Because she knew that, she nodded. Because it didn’t matter, she sniffed. “He’s my father. But he’s not just trying to stop me. He’s trying to hurt me.”
“I know. I know.” He rested his head on hers for a moment but then stepped back. “We need to go. Get out of the forest.”
She let the blood-stained snow fall and moved with him toward the bridge. The last of the people had crossed to the other side, though many of them kept sending frightened looks down into the ravine.
What was she doing, leading them into danger like this? “We need to convince them to stay at the next village. I love that they want to accompany us, but with Fodur plaguing us…”
Nik blew out a long breath. “We’ll deal with that later. First, we just have to get there.”
She could feel Fodur chipping away at her ice as they crossed. Could he tell what it was, sense it was supporting her? Was he trying to send her hurtling to her death, or just to undo whatever work she was doing? She held it firm while they were crossing, against both his attack and Nik’s heat, then let go of her hold on it.
Her stomach was in knots. She nodded to Nik, Raf, and the elder. “We need to hurry.”
It was better out of the forest. For a while. Or perhaps her father had simply been regrouping, because within an hour, the blades of ice were back. She turned some to snow while Nik melted others, but the shouts of dismay from the outcasts had her seeking out their leader.
The elder’s terrified gaze was latched on the sky, where black clouds were once again alive with electricity.
She cleared her throat. “Change of plans.”
He looked to her, concern etched on his face. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I need you to get everyone to Harroby. I don’t know how far my father’s storm will reach. You all need the protection of the dome.”
His face blanked for a moment, then hardened. “We are not welcome there.”
“Yes, you are. Raf!”
Rafnar jogged her way, determination on his own face. “What can I do?”
“I need you to get everyone to the safety of the dome. House them in the abandoned kyrka if there’s nowhere else large enough. Here.” She scooped up a handful of snow and compressed it, hardened it, shaped it into the intricate snowflake she’d been using on all her official correspondence as her seal. “If anyone in Harroby gives you trouble, they will answer to me. Take this as proof.”
Raf accepted the snowflake. “I assume this won’t melt inside the dome? Like your icographs?”
“It will last for at least a month. Well, assuming Nik doesn’t get hold of it.” She turned back to the elder. “Nik and I will angle away from the coast as soon as we can. Do you have a fast runner you can send to the other outcasts, telling them to head to Harroby as well?”
He nodded. “My grandson. But Your Majesty, we don’t want to abandon you.”
“You’re not. You’re helping me.” She reached out, clapped a hand to the old man’s fur-clad shoulder. “I cannot bear the thought of any of you being hurt by my father’s rage. It’s me he’s seeking, but he won’t care who gets harmed in the process.” As far as Fodur was concerned, thanes only mattered insofar as they were working. Outcasts? He would happily kill them all to get to her, she knew he would. She wouldn’t put it past him to do it on purpose, even, if he knew they’d aligned themselves with her, just to upset her.
He looked about to argue, though he clearly didn’t know which words to use.
Because there weren’t any. There was nothing they could do to fight Fodur. “Please, my friend. Do this for me. Have your grandson go ahead of us and send any in our path to safety. This will free me to concentrate on counteracting my father, without worrying about everyone else.”
Another moment of struggle flashed over his face, but then he nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty. So shall it be.”
“Thank you.” She looked to Raf again. “I know we thought you’d have a few more days with us before your new mission began, but…”
“If this is what you need me to do, then consider it done.” Raf pocketed the ice crystal and turned to the group. “Everyone,follow me! We’re going to the dome for safety, by order of the queen.”
Nik moved to her side. “We’ll be out of land soon. Maybe if we move quickly enough, I won’t have a chance to melt through. The ice here has to be thick, right?”
“Several feet.” But with only ice beneath them, he’d be cut off from his source, like on the trireme, when she’d awoken to find his brow sweat-soaked, the heat somehow different, more dangerous, than his usual kind—or like when they were in the water, when he’d so quickly succumbed to the cold. “Nik.” She reached out, grasped his arm.
He looked over at her, curiosity hardening into rock. “No. Don’t even think about it.”
“This place is too dangerous for you. You won’t be able to use the very thing you need.”
“So I’m cut off from my source for a little while. I’ll be fine. I lived twenty-eight years without access to this magic, a few days won’t hurt me.”
