Forest of Shadows Page 2

  Wherever Elsa went, people seemed to follow. They were there in the morning, asking her questions about what should be done in the afternoon, asking what they should be doing in the evening, asking what they should do tomorrow. Elsa’s table in the council chambers was always heaped with papers, and more often than not, Anna only caught a glimpse of her sister as Gerda ushered her from one appointment to another, always tapping the comically large calendar like a metronome to keep Elsa on the day’s beat.

  And Elsa’s frantic schedule had only gotten busier over the last month, because at the end of this week, she would at last follow the tradition started by their grandfather King Runeard: setting off on a grand tour of the world. In five days, Elsa would leave from the Arenfjord, the body of water on which Arendelle was built, sailing past Weselton and the Southern Isles before heading east to explore lands like Zaria, Royaume, Chatho, Tikaani, Eldora, Torres, and Corona, to name a few. Elsa would meet everyone: dignitaries and dancers, scientists, painters, and prized mountain goats. And she would be going without Anna.

  When Kai, the castle’s old steward, had first mentioned it was time for Elsa to start planning for her grand tour, Anna had assumed she would be going with her older sister. But as the months dwindled down to weeks and then to days, Elsa still hadn’t invited her. And it wasn’t as though Anna hadn’t given Elsa plenty of chances to ask her. Only last week, Anna had oh-so-casually mentioned that it had always been a dream of hers to see the Chathoan ballet—and she’d said so in Chathoanese. She’d spent days perfecting her accent. Before that, she’d performed Tikaani’s national anthem for everyone at the castle, with an accompaniment by Olaf, the snowman whom Elsa had created three years ago with her magical ice powers, on a carrot-nose flute. So far, though, none of Anna’s efforts had worked.

  But that was going to change today.

  Or so she had planned.

  Still peering through the window, Anna frowned as even more villagers in brightly colored shawls and jackets entered through the castle gates and hurried to join the crowd around Elsa.

  Anna had been racking her mind all week and had finally decided that the perfect time would be this morning, during their last scheduled sisterly ride through the woods before Elsa’s departure. Anna knew that Elsa found the quiet of the forest peaceful, and she hoped that it would lead to the perfect moment to ask Elsa if she could go on the grand tour with her. A ride was also a good opportunity to prove that Anna could be a useful traveling companion. That she was helpful and wouldn’t get in the way. But that was part of the trouble. Elsa didn’t seem to need any help.

  Though Elsa had only been crowned queen three years before, Anna already knew her older sister would be remembered as one of the great rulers of Arendelle, like the ones who appeared on the tapestry that hung across from Anna’s bed. Her sister appeared to always have everything under control—even her magical powers—with a regal presence that all respected. Whenever Elsa listened to Anna, she made Anna feel special and important, and at twenty-four years old, Elsa carried herself the same way she seemed to do everything: effortlessly.

  “It’s been like that since she got here,” Kristoff said, coming to stand next to Anna and look out the stables’ window. “Which,” he said, giving her a teasing look, “was half an hour ago.”

  Anna made a face. “I know, I know—I overslept…again.” She needed to find some way to pull Elsa out of the crowd for their horseback ride. Before Elsa left her.

  Something tugged on Anna’s foot, and she looked down to see that the tiny gray kitten had returned, determined, it seemed, to catch those devious laces.

  “Hey, Kristoff?” Anna said slowly, still watching the persistent kitten, only the size her palm, take on her large boot. “I think I have an idea. Do you have a minute?”

  “For you?” Kristoff winked. “Always.”

  Anna grinned as she wrenched the kitten off her laces and placed it into Kristoff’s arms. “Perfect! So, here’s the plan….”

  A few minutes later, Anna left the stables and hurried out to the friendly crowd in the courtyard. As she got closer, she could hear their questions piling up all around Elsa.

  “Your Majesty, the chimney in our forge has cracks, and I’m worried it won’t be mended in time for the winter,” called Ada Diaz, a woman with curly brown hair standing next to her wife, Tuva Diaz, who had even curlier brown hair. They were the best blacksmiths on the continent and were known for making the luckiest horseshoes, though it seemed even an abundance of lucky horseshoes weren’t as helpful as their queen’s collected wisdom.

  “I was here first,” another familiar-looking villager sniped at Ada before turning in Elsa’s direction and bowing. “Your Majesty, you promised that the rocks in my garden would be removed by the beginning of autumn, and look—” He held up a red oak leaf. “It’s autumn!”

  “Ah-hem,” yet another said. “The Village Crown is waiting for you to announce who the judges will be for the harvest festival this year, Your Majesty. Do you have the names?” Though Anna couldn’t see this particular person in the crowd, she knew, just by hearing his voice and grating, know-it-all cough, that it was Wael, the self-proclaimed reporter for the village, whose slick black hair always matched his ink-stained hands.

  Sidling toward Elsa, Anna counted down silently. Three…two…one…Then she signaled for Kristoff.

  “Oh, my goodness, Sven!” Kristoff proclaimed loudly from the stables’ entrance. “Look at these adorable kittens!”

  “They’re cuter than you!” he said in Sven’s voice.

  And during the brief second that everyone in the crowd turned to look at the kittens frolicking in the far corner of the courtyard, Anna darted into the throng, grabbed Elsa’s hand, and pulled her around the back of the stables and inside.

  “Anna!” Elsa gasped as they ducked around a corner, where the fully saddled Havski and Fjøra, the swiftest horses in the stables, stood waiting for them. “What are you doing?”

  Anna grinned. “Breaking you free!”

  “But…” Elsa protested, sweeping a loose tendril of ice-blond hair off her forehead, “the villagers, they need my help—”

  “I know!” Anna nodded. “But Kai and Gerda can handle their requests, and it’s important for you to ride out one last time before you set sail—just to make sure everything is in order. Don’t you agree? Besides,” she added, beaming even wider, “don’t you want to spend some time with me?”

  Even though she’d been handling complaints all morning, Elsa still seemed regal and calm. The wind blew though an open door and buffeted her diaphanous blue split cape and coat, and tugged at the fishtail braid hanging over her left shoulder. For a moment, she looked like a timeless, valiant queen from one of Anna’s history books. But the next second, she flashed a grin at Anna, and it was like it had been before—when they were just two children sneaking out of their bedrooms for a nighttime adventure.

  “I suppose I could let Kai and Gerda take care of things—just this once,” Elsa said.

  Anna let out a whoop of joy. She swung up onto Havski’s back while Elsa took a moment to clamber on top of Fjøra, a beautiful horse with a black-and-white striped tail. Finally, after a few attempts, Elsa mounted. Together, they trotted out of the stables and left the courtyard, with Anna waving to Kristoff, who smiled from under a pile of kittens batting at his face.

  The sisters crossed the Bridge of Arches and took in the wild, fresh autumn air. Behind them, nestled in the shadow of soaring mountains, the castle sparkled and shone with the decorative touches of Elsa’s ice magic. Anna kicked her horse into a canter, and Elsa did the same.

  Arendelle was a kingdom of wilderness, of rugged coasts, deep blue waters, and towering ships. Lots and lots of ships. They came from everywhere, bringing people from all over the world who were happy to settle down in the picturesque kingdom—people who were happy to answer Anna’s invitation to share memories of their own countries so she could learn about their customs. Memories tha
t could help Anna prepare Elsa for the grand tour…if only Elsa would let her. Because while ships brought people to the kingdom, they also left with people. The royal ship currently sat in the harbor, loaded with goods and waiting for Elsa to board.

  As they rode past the expanding village and people waving excitedly at them, a delighted fizziness filled Anna’s body. This was the best part of opening the kingdom gates three years ago—all the new people and new ideas that had trickled in. Although the village was more populous than ever before, with more and more people having moved there, Arendelle would always be Anna’s heart and home. That was one thing that would never change.

  As they moved beyond the houses and shops, the forest of Arendelle flourished around them, showing off in bright yellows, deep reds, and burnt oranges that reminded Anna of bonfires and melted caramels. A happy sigh slipped from Anna. The autumn leaves had just begun to turn and change, and the living things of the forest seemed to be settling into themselves, the same way Elsa had settled into being queen. Anna didn’t particularly like change. She always wanted things to stay the same. These days, Anna barely got to see Elsa, who was constantly cooped up in the council chambers poring over paperwork, or else leading important meetings that Anna also attended. But she was happy watching Elsa come into her own, even if it meant their relationship was evolving as a side effect of it.

  The horses slowed, picking up an easy trot side by side. Wondering if now was the moment, Anna glanced over at Elsa. Her sister wore a far-off and pensive look on her face.

  “What are you thinking about?” Anna asked.

  “Oh.” Elsa looked up from her reins. “Nothing…just, you know, work.”

  “Want to tell me?” Anna said, trying to keep her eagerness down to about a level eight, instead of her usual level ten. “You remember what Father always said, right?”

  Elsa tilted her head. “What, that ‘burdens should be shared’?”

  Something scraped in Anna, like a rough crumb caught in her throat. Because…well, her family’s burdens and secrets hadn’t been for everyone. Or at least, they hadn’t been for Anna. Her father had let a mountain troll bundle away Anna’s memories of Elsa’s ice magic, and he, her mother, and Elsa had all worked together to keep it a secret from Anna.

  And it had stayed a very, very big secret, until Elsa’s coronation day, when Anna had pushed the new queen a little too far and Elsa had lost control of her temper—and her ice powers. Which, at the time, had seemed as terrible as the vast and eternal winter that had taken root in the kingdom, but in hindsight had been the best thing to ever happen to Anna. Not only had it marked the beginning of a new era with her sister, but Anna had also narrowly managed to avoid a very…hasty…marriage with a prince who had deceived her.

  “Nope! Not that one!” Anna shook her head, wishing she could shake away the uncomfortable feeling. “The other saying—the one about ‘many hands make light work.’”

  “Oh.” Elsa laughed. “He had a lot of sayings, didn’t he?”

  Anna waited for Elsa to keep talking, but she seemed to have forgotten Anna was there again even though she was trotting alongside her.

  “Hey, Elsa?” she tried again.

  “Hmm?”

  “Bet I can beat you to the clearing!”

  “What?”

  But Anna had already kicked Havski back into a gallop. Havski surged forward, setting Anna’s heart free. Riding the gray horse was like riding an avalanche: fast, thrilling, and powerful. Adrenaline rushed through her, and without thinking, she let go of the reins.

  “What are you doing?” Elsa shouted from behind her.

  “Flying!” Anna shouted back. She flung out her arms. Cool wind flowed over her face, and it seemed to blow away that tight feeling that had settled on her chest since Elsa had announced she was leaving. Elsa yelled something, but the wind swept her words away.

  “What?” Anna glanced over her shoulder.

  “BRANCH!” Elsa yelled again.

  Anna swung forward just in time to duck beneath a birch tree’s low-hanging branch. Giggling, she hugged Havski’s neck and the horse snorted in response, never missing a stride. And why should he? They’d grown up together, and for a long time, he’d been the closest thing Anna had had to a best friend. They’d dodged thicker branches and jumped across wider rivers together. Picking up the reins again, she kept them loose and let Havski settle into a breathless canter.

  Gradually, his strides shortened and he transitioned into an easy trot before reaching a mossy clearing. There was a crunch and the sound of twigs snapping, and Anna twisted in her saddle just in time to see Elsa and Fjøra blunder into the clearing. A single scarlet leaf had snagged on Elsa’s hair, and it looked almost as though the forest had crowned her its autumn queen.

  Anna grinned. “Isn’t this fun?”

  Sweeping away loose strands of her blond hair, Elsa plucked the leaf off her head, looked at it, and began to laugh. “It is,” she agreed.

  Anna felt like a miniature sun had ignited in her chest.

  Eventually, they neared the tamed, bountiful farmlands, and Anna, sneaking glances at Elsa, saw that her sister had finally settled into her saddle and was looking around the landscape with curious eyes. She seemed at ease. She seemed relaxed. Maybe it was time for Anna to finally ask her burning question. As they turned left, they passed a beautiful orchard with bright red apples and autumn leaves so orange that the world looked like it had been set aflame. Apples. Perfect.

  Anna pointed at them. “Did you know that there’s an apple on the royal flag of Zaria?” she said oh-so-casually. “And that’s because it’s always customary for a guest to present an apple to the host.” A worry pricked Anna’s thoughts. “Your ship does have apples on board, right?”

  Elsa shook her head. “Yes, Anna—you’ve made sure of it! If I have any more barrels of gifts you’ve suggested for everyone, my ship will be too heavy to leave the harbor!”

  Anna swept her bangs out of her eyes and laughed. “What would you do without me?” She tugged on the reins, gently pulling Havski to a halt. “Elsa, I wanted to ask you something. I was wondering if I could join—” But before she could finish, Havski’s ears flattened as a rustling came from nearby.

  A villager burst from the underbrush, panting heavily as she lifted her green skirts high so she could run.

  It took Anna a moment to place her—there were so many new villagers in Arendelle these days—but then she recognized SoYun Lim, a girl Anna’s own age who’d recently started to herd cattle on a farm not far from there. Anna had talked to her over the summer, during one of the castle’s hosted bonfire nights, and had asked her about her native country of Chatho. Research, of course, for the grand tour. In fact, SoYun had been the one to help Anna perfect her Chathoanese accent.

  But that girl always seemed as calm as a lake on a windless morning, her quiet nature soothing the animals she tended. The girl standing in front of her now was disheveled. Her jet-black braid, which usually hung as straight and tidy as a clothesline, was a series of escaping loops, and she had on two different boots—the left foot was clad in a tall black boot, while the right foot wore a soft brown leather one. But it wasn’t the strange state of her clothes or hair that sent warning bells tolling through Anna. It was the girl’s expression—wide-eyed, as though she’d seen a ghost—and the frantic way in which she flailed her arms to catch their attention.

  “Your Majesty!” SoYun bobbed her head toward Elsa in a slight bow. “Thank goodness I caught up with you—something terrible has happened!”

  “SOYUN! WHAT’S WRONG?” Anna swung off Havski, landing in a pile of leaves before hurrying toward her.

  “It’s my cattle,” SoYun said, looking from Elsa, who was cautiously dismounting from Fjøra, to Anna. “They’re—oh!” SoYun shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin!” Tears formed in her eyes.

  Anna opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself to give Elsa a chance.

  Elsa stepp
ed a little closer. “How about if you take us to your cattle, and you can tell us all about it on the way? Say whatever comes first, and we’ll piece it together, all right?”

  SoYun blew her nose, then nodded. “I’m just up that way,” she said, and broke into such a fast walk that it almost could have been a jog. Holding on to the horses’ reins, the sisters followed, trying to catch SoYun’s story as she told it.

  “It started a few days ago,” SoYun said, her voice ragged, “when I tried to call the cattle in—you know how it usually works like a charm.”

  Anna did. Calling cattle was an old Arendellian custom of singing high notes to summon the animals home. Much practice and control was required in order to do it properly, as it was so much more than a simple call. It was a fairy-like sound. A sound that raised the hair on the back of Anna’s neck and let her know—really, truly, deeply know—for one single instant that any difference between her and the earth and wind and sky was only an illusion. SoYun was now one of the best cattle callers in the village. She never had any trouble. In fact, when the cows wouldn’t come home, people always went to SoYun for help.

  “And so, I went out into the fields,” SoYun continued, “and tried to sing them home. But…” Her shoulders slumped. “They never came. Not even when I pulled out my bukkehorn. I went out looking, and when I finally found them…” SoYun’s voice broke off.

  “What happened?” Elsa pressed as they cleared a copse of maple trees and entered into a meadow nestled at the foothill of a blue mountain, where Anna could just make out a neat farmhouse among even neater rows of golden fields, and a herd of cattle circled around a large white boulder.

  “This is what happened.” SoYun led them forward. As they got closer to the herd, Anna realized the cows weren’t ringing a white boulder after all, but a sleeping bull.

  “That’s Hebert,” SoYun said. “The leader of my herd.”

  Hebert. The name struck a familiar chord in Anna, and she remembered that a year before, during the harvest festival best-in-show competition, a large energetic bull with that name had won first place. But that bull’s hide had been as black as a raven’s wing, while this one was entirely white.