Jaspar leans forward, the frustration still sparking in his gaze. “I wanted to tell you, Ansa. I hated leaving without you knowing the truth. But you’re so loyal—and you honored Lars as your chieftain. I didn’t want to make things difficult for you.” He bites the inside of his cheek and turns away. “And I knew Thyra had her claws sunk deep in your heart. You wouldn’t have believed me.”
“And that was the way of it, with so many good warriors,” Nisse says. “Because she reached him first, and because her lies tasted sweet as truth, Lars believed I had tried to kill him. He wanted to save lives. So he demanded that all of us who knew the truth conceal it and never speak it aloud, to avoid bloodshed—and to stifle more scheming. So given the choice between war and secrecy, we left in the night, the truth smothered beneath a veil of silence.” He grunts. “Of course, the real story finds a way of pushing to the surface.” He eyes me with a curious look. “Much like magic does.”
A shiver passes through me at the word. “Your warriors call me a witch.”
Nisse scratches at his beard. “They’re afraid of you. As they should be.”
“Your guards swept you away to safety. Afraid I would kill you.” And I would have, if I’m honest.
“As chieftain, I had to allow them to protect me.”
I look at Jaspar, who did stay. “They look at me as if I am a monster.”
“It was monstrous,” Jaspar murmurs. “But it was also transcendent.”
“He’s right, Ansa,” Nisse says. “Such power. And a warrior must respect power wherever he finds it, in whatever form.”
“I didn’t want this.” I rub my hands along my arms and wince as they pass over the scars. A wave of heat crashes over me, and it feels like my spine is melting, pulling me to the ground. I sway, and Jaspar rushes to my side, guiding me to the bench while barely touching me. “I never asked to be cursed,” I say as I sink onto it. “I would do anything to rid myself of it.” Although now I am afraid it is too late. I let it become part of me.
“Well . . . perhaps we can find a way.” Nisse sweeps his arm over the painted map. “Here is where it originated, after all.”
Now I see—this is the Kupari peninsula. At its northern tip lies the city-state, and temple is scratched into a spot near the northeastern shore, black pigment rubbed into the letters. “Now that the snow has come, do you still plan to invade?”
“We still seek information as to who rules the Kupari. Some say the witch queen has perished, but I am told another is supposed to rise in her place. Yet this new ruler has not appeared in public. A day ago I sent an emissary.”
“An emissary?”
Nisse grins. “Diplomacy! The south brims with it, and who am I to violate their traditions?” His smile disappears. “But I only want to know one thing—if the witch is on her throne. If she is, we must be very careful. If she is not, I see no reason why we shouldn’t ride into her city and decimate it in payment for what she did to Lars and his warriors.” He lays his hand on my shoulder, gentle but heavy. “And if we do that, I would want you with us, Ansa. I would want you to show those Kupari your wrath. Show them what it is to have such magic turned against them.”
“You want me to use the curse?” A wave of sick sits bitter on the back of my tongue. “I don’t know. . . . It’s not under my control.”
“Nonsense! You craved Flemming’s death that day in the circle, and the flames wrapped around him like snakes, striking hard. It was thunderous and deadly and beautiful.”
“I murdered your warriors,” I whisper, the memories rising now, the opposite of beautiful.
Nisse leans close. “What if you could atone?” My eyes meet his, and he nods. “If you were to strike at the Kupari, at their queen, at their people, you would find forgiveness here. Deliver the warriors a victory, and you will be welcomed within this tribe.”
My final memory becomes stark and bright in my mind. Thyra, tears running down her face as she begged me to stop. Even if her love was a lie, her fear of the magic—of what I had become—rang with truth. “Does Thyra know you’re asking me to do this?”
“Given the nature of the truths I had to reveal, you can understand that she is not privy to all of it.”
Because he has told me that she is the traitor. I don’t know if I can believe it. I don’t know what to believe, and the confusion is taking me apart. My entire body shakes with it. “I need to talk to her.”
“Are you well, Ansa?” Nisse asks, his tone filling with concern. “You have become pale as the snow. Did that Vasterutian servant feed you adequately? Did she give you ointment for your wounds? Did she treat you with respect?”
“Halina did a good job,” I say, knowing my answer might mean the difference between life and death for her. “I would not be standing before you if she hadn’t.” Except I’m not standing now. I’m slumped on the bench, my head throbbing, my body weighed down by the sickness of the last month and all I have heard in the last several minutes.
“I thought I might never see your eyes open again,” Jaspar says. “Thyra hit you so hard we thought you might not ever wake up.”