A Queen Named Victory

Chapter Twenty-Four

 "You're hitting wrong. Lift like this, then strike," said Grendel, motioning with his wooden sword. He watched me mimic his movements and corrected me again, "Keep that knee bent, or you'll fall."

"Let's fight already," I sassed him. We were supposed to have fun when we sparred. Usually, he started hitting me without caring about my mistakes, but his lectures increased of late. He took advantage of my unbent knees and tripped me.

"We don't have time to waste."

"What's the big deal? I'll come back tomorrow to play with you."

Grendel looked away from me with a solemn expression.

"Right?"

We both turned in the direction of Ma's frantic calls joined by Ulf's hungry cries. Grendel grabbed my hand and said, "I have to leave for a long time. My father threatened to kill you." His father had to get in line with the rest of Emeril's idiot crew.

"I'm not pulling your leg, but I'll come back one day when I'm older."

"I'll wait, and I'll beat you next time we fight," I promised.

I shut my eyes to stop the childish tears, but when I opened them, I was alone. Did I forget to collect the bitter berries again? Or did Mama need the rabbit foot mushrooms for our evening meal?

"Sigrid!"

She dragged me farther from my siblings' hiding spot in the forest. She kneeled in front of me before she spoke, "Little wolf, listen to me carefully. From now on, you have to protect Ingrid and Ulf in my place." Her sunken eyes searched my face for strength. I wrapped my small pinky finger around her own and answered firmly, "I will."

"I trust you'll keep them safe. Raise them well. Do not let your brother eat sweets before bed and be patient with your sister. She will grow more confident as she ages. No fighting. Ever."

"Yes, Ma."

She pressed her thumbs to my temple then dragged it down the sides of my face until she stopped at my chin. "Mother wolf runs with you," she whispered. Her voice cracked mid-way through her goodbye. I placed my hands in the same position as my mother, following her lead.

"Mother wolf runs with you."

"I'm so proud of my little wolf," she lamented, then shooed me with her hands once she heard the drunken men shouting for the witch.

My mother raised her chin, straightened her shoulders, and followed the forest trail to the raging villagers. I should have returned to my siblings as she asked, but I did not. The men took turns beating her once she appeared from the forest line. They held her down with unfair strength while Father Eilif read his scripture aloud.

Beware the witch!

Curse the witch!

Women screamed while their husbands shredded my mother's dress, exposing her frail body eaten by years of sickness after the birth of my brother. I followed them from afar as they dragged her in front of the old church. Families of all ages and sizes hurled rotted foot at her. Some cursing villagers tossed horse shit over her tattered dress. Others dropped cow dung onto the road over the dirt before she passed so they could drag her through the shit trail. She once told me that she shed her last teardrops and screams after she birthed my brother. She spoke the truth. Ma looked up into the heavens with pride, and that infuriated them.

No one noticed the raggedy tear-stricken girl tottering about in the crowd. They were too focused on the spectacle they made of my mother. They nailed her to the stake and prepared for the bonfire. Why did I watch it? My legs begged to return to the safety of the forest whereas my heart demanded that I stay and memorize the face of each man, woman, and child who took part in the persecution. Piercing chills rattled my bones when I looked upon the flames and saw myself burning on the stake.

"Wake Up."

I shot up from my bed with a pounding heart. Cold hands caressed their palms to my temples.

"Blessed Mother Wolf," my mother sighed.

I thwarted her hands.

"Ma?"

Her eyes crinkled with the same raven's feet. She frowned before answering me, "You resemble her." Her. I rolled away from the woman with the hope that my sleepy daze might clear up. Time was of the essence. Ingrid and Ulf's life depended on my return.

"I-I have to get out of here."

"Perfect. I've come to retrieve you."

There were so many questions. How the hell did she get past Grendel's defenses? More importantly, what was she? The woman—who I assumed was my relative—had Mama's face. But her hands were blackened with stone-like fingertips and long bony claws. Her eyes, like my ruined eye, were endless darkened pits with milky irises.

"Explain along the way," I started before I realized the difference in my own body.

"You won't make far in this state unless you finish the shift," she said knowingly.

Blood covered my meet. Pointed nails protruded from my nailbed. The hair along my feet and legs itched terribly after thickening while I slept.

"What's happening?!" I yelled as my fingertips split to make room for pointed nails almost sharper than Grendel's.

My aunt dug into the mouth of her fox bag while effortlessly explaining my current state. Mama was not who I thought her to be. I suddenly ruled two kingdoms: Montver and an ancient race of warrior wolfwomen who recently found their precious heir to the throne. I was a royal-blooded Vanatyr.

"The teeth tend to be the most painful." She then scavenged for clean attire. "I have to get to my sister and brother." She stopped digging through my trunk with a chain top in her hands.

"Brother?!" She shook her head in disbelief. "Ylva pushed her luck for the last time. I see why she perished."

"No, she was murdered as a witch."

"Because she birthed a boy."

"She's gone. There is no changing that, so we have to work with what we get. Let's go."

She dotted on me as I hobbled down the vacant castle halls, preparing to leave. My body had a tough time adjusting to 'the shift,′ as she called it. I stopped momentarily to spit out fallen teeth followed by itchy gums. I faced twenty years of physical and magical changes at one moment (thanks to my mother's spell). Years of accumulated pain repeatedly beat my body black and blue.

"I can't go through the gates," I said, pulling my aunt in the opposite direction.

"Then how do you plan on getting out? If you have not noticed, the gates are the only way to get out of this mountain."

"Well. I figured I'd try out this new Vanatyr strength," I declared as I balled my right hand into a punch-worthy fist. Grendel's name magic prevented me from leaving the gates, but not from making my own doorway to the outer world. I vowed to protect my siblings, and I had no intention of going back on my mother's wishes.