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  The Snow Queen:

  Sacrifice

  By: K. M. Shea

  Copyright © K.M. Shea 2016

  THE SNOW QUEEN: SACRIFICE

  Copyright © 2016 by K. M. Shea

  Cover design by Myrrhlynn

  Edited by Jeri Larsen and Bethany Kaczmarek

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any number whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historic events is entirely coincidental.

  www.kmshea.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Arrivals

  Chapter 2: Raiders in Begna

  Chapter 3: Confidence From the Enemy

  Chapter 4: The Mirror

  Chapter 5: Mobile Magic

  Chapter 6: Strategies & Siblings

  Chapter 7: An Unexpected Development

  Chapter 8: On the Subject of Poaching

  Chapter 9: Vows to Verglas

  Chapter 10: New Beginnings

  Chapter 11: Fun With Phile

  Chapter 12: The Beauty in Magic

  Chapter 13: To March South

  Chapter 14: Concealed Tactics

  Chapter 15: The Purity of Love

  Chapter 16: Restoration

  Afterword

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  ARRIVALS

  The wind stung Farrin Graydim’s face and pushed some of his black-brown hair into his eyes, but he didn’t stir.

  His regiment—the First Regiment, or as it was fondly called by Tenebris, the Fighting First—glittered like a sea of metal behind him in neat, orderly rows. They stood silent as they faced the snow-covered road that wove through a thick, untamed forest.

  Dryden—one of the magic users under his command—stirred at his side.

  “It’s freezing.” She pulled her cloak tight and brushed her button nose, red with the cold. “Bluff, can’t you do anything to warm it up?”

  Bluff snorted. “Sure, if you can stop an avalanche.” He sneezed and rubbed his ears.

  Farrin ignored the idle chit-chat and kept his gaze on the forest. The field of snow that stood between the woods and his men created a terrible glare that was difficult to see past.

  “I hate this wretched country.” Dryden was hard to understand thanks to her chattering teeth. “Spring is just weeks away, and it’s as cold as it was in the dead of winter.”

  Bunny snorted. She was the only one of their bunch who appeared untouched by the cold. She wore nothing more than a long-sleeved tunic, pants, and padded boots. “I think we have Princess Rakel to thank for that.”

  Her observations pulled Farrin from his dutiful watch. Princess Rakel. How things will change for her when Tenebris arrives.

  “Princess Rakel,” Dryden growled. “If I could get one minute alone with her—”

  “She’d freeze you solid, and then you would complain even more,” Bluff said.

  “She would not!” Dryden said. “I would get her before she could work her magic on me.”

  “Would not,” Bluff said.

  “Would too!”

  “Would not!”

  “Enough,” Farrin said. He cast a critical eye for his troops, searching for the slightest blemish or relaxed stance. They need to be perfect.

  The magic users fell silent.

  When the first few soldiers on horseback stepped toward them from the darkness of the forest, his fingers twitched as he automatically reached for his two-handed broadsword—which wasn’t there. Clever Rakel, he thought, recalling, with admiration and irritation, the way she’d swiped the weapon from him. He missed the sword like an amputated limb.

  The mounted party emerged from the forest. Farrin shielded his eyes to make out the army insignia on the lead horse’s saddle blanket—there! He raised his arm in the air and shouted, “Salute!”

  The First Regiment moved as one, raising their arms in respect as Tenebris Malus—the leader of the Allegiance of the Chosen Army—and his retinue rode across the barren, snowy field.

  When he reached the edge of their forces, Tenebris dismounted.

  “Tenebris!” Sunnira—one of Farrin’s healers and friends—broke ranks and ran up to the esteemed leader, throwing her arms around him.

  Tenebris laughed as she attached herself to his arm. “You look well, Sunnira. I hope you have been taking care of my army.”

  “Of course,” Sunnira said.

  Tenebris patted her hands and passed off the reins of his horse to one of his companions. He stretched his neck and strolled towards Farrin—who hadn’t yet broken rank.

  He held his salute. “Sir.”

  “At ease, Farrin,” Tenebris said. He slapped him on the shoulder and offered him a wide smile. It was a happy one, Farrin was relieved to see. Tenebris smiled whether he was angry or pleased, but his smiles of rage always showed more of his teeth.

  Tenebris Malus was a mysterious man. Though he was short and thin through the shoulders, he had a heavy aura of power. His face was bland but pleasant, and he almost always wore a helm or cap of some sort—though one could see strands of his gold-brown hair leaking out on occasion. His eyes were unusual, though. They were round like marbles, and their pupils were more disk-like than circular. They were gold in color, and hooded, which gave him a calculated air.

  “Thank you, sir.” Farrin motioned for his regiment to drop the salute. They complied.

  “Still as well organized as ever—and a sight for sore eyes. Kavon lets his mercenary troops run wild like savages.” Tenebris nodded once. “I cannot fault him. Those without magic are little more than animals—though it is good to see you have broken yours into submission.” He smiled again, and something in Farrin twitched at the harsh words.

  Farrin straightened his shoulders. “It is our honor to have you with us.”

  “I’m sure.” Tenebris shielded his eyes from the brilliant sun. “It has been too long since I’ve ridden with you and the Fighting First. I look forward to speaking with you—and Sunnira.” He spared the healer another smile.

  Sunnira cocked her head. “What took you so long to come?”

  Beside Farrin, Bluff gaped in shock at her impertinent question until Bunny kicked him in the back of the knee.

  “Varmints started stirring in the south just when I thought it was time to come north,” Tenebris sighed. “I stayed to help Grimick stamp them out, but they’re worse than sewer rats.”

  “Varmints?” Farrin asked.

  “Some farmers and commoners playing rebel. Though they should be easy to crush, they’ve burned two outposts and reclaimed several villages—all in the name of their beloved Snow Queen.” A frown lurked on Tenebris’s lips, making the gold of his eyes glow. “We razed a few villages, but they still prowl around in the hills. In the end, I decided it would be quicker to kill their ‘hero’ than to keep hunting them down individually.”

  Farrin kept his expression passive, but he couldn’t stop his hands from curling into fists. The inevitable clash of his affection for Rakel and his loyalty to Tenebris had arrived. “I see. Shall I take you to your quarters, sir?”

  “Yes, thanks, Runt,” Tenebris said, moving to walk shoulder to shoulder with Farrin. Sunnira still held his arm, and Bluff, Bunny, and Dryden fell in line behind them.

  “Released,” Farrin shouted.

  The foot soldiers and the rest of the magic users broke out of formation, moving on with their duties as Farrin escorted their leader to the best tent.

  “I must say, Runt, I am upset,” Tenebris con
tinued. “It isn’t like you to leave an enemy alive.”

  “I regret that I have disappointed you,” Farrin said.

  Tenebris slapped his shoulder again. “Don’t take it to heart. You haven’t ever failed me before. You were bound to do so eventually—though I must admit, I didn’t think your lesson of humility would come from a thin-skinned, worthless princess.”

  “With all due respect, sir, no one who has met Princess Rakel would call her thin-skinned or useless,” Farrin said.

  “We’ll see,” Tenebris said. “In the meantime, I’ve changed my mind about the Verglas citizens.”

  Farrin dared to hope for a moment. “Oh?”

  “Yes. We’ll have to cull most of them.”

  “Cull?” Bluff asked. He swallowed hard when Tenebris glanced back at him. “I-I beg your pardon, sir.”

  “No harm, boy. I meant we’ll have to kill ’em. They’re too stubborn and too prone to hope. They’ll make lousy slaves unless we limit their numbers,” Tenebris said. He wore a smile and spoke in a pleasant tone—as if they were discussing plans for a celebration.

  Farrin stopped outside the black tent he had ordered to be pitched for Tenebris. “Do you really think it is necessary to found our country with such slaughter?”

  “Necessary? No. But it will make it easier.” Tenebris swatted his free hand through the air. “And with the way this war has carried on, we need all the help we can get. I planned for us to hold the entire country by now. As my officers were unable to achieve that, we’ll have to cut corners where we can.”

  Farrin looked at Tenebris as if seeing him for the first time. I have always known Tenebris is a man without mercy to those who oppose him, but this—the slaughter of thousands of innocent people?

  As if sensing Farrin’s thoughts, Tenebris arched one of his eyebrows and gave Farrin a toothy smile. “Next time don’t fail me,” he said.

  “Farrin did his best,” Sunnira said diplomatically. “The problem is Princess Rakel. She was much stronger than any of us could have predicted.”

  Tenebris shrugged. “That’s an easy fix. Once she’s killed, the resistance will run out of traction.”

  A muscle twitched in Farrin’s cheek. He made his expression apathetic and hoped no one noticed.

  Sunnira shook her head. “You need to be careful with her, Tenebris. Farrin did well against her because of his magic, but she could trample anyone else.”

  Tenebris grinned and pinched Sunnira’s cheek. “You think she’s better than me, you impudent brat?” he asked, his voice warm with affection.

  “I think she’s a monster,” Sunnira said.

  Farrin wished she would stop talking.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I am one as well.” Tenebris pointed to the tent. “Is this it?”

  “I hope it meets your expectations, sir,” Farrin said.

  “I’m sure it will. Give me a few hours to get settled, and I’ll meet up with you and your little trainees for dinner,” Tenebris said. “That means you, too, Sunnira.”

  Sunnira kissed Tenebris’s cheek. “You don’t need to tell me—you aggravating man. I have patients to attend to.” She winked at their leader, waved to Farrin, and drifted off in the direction of the medical tent.

  Farrin bowed. “Welcome to the First Regiment, sir.” He turned to his subordinates. “Dryden and Bluff, you’re on scouting duty.”

  “Sir?” Bluff said as Dryden stamped her feet and rubbed her gloved hands together.

  “I want you to make a wide circuit of the camp and see if you can sense Princess Rakel. Dryden will be your escort.”

  Bluff squinted. “You think she’ll attack us?”

  “It is unlikely, but with Tenebris in our camp, we will take no chances,” Farrin said. And if she is near, I need to know so I can stop her.

  “Yes, sir!” Bluff and Dryden saluted.

  “Bunny,” Farrin continued. “We’re—”

  “Say, Runt, what is that shining spot?” Tenebris asked. He held the flap of his tent open, but his gaze was on the distant, glittering smear that rested against what the people of Verglas called Ensom Peak.

  “That would be the ice-castle Princess Rakel constructed during her exile,” Farrin said.

  “She made that?” Tenebris asked. His voice was odd. It lacked its usual pleasant tone.

  Farrin hesitated. “Yes.”

  “I see.” Tenebris disappeared into his tent without saying anything more.

  Farrin stared at the tent for a moment, then motioned for Bunny to follow him. He made his way through the camp, wondering at Tenebris’s reaction. He wasn’t angry. But his voice, it was…off. And he seems much darker than I remembered.

  When Tenebris had saved Farrin some odd years earlier from a life of slavery and slaughter, Farrin thought Tenebris the most powerful magic user on the continent. He’d always assumed the heavy atmosphere that followed Tenebris was because of his immense power. After all, besides Rakel, Farrin had never met another individual so saturated with power.

  But Rakel does not have the same air. She commands respect without fear—and she is not heavy. She is light—and very bright.

  Farrin’s shoulders lost some of their stiffness as he pictured the beautiful, snow-haired princess and her expressive blue eyes. Is it because of the difference in their powers, or in their characters? Farrin grunted in disgust. She has addled me. The midnight flavor of Tenebris never bothered me previously.

  “Forgive me if I’m out of line, Colonel, but do you agree with Tenebris’s plan?” Bunny’s voice was hushed as they passed a campfire.

  “To kill Princess Rakel?”

  “No. To slaughter Verglas citizens.”

  Farrin stopped walking.

  “Yeah.” Bunny scuffed her boot in the trampled snow. “That was my first time seeing our leader up close.”

  “I see.” Farrin stretched his memory and recalled that Bunny had been recruited in Farset and had served as his head scout in his regiment ever since. He studied their surroundings, searching for any spies who would sniff out a whisper of doubt and drag it back to Tenebris. There was no one except for Bunny and himself. “What did you observe?”

  “He reminds me of a snake,” she said.

  Farrin adjusted the cuffs of his uniform, buying time so he could construct a careful reply. “He is very cunning.”

  “Forgive me for my words, Colonel, but I don’t like gettin’ up close with something that could eat a bunny for breakfast.”

  “He’s different,” Farrin said. “He wasn’t always this…”

  Bunny smiled grimly. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Farrin reached for his broadsword—which still wasn’t there—and settled for rubbing the white scar that sliced across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. I joined Tenebris because I respected him, and I owe him my life. But I never imagined—

  He ruthlessly cut his thoughts off when he realized he was staring at Ensom Peak. I must live with my decision. Even she would be hard-pressed to extend mercy to the killers of her countrymen.

  “Sir?” Bunny asked.

  Farrin sighed. “Have two horses prepared. We’re going on patrol as well.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “And then the Chosen army officer—who was the size of a tree—kicked the man. He would have killed him, but the brave and beautiful Princess Rakel stepped out of the snow. ‘Cease,’ she told him, ‘and leave these hallowed lands,’” Phile said.

  Rakel looked up from her book—a very slim, tattered volume Oskar had tracked down for her that contained one of the few written references of elves—and raised her eyebrows at her friend.

  The olive-skinned Robber Maiden stood in front of a crowd of spellbound children. She was holding storytelling court in the middle of the Ostfold square, but none of the adults—who still went about their daily chores—seemed to mind the obstruction. She was a bright spot of color with her red kerchief that covered her dark-colored hair, her white linen pants, and her thic
k, red coat.

  “Her white hair as wild as a blizzard and her eyes like a frozen sky, the Snow Queen parted the snows. With a flick of her finger, the Chosen soldiers were swallowed up by drifts of snow, utterly defeated!” Phile held the children captive with a highly editorialized version of Vefsna’s liberation, gesturing wildly and waltzing between giant ice sculptures she made Rakel carve for her. During this particular exposition, she circled a giant sculpture of a Chosen soldier.

  “No wonder legends and myths sound ridiculous.” Rakel returned her attention to her book. “If the original storytellers took half the liberties Phile does, it’s a surprise all heroes of old didn’t ride dragons and exhale flowers and money.” She read on.

  “I said utterly defeated!” Phile shouted.

  Rakel barely noticed.

  “Ahem!”

  Rakel realized Phile was glaring at her, and belatedly remembered the stage instructions she had been given. “Sorry.” She tugged on her magic, and the oversized ice statue of the Chosen soldier shattered, drawing cheers from the children.

  Phile nodded in satisfaction, then returned her attention to her audience. “But this was only the beginning…”

  Rakel turned a page in her book—being extra careful not to tear the fragile pages—but put the volume aside when she caught sight of who was approaching her. “General Halvor, Snorri, good afternoon.”

  General Halvor bowed. “Princess.”

  Snorri mumbled.

  Halvor was a little shorter than his scout, but his wiry frame and perpetual shadow of whiskers made him appear to be gruffer—like a wolverine. “We have news to share.” The set of the general’s lips was grim. “Snorri just returned from a scouting trip at a Chosen encampment.”

  “And?” Rakel asked when General Halvor seemed hesitant to continue.

  “Tenebris Malus has arrived. He is camped with the First Regiment. Colonel Graydim’s unit,” General Halvor said.

  Rakel exhaled. This is it. The temporary halt of war and slaughter we’ve had since taking Ostfold is over. “Is he as bad as Farrin warned?”