CHAPTER THIRTEEN The Frozen Lake #3
Sophie couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She sensed, as keenly as an electric shock, that the wolf saw, felt, experienced the woods in a completely different way from her.
He could see deep into the night. He could feel the quality of the snow with his paw, understanding how long winter would be by the depth of the ice crust. He could smell Viflyanka’s sweat, hear the pulses of every one of them and know who would be the slowest runner, the weakest prey.
But he didn’t just take in this information; it was as if he became whatever was around him.
He was a part of the world he inhabited.
He seemed to be looking right at her. She felt drawn to him, but the fear would not leave her.
It was Viflyanka fretting and stamping that gave her a voice.
“Wolf!” she cried. “In the woods!”
Why weren’t they running? Why were Ivan and the princess just staring at her like that?
The princess’s face beneath her mink turban didn’t show any surprise, any fear. She shook her head.
“No, Sophie.”
“Yes! I saw it!” She struggled to sit up, looked again into the trees. There was nothing there.
“Inside!” roared Ivan.
“But Ivan!” The princess shook her arm from Ivan’s grip. “You know there’s nothing in the woods! We have them all.” But when she couldn’t free her arm from Ivan’s hand, she said, looking uneasy, “Don’t we?”
They half skated, half stumbled back to the temple, Ivan striding to the vozok. He pulled out a hunting rifle.
“Get inside!”
“But Viflyanka!” Sophie yelled.
The princess shoved her in the back and she fell into the temple.
Marianne and Delphine, looking shocked, clung to each other. The princess took off her skates and paced the room. Sophie jumped when two cracks from the rifle split the air.
An instant later Ivan threw open the door. His fur hat had slipped back off his forehead. His face was white. “Nothing,” he said. But he was breathing heavily, and for the first time Sophie could see worry in his eyes.
The princess nodded. “I told you!” Then she pulled Sophie toward her. Her fingers dug into Sophie’s arm. “Don’t try that again.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve frightened your friends.” The princess spoke so quietly that Sophie had to strain to hear her. “There are no wolves. The wolves have been taken care of.”
“But I saw —”
“You saw nothing.”
They ate their picnic in silence in the temple: a loaf of fresh rye bread from a large embroidered napkin, bowls of pickles, and dishes of mushroom dumplings, which Ivan said were called pirozhki.
“We must go now,” announced the princess the moment they had finished. “I shall drive.”
The velvety denseness of the northern light had intensified in the time they had been inside. It made the silver birches stand out more clearly, and the stars appeared lower in the sky, touching the highest branches.
Ivan helped the girls into the vozok, then slipped the thick blanket off Viflyanka’s stout body. The little black horse snorted his approval and swished his thick tail.
“Did you really see something in the woods, Sophie?” Marianne whispered. She looked around her, as if they might be surprised at any moment by a wolf leaping out from the trees. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost rather than a wolf.”
Sophie saw how frightened she was. “It was nothing,” she lied.
“Of course she didn’t see anything,” Delphine said. “She’s just the girl who cried wolf. No one will believe you next time, Sophie,” she laughed.
The bells jangled, the runners slid through the snow, and the princess turned the vozok toward the narrow path through the woods.
The moon had risen, but little could be seen of it through the black branches. Viflyanka trotted on smartly, his breathing regular. Sophie looked back at the little temple until she could no longer see it.
“We should not take this path,” Ivan said. He kept his hand on the rifle. “The path around the woods is safer.”
“You said there was nothing,” the princess said. “Or were you lying?”
“I would never lie to you, Princess,” Ivan said, but he looked uneasy.
“Remember what will happen if I can’t trust you, Ivan,” she hissed.
Then, realizing that Sophie was watching her, the princess changed her mood instantly.
“But see how well I am driving?” she teased.
“Or perhaps you think I am still driving too fast?” And she pulled on the reins and slowed Viflyanka to a walk.
It was over so quickly that Sophie wasn’t sure what she had just witnessed. Was the princess angry with Ivan? He didn’t seem to be untrustworthy; in fact, Sophie would have been glad to have Ivan if she had been a princess.
“I think we must keep moving in this part of the forest, Princess,” Ivan warned.
Sophie could not think of the wolf now. She sensed he was no longer nearby.
She felt the tears well up and blinked them back, forcing herself not to cry.
She had made a fool of herself in front of the one person that mattered.
She had been offered a chance of magic, beauty, friendship, and, like the idiot she was, she had ruined it.
The princess didn’t want to know about wolves in her forest. Of course she didn’t.
It was all very well having wolves on your cutlery, but that didn’t mean she wanted them around the palace.
They were dangerous, wild animals that would rip out her throat if given the chance.
Sophie watched the trees slip past and felt miserable. Would she ever regain the princess’s good opinion?
The princess drove them to the front of the palace. Dmitri was waiting under the portico. He looked cold and wretched, not like he had in the forest; Sophie felt sorry for him. He stepped forward to take Viflyanka’s bridle, without looking at anyone.
The princess, stepping down, stared at the boy.
She walked around and spoke to him quietly.
The girls watched as Ivan got down. The princess appeared to be explaining a problem to Ivan and the three of them spoke in short, intense sentences.
The princess looked angry, although she didn’t shout.
The boy, who at first spoke forcefully, fell silent and sullen.
“He must have done something wrong,” Marianne commented, still under the furs.
It looked that way. But what? thought Sophie. What could Dmitri possibly have done?