The Shield of the Vanir

 Just as Fingal raises a glowing fingertip to dramatically add to his rune, my shield strikes a glancing blow to his head, breaking his focus. The green light of the rune flares, activating not whatever it was he wanted to make, but an Isa.
 

Ice spreads from him in a two-pace wide circle. Frost forms over Fingal himself as he drops to his knees. Unfortunately for him, he’s at a bad angle and his knees immediately slip out from under him. His face smacks into the frozen road.

The tree releases me.

I land on my sock-covered feet.

The shopkeeper stands in his doorway. The concerned, mournful look on his face makes my stomach plunge. He drops to a knee beside Riecka’s clothes, then lifts the leather flap, revealing Mab’s gold orb.

“Best ya leave,” he says with a little shake of his head. “I wish ya well, but I fear that’s no how this will end.”

After grabbing my boots, I stoop to snag my shield. Halla and I rush to Sylvi. Arms slack at her side, a single drop of blood drips off the tip of one of her blades. There’s no sign of her spear as she stands in the middle of the street, staring in befuddlement at Riecka’s clothing.

“Why would she do that?” Sylvi whispers. “Why?”

“Sheathe your blades,” I tell her, grabbing her right elbow and turning her around. “Time to go.”

From Sylvi’s other side, Halla takes her other arm. “Will leaving town be enough?”

A deep despair hollows out my guts. Though she knows me pretty well, Queen Mab and I weren’t great friends even before I broke up with her daughter.

“No. It won’t.”


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