Something was watching her from the woods.
Kelda sat up straighter and peered into the branches, frowning. There was something there, she thought, some kind of animal she'd never seen before. She crept closer towards the pines, straining to see beneath the dark boughs-
"'Hey, Kelda!"
She whirled around with a start. Jek waved a mittened hand, beckoning her over. The other village children clustered around him, chattering excitedly, cheeks red from the cold.
"We're going to see the wolf the hunters caught!" He exclaimed. "You coming or not?"
"Sure," she said distractedly, with one last look at the woods. "Sure, I'm coming. They got the one that was killing all the seal pups and scaring the caribou?"
"Sure did. I hear he's a big brute, with teeth as long as your fingers, all covered in blood! The grownups say they're gonna sacrifice him at the Midwinter's eve party, make a nice cloak for my mom."
"What does she need with a new cloak?" Kelda asked, scrunching up her nose. "She's got a new one every week!"
"Eh, women, I guess," Jek said sagely.
Kelda gave him an arch look.
"What do you know about women, Jek? You're barely even a year older than me."
"I know what my dad says, and my dad's the mayor. That means he's always right."
"Ugh, whatever you say, Jek. Let's just go see this wolf of yours."
Jek led the posse of boisterous children to the center of town. Kelda followed at a slower pace, felt the back of her neck tingling as if someone were standing behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw nothing. She shivered, rubbing her shoulders, and then ran to join the other children.
A mangy, ancient wolf lay despondently in the center of an iron cage in the town square, ribs straining painfully at its skin. It was covered in old scars and open wounds, and one amber eye was swollen shut. It looked up at her as she walked to the bars and met her gaze, struggling to rise from bloodied straw.
"Kelda, get away from that thing!" A heavy hand descended on her shoulder and yanked her unceremoniously back. "Do you want to get bit?"
"No, Dad," she mumbled.
"Speak up, girl, I can't hear you." He squinted down at her, swaying slightly. She could smell the moonshine on his breath from where she stood.
"I said, no sir."
"Good girl." Her father put his hands on his hips and grinned at the assembled children. "So, you kids like my wolf, huh? I caught the fellow myself! He put up a real fight!"
"I'm sure he did," Jek said, all mock innocence. "You're real lucky you didn't get hurt."
"Sure, I am, boy!" Kelda's father said, proudly oblivious.
"Must have been a real battle."
"Jek, piss off," Kelda snapped.
"Language, Kelda. What would your blessed mother think?"
"Yes, Kelda, what would your mother think?" Jek asked.
"You shut up," she snarled, hurling herself at him.
They crashed against the bars of the cage, and the wolf struggled to its feet, growling. Jek scurried away with a squeak. Kelda rose, shaking off snow, and made to stalk after him. Her father grabbed clumsily hold of her arm, hard enough to make her gasp, and glared down at her.
"Kelda!" he shouted. "Gods damn it, Kelda, what's wrong with you?"
The wolf was struggling to its feet now, lunging at the bars and snapping.
"What's wrong with it?" Jek cried fearfully. "It's going crazy!"
"Get away from it, Kelda," her father said, hefting his spear.
"Leave it alone! It's just an old wolf that hasn't done anything wrong!"
"It's a menace, and we have to kill it."
"Tovold? What's going on here?"
A tall, thin man with a receding hairline strode into the square. Kelda's father straightened, tugging at his parka.
"Afternoon, mayor. Just showing my daughter and her friends this here wolf I caught."
"Daaaad!" Jek ran up to his father, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Dad, Kelda hit me!"
"He was talking about my mom!" Kelda retorted.
"Ahh, Jek, Jek, Jek." The mayor shook his head, drawing himself up to his full height. "We really should try to be kind to those less fortunate than ourselves, now, shouldn't we?"
"Yessir," Jek said begrudgingly.
"Kelda can't help it that the gods took her mother after she birthed her, and her father can't help his little drinking habit."
"I'm right here, you know," Kelda muttered.
"Yes you are, darling, aren't you?" The mayor ruffled her hair, and she ducked away with a scowl. "Now, no more fighting, hmm? It isn't the proper thing for girls to do." He beckoned to Kelda's father. "Tovold, come here. I have something I need to talk to you about."
Her father trotted after him, obedient as a dog. Jek folded his arm and glared at her.
"You're trouble, Kelda. Women always are."
She opened her mouth to retort as one of the other boys elbowed Jek in the ribs.
"Hey, Jek. Look who showed up for the show."
Jek turned and scowled.
"Ugh. Yuck. It's that spooky witch-boy."
A small figure stood at the edge of the square, watching them from beneath the shadows of a fur-lined hood, silent and unmoving. The children bunched together, muttering to each other.
"He's so weird," a girl stage-whispered. "I mean...what even is he? Ew!"
"I heard his mother was an elf."
"I heard she was a troll!"
"Yuck!"
"Hey, witch-boy!" Jek swaggered forward. "I thought I told you not to come around here anymore. Your kind ain't welcome here."
The witch boy took a step forward, and Jek took a step back, looked around at his friends, and rallied.
"Huh, look at you, you freak. What are you doing out here? You think you're a person? Get out of here! You're not a person, you're- you're a thing!"
"And you're an idiot," Kelda snapped. "He's got just as much right to be here as you do."
"No he don't! My dad's the mayor, and he doesn't even have a dad, or a mom, either. He doesn't even have a name!"
"What's he ever done to you? Leave him alone!"
"What's it to you? You some kind of witch-lover?" Jek looked over his shoulder. "Hey, witch boy, I think we found you a girlfrie- hey, where'd he go?"
"You scared him off, Jek."
"You bet I did." Jek glared at Kelda. "We'll deal with you later. You better keep out of our way, or you'll be sorry."
She made a face at his retreating back and sat down next to the cage, staring at the wolf. She sighed, resting her chin on her mittened hands.
"Poor old thing," she said softly. "You look hungry." She felt around in her pocket, pulled out a length of seal jerky. "Here, I bet nobody's even fed you."
The wolf licked up the jerky and looked up expectantly, red tongue lolling.
"That's all I've got, sorry.
"Kelda!"
"Coming, Dad!" She turned back to the wolf. "That's my dad calling me. I...I'll come back later with something to eat."
She scampered away into the falling snow.
Later that night, after Tovold had drunken himself into a stupor, she slipped out of the ramshackle little house with a caribou haunch tucked under her parka. She crept into the village square, hiding in the shadows from the torchlight.
"Hey, it's me!" she whispered.
The wolf looked up at the sound of her voice and whined. She crept nervously towards the cage and held out the haunch. The wolf sniffed it hesitantly.
"It's okay," she whispered. "Go on, you can take it."
The wolf looked into her eyes, and then pulled the leg from her hands with a sharp tug and dragged it into the corner of the cage. She sat on her haunches, watching it.
"You poor old thing," she said. "It isn't right, keeping you in a cage like this, even if you are a seal-killer."
She heard boots crunch on the snow behind her and started around with a squeak. The witch boy cocked his head, studying her.
"Oh, it's you," Kelda said, relaxing. "Did you come to look at the wolf, too?"
He sat next to her, silent.
"I've been feeding him," Kelda confessed. "I know I shouldn't, my dad would have a fit, but I just feel so sorry for him, stuck in there. Poor thing."
"Like you feel sorry for me?"
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, taken aback by the bitterness in his voice.
"I don't feel sorry for you," she said tentatively. "I mean, I'm sorry for how the other kids treat you, sure, but they're just stupid. They don't matter, not to me."
"They'd like you better if you joined them, you know."
"No, they wouldn't. I don't have a mom, either, remember? And my dad's not much better. Besides." She made a spitting motion. "They're a bunch of cowards. Remember that time I wanted to go out on the ice to look at that shipwreck, the one with all the bodies? Nobody'd come out there with me but you."
The wolf whined and dragged itself closer. The witch boy leaned forward, curious, and touched its fur through the bars. It sighed and leaned against his hand.
"Oh, wow, he really likes you!" Kelda exclaimed. "Do you...do you think he'd let me pet him?"
The witch boy just shrugged. Kelda put out a tentative hand and stroked its flank. Beneath the coarse guard fur, it was surprisingly soft. The wolf heaved a weary sigh and closed its amber eye.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?"
The witch boy shrugged again.
"D'you remember your mum at all?"
"Barely. I just remember she seemed sad a lot. I can't hardly remember what she looked like."
"Was she human?"
"She wasn't a troll, if that's what you mean!"
"I was just asking, is all! Come on, you know I didn't mean anything by it."
"I think she must have been human, from what I can remember, but I don't know." He glared at the snow. "Who cares about that lousy bitch, anyway? She weren't a proper mother Proper mothers don't leave their sons out in the snow."
"What about your dad?"
"I never met him."
"I wish I could remember my mom. She died having me. Now all I've got's my lousy drunk dad. He does his best by me, but he says he drinks all the time 'cause he misses her." She swiped at her cheeks, embarrassed. "Hey, do you think you look like him?"
"Who, your dad?"
"No, yours, silly!" She punched him in the shoulder. "I've known you since you first showed up here, and I've never even seen what you look like!"
He hunched his shoulders, looking away.
"Eh."
"Come on, I'm curious! You wear that stupid scarf all the time, I've hardly seen you indoors, even."
"Hey, you gave me this stupid scarf, remember?"
"Please?"
"No."
"Coooome on, I just wanna know! I don't care if you have snaggly teeth or a pug nose or even if you're covered in pox, you're my friend, and I want to know what you look like, you dummy!"
"Ugh. Fiiiiine."
He yanked the scarf down and glared at her. She gaped, open-mouthed at the strange whirling marks that lined his cheekbones, curled around his mouth and over his chin.
"Oh, wow. You...you really are strange, aren't you?"
He pulled the scarf back up and stood, scowling.
"Thanks, Kelda. I know I'm ugly."
"What? No, you're not ugly, just...just different, that's all." She tugged at his hand. "You look...er...nice."
"Nice?" he asked skeptically.
"Well, er, not nice, I mean- er, what I mean to say is, well, I like it. I like you. I mean-"
The wolf whimpered. Kelda rubbed her flaming cheeks.
"Anyways, you're not ugly," she muttered.
He sat down beside her and studied her.
"You're not ugly, either," he declared.
"Gee, thanks."
"Hey." He nudged her elbow. "Do you wanna see something really amazing?"
"Like what?"
"Look."
He closed a gloved hand tight, opened to reveal a small bloom of crackling blue flame. She gasped, grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand closer.
"What is it? How are you-"
"It's magic." He closed his hand, and the flame vanished.
"How long have you been able to do that?" she asked, turning his hand over and back again, incredulous.
"I've always been able to do it, but I haven't been able to control it much until now." He rubbed his bare shoulders self-consciously "I feel like I've been asleep for a long time...and now, finally, something inside me is starting to wake up."
She shivered. The wolf looked up an let out a mournful howl, then dropped its head to its paws, whining.
"Poor old thing," she said. "He shouldn't be trapped in a cage like that. It isn't fair."
The wolf huffed and settled down to gnaw on the bone. Kelda rose into a crouch, looking up at the village walls. The guards were nowhere to be seen- on a night this cold, they would probably all be indoors, drinking mulled wine. The gates were open a crack, wide enough to let any straggling hunters or seal shepherds through.
"Right," she whispered. "I'm letting him go." She strained against the bolt. "Come on, help me!"
He shrugged and rose to join her. The bolt slid back with a loud clank, and the door creaked open with a shriek of rust. She gasped, and he pulled her back into the shadows.
"Shhh!"
They held their breath, listening. The snowy silence remained undisturbed. In the cage, the wolf rose to its feet with a questioning rumble.
"Go on," Kelda whispered. "Hurry."
The wolf limped from the cage, carrying the haunch in its mouth. It stopped once, looking back at them.
"Go, run!" she whispered again.
The wolf shook itself and limped swiftly through the gates and into the night. Kelda let out a shuddering sigh.
"Gods! I thought for sure we'd be caught!" She looked around, biting her lip. "I'd better get home before my dad wakes up and wonders where I've gone." She reached out and squeezed his hand, blushed, and pulled away. "Goodnight, witch boy."
-x-
"Kelda!"
Her father shook her awake, out of a dream of wolves and ice and fire. She rubbed blearily at her eyes, disoriented.
"Dad? What? What's wrong?"
"Kelda, the wolf's gone! Somebody let it out last night. Where is the witch boy?"
"What?" She sat up, blinking sleepily.
"Come on, Kelda, I know you spend time with that creepy little brat, even though I've told you to stay away from him a thousand times. Where's he lurking?"
"Tovold, please, allow me." The mayor leaned over her father's shoulder and gave her a saccharine smile. "We just want to talk to your little friend, Kelda. Find out why he let the wolf out. Makes sure he knows that's not really the right thing to do."
"I...I don't know where he is!"
"Kelda," her father said warningly.
"It's true, dad, I don't!"
"Don't worry, father." Jek poked his head around the door and gave her a nasty grin. "I know where he likes to hide."
"Tell him I want to talk to him, Jek."
"Oh, trust me, dad, I'll do just that," he snickered, and raced away.
"Gods above." The mayor shook his head. "First there's all this talk of demons in the woods, and now the Midwinter sacrifice has escaped. What else could go wrong today?"
"Dad?" Kelda slipped out of bed and pulled on her parka. "I'm going to go...help Jek, alright?"
"Good girl, Kelda." He ruffled her hair absently as she ducked out the door.
Something was watching her from the woods. She shivered as she hurried up the snowy path on the outskirts of the village, watching the black boughs for movement. Shadows flitted from tree to tree, and the air felt charged with expectation.
A high-pitched shout shattered her reverie, and she ran towards the sound.
"Not so brave, are you now, witch-boy? Now that there's just one of you and all of us!"
"Leave him alone!" She shouted, cresting the hill, and then stopped short as the other children raced past her, shrieking.
"Get to the fort!" she heard Jek shout. "He'll never get us there!"
The witch boy was surrounded by strange, hunched creatures, huddled about him in an attitude of reverence. Flat, scabrous heads rose as she approached, and yellow eyes watched her hungrily.
"Witch boy?" she said uncertainly. "Are you alright?"
She'd fight them if they tried to hurt him, she thought fiercely. She didn't know what they were, and she wasn't sure if she liked the look of them.
He was holding a broken branch, shoulders shaking. He glanced at her, and then he laughed aloud, a sound that sent a strange, cold thrill through her soul.
"What are these things?"
"Kelda!" he said. "I think these are...they are my friends. Or...servants. Or something."
"Master!" one of the creatures cried, in a high, sharp whine.
"Master!" the others shouted.
"Master?" Kelda asked, cocked her head. She came closer, grabbed one of the creatures by the ears, turning it this way and that. "Are they Midwinter demons? They're kind of cute!"
"Cuuuute?" the creature squealed, backpedaling out of her reach.
"They said they're something called 'minions'. I don't know what that means."
"Huh. Funny-looking little things, aren't they?" She grinned at him. "I know where Jek and his lot went. Come on, I'll show you the way to their fort!"
She raced with them across the snow, wondering if she was dreaming. She stood with him on top of the cliff overlooking the fort, watching the minions herding the other children about, gleeful as puppies.
"D'you want to go to the Midwinter's Eve festival with me?" she asked shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He kicked a snowdrift sullenly.
"They're not letting me through the gates 'cause of what happened with that wolf."
"That's not fair, I was the one who let it out! I tried to tell the grown ups, but they wouldn't listen to me."
He brightened suddenly, grabbed her by the hand.
"I think I know how I can get us in, though! Come on!"
-x-
"This will never work," Kelda whispered.
"It'll totally work! Trust me! Just act natural!"
"There's nothing natural about any of this!"
"Shhh! We're almost at the gate!"
Kelda glanced back nervously. The minions were hidden deep inside stolen parkas, long ears tucked inside furry hoods, looking entirely unlike human children. One of them started whistling innocently. Another flopped down and scratched at its ear like a dog until another kicked it. It popped back to its feet, looking shame-faced.
"Right," Kelda said. "Here goes nothing."
She pressed her face to the gate, standing up on tiptoe.
"Hello!" She called. "We're here for the Midwinter Festival! Please let us in?"
"Oh, hello, kiddies." A guard opened the gate and stood next to it, swaying, the smell of Midwinter cheer heavy on his breath. "Come right- hic!- Come right in."
They hurried past into the main square, Kelda's heart in her throat. The man stared after them, scratching his head.
"Buncha scrawny-looking kids," he muttered. "Mothers' ain't feeding 'em enough. Sad."
"Look!" The witch boy elbowed her in the ribs. "Fireworks! Have you ever lit one of those off, Kelda? You have to try it, it's so much fun!"
"We're not supposed to touch those," Kelda said uncertainly. "The grownups said-"
"Ah, what do they know? Come on, I'll help you up!"
He clambered on top of the crate that held the rockets, held a hand down to her. She hesitated, and he pulled the scarf down and made a face at her.
"Come on, scaredy!"
"I'm not scared!" she snapped, took his hand. "I just don't want you to get in more trouble."
"Ah, what does it matter? They don't like me anyways, what are they going to do, yell at me some more? Kick me out of the foundling's home? I wouldn't go back there if they paid me!"
"Where've you been sleeping, anyways?"
"Eh, there's an old rotted-out boat near here that's not too bad. S'warm, at least. And I've gotten pretty good at catching rabbits. Help me with this, will you?"
She helped him pull a rocket free from the pile. He settled it on the snow, grinned at her.
"You should come see it sometime," he said, almost shyly. "I'll roast you a rabbit."
"That sounds...nice."
"D'you have any matches?"
She felt her pockets.
"I think I"ve got a bit of flint in my pocket-"
"Hey! What are you kids doing up there?"
"Too late!" the witch boy cried cheerfully.
Magic sparked from his fingertips, and the fuse of the firework burst into flame. Kelda squeaked as the rocket spun, blew past them, singeing the fur on her parka as the witch boy knocked her into the snow.
There was a terrific crackling, a horrible sound of tearing wood, and then the Midwinter's tree in the center of the square toppled, blazing.
"Oh my gods," Kelda said slowly, poking her head out of the snow drift. "We are going to be in so much trouble."
The witch boy looked at her, and then he started to laugh. After a minute, she started to laugh, too.
"They're going to kill us," she giggled.
"I know!"
"Let's get out of here before anybody comes looking for us!"
The air shook, sizzled with heat, and the village bells began to ring the alarm. She turned, gaping, saw people running past them, carrying children, seals, whatever they could salvage. Fire licked yellow at the snow.
"We didn't do that," the witch boy said slowly. "What- what was that?"
"I don't know. Come on, let's go see!"
She pelted up the rickety wooden stairs to the wall, heard him running after her. The little minion creatures had scattered in the chaos. She stopped short beside the mayor and a guard, tugged at his parka.
"What's going on?" She asked.
"Empire," the guard said darkly.
"Why ate they here?" the mayor fretted. "We've paid our taxes, surely we don't have anything they'd want!"
She looked over the wall. Lines of soldiers stood in front of a vast wooden machine, the likes of which she'd never seen before. As she watched, the soldiers cranked it into position, backs straining, loaded it with another stone.
"A catapult!" the mayor gasped. "What on earth?"
"Nordberg!" a legionnaire bellowed. "Bring out your magic users so that they may be cleansed, by order of your new governor, Borius!"
"New governor?" the mayor asked, going white.
"We have no magic users here!" the guard shouted back. "We're simple people of the land!"
"It's no use lying," the legionnaire snapped. "The Sentinels have spoken!"
"Sentinels?" the mayor gasped. "Here? Why here?"
"Look," Kelda whispered, throat going dry.
A pair of hooded figures, far taller than a man, stood hunched at the base of the catapult, empty hoods questing at the air. The witch boy shifted, uneasy, beside her, and both the faceless heads snapped towards them. She shivered, almost unconsciously slipped her hand into his.
"Surrender your magic users or we will cleanse your whole town!"
"We don't-" the mayor began to protest.
The guard stopped him, eyes glittering beneath his parka.
"No, sir. We do have one."
"Who?" the mayor followed his gaze. "Ah, yes, of course."
Before Kelda could react, the guard pulled the witch-boy away, yanking her hand out of his. She lunged for his hand, frantic, as the guard unceremoniously tossed him over the gate.
"No!" she screamed.
The guard caught her as she tried to go after him, held her back from the ledge. She bit at his arm, kicking helplessly.
"No, let me go!"
Below, the witch boy was gaining his feet, shaking his head, dazed. She looked up, saw a line of soldiers advancing cautiously. She glared up at the mayor.
"What do they mean, cleansed?" she demanded.
He wouldn't meet her eyes.
"What do they mean?" she shouted.
"Look!" the guard gasped.
Brown bodies boiled through the gate, leaping gleefully to meet the soldiers. The witch boy shook his head once more, and staggered after them.
"Go," Kelda shouted. "Run!"
"He's getting away," the mayor said tersely.
"Don't worry, those soldiers will bring him down," the guard said darkly.
"Let go of me!" Kelda kicked him in the ribs, and he swore, dragging her away from the walls. "I hate you!"
The mayor stared at her, white-faced. She glared at him, furious, and then looked past him, saw the line of blazing buildings along the wall.
"Dad!" she shouted, struggling to break free. "Let me go, my dad's in there!"
She broke away from the guard, raced to her hut, the mayor close behind her. He pulled her away with a gasp, but it was too late- she had seen her father's broken body under a beam. She buried her face in his hip with a cry.
"I'm sorry, Kelda," the mayor whispered. "I'm so sorry."
She shivered and let go of his leg, took a few steps and sank down to her knees in the snow. She realized her face was wet, realized she was crying. She stared at the snow, wondering how she'd ended up here.
"Kelda," the mayor said, almost kindly, held down a hand. "Come with me. You can stay with us until we find a place for you."
She took his hand, not knowing what else to do. From below, she could hear the tramp of booted feet, the clash of armor. She looked down, saw bright phalanxes of soldiers filling the street.
"The Empire is here," the mayor said, sounding resigned. "Let's go greet them."
She followed him down to the gates. The soldiers tensed, and she could see bowmen in the back, crossbows trained on the two of them. A tall, hatchet-faced man strode towards them, shaking snow irritably from his shoes. A squat, fat man, ugly as any walrus, struggled after him.
The hooded figures drifted after them. Kelda felt a cold settle into her bones, seeing them. Faceless hoods turned their depths to her, questing-
"That's quite enough," the thin man barked. "Logarius, take the sentinels back to the Capitol, will you? Wouldn't want them spooking the natives."
The figures turned away, following the soldiers, and Kelda felt the cold claws around her heart ease their grip. The mayor patted her head absent-mindedly, stepped forward.
"Welcome to Nordberg, my lords," he said, kneeling. "I am Urvark, Mayor of this town."
"Not anymore, I'm afraid." The tall man gave him a dismissive look. "My brother Borius is now governor of Nordberg and its surrounding territories."
"Ah." The mayor looked for a moment like he might protest, bowed his head instead. "Yes, my lord."
The fat man puffed to a stop next to his brother, looked around, frowning.
"Marius, this place is hardly the way you described," he whined. "It's so cold! And where am I supposed to live? There's nothing but quaint little shacks for miles." He glared at the mayor with piggy little eyes. "You! Show me to your house. I'll make it my capitol building until you slaves have my villa built."
"Ah, my house, my lord?" the mayor asked hesitantly. "But, where will my family and I go?"
"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Borius said haughtily. "I'm not a micromanager, I'm a big-picture sort of person."
"Ah...yes, my lord."
"I see you're already winning the respect and admiration of the populace," Marius said snidely.
"Oh, do shut up, Marius, this is my town, and I'll run it my way." His piggy eyes settled on Kelda, and she stared back. "Hmm. Mayor, is this your daughter?"
"My daughter?" The mayor glanced at her, startled. "No, my lord. This is Kelda, a- an orphan girl."
"I don't care what her name is." Meaty hands seized her chin, turning her face this way and that. "Is she strong? A hard worker?"
"Yes, of course, my lord."
Borius pried Kelda's mouth open, peering at her teeth. She stared up at him, non-plussed.
"She'll do," he declared. "I have need of a new personal slave. My last proved...unsatisfactory, and I had to have him sent to the Arena. Sad, really."
"Very well, my lord," the mayor said.
"Come with me, girl. This place is filthy, and it's well past time for my afternoon bath."
"I shall leave Nordberg in your capable hands, brother," Marius said.
Kelda followed the new Governor, flanked by soldiers, feeling numb. From outside the walls, wolves began to howl. She looked back at the fire on the walls, at the frozen night sky, and then, empty-hearted, turned and followed her new captors out of the snow.