Frost (39 page)

After what felt like hours, we emerged into a wide clearing. The snow was shallower there. Someone had shoveled it into huge drifts around the edge of the woods, making it look like the grove was surrounded by a gate of snow. In the center of the clearing was a city of brown tents all skillfully constructed from animal hides and held up on structures of crisscrossed poles.

"Look up," Erik said.

I grasped the saddle to steady myself and tilted my head back. The sun was just below the horizon still, but the sky had an orange cast to it, and the moon still painted the forest in silver.

They had built a city in the trees. Wooden planking ran from tree to tree, a walkway with railings from one to the next. Here and there, where the tree branches naturally clustered together, they had constructed more tents on wooden platforms. There was even a slick-looking, silver rope that ran from one side of the grove to the next, and I gasped as one of the men in the trees stepped up and grabbed a handle on the rope, flinging himself into open space.

There was a metallic whizzing sound, and he flew across the opening, his feet pinwheeling in the air as he whooped excitedly. When the handle reached the end, he let go, tumbling onto a wide, wooden platform covered in furs. I watched in astonishment as he stood up, brushed himself off, and then walked over the planks from one tree into the next, stopping to chat along the way as if he hadn't just flung himself into space.

"This is incredible," I said. "You guys built all of this?"

There was pride in Erik's voice. "It's all portable. See the walkways up there? All lashed together with ropes. We can have them down and strapped to the horses in under an hour. A portable city in the trees."

"
What
?" My eyes were probably the size of dinner plates. "That's amazing."

Erik laughed. "Sometimes, it is. Sometimes, it isn't. We smuggle lots of food from the palace and hunt our own game out here. But food can get scarce. We work hard for what we have. It's not cushy like living in the palace. And we have to move every couple of months, when the elite hunting parties get close."

"This is better than the palace though," I said without hesitation.

It was true. In spite of the palace's luxury, this rebel camp, with its skin tents and city in the trees, was a happier place.

The camp wasn’t fully awake yet, but a few people walked by, talking and laughing quietly with one another. One group sat around a roaring campfire, roasting bits of meat. The atmosphere felt good. It made me want to stay forever. This brought back memories of camping as a child, when it had felt like there were no rules or deadlines, nothing but the forest surrounding us.

I had the same feeling here with the rebels. I’d thought of the frost jotun as a rigid, stern people. Apparently, when they weren't under the rule of a tyrant, they lightened up considerably.

We rode by a large tent, where the sound of metal ringing on metal filled the surrounding area. Inside the tent, a barrel-shaped man stood over a black anvil, banging away at a warped piece of silver. Behind him, orange coals glowed bright in the darkness.

When the man looked up and saw Erik, his face broke into a broad grin. "You're back, you old dog! I see you have the princess as promised. Hail!" He gave me a mocking half bow.

I wasn't sure how to take that. "Uh... nice to meet you."

We continued on, a long line of rebels behind us as we rode through camp.

Men and women emerged from the tents and waved, calling out greetings as we passed. Everyone seemed to know Erik, and most looked excited when they saw me.

"Did they know I was coming back with you?” I had to raise my voice over the clamor.

"I sort of hoped you would. I told them that was my goal."

At the other end of the camp, a number of jotun were waiting by a wooden tethering post. They took the reins and tied the horses to the post.

Erik shifted behind me and then dismounted, making the motion look easy and fluid.

My dismount involved a lot more flailing, and Erik had to steady me so I didn’t fall. It was a relief to be back on solid ground. My entire body was already starting to stiffen up. Horseback riding was not going to become a hobby any time soon.

Loki slowly climbed off the horse, brushing his hands down the front of his shirt, his gaze darting around the camp. Though his mannerisms became casual, even relaxed, his shoulders were still tense, his hands knotted into fists.

He probably felt exactly like I did. Frying pan and fire and all of that.

Charlotte, on the other hand, was practically glowing with excitement. "Wow! This place is amazing!"

I reached out to touch Loki's arm. "Are you okay?"

He straightened up. "Fine. Just one enemy camp to another, if you know what I mean."

"I think they're different here."

Erik approached us. Several rebels walked behind him, laughing and punching one another, clearly in high spirits. "All right, you three. Let's go sit by the fire. We have a lot to discuss."

~ * ~

The flames of the campfire were mesmerizing. While Erik talked, I watched them snap and dance over the wood, licking the surface until the bark curled and blackened. There was an old, black pot on a grill over the fire, full of some kind of bubbling soup. The smell drifted up with smoke from the fire, and the sharp tang of garlic made my mouth water.

"She knows where we are now." Erik stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. "She won't be content to leave us alone. She knows she has a rebellion on her hands." He looked around at his tent city. "We'll have to move out tonight. And this time, more...permanently."

Loki sat up straight, his eyes glowing. "Come to Muspelheim, all of you! We will take you in as allies. Erik, you were her captain. You know her. With your help—"

Erik shook his head. "How do we know we can trust you? I'm not going to lead my people into a trap."

The heavyset man beside Erik—the blacksmith—spoke up. "What choice do we have? It's die here or maybe die there. If we stay in the forest, the queen will hunt us down until we're all dead. We might keep a few steps ahead of her for a while, but sooner or later, it will come to a bad end. That's why this was supposed to be a 
secret
 rebellion until we were strong enough." He rolled his eyes at me. "But then you had to go rescue the princess."

The tips of my ears started to burn.

Erik rocked back on his heels and flicked snow at him, making the blacksmith grunt and huff with annoyance. "What would you have had me do, Jarll? Leave her to be executed? Give her up so she can lead the army into battle?"

"I suppose not." Jarll crossed thick arms over his chest and regarded me coolly. He didn’t seem to notice the chunk of snow in his beard. "What do you have to say about all of this, Your Highness?"

"Don't call me that. And I think we should go with Loki to Muspelheim."  

Beside me, Loki shifted, obviously startled. When I glanced over at him, a smile broke over his face and his eyes sparkled.

"I was the same way before, not sure I could trust him. But...I think we can. Besides, what else are we going to do anyways? Wait here for 
her
 to find us?"

Erik stroked one hand over the blond stubble on his chin. "I don't know. It isn't a decision I can make lightly. Or on my own. I'll have to call a council, and we need to do it now. We only have a few hours at most before she sends out a hunting party."

He paused as a skinny woman with short, blond hair emerged from the tent behind the fire and handed him a wooden ladle and a set of crudely carved bowls. "Thank you, Marian."

She bowed her head and turned away, and I watched her retreat into the tent, thinking it was sort of rude she hadn't said hello.

Erik leaned over, keeping his voice low. "That's Marian. She joined us several weeks ago. She spoke out against the queen and Eira had her tongue cut out. We found her in the woods, half dead from shock and blood loss."

And I’d been thinking she was rude for not speaking to us. I could feel the tips of my ears burning. "That's evil."

"That's why all of you have to come back with me." Loki threw his hands in the air, looking from Erik to Jarll and back again, exasperated. "Can’t you see that? She wants to kill you—all of us. We're on the same side."

Erik nodded slowly. "I take your meaning, but I still have to call a council to decide. But first…” He leaned forward and dipped the ladle into the pot. Then he set the bowls out on the ground in front of him before spooning the soup evenly until each was a little over half full.

Erik handed the bowls out, and I grasped the warm, wooden surface, letting the heat sink into my skin. There was no cutlery. The others put the bowls to their lips and tipped it back, and I followed suit. The broth was warm and spicy, and I finished it off in seconds.

Full and warm now, my eyelids started to droop, and everyone around the fire started to look a little blurry. When had I last slept?

Erik set his bowl down on the ground and turned to me, catching me in a giant yawn. I shut my mouth with a snap, my cheeks flushing.

"I'm sorry." Erik put a hand on my knee. "You must be exhausted, all of you." He looked over at Charlotte and Loki.

Charlotte blinked sleepily at us, but Loki was wide-awake and glaring at Erik's hand.               "I wish we had time for you to rest. I really do." The pressure on my knee vanished. "I'll call a meeting. You three stay here until I come back to get you."

Erik walked away, already conversing with Jarll in low tones.

There was silence as we stared into the flames of the campfire. It was all a little much to take in.

News of our arrival must have spread, because the rebel camp was starting to come alive both in the ground camp and in the city in the trees. The rapping sound of people passing on the wooden planking overhead was loud.

I tilted my head back, marveling at the ingenuity of the long lines that stretched from tree to tree.

People hung laundry out to dry, and the multicolored clothing resembled a jumble of colorful flags flying proudly in the breeze. A thin layer of flakes blanketed everything, bright in the orange light of the torches.

How did they ever get their clothing dry when it was always snowing?

I turned to the others, about to make a joke about it, when a great shout rose up from the other end of the camp.

The queen. It had to be Eira there to kill us all. Hadn’t Erik said that we had a few hours? Dread settled over me like a stifling blanket of snow. She was going to charge in and kill everyone and it was my fault.

Loki told me to stay back before heading for the edge of camp. 
That isn’t going to happen
. If I had to give myself up to avoid getting these people killed, I would. The thought filled me with dread, but I forced one foot in front of the other, following him. He shot an irritated look over his shoulder when he realized I wasn’t obeying his instructions.

Just outside the camp, five rebel guards crouched in the snow, their swords and spears bristling. Two tall figures dressed in white furs were approaching, hoods obscuring their faces. Through the whirling flakes, they looked like twin specters drifting through the woods toward us. It felt like they had reached in and clenched my heart with icy hands.                            

Who were they?  

One of the rebels stepped forward. “Identify yourself or we 
will
 attack!”

There was a moment of loaded silence, and then the figure on the right reached up. The hood fell back, revealing a pale face, wide, blue eyes, and shoulder-length hair.

Before I could say anything, Charlotte launched herself from behind me. “Becca!”

One of the guards reached out and snagged her before she got past him, holding her back.

“It’s fine!” Charlotte tried to wiggle out of his grip. “We know her.”

The other one pushed her hood back, revealing Margaret. Snowflakes started collecting on the lenses of her glasses. Both girls looked anxious, their eyes darting around the camp.

Becca held her hands up. “Sorry to startle you. It’s just us. Megan, you left in such a hurry. We would have gone with you.”

My mouth had been hanging open until now. “What? But I thought you and Amy...”

Becca frowned. “Amy is an 
idiot
. She thinks she’s some kind of warrior princess and that it’s all so glamorous and fun. She doesn’t seem to understand that she’s going to get killed somehow. Either she’s going to do something to make the queen angry and be executed or she’ll die in battle.”

Margaret pulled her cloak shut around herself. “We heard about you and Charlotte escaping with the fire jotun. The queen’s furious. She was breaking things in the throne room, and she slapped a servant so hard she knocked him out.” Her lips trembled. “She’s insane. I don’t understand how Amy can’t see it.”

Becca tilted her head to look up at the city in the trees, her eyes wide. “It took us ages to find you. We were scared she’d send men after us.” She rubbed her arms, and since she couldn’t possibly be cold, it was probably more of a self-comforting gesture.

They had to be exhausted and scared.

I stepped forward. “What about the other three?”

Becca’s face twisted with disgust. “Amy called us traitors when we said we wanted to leave. Well, that and a lot of other horrible names.”

“And I think she’s brainwashed Alicia and Stacey,” Margaret put in. “They stayed behind too.”

I touched Erik’s arm, and he looked down at me questioningly. “They’re okay, really.”

He looked at the two girls for a second longer, rubbing the back of his neck, then he released a deep sigh and signaled the guards to back down. “All right. I’ll have to trust your judgment.”

Charlotte, finally released from the guard’s grip, flew at Becca and caught her in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Come on,” Erik said. “We have a council meeting now.”

~ * ~

The meeting was held in a circle of tents, and everyone crowded around a low-burning campfire in the center. The coals glowed in spite of the snowfall, painting people’s faces in flickering shadows. Just before I stepped into the circle of tents, Loki stopped me. His hand on my arm sent shivers over my skin.

“Megan.” He studied my face, worry creasing his brow. “What if the council says no? What if they decide not to go back with me? What will you do?”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. What 
would
 I do? The logical thing would be to stay with the rebels, help them fight against the queen. But a part of me ached inside, knowing that Loki would leave. That I’d probably never see him again. 

His fingers were hot on my arm, and he didn’t move away. Instead, he stepped closer. The other girls had vanished, and it was just us now, standing alone outside the tents.

Loki trailed a thumb down my cheek. A thrill went through me as he cupped my chin and tilted my face up to meet his. His mouth pressed against mine, gently at first, and then the kiss became more urgent. His arms slid around my waist, pressing my body against his as if he could melt us together somehow.

Somewhere behind us, someone let out a cheeky catcall, and I broke away, my face hot.  I’d managed to forget we were in the center of a large camp. Of course people could see us. I backed away and scurried over to find Charlotte and the other girls beyond the next set of tents.

Erik stood at the front of the crowd, his arms crossed over his leather jerkin. When he spotted me, he straightened up, waving one hand. “Amora, come stand by me.”

I was pretty sure my cheeks were still bright red. Hopefully people would think it was from sitting in front of the fire. Loki shifted beside me, but he didn’t protest when I started to walk away. When Erik gestured for him to follow, he obeyed silently.

We took our places beside Erik, and I found myself standing between the two of them. The difference was instantly noticeable. Loki seemed to radiate heat each time he brushed my arm, warming my skin, while Erik’s hands were cool. It was strange to see the boys standing together. They were like winter and summer.

Finally, Erik cleared his throat, and the gentle murmur of conversation died away.

“My friends.” His voice was powerful, carrying out over the crowd. “Today, we robbed the queen of something she holds very dear.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, and I jumped, startled. Some of the rebels in the front pumped their fists, hooting, and cheering.  Erik made a slashing motion with one hand and they fell silent.

“However, she is not going to be content to leave us alone. She wants Amora back.”

Everyone was looking at me now. Hundreds of faces turned my way, bathed in flickering, orange light. Some judgmental or hostile, some shining with triumph. My face burned, and the dark shapes of trees around the clearing seemed to blur. This entire situation seemed unreal, like another one of my strange dreams. 

Someone in the back piped up, “Well, she can’t have her back!”

The rebels stirred again, and there was muted cheering. Erik motioned for silence.

“Like it or not, we have to move on again. Tonight. She is no doubt assembling a hunting party to come after us as we speak. It will be hard to find us, but eventually, she will.”

There were a few more hisses and boos, and I had to force myself not to shrink back at some of the looks I was getting. Some of the crowd blamed me for this.

Erik’s voice had an edge to it. “Stop that! Are you not more courteous than those at the palace?”

Grumbling and ashamed muttering rippled through the crowd.

“We knew this was going to happen sooner or later. You can only keep a revolution quiet for so long, and ours has been growing daily. Growing stronger. There are too many of us to be secret any longer, but too few to attack the queen directly. We only have a few choices.”

The crowd grew silent, almost leaning forward as one in their eagerness.

“This is Loki.” Erik motioned across me. Loki looked startled, but he recovered well, stepping forward to give the crowd a wave.               “As you can see, my friends, he’s a fire jotun.”

Surprisingly, the crowd was utterly still.  All eyes were on Loki, examining him, pulling him apart.  I felt him stiffen, but he kept the easy grin on his face.

“Not only is he fire jotun, he’s the son of King Surtr.”

A murmur swept through the crowd, and Erik raised his voice over the noise. “He has offered us refuge in his land if we so choose.”

The murmur grew to a rumble.

Someone at back shouted, “That’s insanity!”

Erik waved his hands. “We can stay here in Niflheim and try to avoid the queen. We can escape to the human world—”

This brought on another rumble of outrage, and Erik gestured wildly, raising his voice until he was shouting.

“Or we can go with Loki to Muspelheim and fight alongside the fire giants!”

The noise from the crowd was uproarious now. Everyone was on their feet, arguing with one another or shouting toward the front at Erik. Panic started to rise in my throat, choking me. How were these people going to decide on anything? They would stand there and yell at one another until the queen found their camp and killed them all.

A deep baritone voice carried over the racket. “Let the princess speak!”

Later, I would swear it was the blacksmith, Jarll.

The noise trickled off, and every eye was back on me again. Terror coated the inside of my throat like a thick layer of ice. My vocal cords were frozen. I wouldn’t be able to get any words out.

Erik turned to me, and his voice was soft. “They really need to hear from you. You wouldn’t think it, but you are Amora to them.”

My voice was a strangled whisper. “What do I say?”

“Just tell them, as honestly as possible...what you feel. Tell them what you think we should do and why.” His hand was on my back, gently pushing me forward. “You can do it, Amora.”

Amora. I clung to the name like a life preserver.
What would she do right now?
I tried to stand up straight and push my shoulders back. 
You are jotun, 
I told myself.
Right now, you are Amora.

A strange thing to tell myself when I’d done nothing but fight it.

“I didn’t know much about the queen.” I was surprised at how strong my voice was. “Only what she told me herself. Now, it’s clear that it was all a lie. I have Amora’s memories, though sometimes...I don’t want them. They’ve shown me one thing that has helped me.” As I scanned the crowd, I spotted Marian, and suddenly there was a railway spike through my heart, a writhing mass of poisonous snakes in my stomach. I was breathless with rage.

The queen had cut this woman’s tongue out and left her to die. She’d killed her own daughter. Ripped me away from my real mother. Thrown Loki in the dungeon. Ordered mass murder. What horrible thing
wouldn’t
she do?