Frost (22 page)

"Why did you lie to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

I shrank back as he grabbed a fistful of my shirt, snarling in my face.

"You're familiar with this. You were doing the movements before I got to them. Don't think you can make a fool out of me, girl. Where did you learn? I thought you lived with the humans until now."

"I-I did," I stammered. "I didn't learn it. I've never done this in my life."

"Very well. Since you are so confident in your swordplay, we'll move straight to hand-to-hand. Set the sword down in the corner."

I swallowed and moved to set the katana down, reluctant to part with it. My heart was beating out a steady rhythm in my ears, and the palms of my hands were sweaty. Something told me he wasn't going to go easy on me.

"You attacked my cousin the other day." His face was hard. "She's an annoying twit, but you can't go around punching people whenever they make you mad. What I'm going to teach you is for battle. When someone attacks you, they're not going to fight fair. The first thing I'll do is teach you how to block a punch."

He stepped toward me, his fists raised, and I stumbled backwards, half thinking about running for the door.

He’d probably been dreaming about this for days. An excuse to beat the shit out of me.

"No," he said. "No flinching. The last thing you want to do in a fight is shut your eyes. You'll hit the floor before you even know what's going on."

My lips pulled back in a snarl. "You barely gave me any warning.”

"Oh, and all your attackers are going to give you a nice formal warning before they're about to hit you?" He planted his feet and squared his shoulders, shaking his blond hair out of his eyes. "I'll show you how to block. Throw a punch at me."

"What?"

"Try to hit me."

I just stared at him, feeling queasy. It wasn't that I didn't want to hit him. All I'd done since I met him was fantasize about it. But this felt like a trap.

"You want me to...hit you?"

Leif snorted. "I doubt you'll land a blow. Just punch straight out like you're going for my face."

"Um, all right..." I could definitely do this. In fact, it would feel pretty damn good. I took a deep breath, trying to channel the anger boiling in my stomach, and swung.

He dodged to one side and laughed, flicking his hair back with a jerk of his head. "What was that? You're pulling back. Put your body into it. Don’t you want to hit me?"

"I can't say I didn't think about it during your little stunt yesterday." I wanted him to know I knew what he was doing, that he was trying to set me up for something. I wasn't a sucker. "You really think people will fall for that?"

He bared his teeth. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What is your
problem
anyways?" I was so angry that my arms were trembling. Just the way he looked at me made me want to punch him, even if it was an invitation for him to hit me back.

“I can see you’re angry enough. Come on. Try it.” He held his fists up, just under his jaw, eyes glittering. “Come on, Amora.”

I hated the way he said that name like it was a dirty word. His voice filled me with anger, and I tried to channel it, bringing my arm back and swinging at his face as hard as I could. Leif twisted sideways incredibly fast, catching my outstretched arm as he turned. The room spun as he wrenched my arm up behind my back.

I gasped, tears stinging my eyes, my joints burning under the strain. It felt like he was about to break something.

His voice was low and gravelly right next to my ear. "Not so confident anymore, are you?"

I tried to keep my voice from shaking. "You're hurting me."

"Battle hurts. Fighting hurts. You need to get used to pain. Push through it." He laughed, and the sound grated on me like broken glass on cement. "You're soft. The other girls are far ahead of you. You really think you're cut out to be heir?"

Did he actually know what the queen had said? Or was he just bluffing, hoping I’d admit he was right?

He released my arm, and I pulled away, clutching it to my chest, glaring at him. The room swayed, and I blinked.
I can’t let him see me cry.

He stared, face cold and impassive. "They probably won’t let you fight in the battle anyways. It's not like you have anything to worry about."

My mouth went dry.

Leif’s smile was ugly. "Oh, didn’t you know? We're preparing for the ultimate battle. The one to end it all. I'll lead the charge, and the sons of Muspel will fall. After that, the kingdom is mine." He turned away, tossing over his shoulder, "Of course, she might want you to fight. If she does, I doubt you'll last five minutes. You're obviously too delicate and pampered. See you tomorrow, princess."

Part of me longed to spit venomous words back at him. To tell him what his own mother had said. His fears were true. She
did
want me to be her heir. But I didn't. I just watched him walk away, leaving me in the center of the training room, my shoulder throbbing.               

I limped for the door, and his words rang in my ears.
“I doubt you’ll last five minutes.”

He was obviously lying to freak me out. I wasn’t going to be in battle any time soon. There was no way I was ready, and the queen knew that. Leif would say anything to get to me.

There was one motivation to get better at hand-to-hand combat though. I wouldn't be content until I landed a blow right in the middle of Prince Leif’s arrogant face.

After the lesson, once I was showered and no longer feeling like I’d been run over by a dump truck, I headed for the library. Erik had asked me to meet him there.

One of the pashmina wraps from the clothing chest was draped across the back of the vanity chair, so I snatched it up on my way out, draping it over the straps of the black cotton dress I was wearing. It wasn't like I got cold anymore, but I was pretty sure there were bruises developing on my arms. If Erik saw that, he'd flip out, and Leif was already making everything into a big scene. The last thing I wanted was some sort of confrontation between the two of them. It would only mean more gossip, more black looks from the jotun.

As I slipped out the door and started down the hallway, footsteps echoing in the wide, open space, I wished I'd found a sweater with a hood so I could pull it over my face. It would have been comforting not to be recognized. Hopefully I wouldn't run into anyone on the way there.

As if triggered by this thought, I heard the faint echo of footsteps from around the corner. Pulling the pashmina tighter around my shoulders, I straightened my back. Let them come. I'd meet their eyes and keep my chin up. It wasn't like I'd actually done anything wrong.

The footsteps grew louder along with the low murmur of voices.

"You ruined it yourself, Nora. We can't afford another one. For the sake of the Gods, girl, I don't know what to do with you."

"I'm cold though. Look, I have goose bumps."

"You should have thought of that before you went tramping through the brambles and tore your nice sweater up."

That certainly didn't sound like any of the snooty, full-blooded jotun, and sure enough, the two women rounding the corner were servants. Their drab, brown dresses were a strange contrast to the shining surroundings. The taller one—who I pegged as the lecturer right away—was wearing a black handkerchief over her hair.

The servants stopped when they spotted me, and the woman in the black handkerchief grew a shade paler. They both bowed at the waist and stayed that way, and I faltered, clutching the cloth of the pashmina.

The smaller girl had goose bumps running up her arms, and even bowing low the way she was, she still clutched her arms like she was cold.

She reminded me of Charlotte a little bit, with a pointed chin and a light dusting of freckles over her nose. Charlotte was always complaining that she was cold too, but I knew she wouldn’t mind if one pashmina went missing. She would understand.

"Um, you look like you're freezing." My voice was shaky as I pulled the scarf off my shoulders. I hoped they didn’t notice my hands trembling.

What did the servants think when they saw me? That I was only half jotun too? That it could have been them in my position? I would hate me if I were them.

The smaller jotun glanced up as I held the pashmina out, her eyes wide. She started to reach for it, but the woman in the black handkerchief said, "My lady, we can't."

I took a step closer. "Please."

For some reason, it was important I did this. The girl was cold, and I had at least a half dozen sweaters I didn't even need back in the room .

"Please, I want her to have it. I don't get cold. There's no sense in me wearing it just for decoration."

The woman in the black handkerchief nodded slowly. "I... We thank you, my lady." Her voice was husky, her eyes hooded, as if she weren’t sure I could be trusted.

"Please, call me Megan." I glanced up and down the hallway.

If Lady Edda had smacked Charlotte just for talking to her, was I going to get these two in trouble? I could imagine the servant being accused of stealing it or something.

"Look, if anyone challenges you about it, just send them my way."

The smaller jotun's eyes shone, and she nodded. "Thank you…Megan." She added my name hesitantly, like she was testing it out.

The older servant gave her a sharp look and then made another low bow. "Thank you, my lady. We will treasure it."

That was my cue. I gave them a wide smile, turned, and kept walking.

It was completely silent behind me, as if they were both too shocked to say anything. Either that or they were waiting until I was out of earshot.

I might have been missing the pashmina, but somehow, I felt warmer than I had before.

The corridor branched off, and after a moment of indecision, I turned left.

It was a shame there weren't maps posted along the walls every now and again, like those instruction centers they had at the mall. It would be weeks before I felt totally sure where I was going.

The hallway opened up into a wider room after a few feet, much to my relief. A chandelier of shimmering icicles hung over an elaborately carved entranceway. Over the doorway, a complicated pattern of runelike letters arched from one end to the other.

I had no idea what it said, but there were ice sculptures of open books on pedestals on either side of the entrance. I'd come to the right place.

The library was mercifully silent when I entered, and it seemed to be one of the only places in the palace not entirely made of ice. Marble bookshelves towered head and shoulders above everything, forming a semicircle in which several long tables sat. There was a second floor above, with very thin, frosted panes of ice for windows, glittering and reflecting the light. Through the ice, blurry shapes could be seen walking among the bookshelves.

Though it was mostly empty, a few jotun sat at the tables, their heads bent over books. Thankfully, everyone seemed too engrossed in what they were doing to bother looking up.

Walking as quietly as I could, I made my way through the shelves. Then I ducked into one of the narrow aisles marked
B
to run my fingers along the spines of the books. Some were cracked and a little dusty, and some had shiny, polished covers with glittering, gold script. Every single one of them looked like it would be worth money.

What would human scholars make of these books if they found them? No doubt, they would be heralded as the discovery of a lifetime, ancient Norse books found hundreds of years after people had thought they'd faded out of existence.

My fingers curled around the spine of the closest book, black writing on a cracked, red spine. I imagined myself taking the book, running from the palace and into the human world again, revealing my discovery.

I couldn’t tell anyone about the jotuns, of course. I’d only sound crazy. But this book, one single book from this library, might make me famous.

And then Loki would find me.

I let my hand, and the book, fall to my side. The natural consequence of thinking about leaving this place was thinking about what might happen if I did, which made me think of Loki.

I wish I hadn't. It was hard to push thoughts of his brown eyes away. The way they sparkled when he teased me. The way he laughed. And the text messages. Always back to the text messages.

Is it done yet?

I couldn’t believe I’d let him lie next to me in bed. Couldn’t believe I’d let myself imagine...

"You look like you're thinking hard," a voice drawled next to my ear.

I jumped, nearly dropped the book. Swinging around, I came face-to-face with Karina. The scar was the first thing my eyes went to, as if it had drawn me. The jagged, white line was paler than the rest of her face.

She smiled—if it could be called it a smile.

"Hear you're getting lessons from lover boy this afternoon. You waiting for him?" Her gaze drifted from my face, down to the book in my hand. "And don't drop that. It's worth more than your entire house back home."

The fact that she’d confirmed my suspicions didn't make it any less alarming.

I carefully—very carefully—placed the book back on the shelf with trembling hands.

This entire place—the palace, all the people in it—they had the same feeling as the book: all too good for me to touch or even look at. I wasn't fit to walk on the ground or interact with the people who lived here. I was too small, too dirty, too average. Too
human
. And everyone was in on that little secret. Everyone knew—except the lady in charge.

Maybe the queen really was crazy.

"You think this will protect you from him?"

I jerked my attention away from the book. Back to Karina, who scowled at me. "What?"

"Your little freezing lessons, the ones you so badly wanted Erik to give you. You think that will save you from Leif?"

Until now, it had been an endless stream of worry for others. Worry that I might touch someone and freeze them accidentally, that it might happen again. But she was right. If I could control it, it wouldn't just mean safety for others. It would mean safety for me too.

I hadn’t even thought of it that way, but if I'd done it to Lady Edda just fine, I could freeze Leif too.

Of course, the look on Karina's face didn't exactly fill me with confidence.

"I think it could help me with him if he tries anything."

Karina stepped closer, her eyebrows drawing together as if I'd said something offensive. With my back against the bookshelf, I found myself unable to move as she gripped my shoulder.

"Let's get one thing straight. It's not if he tries anything, it's when. You need to understand that." She tapped my forehead sharply with her finger, making me wince when her fingernail dug into my skin. "The sooner you get it into your head, the better. Leif isn't going to be content just ragging on you. You need to watch yourself."

My voice shook when I finally managed to get words out. "Is that some kind of threat?"

She snorted. "No, it's a warning." Then she released my shoulder.

I suppressed the urge to rub it, scowling at her.

"I can see why the queen finds you amusing, pet."

I blinked. "What did you just call me?"

She grinned, tucking her hands into her pockets. "Oh, haven't you heard? Everyone's calling you that now. You know, short for 'teacher's pet' or 'queen's pet,' if you like. I personally think it's catchy."

"It's creepy." I glared at her.

She just laughed and walked away before I could say anything else.

I wanted to shout after her. She couldn't just tell me that and then walk away. Did she know something about Leif? Had he said something about attacking me? Maybe everybody knew but me.

Unable to concentrate on the books anymore, but not wanting to return empty-handed, I took the red book with me, tucking it carefully under my arm.

A few people stared at me over the tops of books as I moved back to the table.

My face began to burn. Karina and I hadn't exactly kept our voices down, had we? It was possible that people had heard us, which meant they'd heard the threat that was not a threat, and the nickname.