Chapter 48 – Isolde
ISOLDE
The tang of salt teased my nostrils, quickening my pulse. On foot we would hit the coast within a half hour. Far less time if we flew. Which meant, our march under the cover of spruce trees was over. It was time to rise. I held up a hand.
Movement ceased, and when I turned, I found five hundred pairs of eyes watching me.
Exhaling, I removed my white fur cloak, a luxurious item that indicated my station.
Thyra did the same and together we lay the furs on the ground.
They’d kept us warm and protected from the wind while flying, but a heavy cloak would only help drag us to the depths if we were tossed in the sea. If we survived, we’d return for them.
I mounted Arava as Thyra got on Lasvin’s back. Together we rose in the air, still covered by the thick trees and the illusion, but high enough so those in the back could see me.
“From here we fly,” I said loud and clear as the pegasi made circles above the small army. My voice carried on the sea breeze, and my silver wings unfolded behind me. Thyra flew at my side. “This may be the only battle we face against House Aaberg and their mage allies.”
Stars, I prayed it was.
“This day may keep your families safe. Keep battles from your doorstep. Keep your pantries plentiful. All we need to do is win—and we have the advantage.” I pointed in the direction of the ships. “They don’t know we’re coming.”
“They believe Isolde and I will march to Avaldenn,” Thyra’s voice joined mine. “They think we’ll play by their rules.” She snorted. “Don’t they realize we’ve been making our own all our lives?”
Rebel fists filled the air.
“Don’t they know that when King Magnus killed our families and took the throne of Winter’s Realm, he damned so many?
For decades he did not control winter, and thousands suffered.
All for his pride. His egotistical desire.
” Thyra’s chin lifted. “Don’t let the melted snow fool you.
If King Magnus thought bringing it back would suit his purposes, he would.
But we, my sister and I and all our people, will suffer no longer.
We’ll take down the White Bear and bring justice back to this land.
Together we’ll all make Winter’s Realm a place of dreams. A land that thrives alongside its people. ”
Fists raised, and my heart lifted. While Thyra and I had the support of many lords, it wasn’t like we’d spoken to each and every person. That was an impossible feat.
Now, however, we could see the support on so many faces. See the disdain for the current monarch. In the rebel’s faces, I also saw a love for Thyra. And while I didn’t think they loved me yet, they respected me. I caught the same respect in the eyes of many others and marveled.
Maybe the fact we wielded shadows was not such a horrible thing? The news had been released and these people didn’t seem to care. Others like Geiravor and Yrsa had not either. But were they the rare ones? Or the many?
“The moment we leave this soil, we change the course of history. We will grasp the stars’ attention!” I shouted. “We’ll make them listen. Make their wills bend to ours!”
“Down with the king!” Qildor shouted, and a ripple of agreement rang out.
“And we’ll bring Prince Vale and Thantrel home!” added Filip, sitting astride a gryphon not far away. “They’ve believed in many of you. Fought for your families. Forget not that we fight for a better kingdom, but also for those who have fallen into hardships. Fallen into enemy hands!”
“For Prince Vale!” a weathered Balik soldier agreed. “The fair and just Warrior Bear!”
“For Thantrel Riis.” A faerie soldier clad in the black and red of House Riis raised a fist. “Never has a kinder—if a bit rascally—male lived.”
More agreement. Many grins from those wearing House Riis colors.
“To making the stars listen!” Palms up, I lifted my hands in the air.
The army joined, flying up to our level, preparing to attack.
Behind the crowd, Rynni transformed into a dragon.
She wasn’t a trained soldier, but she’d helped carry many through the journey here.
Now, she’d follow, attack when possible, and when necessary, use her single blow of fire to devastating effect.
“For Winter’s Realm!” Thyra called, and Lasvin shot to the sky.
I ascended with her and the moment we burst from the cover of the trees, my attention locked on the ships.
Fifty huge vessels hiding behind a handful of islands, waiting for King Magnus to appear.
Waiting to annihilate the Virtoris fleet from both the west and east. We soared to meet them, far faster in the air than on land. The distance halved in minutes.
“Incoming!” I screamed when the first blast of fire came rushing our way.
The army forked, seconds before the long stream of fire flew so close that I felt the sizzle of the flame as we adjusted course.
“Are we sure they weren’t anticipating us?” Freyia yelled. As ever, the Valkyrja flew closest to my twin and me, our protectors. Our most trusted.
“Can’t see how!” Thyra shouted back.
I couldn’t either. We knew from how information had made its way north that King Magnus had eyes on us in Myrr.
It was plausible that messages had winged their way to the loyalists, telling them that we had forces on the move.
That we did not seem to be marching but trying another tactic.
After all, it was difficult to contain all the ravens going out of homes and aviaries.
So difficult that no one in Myrr had bothered to try.
But the general population of Myrr hadn’t known where we’d been heading. They had only seen a line of soldiers coming out of a brothel, but each male and female in arms had been told to stay quiet about our destination.
Had someone told? Or was this spray of fire magic simply the Nava being prepared for an attack on any and all fronts?
Really, it did not matter. All that mattered was that we closed the gap. That we avoided the many streams of fire coming at us and seized those ships.
“Fly like the wind, Arava.” I leaned over her midnight mane.
Her wings beat the air as if the wind had insulted her, and we picked up speed. My mare wove through the assaults, and I felt the glint of delight inside her at showing what she could do. How well she flew. Her power and might on display for all to witness.
We neared the ships, and I scanned below, searching for the lead vessel. It was easy enough to spot, as the largest ship with Aaberg blue sails and the house banner flew from atop the crow’s nest, whipping in the wind.
“That one. Drop down a bit. I’ll jump, and then you stay safe.” I pointed, and Arava descended. She came in hot, and most of the sailors scattered, but a few remained. Those who must have thought they had magic strong enough to take on a pegasus.
Each one of them was mistaken.
Like dragons and ice giants and other wild creatures born of magic, a pegasi’s hide was protective in more ways than one. Only the most powerful could penetrate my mare’s skin.
The two attacks that landed bounced off Arava, and I retaliated in kind to those who tried to harm her, blasting them with icicles. By the time the sailors realized what was happening—that they stood no chance against us—it was too late.
I leapt from Arava’s back, pulled Sassa’s Blade from the scabbard, and fell upon my enemies with a frigid wind.
They screamed and scattered as the gusts burned their skin, but not before I cut one down, my sword’s sharp edge biting into his leg.
A female whirled back, a metal throwing snowflake in her hand, but with a flick of my wrist she was frozen in place.
“I’m Isolde Falk,” I declared, “and I claim this ship.”
“To the afterworld with you, monster!” someone shouted back, and an arrow whizzed by.
Winged archers balanced on the horizontal poles above and two others in the crow’s nest. Their distance would have kept them safe from me, but others in my army had spotted them too.
My forces fell upon the archers and a few fae who had leapt into the air to fight, cutting them down, disarming them.
Bodies dropped to the deck with hard thuds, spattering the dark wood with blood. The smell of metal mixed with salt.
My throat tightened at the death, at knowing these males and females had probably done nothing wrong. Nothing but choosing to remain loyal to the king. I allowed my unease to pass through me, even as my blade arched and my magic blasted at one opponent, then the next. Another, another, another.
I spun and thrust and feinted and parried with strength that would make Vale proud. With every advance, I pictured his face. Pictured finding him and rescuing him, very much alive. Having his arms around me again.
Above, a few of my army still flew. Mostly gryphons and the pegasi and our archers. The winged creatures might be instrumental in a fast getaway, or in transporting the injured, and the archers would always be more effective from above.
On the decks, blood slicked the wood. I turned on my heel, taking the ship in a complete circle. That was when I saw a faerie I despised to the end of Isila and back.
Roar Lisika, his copper hair catching on the last rays of the sun, shot at opponents from the upper deck.
He’d lost a leg, but that didn’t negate his skill with a bow, and when five Riis soldiers ran at him, he did not hesitate.
He shot. Hitting one. The other four swerved out of danger, only to come at him again, faster.
However, seconds before they would have engaged the Warden of the West in swords, Roar shifted.
The leg he’d lost grew again, and I stiffened at the realization that his magic could render him whole in new forms. If I wasn’t terrified for the soldiers, I’d have been in awe over the power.
But I was terrified. My blood pounded in my ears as Roar leapt at his enemies. Two claws met two soldiers, slicing them open. The other two darted away, but not fast enough.
His sharp teeth ripped one in half as he swiped at the other and punctured the fae in many places. Blood sprayed as both Riis soldiers collapsed.
I leapt into the air, determined that no one else should fall to him. Wind and the faintest sprinkle of rain began to beat against me as I soared for Roar. But before I got there, a white hawk dove from the sky and attacked the snow leopard’s right eye.
I froze as a snarl erupted from the beast. Roar batted at his face. Arla was agile and fast, though, and she flew away, then back, attacking again. Drawing blood above Roar’s eye.
I twisted and found Aleksander standing off to the side, watching with glee on his face. His expression told me there was history there. Something so poignant that he’d risk his hawk.
Not that Arla seemed to mind. After days of following a ship, she appeared to relish being on the attack.
Wait. Why is Arla here? She was following the king’s ship, and they should not be here yet.
I lifted into the air, high enough to gaze out beyond the islands, towards the open sea. My stomach sank as a fleet of ships, at least a hundred strong, entered the Shivering Sea. We would not have time to meet with our allies and prepare for King Magnus had returned early.