FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Sacrifice

                Kiera said nothing, only continued to stride forward, hands raised on either side of her. The Queen’s red lips curled in a snarl, and she flung one hand forward at Kiera. The witch’s body jerked suddenly, as if she’d been hit by an invisible fist. She was thrown sideways, and she tucked her arms and legs in and rolled, using the motion to climb to her feet gracefully. Just as quickly she swiped one hand through the air at Eira, and the Queen was knocked backwards several steps, surprise and fear twisting her face.

                 I remembered Erik’s words. The only person the Queen was truly afraid of was Kiera.

                Eira held both hands up now, a look of intense concentration on her face. The ever present wind that surrounded her whipped her hair back.  It even curled around her opponent, lifting Kiera’s robes so they danced around her legs. Kiera grimaced as some huge, invisible force pushed her backwards, her arms held out at her sides, palms upwards as she fought back. Her feet began sliding over the grass as she was slowly pushed back. Just as Eira started to smile, obviously gloating, Kiera surged forward, arms shooting up into the air above her head.

                The spectators gasped as the Queen was flung backwards, her body stiff with shock. She landed on her back and the headdress broke, shattering into pieces around her. She was on her feet almost instantly though, face twisted in fury. This time a howling blast of icy air left the outstretched palms of her hands, buffeting Kiera, sending her tumbling backwards, silver hair flying. The Queen stepped closer, her face, usually so impassive and cold was alight with emotion. Anger and a fierce happiness as she bore down on her enemy. A flurry of shining crystals blasted from her fingertips, encasing Kiera’s arms and legs as she lay helpless, her body pressed to the ground by the unseen force of the Queen’s magic. The ice traveled with unnatural speed, until it had covered her legs and arms and was creeping up her torso. My fingernails bit into my palms. Should I go help her? Should I charge the Queen and give Kiera time to escape the ice?

                Before I could move Kiera closed her eyes and her face went blank. There were cracking, popping noises from the ice, and the Queen’s triumphant expression vanished as the ice began to melt  nearly as fast as it had formed. Finally it was gone, and I stared in astonishment. Flames were traveling up and down Kiera’s body. They even licked at her clothing without burning her. Queen Eira grimaced and backed up a step as the witch jumped to her feet.

                Kiera said nothing, her face grim as she held her hand out at chest level. A roaring noise, and a tiny ball of orange flame began to form, growing larger and larger as Kiera fed it more energy. Eira’s eyes widened, and she held both palms up. Ice began to creep up her arms, all the way up to her shoulders as a swirling ball of ice and snow formed above her fingers.

                The fireball flared brightly as it soared through the air, and the Queen threw up both hands, the ice and snow spreading into an oval shield. When the fire struck it sizzled brightly, and Eira winced, arms shaking at the effort of holding up the shield. Then the orange light fizzled out and was gone.

                Kiera was already striding forward, more fire flaring on each finger tip, her face was grim and her mouth was a hard line, so different from the soft smile she’d given me earlier. She threw her hands out, sending the flames at the Queen, who stopped them with another ice shield. Just as quickly Kiera pushed her palms forward, and Eira was pushed backwards again, robes flaring out around her legs as if she was hit by some invisible wind.

                Was Kiera winning?  She was throwing everything she had at the Queen, but I could tell the witch was tiring. She looked worn out. Would she even last much longer? I had my hand on Charlotte’s tunic again, and when I slid my hand down to her shoulder without thinking about it I was struck by how cold her arm was, even through the fabric of her shirt. My stomach sank again. Why did it even matter who won now? My friend was dead.

                Sweat was beading on Eira’s forehead, her lips were drawn back in a snarl as she flung herself forward, arms shaking, pushing against the force of the witch’s power. It dawned on me that the Queen was actually tiring as well, something I never thought I would see. I could hear their voices faintly over the clamour.

                Eira ground out words from between her clenched teeth, spitting them into her opponents face, ‘You can’t hope to win.”

                Kiera’s face was tired but calm, “I don’t need to.” The witch’s arms had begun to tremble with fatigue, and finally they gave out, and Kiera was tossed backwards, her body skidding over the dry grass until she finally came to rest, head rolling to the side, eyes fluttering closed.

                “Kiera!”  My scream was hoarse with tears, and my fingers were numb from clutching Charlotte’s tunic so tightly.

                The Queen strode forward, and even though she held herself upright and rigid, I could see that she was tired, exhausted even. Her face, though normally porcelain, was a shade whiter than usual, and her hands shook as she pulled one shining, curved sword from the sheath on her back.

                “Finally you die, witch.”

                Kiera only smiled up at her.

                “Kiera, get up!” I screamed as loudly as I could across the field, but the witch gave no indication that she’d heard me.

                Queen Eira held her sword aloft in trembling hands, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Then the sword came down, slicing through the air and I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing a dull thunk that made my stomach turn. For a second I only crouched over Charlotte’s body, willing myself not to be sick. Frozen with fear and grief.

                A second later someone gasped in my ear, the same drawing in of breath that you make when you shoot to the surface of the water desperate for oxygen. The ground beneath me was heaving, no…not the ground.

                “Charlotte!” I shot up, making myself dizzy again.

                Charlotte’s face was flooded with color now, her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were open, huge and crystal blue. Far more vibrant then they’d been before. Her voice was high and croaky,

                “Megan? What…”

                A strangled scream was the only sound that emerged from me, and I grabbed her in a bear hug, pulling her close to me, so tightly that she squeaked in protest. Becca and Margaret were there suddenly, grasping her tunic, touching her face, gasping in astonishment. Stacey was helping a pale, but relieved looking Davin over to where Charlotte lay, and he leaned forward to grasp her hand, wincing at the pain it caused him,

                “Charlotte, you’re alive.”

                She looked confused, “Didn’t I get stabbed?” She reached down and jerked her tunic aside, yanking up the broken chain mail to expose her stomach. There was nothing there, not a mark. Only smooth, pale skin. Davin placed his hand on her stomach, wonder spreading over his face. 

                A sob caught in my throat, “it was Kiera. Somehow, I don’t know…”

                I looked up, heart in my throat. The Queen was looming over the witch’s still form. I thought she would look determined, or angry. But she didn’t. When she turned to look at me there was a smile on her red lips. She was gloating. She was happy she’d killed Kiera. Now she was coming to kill me.

                The Queen turned, her robes swirling around her, the sun glinting and sliding down the length of her blade.  I stood up, straightening my shoulders. Drawing my katana I gripped it tightly and strode forward to meet her, anger flaring up in me.  Kiera had just sacrificed herself. I had to do it now. There was no more cowardice in me. The Queen couldn’t do this. She couldn’t kill my friends and get away with it. I wouldn’t let her.