3. Maddy
Chapter 3
Maddy
W hen the boat reaches the bottom of the steps, I find my feet taking me toward the temple. I know Kain is probably following me, his presence a burning shadow at the edge of my awareness. I don't care. As long as I don't have to talk to him, as long as I have the illusion of solitude, I can try to work through my roiling thoughts.
I reach the garden and sit on the grass. The smells are fresh, green, and alive, the dusky light muting everything to soft-edged shapes. I wish it were colder.
A small flurry of snow shimmers over me, then dies out, and a smile takes my lips as I stare at the fast-dissolving snowflakes on my outstretched hand. To have magic…to have control of ice and snow… I've always wanted this. Always dreamed of it during those endless days trapped in the palace, watching other ice-fae command winter itself, while I remained powerless.
I froze my skin to touch Kain.
How far could I take that? How far should I take that? The possibilities spiral out before me, tempting and terrifying.
At best, it could result in injury. At worst… it could result in my becoming a tool in whatever destruction the fire-fae was bent on wreaking. Another puppet, just with different strings.
I should listen to my mind, and accept the fear it is so brutally trying to make me see. But my body is singing a different tune. My body is the opposite of afraid of him. It's desperate for him.
My heart hammers when I stare into his eyes, my soul yearns for his protection, and, worse, some deeply buried part of me wants his permission. I want him to tell me I can punish those who have wronged me. I want him to stand beside me, speaking words of revenge and retribution that justify the anger building inside me.
I drop my head into my hands on a sigh.
My sister would talk me out of this madness in a heartbeat. She is steady, logical, kind, and realistic. Whereas I am…
What am I?
Tenacious.
Nobody can take that from me. There has always been a way to keep trying, to keep pushing, to keep testing and hide it from everybody. I've always found small ways around the barriers in my life.
But beyond my inability to give up? I have no idea what I am. I don't even know what I want to be anymore. For most of my life, I've had little choice in the way of goals. I didn't want to be lonely. I wanted to push the limits of what I could experience before I died. But I never believed I could be cured.
Now, though… All the limits, all the barriers, the tiny pool of options I had, have been blown apart.
I have magic. Real, tangible power. I have access to some of the world's most powerful fae. I have a friend. I have a giant killer bear, for Odin's sake.
And I have Kain. In some fucked-up capacity, I know I have him. Not his love, or his allegiance even. But he is there. Always. Just as he said. His presence is both anchor and tempest, threatening to either ground me or sweep me away entirely.
Can he be a tool in my arsenal? A driving force to push harder, to test my limits? The fire to my ice, urging me toward greater heights?
Or is he the antithesis to my new opportunities? A villain who has waited for someone as na?ve and desperate as I am to allow him to break free of his prison? All that rage, all that destructive power, just waiting for someone foolish enough to give him an opening.
I must stay in control of myself. I can't let the explosion of my life, the overwhelming change in everything around me, lead me to make dangerous, deadly decisions. The palace might have been a cage, but at least I knew its boundaries.
If I am stronger, I can resist him. If I am better informed, I can choose my own path. If I am in control of my emotions, I can protect myself without him.
This is my chance to be something more. My chance to decide what I want and how to get it, without anybody else telling me what to do, hiding me away, shutting me down.
The blackouts are not going to kill me. Every single day is different now. Everything is within my control.
And I will not let anyone take that control from me.
"It's mine." The words leave my lips in a whisper. I'm not sure to whom I'm saying them, but hearing them out loud, even as quiet as they are in the calm garden air, gives me strength.
"My decisions are mine. My power belongs to me."
There's a flicker, and my body tenses as deep cold washes through me—colder than any natural chill, the kind of cold that comes from the depths of winter itself.
"Thyrvi."
She's crushing flowers beneath her massive paws, and I let out a long breath. There I am, trying to assert my control, and I accidentally summon a four-hundred-pound bear.
My power will belong to me. When I learn to control it.
She sniffs the air, her nose twitching, then cranes her huge neck, looking over at the church path with predatory focus.
"There are no enemies. Only the fire-fae. Why is he over there?" Her mental voice carries a hint of challenge, as if she's disappointed by the lack of threats to dismember.
I glance toward the path. I can't see him, but I'm not in the least surprised that he's there.
"Because I'm taking some time to think."
She looks at me and blinks, her dark eyes reflecting nothing. "Why?"
I can't help my laugh. It's pure Thyrvi—direct, impatient, caring nothing for introspection. "Because, mighty warrior, I need to work out how to control you. And how to stop that fire-fae controlling me."
She continues to stare at me, and I find myself examining her inky eyes rather than thinking hard about anything. She said she didn't exist before. How can she just have come into being? No birth, no childhood, no growth. But then, she's a part of me. Did she grow with me? Was she always there, waiting in the depths of my soul, gathering strength?
"Thinking helps you gain control?" she asks eventually, doubt clear in her tone.
"Yes. It leads to the right action." I hope.
She sits, crushing more flowers. "I am a believer in direct action," she says, and I can feel her restlessness, like an itch under my skin.
"What if you make a mistake? How will you undo it?"
She makes a grumbly noise in her chest. "I do not make mistakes."
"You tried to kill someone you shouldn't have only a few hours ago."
"It would not have been a mistake to kill that cowardly foe." Her certainty is absolute, a predator's logic untroubled by moral complexities.
"If you are here to help me, then it would have been a mistake to do something I didn't want you to." I try to keep my voice gentle but firm.
She lifts one huge paw and swipes at the earth, beheading a whole group of daisies. I wait for her to argue, but apparently destroying the daises is her only response.
I can sense the need to tread carefully. I wonder if she doesn't like the fact that she's controlled by someone else. I can empathize. But also, she's a Giant killer. I can't have her gutting rooks all over the place just because they look at me wrong.
"Will you help me work out how to summon you properly?"
She lifts her head. "Yes."
"What made you come here, just now?"
"You felt strong." Pride colors her mental voice.
I frown. "Really?"
She stands and shakes herself, her massive form rippling like a white avalanche. "No. That is wrong. Your feelings were strong."
I nod. That makes more sense. But she didn't come when Kain and I were alone. My feelings were very strong then, so it's not desire or pleasure that brings her. Or perhaps those emotions aren't strong enough to wake the berserker rage she represents.
Fear has summoned her before, in the glade and in the lake. And what was I feeling just now? Confidence, or resolution? The need to take control, to own my power… Is that what calls to her?
"Can you feel me all the time?"
"No. When it is strong, I come." Simple. Direct.
Kain's wolf appears when he's angry. But he says his wolf is always there, always aware of him. Is Thyrvi different? Or do we just have to learn to do that? To live with our inner monsters always awake, always watching?
"Well, I'm pleased to know that you come when I need you."
She straightens. "To vanquish enemies. To send them to hel , where they belong. To ensure they never?—"
"Yes," I cut her off before she can detail exactly how she plans to dismember my foes. "And also, to save me when I faint."
She dips her head in acknowledgment. "Like in the spring."
"Exactly like in the spring."
"Yes. I will come for that too." The protectiveness in her voice matches the surge of fierce affection I feel through our bond.
"Thank you."
"And you will learn to keep me here more?" There's an eagerness in her question.
"If you don't kill folk the whole time you're here, then yes. I think there might be a way to keep you present in my head, without your actually being here."
She pulls her head back, whiskers twitching. "That sounds… strange."
I consider a minute. She isn't like the other val-tivars , I'm sure, so there's no point making any assumptions based on them. "Where would you like to be?"
She swings her snout around and looks out toward the canopy. "There is much life, much challenge, much to explore out there." Her longing echoes my own desire for freedom, for experience, for the chance to test our limits.
I start to tell her it's dangerous out there but stop myself. I already know her well enough to know that she won't take kindly to hearing she can't do something. I nod instead.
"We will try to find a way for you to be here always, but by my side when I need you."
To my surprise, I feel something from her. A frisson of electric energy, moving through my chest, making me want to jump to my feet, to move, to do something. Power and possibility.
"I want this." The excitement in her voice carries the same feeling, confirming that it's coming from her. Our emotions are feeding into each other.
"I'll talk to the Valkyrie. We'll find out if it is possible."
She lifts and lowers her paws absently, oblivious to the foliage destruction she's causing. "Yes. Yes, we will do this." She thinks a beat longer, then dips her head in a nod. "And we will make it colder."
I smile at her. "That might be harder to achieve."
"But we will try?"
"Sure." And I mean it.