Snow Queen

and corrupt the young Hero, and she took it. She has taken the boy. I do not know what has happened to the men. I only know that she has the boy in her thrall.

“And why compel you to lie to those women?” Aleksia asked, with perhaps more venom in her tone than she intended, for the North Wind shrunk back in fear. “And why lay the blame on me?” That was one thing that sorely puzzled her. There seemed no reason for the lie.

Do not punish me! I had no choice! She was going to bind me in a cave forever with chains of fire, as my brothers and I were bound once before! She can do it! She has great power!

Aleksia frowned. “I still do not see why she chose to lay all of this at my feet. It makes no sense — ”

She was more or less speaking her thoughts aloud, but the Wind answered her anyway.

I do not know! I do not know! How can I fathom the mind of a mortal, and a woman at that?

Well Aleksia had some ideas, now that she knew a little more of the shape of this situation. Certainly Veikko's mother and sweetheart would tell others what had supposedly happened to the boy, and they would tell others, and soon it would be spread far and wide, as she had foreseen. Such a tale would not be kept quiet for very long; that was the nature of such things.

And then the Heroes would come to the Palace of Ever-Winter, looking to defeat her. Such was the nature of Heroes. The Tradition itself would aid and abet them, even though Aleksia was actually the innocent victim here.

Now it was one thing for Aleksia to take the occasional young man off and teach him much-needed lessons. They always came back. They were usually much the better for it, or at the least, sadder, but much, much wiser. Real Heroes understood instinctively that she was doing much good, even if they were not already aware that the Snow Queen was a Godmother. That was the way of The Tradition, too; that young men who deserved it got their comeuppance. There were many Elder Princes who returned, chastened, to the family fold when a Godmother, or The Tradition itself, tempered by the hand of a Godmother, got done with them. No lesson of that sort came without some pain.

It was quite another thing for her to imprison or slay two great Sammi Heroes and their apprentice, to kill whole villages in the night with ice-magic. The other Godmothers would call her to account; Heroes would come to destroy her. And even if they knew she was a Godmother, would assume she had gone to the bad and come to take her. And yes, she was powerful, but there was only so much she could do to defend herself without hurting those who were acting in good conscience. And, yes, it was possible that she would hurt or kill someone in trying to protect herself. Even if she did not, she would be weeks, months, perhaps even years, in proving that this was not her doing. While she was defending herself and clearing her name, she would not be doing her job. And then, how many young girls, twisted by the insistent pressure of The Tradition, unable to fit the path it wanted for the good, would themselves go to the bad? How many would wind up in the hands of evil magicians to be drained and die? How many young men would turn cruel and hard and become monsters? How many innocents would go unrescued?

And Ilmari, Lemminkal and Veikko — if only she had not given up her watching! She felt guilt and anger and an upsurge of grief at the thought that they might be dead. And that, too, was her fault. She would be called to account for it, one way or another.

The thought made her shiver inside. But not visibly. The last thing she wanted to do was to betray any signs of weakness to this creature. She must keep the upper hand here. This Witch Loviatar was not all-seeing. She had not guessed that Aleksia had already found her out. Aleksia glared at the North Wind, but behind that glare, her mind was working quickly. The Tradition preferred that evildoers be overconfident, when they were not so paranoid and self-protective that they were inclined to slay someone on mere suspicion that he might be an enemy. It appeared that this Witch was of the former sort. I must keep things in that path, was the one clear thought in her mind. And that meant dealing with the North Wind in such a way that Loviatar would not detect her, nor anticipate that she was coming, nor plan against her meddling.

This was a very great risk. The North Wind was not a mere human, and certainly was not one of the lesser elementals. But —

“She will punish you, even if I do not,” she told the North Wind, her voice silky with menace. She rather thought that her deception would hold up, since the North Wind had never dealt with her before. It did not know what she would — or could — not do. It had no idea of her power, and what was more, it was used to dealing with something that was completely evil. “You know this, or you would not be so afraid. And you know that if you see her, she will have that out of your mind — you cannot possibly conceal such thing from one such as her.”

The North Wind wailed; she had thought it was afraid before, but now it was nearly mindless with fear. I must hide from her! Hide! It made as if to flee, but Aleksia still had its magical “leash,” the summoning, and she metaphorically jerked it back to her side. It flattened itself against the ground and tried to blend in with the snow at her feet. Whatever, whoever this Witch was, she must be terrible and powerful to frighten the North Wind like this. Not for the first time, she wondered if it was a demigod. If so, she would need some help in being rid of it.

Then again, there were two Heroes and an apprentice out there. If she had not killed the Heroes outright, there could very well be some help here for her. She must definitely research this in the archives. If there had ever been a similar situation, she needed to find it, and figure out how to make The Tradition work for her.

Meanwhile, given that the North Wind was so terrified of her and the Witch, that it would do anything, she was going to take full advantage of the situation. “If you run, she will chase you. If you hide, she will find you.” She smiled nastily. “I would.”

By now, the poor North Wind was shaking so hard that all the icicles of his hair and beard were rattling together like glass reeds in the wind, and the one on his nose broke off with a metallic “chink.” What will I do? What will I do? It clawed desperately at her hem with translucent blue hands. Under any other circumstances she would have felt sorry for it. But it had brought this situation on itself. You must save me, Godmother! It is your duty! You must save me!

“Save someone who betrayed me?” She widened her eyes as if in astonishment, and chuckled dryly. “So you think you are dealing with some soft creature like a Godmother of the South? I am the Snow Queen, as cold as ice and as hard as the rock of my mountain! Don't you know I have no pity in me?”

Please! I beg of you! Have mercy! The poor thing was really reduced to a pitiable state now. She had rarely in all her life seen anything so consumed with fear and desperation. She hooded her eyes as it wept copious amounts of ice crystals. So demoralized was it that it even forgot to maintain its ice-fog. Now it was just a translucent blue caricature of a man, with comical hair and beard, emaciated and helpless.

Finally, before it was reduced to babbling, she spoke again. “Very well. I will save you — ”