House of Winter

Chapter 43

Ari gripped onto Warrah with every ounce of strength she had, and urged the dragon onwards. If they could make it past the blockade of fire, they could make it to Tai. Tai was the one they needed to stop, Ari knew. She had seen it. Virani's power came from Tai's surge. She may have that necklace around her neck that gave her magic to wield - magic that didn't belong to her, like water magic from Vastier - but without Tai's surge, she wasn't strong enough to use it. Stop Tai, and they could stop Virani.

Warrah shot another blast of water and suddenly there was a gap in the fire. The dragon slipped through it, a snake through the hole in the fire soldier's defenses, until he was almost on top of Tai.

"You tortured this dragon," Ari cried out. "He knows that now, Tai. He knows it's not air starrlings he should fear, but you."

Tai was so focused on channelling his surge of power towards his aunt, that he barely registered Ari and Warrah advancing.

Ari felt the anger of the dragon, and it matched her own anger. Everything Tai had done had brought them to this point. She wanted to end it now.

Warrah sent a blast of his water magic towards Tai, and Tai's tiger Yainni blocked with fire. The force was so strong that Warrah was knocked backwards. Ari screamed as she fell from the dragon's back. In an instant, she felt her back slam into the snow, knocking the breath from her lungs.

She gasped for breath, staring up at a terrifying mix of wolf legs and tiger legs standing over her. She could feel her heart beating in her skull, and she realised she must have hit her head. She was going to die here, on the cold ground in some foreign land, where she might never find her way back to her ancestors.

A pale hand, through the flurry of ice and fire, and Ari reached to it. The palm was cool in her hand, but the grip was strong. She gasped as her arm was yanked upwards and her body followed unwillingly, like a doll on a string.

She found herself on the back of a wolf, with Sanna's hair in her face.

"No need for a thank you," Sanna said, voice cool as ever. "I only saved your life."

Ari could still hardly breathe, let alone talk. "Not the first time," she choked out.

"Repay the favour, one day," Sanna said. She swung Sigrun around, and then they were back in the fire and ice and out again, Ari blinking through the smoke and the snow.

"Look," Sanna said, pointing.

Ari looked, blinking to see the golden light on the horizon. Daylight.

Except it was already daytime, and that was the wrong horizon.

"Light lions," Sanna said. "The Lombardians have come to stand behind their new prince."

Ari let out a choking gasp, seeing the lions.

She clutched her head, blinking her eyes against the smoke, and remembered. The lions had come for her, after the midwinter championship. They had beaten her down, hurt her beyond anything she could have imagined. Just the memory of it made her heart race.

"Not the lions," Ari said.

"They're on our side, Ari," Sanna said.

"No, not the lions," Ari cried out.

Sanna sighed. "Sigrun, to the palace."

Sigrun turned sharply, and Ari had to grip onto Sanna to stop from falling free. Ari lowered her head against the snow, trying to stop it from coming into her face, while Sanna remained blissfully untouched, her subtle ice magic enough to keep snow from flying into her face.

They reached the palace, and Sigrun climbed the stairs in bounds.

Where before the palace had been awash with activity - ord servants running in every direction carrying every precious heirloom - now it was a ghostly silent, with the only sound the wailing storm outside. The walls were empty, stripped bare, and even the rugs and tapestries were gone. It was eerily quiet once they were inside.

Ari pulled herself from Sigrun's back, and Sanna dismounted neatly. The taller girl brushed Ari's shoulders, and her hand grazed across Ari's short curls, dusting off the rest of the snow.

"You're okay?" Sanna asked.

Ari swallowed, unsure how to answer that. Her panic just at seeing the lions of the King's Garde was more than she had expected. Even now, her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she felt like she needed to escape. But she forced the feeling down, away. She would not let her fear overtake her.

"Your parents," Ari said, trying to get her mind off the lions.

Sanna lowered her gaze, and looked at her hands. "I know," she murmured.

Ari took Sanna's hand. "You're not them, Sanna," she said fiercely.

Sanna looked up, and her dark eyes seemed to shimmer, and then tears burst across her lower lashes.

When a tear rolled down Sanna's cheek, Ari brushed her thumb across it, brushing the tear away.

Whether Sanna leaned down first or Ari raised herself higher, she would never be sure. But when their lips met, it felt as soft as morning snow. Ari could feel Sanna's choked sob and then half laugh in her own mouth, her smile against her own lips, as they kissed and then both laughed in embarrassed surprise.

A noise made them break apart, and they stared up the empty hallway, suddenly tense, waiting for a new battle.

Sigrun was standing defensively, her ears back, and Sanna touched her hand to her wolf's shoulder.

"What is it?" Ari whispered.

"This way," Sanna murmured, and the two of them and the wolf kept as silent as they could while they turned the corner of the hall, and stopped outside another empty drawing room.

Ari felt a pang in her stomach, realising what she was seeing.

Lisbet Koningssen, Queen of Norrlund, stood alone in the room, staring at one single portrait that had been left behind. Instead of hanging on the wall, the portrait was now leaning against a fireplace, as if one of the servants had meant to carry it away but had been distracted halfway through the task.

The portrait depicted Queen Lisbet, in a huge royal white fur cloak, beautifully decorated. Behind her, a white wolf stood proudly. Before her, on one knee, was the painted image of Osvald van Dael, the queen's husband. He bowed before his queen. Ari realised this painting must have been made to depict the moment they had married, and she had granted him the title of Duke.

Lisbet took a shaky breath, looking at the portrait, and then a dagger of ice appeared in her palm, like magic. Without hesitation, she slashed the ice dagger through the painting. Not only did the canvas tear, but she also broke the frame clean.

Lisbet dropped the dagger to the floor and turned away. As she did, she saw Sanna and Ari, standing there.

"Sanna," Lisbet called out, smiling. "My dau-"

She didn't finish the word.

Osvald van Dael had taken the ice dagger from where it had landed, and he stabbed it through his wife's back, before she even knew he was in the room.

"NO!" Sanna screamed out.

Queen Lisbet crumpled. Osvald drew the dagger and looked at his daughter. "Join me, Sanna."

"No!" Sanna cried. She ran to Lisbet, crouching over her.

Ari desperately tried to wield some sort of magic, to stop Osvald, anything, but before she could, he had escaped from the room through the same doorway he had appeared through. He disappeared, and Ari was half tempted to follow him, but then she turned back to see Sanna bent over Lisbet's body.

"No, no, no," Sanna was saying, over and over. "No, please, no, wake up, please, tell me, I would be your daughter, please, no."

Ari kneeled down and put her arm around Sanna and felt her body heave with sobs. On the floor, Lisbet lay staring up at the beautiful fresco on the ceiling, unseeing. Her wolf let out a chilling howl.