Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 52: We Sail at Dawn

She had to be dreaming.

Isolde lowered the candle. The goddess was a shadow against the snow-covered trees, her golden hair shimmering like frosted berries. Isolde gritted her teeth. Her forehead gave a single pulse, casting violet light over the midnight snow. She didn't need to raise a hand to know that the mark was warm.

"You're not real," Isolde said.

Lestia's smile grew. "Well, I'm not corporeal, no." She held out a hand to the sky, and stars glimmered through it. "I can't remain in this world for long."

Isolde's heart hammered. "Why do I know you?"

Lestia dropped her hand. "I think you know the answer to that."

"You left me," Isolde said. "Outside the convent."

The goddess inclined her head. "I did."

A terrifying thought occurred to her. "You're not..."

Isolde couldn't bring herself to say it. Lestia gave a tinkling laugh, the shape and texture of winter sleigh bells. "Your mother? Oh, gracious, no." The goddess waved a hand, and the gesture was oddly human. "That would be impossible. No, I took you from some sleeping mortals in the next village over. Terrible inconvenience, but it had to be done."

Isolde's grip tightened on the candle. "You took me."

"Yes," Lestia said.

"From my parents," Isolde repeated.

The goddess gave an elegant shrug. "I saw your destiny. You were never meant to remain in a small village, child. I was simply speeding things along."

Isolde wasn't sure what was more bizarre: having a twenty-something woman call her child, or the nonchalance with which Lestia was discussing child abduction. "Where are they now? My parents?"

"Dead, I'm afraid," Lestia said. "Part of Halson's gassings. They didn't suffer much, if that's what you want to know." The goddess tilted her head, her eyes the colour of silver coins in the moonlight. "I've angered you."

Isolde looked away. Her heart was a trapped bird in her chest, fluttering so fast that she might be sick. The fact that Lestia could speak so calmly about ripping away her childhood, as if it was as easy as pulling an errant weed from its bed... She touched the ring at her throat, letting the icy metal steady her. Julian, she thought. I wish you were here.

But he wasn't.

It was just her, now.

Isolde raised her chin. "What do you want?"

"The better question," Lestia said, "is what do you want?"

That answer was easy. "I want to kill Halson Dolphenberg."

Lestia's smile was approving, as if Isolde was a child that had finally counted to ten. "I thought you might say that. Listen to me closely, then. You must venture south, to the place where it all began. A castle of ravens and lakes." The goddess's outline flickered. "Your enemies grow stronger by the day; you must be quick."

"South?" Isolde repeated warily.

"Yes."

Isolde blew hot air into her hands. If there was one thing the goddess could work on, she thought, it was her choice of meeting location. "I don't suppose you could give me an actual place."

"Ready your men," Lestia said. "The time is now."

The goddess vanished. Isolde turned in a circle, letting her candlelight spill over the snow, but Lestia had left nothing behind. Not even footsteps.