The Impostor Queen (36 page)

Sig's fingers twitch. “My thoughts exactly, Aira. So why don't you ask Oskar what he did to Jouni?”

Aira gives Oskar a questioning look.

“Elli,” Oskar repeats, more urgent this time.

I walk toward Oskar, reaching for his hand, knowing he needs me now more than ever. “I'm not leaving.”

Sig's teeth clench and his hands rise. “Don't touch him.”

“Elli!” shrieks Maarika from only a few feet to my left. Before I can stop her, she lunges in front of me, her arms spread to protect me.

Just as Sig hurls his fire.

Oskar shouts for his mother as the flames hit her skirt. Sig stumbles back, his eyes wide, but the others blast Oskar with their magic, pulling ice from puddles around them and fire from their torches, all of it aimed at my ice wielder. Maarika screams, and I stagger for her, planning to throw myself on top of her and smother the fire—it's made of magic, and it can't hurt me.

Before I can reach her, Oskar falls, his cloak billowing smoke, his arm outstretched, his fingers spread wide only inches from the flames. His eyes are filled with desperation and fear. I expect the ice and cold to flow from him, but instead, the fire peels itself off Maarika's burning skirt and jumps onto his palm. His fist closes around it, and he hurls it toward the magic wielders. Their eyes go round as it roars toward them, growing larger the farther it travels. Usko tackles Sig to move him out of the way while the others dive to the ground. It hits the steep rock wall of the drop-off and explodes into nothing.

Maarika falls backward and Aira catches her, patting frantically at her blackened gown. Her legs are pink with heat, but she's not burned. My heart thrumming, I turn back to the wielders. They're still on the ground. And their eyes are on Oskar, shock on their faces.

He's facedown. A choked sound comes from me as I sink down beside him. “Oskar.
Oskar.
” His skin is frigid. I try to draw the cold away, but it's like a solid block of ice beneath my palm. I can't siphon it off.

“He threw the fire,” Sig says quietly, staring at Oskar's body.

“Because he didn't want to hurt Maarika,” snarls Veikko, blade-sharp icicles growing along the rock wall beside him, manifesting his rage. If Oskar had used his ice, he could have frozen his own mother solid. Just like he did to his father.

“But I thought Oskar couldn't wield fire,” I say in a ragged voice, trying to turn him over. Veikko rushes over to help, and we roll Oskar onto his back. He's stiff and cold and oh stars no . . .

“He can't wield fire,” a creaky voice calls out. Raimo hobbles out of the back of the cavern, his white hair tufty around his head, a walking stick clutched in his knobby hand, a wooden box tucked under his scrawny arm. “And that's why he's dying.”

Ismael, who's bent over Maarika and his daughter, so close that his bushy black beard is snagging on Aira's dark hair, straightens up. “Raimo,” he says, surprised. “It's still winter.”

Raimo jabs his walking stick at Sig. “Someone woke me up with a thaw.”

“That wasn't me,” Sig mumbles.

“It was priests and constables here to get
her
,” says Aira, pointing at me.

Raimo's pale eyes meet mine. “Elli, what have you been up to?”

“Oskar needs help.” Those are the only words that will come. My hand is on Oskar's cheek, but nothing's happening. I'm having trouble breathing as I stare at his unmoving chest.

Raimo's gaze flicks to Oskar, but then he turns to Sig. “Are you finished wreaking havoc?”

Sig gets to his feet and lifts his chin defiantly. “I came to get Elli. I'm going to the temple and taking her with me. There is no Valtia, and the city is in chaos. Our time is
now
. We're going to—”

“I'm not going anywhere, you arse!” I shout, my voice cracking. “You—you—” If I had magic, I would freeze Sig solid and then shatter him.

Raimo's hand closes over my wrist. “We
are
going to the temple,” he says quietly. “You must. But first we're going to give our Ice Suurin back his spark, before his heart stops forever.”

“His spark?”

He gives me an impatient look. “Oskar can't control fire. He was never meant to wield it, but he was powerful enough and desperate enough to call to it all the same. When he threw it, though, he sent his only spark of fire magic along with it.”

I close my eyes, seeing that ball of fire grow as it raged toward the wielders, so big that all they could do was dodge. “And now he's freezing inside.”

“Succinctly put.” Raimo beckons to Veikko, Ismael, and some of the other men who are lingering nearby. “Carry him inside and lay him by the fire.”

Five of them gather around Oskar's body. His head hangs as they lift him from the ground and lug him to the large fire in the center of the main cavern. Raimo points at the wielders who came with Sig. “You lot can stay outside. Come in and I'll destroy you.” He mutters something like “obnoxious little scamps” under his breath, then points a shaking finger at Sig. “And you come with me. You owe Maarika an apology and Oskar his life.”

Sig stays where he is. The temperature drops suddenly, and he shivers. Raimo stares at the fire wielder as cold bleeds from the old man's scrawny frame. “You can't do this without your fellow Suurin,” he says in a low voice. “I told you that.”

“Oskar's made it clear he has no interest in being my ally.”

“That doesn't change a thing.”

Sig blinks at him. And then he obeys Raimo, trailing us as we rush to Oskar's side. He's been laid on a bundle of furs. Veikko is piling flat stones nearby, and Aira and Ismael are heating them with their fire magic. Maarika is sitting by her son, arranging the hot stones around his shoulders, the only protection she can offer. Her hair hangs in sweaty tendrils around her face, half her dress is burned away, and her skin is streaked with ash, but she seems aware of nothing around her—except for Oskar, her hope, her life.

Freya is crouched by his head, stroking her brother's long, dark hair away from his face. Her green eyes narrow when she sees Sig. “I thought you cared about us,” she hisses.

Sig stares at the ground. “I'm sorry, Maarika,” he mutters. “I didn't intend to hurt you.”

“Yes, you did,” Maarika snaps. “But you were going to do it by hurting Elli. And my
son
.” She raises her head, and her gaze is full of fury. “There was a time when I loved you like one of my own.” Her lips clamp together, and she looks away.

Sig's eyes are glossy with tears. His jaw is clenched as he struggles to keep them inside.

“Peace, Maarika,” Raimo says gently. “He's going to help fix Oskar.”

I kneel at Oskar's side. His skin is a ghastly grayish blue. I lay my head on his chest. His heart thumps once, sluggishly, weakly, but it's the best sound I've ever heard.

Raimo sets down his wooden box with a clatter on the stone floor of the cavern. He looks so fragile, but his voice is full of authority as he says, “Take his hand, Elli.”

Aira and Ismael give him puzzled looks as I slip my left hand into Oskar's right. His fingers are stiff and icy. I squeeze them.

“Now take Sig's hand.”

“What?”

Raimo rolls his eyes. “Sig, get down here.”

The fire wielder squats next to me. He gives me a veiled look as I reluctantly lay my mangled right hand over his palm. His gaze traces my scars as he carefully closes his fingers around mine.

“Elli, focus on letting Sig's magic flow through you. Magnify its strength and send it into Oskar.”

“Wait,” says Aira. “Magic flows
through
her?” She's looking at me with hard suspicion written all over her face.

Raimo waves his hand at her. “Priorities, girl. I'll explain all of it once Oskar's breathing again.”

I close my eyes, waiting for the fiery magic to course up my arm. But I feel nothing. I open my eyes and look at Sig. “You have to give it to me.”

Sig's mouth is tight. “There's a fight coming. I need it.”

“Oskar will die if you don't.”

He gazes steadily down at our joined hands. “And I might die if I do.”

“Now who's the coward?”

A flash of heat blasts up my arm, but it zings back the way it came a second later. I sink my three fingernails into Sig's flesh as rage fills my empty spaces. When Oskar touches me now, his magic flows so freely, like he's offering himself. His feelings for me are the reason he was so weak when Sig attacked. His love for his mother is why he's dying right now. I can't let it happen. “Sig. Look at me.”

Sig peeks at me from beneath golden lashes, every part of him trembling with tension.

“If you do this—if you save him—I'll go to the temple with you. I'll help you take down the priests.”

Sig's brown eyes are fierce on mine. “Swear.” I can smell his fear. He's spent his life surviving, doubting everyone, looking out for himself. He holds his magic so tight, afraid he'll be helpless without it.

It's all he is,
I realize. Fire is all he is. Without it, Sig doesn't exist.

“You have my word, Sig.” My voice is a caress. I smooth my fingertips over the divots left by my nails. “Now help me save Oskar. I know you don't want him to die.”

Sig closes his eyes, and immediately I feel the warmth bleed from his palm and swirl along my bones. My mind becomes a sea of molten iron. Lightning. Sparks. Raging infernos. I gasp as the fire creeps its way through my body, lighting me up.

“Build on what he's offering and give it to Oskar, Elli,” Raimo instructs.

“I don't know how,” I murmur, caught in the dancing flames.

He pokes my shoulder. “One would think you're a useless hunk of copper, girl. Don't you have a will? Use it!”

I bite my lip and focus, gathering the heat inside my hollow chest. I imagine kindling the fire, then scooping it up to my shoulder and letting it slide down my arm, straight into Oskar through our joined hands. But it merely sways and swirls inside me, flickering up before receding again.

“I think maybe you don't want him to live,” Raimo taunts.

Sig's grip on my scarred right hand tightens, and he offers me more fire. It overflows my chest and courses down my left arm, my wrist, my fingers. But then it hits the icy wall of Oskar's skin and shrinks back. I push against it with all my might. Oskar is more than ice. He's more than magic. Without it, he's still a whole person, able to love and protect and laugh and live. My hand shakes as I force the heat toward him, willing his heart to move warm blood through his chest, willing his body to accept what I'm offering, to reignite the spark he needs to survive. Slowly I melt the frozen barrier. And then, all of a sudden, it gives way, and the heat pulses into him.

He lets out a shaky sigh, his breath fogging from between his lips. I tear my hand from Sig's and throw myself on top of Oskar, pressing my cheek to his, offering him whatever warmth I have.

“My mother,” he whispers.

“I'm right here,” she says, her face creased with worry. “I'm all right. No burns.”

“Elli?”

I lay my palms on his rough cheeks and press light kisses across his brow. “I'm here.”

Sig gets to his feet, his boots scuffing against the loose stone. “But it's time to go.”

Oskar's eyes pop open, dark as a thundercloud. He sits up with me still on his chest, so I end up in his lap. He coils his arm around my waist. The cold pulses from him, already stronger than it was. “She's not going anywhere with you.”

Sig gives him a ghostly smile. “Oh, but she is. Just ask her.”

Oskar's gaze snaps to mine. “I have to,” I murmur.

Raimo uses his walking stick to pull himself to his feet. “Elli struck a deal with Sig,” he says mildly. “But it barely matters. We're all going.”

Aira, Ismael, and Veikko glance back and forth between me and Raimo with identical looks of confusion. “Us, too?” Veikko asks.

“Oh, yes,” Raimo says. “It's time.”

Oskar looks like he's been hit over the head. “What?”

Raimo sighs, so stooped that he's only a head taller than Oskar, who's sitting on the ground. “You've put this off for so long, Oskar, but you can't deny what you are anymore, or what you were meant to do.”

“I'm not meant to do anything,” Oskar says, moving me off his lap so he can get to his feet. “Except to care for my family.”

“You're the Ice Suurin!” Raimo yells, his arms shaking as he holds on to the stick. “This war will find you whether you want it or not.” He watches as Oskar pulls me to my feet and brings me close. “It already has, I'd say.”

I touch Raimo's gnarled hand. “Tell us what you know. Please. You can't expect Oskar—or any of us, for that matter—to go into this blind. We're all here. We need to understand.”

Raimo glances at his wooden box and rubs his palm over his bald head. “I suppose you
are
all here.” He lets out a bemused cackle. “I've been waiting for this moment for so many years that it seems odd that it's actually happening.”

“You were a priest,” I prompt him. “And somehow you came into possession of the prophecy that's been missing from the temple for ages, didn't you? That's how you know all these things.”

He grins, showing all his yellow teeth. “I stole it.”

“But wasn't it kept in the temple?” Oskar asks.

“No. We were all living in the old fortress by the lake,” Raimo says, picking up his box and hobbling over to the community hearth. He sinks onto the stone with the box in his lap. “The temple was still under construction at that time.”

We all gape at him. “The Temple on the Rock is over three hundred years old,” I stammer.