17. A Child’s Song and Lights That Touch the Earth #2
Sapphira takes a shaky breath, her eyes darting around all the curious faces. She takes an awkward bow and steps before the ice-mistress. She doesn’t know what to do, so she just repeats the demonstration she gave the men earlier—the snowflake dancing in her hand.
“I can’t believe it,” the elder gasps. “What a rare sight.”
Sapphira doesn’t understand what is going on, but she feels that in her long life, the woman hasn’t been left speechless often.
“What do you mean by rare ?” Kaelen asks. “We were told that this is where we’d find the children of ice.”
The woman stands from her throne, her body slow and weary.
“Let me introduce myself. Ice-Mistress Els?ra Eleksai of ?res?s.” She reaches out and touches Sapphira’s cheeks, palms warm and calloused against her skin.
There’s a grandmother’s kindness in her eyes, and though Sapphira has never known that sort of love herself, she can feel it.
“Ice-wielders are rare these days,” the ice-mistress says.
“Not many are born. Elders like myself can manipulate the ice and snow that grows here and gathers on the earth. But to create it is a different thing altogether. There was a tribe to the east that I last heard had a few ice-wielders, but I was only a girl then. I can’t be certain of their current status, though, I’m afraid.
We haven’t heard from them in years. They were constantly on the move. ”
Sapphira is surprised by her disappointment at the news. She doesn’t know what exactly she was expecting by coming here, and she told herself she wasn’t expecting anything at all. But a small part of her hoped she’d get to meet others like her.
“That’s okay,” Sapphira says, dipping her head, trying to hide her reaction to the news.
The woman purses her lips. “But, don’t worry. We Ice Clan are cousins of the branch of Frost. Which makes you family.”
Sapphira’s eyes widen, her gaze traveling back up to the woman as warmth blooms in her chest.
Bowing, Sekile says, “I am honored to meet one of you in my lifetime.” And then the other man drops to his knees too.
Sapphira is overwhelmed, speechless, and wide-eyed.
She isn’t a stranger to being treated like royalty, but this feels different somehow.
She has many questions though. Like how she came to be in Dansui—a place without magic.
Why did my father leave this place? she wonders.
“Come,” the ice-mistress says, taking Sapphira’s hand. I want to show you and your friends around the village. Have a meal with us and smile, young one. This is cause for a celebration.”
And so it is. Word spreads quickly about “the girl who claims to be an Heir of Ymir.” By the evening, Sapphira is followed by whispers and stares wherever she goes, giggly children racing behind her as she is led through the village by the elder.
The village is much bigger than she originally thought—less like a village and more like a city. And when Sapphira sees the bridge towering in the distance, she stops in her tracks.
It isn’t crystal. It’s ice . And it glitters under the snow-reflecting sun, spanning a vast and endless chasm.
“Where does that bridge lead to?” Sapphira asks.
Ice-Mistress Eleksai stops beside her, gazing out at the bridge, where guards sit on an ?kreüski’s back. The bridge glitters with ice crystals, and the curving structure appears almost human, like a skeleton protruding from a body with curved, arching spikes.
The ice-mistress doesn’t answer. She only smiles, then takes Sapphira’s arm and leads her farther into the village.
Preparations are made quickly, the villagers working in tandem to cook and decorate.
Banners are erected and flowers spread about as the Ice Clan works hard to make Sapphira feel welcome.
By the time the sun begins to fall over the Arctic, a feast has been prepared, and a large fire has been erected in the city center.
Children dance and play, climbing all over Kaelen, who pretends to hate all the attention. They beg him to show them his draek?n form again, and Sapphira rolls her eyes. “The show-off,” she mumbles, making Isabel giggle. “Lookin’ good, Kaelen!” she shouts, cupping her hands around her mouth.
He rolls his eyes, giving her a rude gesture back. “Thanks, brat!”
She laughs, a slow warmth filling her chest. First, the baby Hybller. Now, these Ice Clan children. Kaelen really loves children. It’s sweet.
We stand outside in the city center, at a large bonfire, the smoke billowing up into the sky in great big plumes.
The sky is bigger than Sapphira has even seen it before, like they’re standing at the highest point in the world and all she has to do is reach up and touch it.
The sky is blue and black, and clouds roll lazily by. I want to stay in this moment forever.
Sapphira is brought a dish carved from bone and covered with foods she has never seen before.
Everyone is eager for her to try their food.
Isabel eats around the meat, but Sapphira gives it a try.
The elk is succulent and falling off the bone, and the tart snowberry sorbet makes her mouth tingle.
Then someone hands her a flagon of a robust and sweet-smelling firewater that puts a few hairs on her chest and, she thinks, nearly sends her to an early grave.
She passes it off to Kaelen, who seems to enjoy the drink too much. She tells him to be careful, adding, “I don’t want to peel you off the ice in the morning.”
“Whoa,” Isabel says, grabbing Sapphira’s arm with her free hand. Her face is glowing in the low light, the fire lighting up the snow under their feet. “That drink really goes to your head, doesn’t it?” She sways closer, their lips nearly touching.
Sapphira nods, her smile dopey and her chest warm from the drink. “Firewater in Dansui is nothing like that. I’ve had a few sips at festivities, but it never hit me like that.”
“It’s snowberry mead, I heard,” Isabel says, giggling. “You should be careful what you put in your mouth, Sapphira. Not everyone has your tolerance.”
She reaches up and brushes her thumb over the edge of Sapphira’s lip to wipe away a crumb of bread, and Sapphira nearly falls into the woman’s touch, swaying forward as if to kiss her again.
A peal of laughter that bursts over the clearing breaks them apart. Kaelen is shifting in and out of his draek?n form, a tiny little takops floating above the children’s heads. Sapphira steps back from Isabel and nods.
“Right. I think Kaelen’s found the limit to his tolerance,” she says, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Isabel’s smile wavers. “I’ll have to crush some starstones to cure the headache I know he’ll soon have.”
Sapphira nods, saved from any more embarrassing displays when the two men from before approach them—Sekile and the man who threatened Kaelen. Her eyes harden.
“My name is Teln?i,” the man introduces himself.
In one hand, he has a plate of food piled with only meats and dessert.
He holds out the other hand for Sapphira to shake.
He pulls it back when she only stares at it.
Then he runs it through his thick, black hair.
“Right, and you’re glaring at me because you’re mad I threatened your pretty friend,” he mumbles.
Sapphira scrunches her nose at his description of Kaelen as “pretty,” and the man beside Sekile elbows him. He’s cute, sure, in the way a little brother is.
“Sekile,” the other man introduces himself, not making the mistake of putting out his hand.
“I know.” Sapphira crosses her arms.
“Right,” Sekile says, blowing out a breath. It creates a cloud of mist in the air. “We just wanted to say it wasn’t personal before. We were protecting our clan.”
“And we brought a peace offering!” Teln?i thrusts something into her face. “Muktuk. It’s frozen whale skin and blubber.”
He gives a piece to Sapphira and Isabel, then says, “ Mee vireingu og ást, ” before popping a piece of meat into his mouth. Sekile does the same.
Isabel looks over at Sapphira, then gives the men a short, respectful nod in thanks.
Repeating their actions, she says, “Mee vireingu og ást.” Sekile claims her pronunciation is surprisingly good.
Then she eats the delicacy. Her face lights up in delight.
“Delicious!” she says, turning to Sapphira to urge her to try it.
Sapphira looks down at the whale. There are scores across the blubber, and it’s beaded with salt. “Is this why I saw a group dragging that creature earlier?” she asks.
Sekile nods. “Whale is very precious in our clan. It was fate that you came here today after our young hunters returned with one. It’s a sign of wealth and good luck.”
Popping it into her mouth, Sapphira groans at the taste. Salty and fishy, chewy but firm. She has nothing to compare it to. “I can see why you love it,” she says, covering her mouth to speak. “Thank you for sharing it with us.”
The two men bow. “No, thank you ,” Sekile says. “I’ve never seen my grandmother this excited. She has lived a long time, and she was only a child the last time she met an Heir of Ymir. You give her hope for our future.”
“Hope?” Sapphira asks.
Teln?i squeezes Sekile’s arm to stop his response. “What he means is it’s a wondrous day.” Teln?i claps. “Now go, celebrate! Show your elskhugi around ?res?s. I’m sure she’d love to see your home.”
They leave Sapphira and Isabel alone, and Sapphira’s chest feels cracked open by his words— home . She turns away from Isabel’s searching gaze, not wanting the chimera to see the tears gathering in her eyes.
She mingles with the villagers, enjoying the food and the warmth of the fire, and when the sun sets, the children swarm the three newcomers, grabbing Kaelen, Sapphira’s and Isabel’s hands and pull them up onto the hill. Sapphira has no clue what’s happening, but she’s infected by their joy.
“Whoa,” what is happening?” Kaelen chuckles, eyes wide in suprise as they meet Sapphira’s. She smiles, shrugging.