like your hair, Val,” Helkki remarks.
I can’t stop staring.
Back in the capital, full moon revel decorations were always elaborate and expensive—carved crystal moons, enchanted fountains of light, full orchestras with gilded instruments.
This…this is magic spun from scraps.
Between handmade paper moons and garlands of dried berries, children laugh as they scatter powdered sugar over sticky buns. Music is everywhere, played on worn kanteles and tarnished flutes. All the imperfections are perfectly enchanting.
Aili tugs at my sleeve. “Can I have a pulla bun?”
The sweet cardamom scent wafting from the baker’s stall makes me miss Lark. “Let’s get enough for everyone,” I say.
“But I wanted one just for me,” she huffs.
Beside me, Katja snorts. “That tracks.”
“You’ll get your own,” I promise Aili.
Hen, the baker, takes our order and slides a warm paper bundle across the counter, smiling at Aili pressed to my side, Eevi snug in the sling, and the rest orbiting close. “You all talked your ?ti into treats, huh?” they ask warmly.
I blink, caught off guard at being called their mother. My mouth opens to correct Hen, but the words tangle somewhere between my heart and my throat, and the next customer starts ordering before I find my voice.
The ache in my chest is a shock. Shining Deep, I want that.
I want it almost as much as I want Lark to keep the kids. Maybe even as much as I wish I could keep him. I follow in a daze, stunned by the force of this wanting that has struck me out of nowhere.
Sweetbreads in hand, the twins slip into the crowd with glittering eyes, while Helkki has found face paint somewhere and now sports a crescent moon on one cheek and a glitter-coated creature on the other.
Eevi waves from the sling against my chest, grabbing for the sky with a giggle every time we pass a lantern.
Around me, laughter lifts into the air like sparks.
People call out to their friends as they spot them, and the music spins us all into dance.
I breathe deep of the heady spices and sweet treats, my feet beginning to move in familiar patterns.
Only a couple of huntsmen linger around the edges of the crowd, so I keep a loose eye on the kids while we dance, snack some more, and let the full moon tell stories with us wrapped into its tales.
I’ve barely begun to wonder when I should round them up and head home, when a bone-chilling howl breaks the night. Katja startles, exchanging a worried look with Aili. From the milling crowd, the twins and Helkki reappear as if it was a summoning cry.
“Too close,” Katja murmurs.
“We’re safe here. No need to worry.” I try to sound certain, though I’m unsure why they look so rattled. The music only missed a beat. Everything is carrying on.
“Way too close,” Johannes agrees as if I never spoke, his eyes scanning for escape.
This is Ylvara, place of the she-wolf. Wolves must be common in the Frozen Forest, right? The rest of the crowd has already returned to dancing. No one else seems worried.
Katja and the twins push their way out of the square, purposeful and tense. Why are they moving toward danger?
“Hey, let’s stay in the crowd where it’s safe. I’m sure no wolves will wander into a revel. Aren’t there wards?” My voice lifts with hope. Or are wards yet another thing I take for granted as a Point Fae? Maybe these folk don’t have wards.
Ignoring me, they keep going.
Helkki tugs Aili’s hand, her glitter-smeared face set. “Come on,” she tells me, more serious than I’ve ever seen her.
My feet follow without input from my brain.
At the edge of town, Katja tosses her jacket to me, and I catch it automatically as her wings spread behind her. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”
“I’m going to fly ahead. They should be this way.”
With no more explanation, she lifts off the ground with a flutter of gossamer lavender wings, too delicate-looking to hold her. I don’t have time for wonder. Katja sets a startling pace, with the twins breaking into a run to follow.
“Come on,” Helkki urges again.
Then we’re running down the track, Eevi bouncing against my chest. I promised Lark they’d be safe, and now this? I can’t lose them!
“We need to head back,” I call out in vain. It falls on deaf ears.
The path narrows as we wind through trees, boots skidding on old pine needles and patches of ice. Branches whip past. I don’t even try to keep up with the boys. I just focus on keeping Aili from falling and not losing Helkki’s bright crimson hair ahead of me in the silvery gloom.
Then the woods split open ahead, and an enormous shape bursts from the trees.
The monster that emerges is one I’ve only read about and seen as a stuffed trophy mounted on my father’s wall.
Huge. Shaggy. A sloped back, massive paws, and a maw full of glistening teeth.
A fenriswulf.
The twins scatter to the trees on each side as it barrels toward them.
Shades of the gremlin attack flood my memory, but I won’t be useless this time. I have to protect the kids. Immediately, an ice spear forms in my hand. This time it's steady and strong.
Thank you, Beron, for all the training, even if you’re a giant traitor.
But as I level my aim at the beast’s heart, judging its thunderous approach, Katja swoops between us in a violet blur.
“No!” she screams.
My spear goes wide.
The fenriswulf snaps its jaws, leaping after her as she flutters up and away. I use the opening to summon another ice spear, forming it in my hand with ease.
“Val, don’t!” Helkki screeches as a small body slams into my leg. Aili latches on, nearly toppling me. The boys come running back, hands raised, shouting over one another.
All at once, I understand.
Katja wasn’t protecting us from the wolf.
She protected the wolf from me.
Realization is a bolt of lightning. My spear fractures midair, falling in jagged frost shards to my feet.
The fenriswulf snarls. Lunges.
I act on instinct.
Casting both arms wide, I call ice to me. Not sharp. Not deadly. But strong. I turn my magic loose.
Crystals fill the air, swirling and twisting. I need everything. As much as I can. The forest vanishes behind a curtain of ice, a blizzard of frost. I gather it all. It surges from me in a giant blast of cold.
Silence falls.
Ice creaks.
Slowly, the last of the glittering frost settles to the ground. Behind it, a solid frozen block towers before us, taller than any fae. Inside, the fenriswulf glares through the ice.
The beast is frozen mid-step, a broken shackle dangling from one foot. Its flanks heave. Intelligent eyes scan in every direction. But it can’t move. The threat is contained.
I can’t believe I did that. Has my magic ever been that strong before?
A cheer breaks out behind me.
“That was brilliant,” Juani exclaims.
“I knew we should have told you,” Johannes agrees.
“Told me…?”
“Your magic is amazing!” Aili says with awe.
Katja flutters to the ground in front of me, breathless but composed. “Thank you for not hurting him. That was quick thinking.”
Heart racing, I take a hesitant step forward. “That’s Mikael, then? I was right?”
“Yeah,” Helkki says far too cheerfully, bouncing ahead to press both hands and then her entire face to the ice cube. “He’s a fenriswulf. Cool, right?”
“He sure is cool now,” Juani quips, then collapses into laughter.
The rest of us stare uneasily at the giant wolf-cicle, until Katja gasps. “Where’s Lark? How did Mika break free?”
My heart takes off racing again.
This is what they do every full moon. This is their ‘boys’ night’. Lark must…what? Chain Mika up? Lash a vicious beast to a tree and hope for the best? Drowning idiots!
But if Mika is here—
What happened to Lark?