1. Chapter One
Chapter One
Gerta
Gaelia, during the first year of Emperess Elspeth’s regency . . .
S ome say that the Snow Queen is the protector of Gaelia, the silent defender against all our enemies. They revere her as a living saint and make her into a symbol of our freedom.
I know the truth. She is no better than the southern invaders, who say they are our new overlords. Because when they stole our lands, she remained on her own.
The icy palace atop Schneekonigin Mountain might be a beacon of hope to others when the light gleams upon its alleged ice walls. But I see it for what it is atop the mountain no one has ever successfully climbed to the summit of— a fortress for a woman who looks down on us and does nothing to ease our suffering.
She won’t save our people, so I will.
“Gertie,” Smalls whispers as he crouches his massive frame beside me in the snow. “Everyone’s in position.”
“Even the caravan?”
My adopted brother smiles at the old joke between us. The Imparias pride themselves on the order they seek to subdue us under, but their perfect schedules are their greatest weakness. After all, if we know they always send the supply caravan to Ewigkeit Fortress the day before a full moon along this very route they carved between our mountains, is it really our fault for intercepting them ?
But they will never change, and neither shall we relent, so here we are.
When I hold out my hand, Smalls hands me the looking glass. Then I adjust it so I can see the approaching dots a little more clearly.
This month’s caravan comprises of two covered wagons pulled by four horses each. There are two men wearing the teal uniforms of the Constantinium regiment. Four more men wearing those same uniforms ride on horseback, with two flanking each wagon.
Twisting my looking glass, I get a better view of the wagon in the back. I want to see if it’s sinking as low in the snow as the last caravan was.
With how desperate Ewigkeit is becoming, I know it’s only a matter of time before they start sending caravans the opposite direction. We won’t stop those, because the foreigners returning to their own homeland is all we ever wanted.
What I see on the wagon almost causes me to drop my looking glass. While another soldier in uniform is driving the wagon, the person behind him wears a gray gown.
“There is a woman among them,” I hiss.
“So what?” Smalls shrugs. “We have women among us, too. But they don’t show any chivalry toward us.”
“But the law requires a life for a life concerning the deaths of their foot soldiers. What do you think will happen if we kill one of their womenfolk?”
“We won’t.” Smalls rolls his eyes. Despite his girth, his face seems almost infantile in certain lights, making him seem perfectly innocent. “We’ve stopped half a dozen caravans causing nothing more than surface injuries to their soldiers and us. There’s nothing to fear.”
Yet I suddenly have the terrible sense that there is everything to fear today .
Biting my lip, I spy Wolf waiting for her signal on the road just by the curve. And even though I don’t see them, I know Biggs and Prince are in place just as Smalls said.
“Tread with caution,” I whisper.
Smalls widens his eyes in an attempt to display more innocence. “Don’t I always?”
“No.” Still, I flip the looking glass, letting it catch the setting sunlight so that Wolf can see.
She nods, and her tiny form slips into the sparse bushes that grow in defiance to the constant snow and ice.
A moment later, a monstrosity three times her size emerges. It stands on hind legs, with its back arched forward. Claws hang from the front paws and saliva drips from the snout.
It’s been a while since we reminded these Imparias how wild we can be. It’s time to refresh their memories.
Smalls nestles himself into a snowdrift as he prepares his crossbow. I flatten myself on my stomach so I won’t be spotted easily as they pass us just ten feet below.
Then Wolf charges into the path in her horrifying werwolfe form, which isn’t her actually namesake. Instead, she is an elongated snow leopard that stands on her back legs, with her drooping arms arched in front of her, ready to slash our enemies.
The horses whinny in panic. The two guarding the first wagon rear, tossing both riders.
Biggs and Prince will neutralize the other two riders, but unlike Smalls, I don’t get to stay up here and make sure everything goes according to plan. I have my own role to fulfill.
I jump off the ledge, bracing myself as I plummet toward the first wagon.
The cloth covering gives way beneath me, only slowing my fall but not breaking it. Unfortunately, my feet tangle with the cloth, and I tip backward. Then I continue falling .
I crash into the wagon, awkwardly landing on its inventory. The impact on my spine isn’t nearly as painful as I was expecting, so I take that as a victory.
“I heard this territory was wickedly untamed . . .”
Startling at the masculine voice so close, I turn to find a dark blue eyes, which I’m told are the color of the summer sky, staring down at me from a hard face that is rosy from the cold.
It takes me longer to realize that the arms that go along with that voice are partially cradling me. I didn’t fall onto inventory— I crashed into this strange man’s lap.
This strange man who is wearing a teal blue uniform and a bemused expression. “But they certainly did not tell me that it was so wild that maidens rained down from the Heavens!”