Chapter 4
We stand at the river’s edge, the biting cold of early evening sinking deep into my bones. The pain from my fall has faded with every stubborn, careful step I have taken.
Magnus and I look back at Isthyr. The last of the red light is fading now, and the city has become little more than black silhouettes against a deep indigo sky.
My potential grandfather’s gaze has shifted from me to the figure at my side, taking in Fen’s ringed eyes.
‘You are bonded to a dire wolf,’ he notes.
‘Yes,’ I admit. ‘Though the bond is new.’
‘Your wolf wishes to join us?’ Magnus asks.
‘That won’t be a problem, will it?’
‘He will not be able to enter the Veil with you, but he can come with us over the river.’
The single word is all it takes to feel the rumble of apprehension through my bond. Fen’s not fond of rivers.
There is no bridge, Little Raven. Surely, they cannot imagine we will walk through the water?
Don’t worry, I’ll go alone if that’s what we have to do.
There’s no way I’m going to make Fen face wading through the deep rushing water of a river. Not when we first found him stuck in the quagmire of the Taron River, only hours from death.
His conflict ebbs through to me, his desperation not to leave me warring with his fear of the cold waters. But before I can reassure him, Magnus takes another step towards the river, and with barely a flicker of his hand, a bridge appears.
‘You are welcome to use my crossing or create your own, if you prefer,’ he tells me.
‘Make my own?’ The comment comes out more like a scoff than I’d intended. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to start.’
‘Then I will leave this one up so you can cross to the sacred lands whenever you wish. The ice will not waver or melt, not until you are ready to build your own.’
I nearly laugh at the idea that I could one day feel secure enough in my Issen magic to construct a bridge of ice that would hold my weight.
But then the import of his words hits me.
The way he spoke … it’s as though he believes that I’ll come back this way again and have more opportunities to cross the river.
And that can only happen if I survive the Veil.
It is surprisingly comforting to know that he truly believes I can do this. Truly believes we are kin.
As I walk to the icy structure and step over the crystal-clear water, Fen’s spike of fear strikes me again.
I don’t mind if you want to run ahead. Get this bridge done as quickly as possible, I tell my bonded.
His voice comes back with a huff. I do not know what you are implying, Little Raven. Yet his body presses up against my legs as he walks, his pace far quicker than I would choose to traverse the clear bridge. When we reach the other side, his exhale is heavy enough to heat my skin.
Perhaps if you learn such a magic, you will consider not making them so very clear, Fen suggests. It is mildly disconcerting.
I’ll do my best, I respond, burying my hands within his soft fur to offer the gentle reassurance we both need right now. It’s not just my death that we face. Inextricably linked as we are, if I die, so does Fen.
Rivers and death. I’m making poor Fen face all of his fears tonight.
As I draw in a lungful of air, a tingle runs down my spine.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I swear there is something different about this land.
A deeper clarity in the air. A softness in the ebb of the breeze.
Something ineffable yet utterly other. It’s tempting to stand there, to merely breathe it in, but Magnus is already striding ahead.
‘So this Veil…’ I ask when I catch up with him. ‘Can you tell me what it is exactly?’
Even as I walk, I glance behind me, checking that the others are still there, still safe. There are no forks of lightning flashing across the sky and no peridot clouds, so Kyor is not getting defensive.
Of course, it could be that his powers are still not working. The thought alone makes me feel nauseous.
‘Toren will ensure that nothing happens to your friends,’ Magnus says, responding to my gaze rather than my verbal question.
‘At least until I’ve been through the Veil.’
My words are bitter, but he dips his chin slowly in a nod. I’m sure the gesture is meant to comfort me, but it doesn’t. Instead, the sickening feeling only deepens.
‘It’s not enough,’ I tell him, my pace slowing.
‘What do you mean?’
My jaw works back and forth as I try to fit the words together. I don’t want to anger the king – the king who thinks I’m his granddaughter – but at this point, what’s the worst thing that could happen? He’d kill me?
Right now, the odds of my surviving the Veil feel less than fifty-fifty.
Sure, this lost princess thing is definitely something, and I think Magnus truly believes it to be me, but perhaps that’s just because he wants to believe it.
He wouldn’t be the only person who has been separated from his family and spends his days dreaming of a reunion. I know that daydream well myself.
And sure, I felt the way my ring urged me here – urged me to find Isthyr, guided me to and through the pyrrhic – but who’s to say it wouldn’t do that to any wearer?
I have no idea where my mother found it.
Whether it was an heirloom, a gift, or perhaps even just an item of jewellery that she found lying on the street.
No, regardless of Magnus and Toren’s confidence, it’s not enough to stake my life on – and certainly not enough to stake my friends’ lives on.
‘I will do the Veil,’ I say to Magnus. ‘Just as you’ve asked. Whatever that is, whatever it costs me, I will do it freely, but only if you promise me that my friends will be allowed to leave Isthyr safely if I’m not … accepted.’
He purses his lips slightly. ‘Rose, that is not how it works. You have no choice. By the laws of our people, if you do not go through it, then you will be stripped of your magic, and then your life. It will be agonising as your very being is pulled from you piece by piece.’
Gods, Magnus, don’t beat around the bush so much, Fen gripes.
I ignore him, my heart thundering as I chew the inside of my cheek.
‘So I’ll perish,’ I reply slowly, ‘but my companions don’t need to. I need a promise. I need you to swear on Oel or Aitara and whatever Gods or laws of this place you hold sacred. I need you to promise me that you will release them. That is the only way I’ll go through it.’
Magnus’s eyes glance back across the river to where my friends stand. We’ve walked further than I’d realised, and they now stand only matchstick high. It’s far too far away to see that icy blueness in Kyor’s gaze, though I like to imagine it’s still locked solely on me.
If he does not agree to let the others live, and you then die, I will rip out his throat before my strength wanes, Fen promises darkly. At least that way Elska and Kyor will stand a better chance.
I’m not sure that will truly help them, but thank you for offering, I tell him. Let me try one more time to get his agreement.
‘Please, Magnus,’ I press. ‘Please.’
His shoulders rise up with an inhale, only to drop again as he speaks. ‘A promise is not needed. You will be accepted,’ he says firmly.
‘That is not an assurance,’ I tell him. ‘And I will not step through the Veil without it. Promise me that my friends – and their wolf – will leave here unharmed.’
Only one wolf. The fact Fen survived one bond death is a miracle. I’m not fool enough to expect a second, but Gods help me, I pray for it all the same.
It will be an honour to die with you, Little Raven, he says gruffly in my mind. However much time I have had with you has been my greatest honour.
My attention remains fixed on Magnus as he draws in a long breath, then releases it slowly as a sigh.
‘Stubborn, just like your grandmother,’ he mutters, although whether the words are a compliment or not, I’m unable to tell. Finally, his gaze meets mine. ‘You have my word. Your friends and their wolf will leave Isthyr unharmed, if that is what they choose.’
It feels like a strange caveat to place, though perhaps he’s referring to them fighting back.
After all, I can’t imagine Kyor letting Ranveeg remain standing if her actions ultimately lead to my death, but at least there’s hope.
And Ruben and Caz will get back to William.
To Kay. There’s a chance they’ll be able to keep my family safe.
It’s only when I notice how far ahead of me Magnus now is that I realise I’ve stopped and am once again staring across the river at the blurred shadows I know hide my friends’ silhouettes. After a beat, I quicken my step to catch up with him.
‘What can you tell me about the Veil?’ I ask Magnus as I reach him. ‘How will it prove I’m the princess, as you and Toren believe? What is it exactly?’
Magnus’s eyes remain forward.
‘It is everything,’ he says unhelpfully.
‘It is a gift from the Gods to protect you, and it will both test and reward you. It will break you apart to rebuild you stronger and more formidable than you could ever dream. It will challenge you to look into the parts of yourself that you have refused to see.’
I’ve already lived through a damned Retterheld, and not much more can break me like the deaths I saw and inflicted there.
In my mind’s eye, I see my best friend Llinos taking her last breath.
‘I’ll be honest, that doesn’t sound very appealing.’
‘No,’ he says solemnly. ‘I suppose it does not, but in answer to your other question, being accepted by the Veil is the highest accolade for any Issen,’ he says.
‘Only one person is accepted in each full rotation of the sun. Three moons ago, another was accepted. No one else should be able to enter for nine more moons … unless they are an heir to the throne. Heirs can be accepted at any point in the rotation. That is how we will know.’
‘So the Veil is a lovely, high accolade … that can kill you?’