Princess of Ice

Aazuria felt the heavy fiberglass arrow protruding from her sister’s back. It was meant for underwater bow fishing. She could not break it or remove it without causing Elandria further injury. She firmly pressed her hand to skin around the arrow’s point of entry, feeling powerless to help her sister. There was nothing she could do. Elandria would be dead within minutes. She took several calmative breaths before lifting her burning eyes to see the face of the attacker.

  A tall blonde woman was leaning against the door frame with a smug look on her face as she appraised her handiwork, callously gauging the degree of damage she had caused.

  “Koraline,” Aazuria said in a quiet voice, “how could you do this?”

  “The name’s Atargatis now, sweet pea. For the record, it was pretty easy. I just pulled the string and aimed.”

  “Elandria never hurt anyone!” Aazuria moaned in a distraught voice as she cradled her sister’s body against her chest. “This is not fair. This is not right.”

  “At least it got your attention,” Atargatis said, casually strolling around the mausoleum. She stopped when she was standing before Kyrosed’s transparent casket. “Oh, lookie here. What a sight for sore eyes. My ex-lover, frozen solid in a brick of ice! So he really is dead. You really did off your pops!”

  “Yes,” said Aazuria, closing her eyes tightly. She felt for Elandria’s pulse, and it was still there, but weak. “Please, will you let me take my sister to the infirmary? She could still make it if I hurry.”

  “Nah,” said Atargatis, turning to Aazuria and aiming an arrow directly at her head. “I need some important information from you first.”

  “Ask,” said Aazuria, seriously. When Atargatis just smiled at her, she raised her voice and shouted, “Ask!”

  “Cool down, sweet pea. You know, you were such a pretty ballerina in your little tutu. All I want to know is exactly how you killed Kyrosed Vellamo. Every detail—tell me how much he suffered, and describe the look in his eyes. I’ve spent so many years imagining it that I’m rather miffed that you denied me the honor.”

  “If you were so angry that he took Corallyn from you, then why are you not embracing your daughter right now?” Aazuria asked furiously. “Why are you here, killing Elandria, instead of taking what you came for? This is the woman who took care of your daughter, someone who was as much a victim of my father as you were! This will not go unpunished.”

  “Did I ever tell you how flattered I am that you folks named her after me? Anyway, I have captured my daughter already, and she is held in custody by my men. But I want a few other things. Revenge; on Kyrosed and anyone he held dear (that includes you and the dead girl in your arms, sweet pea) and—damn, what was the other one? Oh, yes. All of Adlivun. Can I have it? Pretty please?”

  Aazuria frowned. Atargatis still held the arrow pointed directly at her eye. Elandria was dying or dead in her arms; she was too terrified check her pulse again to find out. Visola had been guarding her, and obviously Atargatis had somehow gotten past Visola. Aazuria did not want to admit to herself that Visola was probably dead. If Visola was slain there was no hope at all; taking an arrow to her brain would be the best case scenario. There should have been dozens of other guards in the castle as well.  It seemed that her nemesis really did hold all the cards. Would it make any difference if she surrendered now?

  She thought of Trevain. Her chest constricted with grief. How foolish she was! Here she knelt, holding her dead sister in her arms. Corallyn was in the hands of enemy forces while the worst could have happened to her dearest friends, Visola and Sionna. To top it all off, it looked like Koraline was eager to release the arrow pointed at her head—and all she could think about was Trevain. Memories of his face filled her mind in full color, and she ached at the thought of never touching him again. She thought of the last words that she had spoken to him, and how awful the fight had been.

  “You look conflicted. I will be nice and give you some time to think about that, sweet pea,” said Atargatis gently. “Why don’t we have a little story-time first? You ought to fulfill my request and tell me all about how you killed daddy! Precisely—every word and every sound.”

  “I… I told him that I was going to do it,” Aazuria said, hugging the body of her sister against her. The body was still warm, and she could not believe that Elandria was gone. Even so, her sister’s blood was seeping forth, creating a large dark stain on Aazuria’s green dress and dampening her skin underneath the gown. “Father said, ‘You cannot solve death with more death.’ No, that was not what he said. It was, ‘You cannot prevent death by causing death.’ Wait, no. ‘Killing me will not save your sisters from being killed.’ Something like that. He said it in such a poetic way… I thought would never forget his exact words.”

  Aazuria looked up at Koraline with frantic eyes. “Why can I not remember exactly what he said?” she asked her enemy hysterically. “I am trying so hard to remember.”

  “Wow, sweet pea. You’re more than a little messed up in the head, aren’t you?” Koraline asked in a mockingly pleasant voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll put you out of your misery soon enough. Now tell me, what did you say to him in response to the words you can’t remember?”

  “I said, ‘No, but it will give me the power to protect them.’ I was wrong. I obviously cannot protect them. I have already failed. I cannot protect my sisters, or any of the citizens of Adlivun.” Aazuria looked at Koraline through her dazed double-vision. “What did you do to my guards?”

  “They were just guards—what do you think I did with them? I painted your pristine white walls with their vital juices. Now tell me the rest of this story! Get to the look in his eyes.”

  “I took my knife and I pierced his chest in the traditional manner. I told him I loved him, and I watched the sorrow on his face as he died. His eyes were like Elandria’s. They both died very similarly, in my arms. My father told me with his last words that he was proud of me for doing what I felt was necessary.” Aazuria lovingly stroked Elandria’s hair. The thick white braid had always been a sign of the younger woman’s modesty. “He used to abuse my sisters. They were glad when he was gone. I think he was glad to be gone as well. I was hoping… I believed that things would become better for Elandria and she would finally feel safe enough to begin speaking again.”

  “Bravo! Excellent story.” Koraline lowered the arrow that she had pointed at Aazuria. She began clapping joyously. “That’s all I really wanted to hear.”

  “Can I take her to the infirmary now?” Aazuria asked in a shaking voice.

  “Let me think about that for a moment. How about no?” Koraline laughed. “It’s too late for her, sweet pea. I shot her through the heart. She’s gone.”

  “No,” Aazuria whispered. She placed her palm against Elandria’s cheek, trying to feel the warmth of her sister’s soul. Her hands had been covered in the blood leaking from Elandria’s artery, and she impressed a bloody handprint on her sister’s pale face. A sob rocked her chest. “Please, no.”

  “This isn’t amusing me anymore,” Koraline said. She walked to the doorway and shouted into the corridor with enthusiasm. “Hey, boys! Get in here. I’ve got some treats for you.”

  A few male Clan warriors entered the room, dressed all in black with copious shark’s-tooth adornments. If Aazuria had been in the proper state of mind to acknowledge her surroundings, she would have deduced that these were Koraline’s elite forces.

  “Nice work, Atargatis,” said one of the men. “There will be a huge payout for this. Prince Zalcan will be pleased.”

  “Forget the prince. I’m more concerned about his daddy. Emperor Zalcan will be pleased,” Koraline said smugly. “Can one of you boys put a collar on Princess Aazuria? I want her on a chain so I can yank her around like a little dog. That would amuse me.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Atargatis,” said one of the men. He pulled a metal collar from where it hung against his waist and moved over to Aazuria.

  She hardly felt it when the man tugged her si
lver hair aside brutally in order to strap two interlocking pieces of cold metal around her delicate neck. She did not notice when he placed a padlock on the shackle and yanked it to make sure it was secure. She could only stare down at Elandria, consumed by grief and anguish.

  She did not hear a man’s voice gruffly ask, “What about the other one?”

  “I don’t care what you do with the other one,” Koraline said with a frown. “She’s dead.”

  One of the warriors laughed. “There’s dead and then there’s dead. This one’s warm and fresh. Possibly wet and sticky. Mind if I have a go at her?”

  “Ugh. You men are disgusting,” Koraline said, but her tone was almost affectionate. “I don’t care what you do with the dead one, so enjoy yourselves. But I want to make a public spectacle of Princess Aazuria getting raped repeatedly for the next few months. That would amuse me. So don’t mess her up too much.”

  “Thanks, Atargatis!” said one of the warriors happily. He reached out and forcefully ripped Elandria from Aazuria’s arms.

  “No!” Aazuria screamed, as tears flooded her eyes instantly. She tried to move to reclaim her sister’s body, but the chain around her neck prevented her from getting very far. “Don’t touch her!”

  Koraline laughed. “This is seriously entertaining, boys.” She moved forward to take the chain attached to Aazuria’s neck from the warrior who had it wrapped around his fist. Pulling on the chain, Koraline dragged Aazuria across the icy floor until the princess was lying at her feet. “Does it bother you to see your sister’s body desecrated? Watch! I want you to watch.” Koraline cruelly slapped Aazuria across the face, causing her lip to burst open and bleed.

  She slapped again and again, until Aazuria complied and turned to watch the soldier’s hands roaming over Elandria’s small waist. She saw another warrior push his friend aside before ripping at the bodice of Elandria’s gown. She sobbed as one of the men began to unbuckle his pants and kneel over her sister. Aazuria reached up to rip at the collar around her neck, but it was futile. “No!” she begged. “Please stop, if you have any decency!” She tried to move to Elandria, but Koraline yanked at the chain, throwing her off balance.

  “That’s going to happen to you next,” the blonde woman sneered. “Kyrosed’s precious little virgin flower should suffer what her father did to so many other women. I’m going to enjoy this more than I’ve enjoyed anything in the past century.”

  “This one’s not putting up much of a fight,” one of the warriors remarked as he grabbed Elandria’s braid and wiggled it violently, causing her limp head to roll back and forth. “I like it better when they’re loud.”

  “Ain’t much of a change, brother. I hear she used to be the silent type.”

  Aazuria wished for death. She was sure that if she wanted it badly enough, death would be kind and take her. She began counting down the precious hours until she died from dehydration. She would not accept any water she was offered. She had no reason to go on.

  Koraline was having the time of her life. “Boys, when you’re done can you grab Kyrosed Vellamo’s corpse for me? I want it displayed in my bedroom as a trophy of victory. I want to wake up every morning and laugh at the fact that he is dead and I have destroyed everything he ever loved.”

  “Sure thing, Atargatis,” said one of the men with a chuckle. “Taking Adlivun was far easier than we thought it would be.”

  Aazuria had to face the fact that she had lost. Once she admitted this to herself, there was a certain kind of liberation in the acceptance. She did not know if there was any such thing as the afterlife, but she needed to believe she could be with her sister again there. She needed to believe that Visola would be there. It was over for her, but perhaps it was not over. She knew her father would be there waiting—he would not be upset with her. He would hold her and forgive her.

  “Oh, one more thing, sweet pea.”

  Koraline’s voice sounded like it was far away in the distant background. Aazuria could hardly process the words through the haze of her emotions. Pain was carrying her to a place far removed from this world; perhaps her mind was already resigning itself to death. Her soul was withdrawing from her body, preparing for forthcoming moment when it would no longer be tormented.

  “Are you listening to me, girl?” Koraline yanked on the chain and tried to drag Aazuria’s spirit back into her body. The physical pain in her neck did startle Aazuria into consciousness for a moment, but she was optimistic that it would soon fade away. The princess was determined to be numb and unresponsive. She was over; she would soon be far away from here.

  “A little while back, a pesky crab fisherman broke my fucking nose,” Koraline was saying. “I believe he was the captain of a boat called The Fishin’ Magician. What a stupid name.”

  Aazuria felt awareness returning to her in painful lumps and pieces. She focused on Koraline’s face until her double vision had gone. Her nose? She saw the small, pointed nose that was so similar to Corallyn’s. She tried to focus on the voice which grated her innards like nails on a chalkboard. A fisherman had broken her nose. Koraline was speaking about the one person Aazuria loved whom she hoped would escape this war unscathed.

  “I tried to kill you that day, right then and there, but I didn’t succeed. That foolish man saved you. I would have let him be, but he involved himself in our business. I just want you to know that he is going to pay the ultimate price for meddling with my whims.”

  “What do you mean?” Aazuria asked, looking up sharply.

  “Your captain has a lovely surprise waiting for him on his boat right now. Perhaps we should refer to it as The Sinkin’ Magician.” Atargatis emitted a chuckle. She extended her finger and pointed at Aazuria unyieldingly. “No one saves the daughter of the man who stole mine from me!”

  Aazuria felt her blood freeze. “He’s not even a sea-dweller. He’s not part of this!”

  “He’s part of your life. Hurting him is just another way to hurt you, and therefore worthwhile.”

  “You intend to hurt Trevain?”

  “I don’t know, sweet pea,” said the blonde woman with a self-satisfied smirk. “Do you think blowing him up will hurt a teensy bit?”

  “You would not dare!” Aazuria said with a warning in her voice

  “I already have.”

  Something shattered in Aazuria’s brain. She felt a floodgate open. The white-haired princess slowly rose to her feet. “You took my sister’s life. You took my kingdom. You took everything and I knelt here and accepted it.” The princess jerked her arm and grabbed the chain attached to her neck. “But you cannot take him.” Yanking on the chain, she wrenched Koraline forward. In an instant, she had used Koraline’s momentum to dash the woman’s head into the floor. Aazuria rammed the heel of her bare foot into the base of Koraline’s skull.

  The warriors who surrounded Elandria’s body had been groping at her flesh like vultures. They had been arguing over who would have her first, but now they turned to Aazuria in surprise. The woman’s icy-blue eyes flashed with spikes of steel as she advanced on the men who meant to vandalize her sister. Using the chain attached to her collar as a whip, Aazuria lassoed the man who had already lowered his pants. She pulled him viciously, moving forward in time to crush his face into the sharp point of her knee. She felt his nose and cheekbone fracture under the blunt impact.

  Aazuria felt two of the other warriors grip either of her arms, and one of them reclaimed the chain around her neck. “You better hope Atargatis wakes up, Princess,” an elite soldier snarled. “We won’t be half as kind to you as she asked us to be.”

  Struggling hysterically, Aazuria tried to twist free. She felt the metal collar dig into her neck painfully, bruising her sensitive skin and interfering with her breathing. When one of the warriors leered at her and grabbed her jaw to plant a sloppy wet kiss on her face, Aazuria felt her stomach turn in revulsion. However, when he shoved his tongue into her mouth, she used the opportunity to pierce her teeth deeply into the
wet protrusion. She clenched her jaw and yanked her head sharply to the side in order to rip the man’s tongue out. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream and recoiled as Aazuria spat out the tip of his tongue.

  One of the other warriors could not help laughing at his friend. “Serves you right, mate! That should teach you to bite your tongue. Get it? ’Cause she just…”

  Having freed one of her arms, Aazuria slammed her elbow into the gut of the man who had been talking, causing him to double over. She retrieved the chain attached to her collar and wrapped it around the neck of the third man, pulling it taut behind him. She used the chain to crush his windpipe until the man crumpled to the floor. Reaching into the boot of one of the injured men, she withdrew a small but sharp knife. She moved first to the man with the wounded tongue, who was writhing in pain. She hastily slit his throat before doing the same to his companions. Wasting no time, she retrieved the key to the padlock on her collar and freed herself.

  Aazuria threw herself down on her sister’s body with a sob. She pressed a kiss against Elandria’s forehead. The younger woman’s pale skin was already beginning to grow cold. “I love you,” Aazuria whispered. She rearranged Elandria’s blood-soaked dress to provide some decency before launching herself to her feet. She knew that she should check to make sure that Koraline was dead, but she was too fuelled by the thought that Trevain was in danger to pause. She needed to move quickly.

  Aazuria ran from the room with her bare feet pounding the carpet. She quickly navigated through the castle, ignoring and vaulting over the bodies of the guards with which Atargatis had, true to her word, painted the walls. Plunging herself into the cold water, she considered heading toward the area she had last seen Trevain fishing. It occurred to her that she had no way of finding him in this vast sea. She knew the general route of the crab fishing boats, but where would he be? Would he listen to her? There was no time to think of that—only time to move forward.

  As soon as she was out in the open water, a decision was forced upon her. Aazuria had to stop swimming when she saw what lay before her. She stared, forgetting how to breathe and extract her vital oxygen from the frigid liquid. Her body floated motionlessly in the dark depths as her limbs became immobile from shock. Her mouth went very dry.

  There was an army waiting outside.

  Aazuria’s heart sank. Her eyes traveled down the line of thousands of armed sea-dwellers garbed in black battle gear. They were all holding lances and javelins, sneering at her through their visors. Their black helmets bore the crest of Zalcan, and their armor bore his emblem; the ominous shark’s tooth. If there had ever been an omen of destruction, it was the contrast of that white tooth against black armor.

  Dread and disbelief coursed through Aazuria’s veins. It seemed impossible to her that she would feel such a huge surge of hope only to have it immediately snuffed out. There is no way around this, she thought to herself, but she did not fully believe the thought. She tried to force herself to face the bleakness of the situation, but the ranks of undersea soldiers stretching before her seemed too grim to be real. I have truly lost. I have lost everything. My father, my fiancé, my sisters, my friends… and now, evidently, my kingdom. I may lose my life, or they may keep me alive to torture me until I lose my dignity. There is not much more a woman can lose.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder, and was stunned to see that Koraline was beside her, grinning madly. Aazuria knew that she should have checked to make sure her enemy had been killed—not that it mattered now. The blonde woman used sign language to communicate with her.

  “It seems I’ve erected an army between you and the man you love. What are you going to do about it, sweet pea?”

  Aazuria’s chest ached as she drew short ragged gasps of water. Her heart rate had doubled, and her vision was darkened. She knew that at the very least, if she was to go down she could take Atargatis with her. She still held the knife from the boot of the man she had killed; Koraline must still be at least a bit dazed from the blow to the head she had suffered. Lifting her arm to chest level, Aazuria prepared her body for one last mêlée.

  Her lips parted as she mouthed an answer to Koraline. “I shall do what any sane person would do in this situation: fight.”

  Koraline lifted her eyebrows before she moved her hands sarcastically. “One lone woman against me and my whole army? That doesn’t sound too sane to me.”

  “Luckily, I do not care what you think.” Aazuria was about to lunge at her enemy when she saw a reflection glinting off the blade she held. Koraline noticed it at the same moment she did, and both women turned their heads sharply toward Adlivun. What had been a flash of green in the corner of Aazuria’s eye was quickly blossoming into a field of green.

  It was the most welcome sight she had ever beheld. All of Adlivun’s infantry was up in arms, exiting the volcanic caves in droves. The men and women were wearing their traditional malachite-green battle garb, except that the material had been updated to Kevlar. The armor and helmets were emblazoned with the golden triple-moon symbol which was on Adlivun’s flag. Dozens—no, hundreds of the sea-warriors on the front lines had been newly equipped with underwater assault rifles.

  General Visola Ramaris was leading the charge. Her red hair ballooned out around her as she swam forward, bare-headed and grinning maniacally. Aazuria said a silent prayer, thanking Sedna for the mad genius of her best friend. It had been over fifty years since Visola’s last battle, and she could see that the woman was gung ho for combat. Aazuria imagined that her friend had been informed of the approaching attack by her scouts, and had been able to rally the troops just in time. Not in time for Elandria, but perhaps in time for everyone else.

  It looked like the troops were sprinkled with civilian militia to bolster their numbers. There were even children ready to launch their bodies into the fray. Her army was extremely outnumbered, but they did have the advantage of new technology on their side, thanks to Visola’s unconventional efforts. Aazuria swallowed. The pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears drowned out everything else, but it was not from fear any longer—it was from witnessing the zealous thirst for battle visible on Visola’s face. It was in times like these that the warrior-woman came alive, and Aazuria knew that her friend was about to create magic with her body. The princess felt a rush of adrenaline immeasurably greater than the one she had felt while dancing on stage—dancing and employing the technique in which she had been instructed by Koraline Kolarevic.

  It would not be the first time that a student had bested her teacher; Aazuria was ready to dance. Trevain was in danger. She knew that she could do anything thing she needed to get to him. She would do anything necessary, and then she would go ten steps further and do everything conceivable beyond that. If it was the last thing she did, she would break through that stalwart wall of Clan warriors clad in black, and she would fight her way to Trevain.

  She turned back to face her enemy and mouthed to Koraline confidently. “It appears that I am not alone, after all.”

  With that, Aazuria swung her arm back, and tightly gripping her stolen knife, she lunged at Koraline’s face.

   

  Chapter 37: Outnumbered and Outmaneuvered