He looked away, inland, toward the ice flats and…whatwasthat? Another volcano? But she hadn’t sensed this one. It was—no. Not a volcano, not a true one. It was made entirely of ice, there where it sat at the base of this monster mountain her son was still pulling forth. She sucked in a breath. “Isidor?”
“He’s trying to…ice…the dome.”
It made no sense—but even as she thought it, ice chunks spewed from the mouth of the ice cone, hurtling through the air, toward Harroby.
She smoothed another handful of lava over her son’s blisters and then rested her hands over his. “Show me how we stop him.”
31
Kyrja had granted herself one glance back toward Nik—and had regretted it immediately when she saw the ice crack beneath him, saw him plunge into the icy sea. For a moment, she’d hesitated. Reached her magic toward those waters where her beloved was, even as she knew,knewhe’d tell her to keep her focus ahead, on her father.
Then she’d felt the heat in the water, the disturbance. Felt new land displacing the sea as quickly as the ice had.
The Giver had Nik in his palm. She had to trust that.
She had to focus on Fodur.
He didn’t make it difficult. He stood right out in the open, no ice fortifications around him. Still wearing one of his signature long white jackets with the silver and blue embroidery over silver trousers, still with his ice-blond hair groomed perfectly back from his forehead. Still with that look of unadulterated disdain on his face when he spotted her.
She knew she looked a fright. As always, a disappointment to him. Her hair was a wild tangle of dark curls, her flame-and-ice dress was stiff with dried salt and smudged with soot from the fire the other night, she wore borrowed fur boots on her feet, ice blades still beneath them.
His lips curled back from his teeth as he surveyed her. “You are as ever your mother’s daughter, Valkyrja.”
She lifted her chin. “Thank you. I do believe that’s the only compliment you’ve ever paid me, Fodur.”
Still sneering, he lifted a hand and then spun, bringing his arm down as if throwing a snowball.
Ice hurtled through the air from his mountain of it, toward Harroby.
She slashed a hand, breaking it into smaller chunks, and then smaller. “Have you entirely lost your mind? What are you doing?”
“Resetting the kingdom.”
“What?” She dared to come only a few feet closer. If it came down to grappling, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. “If you shatter the dome, you’ll kill thousands now and uncountable numbers in the years to come. People will die of starvation.”
“The thanes will. Not the Fjorders. I’ll leave half the domes, enough to feed those who deserve it.”
He meant to take out not only Harroby, but others too? “Fodur—”
“This is your fault!” He spun back to her, not even attempting to mask the hatred in his eyes. “Two weeks on the throne and you have ruined everything. Appointing the Cursed to the High Council? Promising thanes two-thirds of the seats on the Great Council? Asking students to think up new systems that will grant them equality? Passing edicts to allow thanes entrance into academies? Lifting all my bans on the kyrkas? Centuries of work, Valkyrja! Toppled in days!”
“Centuries of corruption, Fodur, that have been killing my kingdom from within.”
“Yourkingdom?” He scoffed, stalking closer.
One instinct, the one he’d carefully hewn in her for the last thirty-five years, told her to back up. To run away, to give ground, to bow to him. Her father, her king.
But he wasn’t the king. He’d lost that distinction, and she wasn’t going to hand it back to him. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders. “Mykingdom. I am the queen, the Giver’s anointed. I am the one he chose to lead our people now.”
He lunged for her, and though she raised her magic to combat his, it was his hands he used, wrapping them around her throat.
Before he could squeeze, she called moisture onto her skin, froze it, fortified it, thickened it. Ice as strong as a wall, as prison bars. She didn’t try to break his hold with her arms, didn’t try to lunge away, didn’t risk cracking that ice.
But she met his gaze. And her eyes burned at what she saw there. “Why, Fodur? Why do you hate me? I’m your daughter.”
“You’re my curse. Your very existence ruined everything.” He squeezed harder, and hairline cracks formed in her ice.
She fused them again. “How? I don’t understand.”
