The Ice Storm

Chapter Eighteen

"How much further Yacobe?" Virginia asked, yawning and rubbing her sore back. She had lost count of the number of actual days she'd been on this enforced jaunt through the countryside. As she watched the tall half-wolf finishing the construction of their snow cave shelter, she fully expected to have him grunt aside her question as he had done all others. A thin branch poked up through the snow near where she was standing. It looked spindly, but if she was lucky enough it might deal him a sufficient blow that she might escape. But then she looked out into the barren wilderness. She wouldn't last a day out here alone. It irked her, but it was true. The alternative, however, was as equally bleak. She could go with the ghost wolf to wherever he wanted to take her, but then what? Just let them steal her baby? Virginia didn't quite believe his assurances that they would not seperate her from her new daughter. And what of Wolf and Caelum? Would they too be dragged here all on account of some superstitious nonsense that the wolfs of this region had decided to believe?

What was it exactly that they thought she was bearing? Her daughter twisted and kicked within her as if to say she too was ignorant. There was one small hope though, Virginia knew. If, when the time came she delivered what appeared to be a normal quarter-wolf cub, with no magical or unusual skills, then perhaps they would let them go.

Moonshadow child. The name seemed to whisper on the cold wind. The cub grew still as if listening. Virginia shivered inwardly, pushing forward into the shelter, feeling like she needed to escape the attentions of the world.

Later, when the small fire had warmed the cave and her fingers were beginning to thaw, Yacobe answered her first question.

"Perhaps another three days. We are having to go around about a ways to avoid the Ice Palace, and my people will certainly have moved since I last saw them"

"Your clan move around so much, even in winter?"

"Not usually. But this year things are different. Several of our young males have made their way to the city to join with the army, no doubt, and the rest...well, if they haven't heard of it yet, will soon learn of my betrayal. We have a number of secret places where we can hide in safety"

"There's no such thing as 'hide in safety', Yacobe. Hiding is hiding. I thought you said I would be safe with your people. If the Ice Queen is going to be hunting us..."

"She's been hunting you since the beginning of the year, Virginia. It was she and her 'daughter' who set out to turn the spell. They saw that the monster-wolf's curse could so easily be thwarted to cause you mortal harm". His voice was toneless, but Virginia still felt a pang of dismay at how much she had been manouevred.

"Why me?" she asked bleakly.

"You were the most obvious target Neva could think of. You were, and still are, on the cusp of gaining great power and the ability to lead. You aren't from the Kingdoms, where folk have grown easy and soft and indecisive. Neva feared you, and rightly so, I think. So when an opportunity to strike first came about..."

"She's got it all wrong. I don't have any magical powers. I wouldn't use them even if I did. Aren't you forgetting who my mother was, and what harm she caused? She was evil. It's hard to say that of your own mother, but she was. I couldn't be trusted with any power and the people would be fools to give it to me. Besides, whatever 'power' I gained when the werewolf touched me, I gave away. I gave it all away, because I saw what manner of creature I would become"

"Yes. Your decision to give up the strength has kept Neva and Rhoswen awake many a night since. They could not fathom why you would do so, even though they realised how close they had come to engineering their own demise. They did not expect you to survive the attack, much less walk away with a lethal power hidden in your veins"

"But if they know I gave it up, why still pursue me? What threat am I to Neva now?" Virginia asked, happy that for once the silent Yacobe was prepared to talk freely with her, despite the topics. The ghost wolf pursed his lips together, as if debating with himself.

"It's not Neva, but Rhoswen, Virginia. I doubt even if the Ice Queen is aware of what her 'daughter' has planned"

"Are they at war with each other?"

"No, not at all. But Rhoswen, the Princess, she is much more than Neva suspects, I think. Neva is old, but she still commands the loyalty of the people. Rhoswen is young, strong, and she has learned well the secrets of this land. She has studied the histories and stories, listened to the legends and prophecies. She has put the pieces together. I suppose I am to blame in a way, since Neva gave to me the task of educating the little girl. It was I who taught to her the old ways, and this she has combined with her damnable source of sight..." he growled deep in his throat, a particular tone that Virginia realised as disgust, "and now she has seen you as I have seen you. She knows about the cub you carry. She knows that the people have long waited for such a one as this".

Virginia's mouth felt as dry as ashes. "What, what has she seen?" she managed to stammer. Yacobe stared at her curiously, before he sighed as if admitting that his prisoner might well be as ignorant as she claimed.

"Lucine's Mark, Virginia" he said gently, as if prompting her to remember. Virginia shook her head in confusion.

"What mark, where?" she demanded. In answer, he reached forward to touch her lightly between the brows. The spot tingled as he withdrew his hand. Virginia had a vague memory of the Goddess of the Moon kissing her in the cavern of Coventina after they had cured her of the werewolf touch. We were unable to remove the taint from the child. Ah, Lucine, what have you done? She wanted to scream it, but it echoed in her mind. Dimly, she was aware of Yacobe speaking to her.

"Surely you have seen it? In the magic mirrors where truth is revealed, can you not see it?" he said.

"No. I don't like mirrors, especially magic ones. I've haven't looked into one for months now, save the Travelling Mirror". Inwardly, Virginia cursed herself. How many times have I stood in that room staring only at the velvet? Perhaps if I had looked, maybe I would have been able to see this coming. But I thought that Coventina had shown me all that I needed to know. "What would I have seen, Yacobe?" she continued with a sinking feeling of dread.

"Lucine has marked you, Virginia. As clear as day it is to me. I cannot believe your mate has not said anything about it. But regardless, it is there, and for a mortal human woman from outside the world of our Kingdoms to receive such a mark, well, perhaps one day soon you will understand why you, and your daughter are so much desired by so many"

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"Raise the army! Bring them together" Wendell almost shouted. His steaming horse stood straddle legged in the courtyard. All about, guards scurried and pages ran messages, and he realised belatedly that they had been out all night searching for him. His castellan Rupert looked such a mixture of emotions; fear, that his most important charge had been missing, and indignation that same charge had insolently reappeared the next morning without a scratch, that Wendell feared the man would faint. Or start yelling at him. Wendell was the King, but Rupert had known him longer than that, and Wendell rightly feared the man's displeasure. Briefly he wondered what it was like to be a servant of himself. What did they think of him, really? Did they laugh behind their hands at the foppish, soft skinned and unworldly young man? Did they compare him to his exulted parents and the immortal Snow-white, and find him lacking?

These were not new questions. He had been plagued with them from childhood, but today, as he stood muddied and exhausted on the steps of his own castle, Wendell found that he was no longer troubled by them. He stared up at the turrets weighed down with icicles, the banners long since torn down for blankets, the windows boarded up as the ice shattered them one by one. Behind him, he was vaguely aware of Tony talking to Rupert, giving some explanation or other of where they had been all night. Chasing down old enemies and using their old magics, Wendell thought to himself. The image of Scarlett once more flashed before him. It hadn't happened, he knew it instinctively. And it would never happen, she would never plummet from the sky if he had anything to do with it.

But where? Where in the world would he start now? The dull logistics didn't quite dampen his new found courage and daring. Someone was tapping his shoulder. Only Rupert would be so bold, he knew. His friends face was pinched, and whatever thoughts floated through his mind he kept well hidden now, as a well trained courtier would.

"The army is scattered, Wendell" he said softly. "You know this. We've been sending them out to keep the peace in the villages, to make sure what food is left is shared equitably. They're keeping our people alive, my King"

"No. What's keeping our people alive is the fact that that damnable woman up there", he gesticulated towards the north, "hasn't even begun to throw her weight against us. Whatever evil spell she has concocted has yet to be fulfilled. Mid-winter, that's what she told us, mid-winter. A single week away, my friend, and no amount of sword and spear will hold back that tide of death". Wendell's voice rose as he spoke. Passing servants heard his words, slowed their steps.

"Why then call up the army?"

"I am going there. To the Eigth Kingdom" Wendell thundered, knowing his destination now at the moment he spoke it. To Ruperts shocked face, he now spoke more softly, wanting to let his oldest friend know that his sovereign hadn't gone truly mad. "It's the only chance we have. If we can't undo or turn this winter-spell, then lets try and undo she who cast it"

"You want to march into the Eight Kingdom and kill the Ice Queen"

"Yes"

"What if it backfires? The spell I mean. What if even with her death it cannot be undone?"

"Then at least she will not have the pleasure of riding over our frozen bones"

"But...we could surrender. We could give in to her demands for now. Live to fight another day, maybe" Rupert stammered, the words awkward on his tongue. Wendell smiled in acknowledgement.

"No, Rupert. You can barely say the words, let alone I complete them. Giving in to evil is never the right ending to any story in this land. The Ice Queen knows this as well. She knows we will fight for our happiness, but she expects to have to ride out to take it from us". Wendell watched his castellan's face, unaware of holding his breath as he waited for the outburst, the denials, the refusal. But Rupert's eyes crinkled in thought, and something else that Wendell had never seen. A certain respect, the look of someone who has spent their whole lives in service to someone who has unexpectedly shown a sudden promise at the most unexpected time. Their smiles met and matched amid the snow and destruction.

"So, we march to the death of the Ice Queen" Rupert intoned, already scratching his head in that way that Wendell recognized as his trying to figure out the whats and wheres of a situation. Wendell left him to do it, knowing the man was a master of organisation. Ahead of him, as he climbed the stairs to his front door, whispers floated. Grimy, worn down faces of his folk met him, crowded even now as they were in the entrance hall. The warmed air that came from the strange devices that Tony had procured was comforting, but Wendell knew now, just as his people did, that one day soon that odd magic would not be enough.

"Are you going to help us?" murmured one old crone, her feet wrapped in what looked like one of his old robes of state.

"Yes. Or at the very least, I'm going to give it a damn good try!" Wendell smiled grimly at her as he made his way through them towards his rooms. Behind him he heard more whispers, and under it a subdued current of good humour, the first in many weeks to grace the big Castle White.

And then, when all that was done with, he thought to himself, well, then he would be able to catch his love, his Scarlett, from wherever she fell. She would understand.

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It was a dull sound. Far away, but not so far, not really. A scratching sound. But it was more a question of time rather than space now, she knew. The sting pierced her breast, throbbing, pushing, insistant. The thing so enspelled to keep going, always flying or floating or whatever, until it reached the heart of a living creature. Any heart would do.

Such a pity that she had only just remembered that she was a living creature.