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I looked back over my shoulder. We had traveled far, and the village below looked in miniature. Still, we weren’t anywhere close to the peak.

“Where are we going exactly?” I asked.

Lilja nodded ahead. “The entrance is up high, but we won’t find it. Only Alfrun’s magic can open it.”

“How do we get inside then?”

“We don’t. Not unless she brings us inside with her.”

That last sentence hung in the silence of the mountain. Alfrun might throw us all in her dungeon. Nothing was stopping her. We might all be deep down in the dark under the mountain come nightfall.

We continued on, the horses panting. We had made it maybe another half a mile when Lilja grabbed my sleeve and pointed ahead. A wolf was lumbering toward us through the snow. Helena kneeled beside me on the bench with the rifle in her hands, the barrel pointed right at the beast. “Is it her? Alfrun?”

“No,” Lilja said. “It’s one of her soldiers.”

The wolf growled, showing its row of sharp teeth.

“Should I shoot it?” Helena asked with her finger on the trigger.

“No point. She’ll just send another.”

The wolf slunk closer. Its eyes were the same yellow as the wolf that had attacked us in the woods outside of Norstad.

“How can you tell it’s not her?” I said.

“I sense it.”

“What do we do?” Alma asked.

“We wait,” Lilja said.

We didn’t have to wait long. The wolf sat back on its hind legs, and as we watched, a crow landed in the snow beside it. It wasn’t a gradual transformation. I blinked, and then two men stood before us. Or rather, two elves. I thought my eyes might fall out of my head.

Both had the same pale coloring as Alfrun—long, blonde hair and eyes that were nearly white. The soldier wore a green tunic and what I supposed might be called breeches in the same fabric—pants to just below his knees. His feet were bare. In his hand he carried a spear. The tip glinted even in the dull January light.

Vemund, Alfrun’s second-in-command, wore a cloak of black wool with a collar of shiny, black feathers. Crow’s feathers. Around his neck he wore a thick chain of silver. From it hung a pendant with a green stone, and on it was carved a symbol. Very fine work, as far as I could tell.

“Eivor,” Vemund said. “You’ve returned.” He spoke with the same strange lilt as Alfrun.

“It’s Lilja, and I haven’t.”

I cleared my throat. “We’ve come to speak to Alfrun.”

Vemund’s thin lips grew thinner still as he tightened his mouth. “She is to be addressed as Her Majesty.”

“All right. I’ve come to speak with Her Majesty, Queen Alfrun.”

“She’s got nothing to say to a human.”

“She doesn’t have to speak to me then. If she frees Lilja, she’ll be rid of us.”

Vemund steepled his hands, his bone-like fingers forming a triangle. “She’ll be rid of you anyway.” He turned his face toward the soldier and jerked his head toward Lilja. “Seize her.”

The soldier stepped forward, and Helena tightened her finger on the trigger. “You’re not taking her.”

The soldier halted in the snow. So rifles either did hurt them. Or at least they weren’t sure if they did.

“Grab her,” Vemund hissed. “Or I’ll tell Her Majesty of your cowardice.”