Charlotte looked at me curiously, and I hesitated, not sure how to put this into words. So I just blurted it out, telling her all about Loki, how he’d saved me and how I’d read messages on his phone later and ran away from him too. “And now he’s back,” I finished, “and he says he never intended to kill me, and he wants you and I to go with him. He says we’re in danger here.”

                Charlotte bit her lip. She looked like she was thinking hard, “but there’s no way to know who to trust.”

                I felt relieved. As much as I hated to drag her into my problems, it felt like a crushing weight was lifted off my chest. Someone else knew. Someone else thought the same way, worried about the same thing. Who to trust.

                She reached out and put a hand on my knee, “Look, I’m not going to pretend I like it here. The girls are just starting to be nice to me, I mean…all of them but Amy. But everyone else thinks I should be a servant, and I don’t like the way they treat the servants, and even the half-blood ‘soldiers’ like they’re less them human…well, they’re not human….but you know what I mean.  But I don’t know if this Loki is any better than anyone here. It’s your choice.”

                “So,” I said slowly, “if I did decide to go with Loki, would you come with me?”

                Charlotte smiled, “Of course I would! There’s no way in hell that I would want to stay here without you, I’d be dressed in servant clothes before I could blink.”

                I frowned, “but you just met someone, that would mean leaving him behind.”

                Charlotte’s smile faltered, and the look on her face made my stomach turn with guilt. Maybe Loki was lying, maybe we could stay here. “Look,” I said quickly, “there’s no guarantee that he’s right. Maybe…maybe the Queen is all talk, or…or Loki is just telling it from his side of the story. Maybe the fire jotun attacked the frost and he just didn’t mention it. Anyways, I’m not about to go charging off with him just because he asked me. I don’t feel like I’m in any danger.” That wasn’t quite true, but Charlotte looked visibly more relaxed. She said, “I just don’t think we should make any snap decisions.  I mean, if we have to leave, of course I’ll come with you, but I don’t think we should charge off without knowing all the facts.”

                “Of course not,” I smiled reassuringly, “I have to think about it anyways. I’m really confused about the whole thing.”

                “I don’t blame you,” Charlotte slid off the bed and went to dig around in the drawers across the room, pulling out a silky white night gown, “How come every piece of clothing is white or grey?” She complained. I could tell she was keeping her voice light, trying to joke so that I'd stop looking so worried. I faked a smile.

                It was difficult falling asleep that night. I lay staring up at the underside of the dark canopy, thoughts whizzing through my head at incredible speeds. Listening to Charlotte’s deep even breathing. The turmoil inside me only seemed to be growing. Loki had been given orders to kill me by his father. He denied he was ever going to. But he was smooth and charming, he’d be able to lie easily if he wanted to. But what if he was telling the truth? Why had everyone lied to me about Amora, or at least, left out some of the truth?  Why was my dream about dying repeating itself, and why did it seem different the second time? Everything was utterly confusing, it was frightening.

                Telling myself to shut my eyes and breath deep helped a little bit. I tried shutting down my body, telling all my muscles to relax an inch at a time, trying to concentrate on something else. Anything to keep my mind from buzzing with constant worry. Gradually I could feel myself slipping into sleep, random words and pictures whizzing past, as they tend to do when you’re falling down the rabbit hole into the world of dreams.

                The ground beneath my back is hard as I lie dying, the blood leaching from the wound in my chest, the breath leaving my lungs in wheezing gasps. The Queen’s white face looms, ruby red lips forming words. When I make them out they’re not what I expect to hear. She doesn’t speak to me, telling me she loves me. Instead, foreign words fall from her lips, venomous sounds that drip from her like the blood that dots the snow around my body. Snow….snow around my body…no. I look down and I’m lying on black tiles. The floor of a palace. The blue sky blurs above me, turning into a vaulted ceiling.

                The Queen’s voice is like the drone of bees, constant and steady. Distantly ominous. The words fill me from the inside out, making my bones ache. The air is full of static and the picture in front of me keeps moving, changing…the fabric of the world is reforming. I blink, feeling the room tilt and now I’m standing up on my feet, the wound in my chest is gone, leaving me whole once again.

                Again the room blurs. Now I stand in a huge stone hall, oak tables hold a feast and a roaring fire casts cheery orange light on the faces around me. But there is no celebration going on, not any longer. The prisoners of war stand clustered together at the end of the vast hall, surrounded by tall white warriors, the spears of my people leveled at them. Their faces are frightened, dirt smudged and tear -stained. They are only women and children, old and young. Holding one another, the old sheltering the young.

                The black walkie hisses with static as I relay a message to my Queen, “ We have the prisoners collected in their great hall. What is your command?”

                The Queen’s voice hisses and pops with static, but it still comes through cold and clear as a glacier stream, “There are no prisoners.”

                My hand falters, and I lower the walkie. There are no prisoners. Her intent is clear. I am to kill all these woman and children. Not in a battle, not in a fight for my life with another warrior bent on killing me, but in a cold blooded fashion. Right now, I am to order my soldiers to thrust their spears into every woman and child standing before me. Studying their faces I am caught in the gaze of one little girl, a curly haired urchin with wide brown eyes. She is one of the only children who isn’t crying. When I step towards her she does not flinch back. Her skin is hot under my fingers when I reach out and brush my hand across her cheek. She does not shrink back an inch, just staring up at me with huge, solemn eyes.

                Turning from her abruptly I snap at my soldiers, “In ten minutes time I have orders to raze this city to the ground. We will use their fire to burn it and bring it down rock by rock. Lift your spears and come with me, we start the destruction on the east end.” I ignored the prisoners completely, who were murmuring to one another, “Soldiers come with me, all of you.”

                They’re well trained, and not one of them pauses or questioned me, despite the fact that they had all clearly heard the Queen’s words through the walkie. They follow me down the hallways, feet tramping in unison, leaving the prisoners, giving them time. My heart is in my throat. I have disobeyed my Queen.

                The alarm jerked me awake, and at first I stumbled out of bed, frantic. I let the prisoners go, what will the Queen do to me? Then reality gradually kicked in around me, and I realized it was a dream, and slumped back onto the bed with a groan. What had just happened? I had that dream again, about dying for the Queen, but it had changed abruptly. It was almost as if the original dream had…broke down.  Shorted out or something. It had been replaced by something different. What was going on exactly? I sat there and thought about it until my brain hurt.

                Okay, I’d had one version of how Amora died, but it had “broken” for lack of a better word, and another dream had popped up, one that had shown me that Amora hadn’t died during battle. Instead she had lead them in breaching the city. She had still been alive and calling the shots when the battle was over. What did that mean? And what were the words the Queen had been chanting? They’d faded away when the room had blurred and I’d been taken to the other dream. Had the first dream been a fake? Something was very wrong here. I tucked my knees up to my chest and glared at the ground, my brain was working so fast I could swear I could smell it over heating. Smoke would probably be coming out my ears soon.  That dream matched the story that Loki had told me.

                The thought made my chest feel a little lighter. He’d been telling me the truth. I was happy that he hadn’t been lying, but did that mean the rest of what he’d said was true? Was the Queen evil? Was I in danger here? The words of the dream Queen rang in my head, There are no prisoners. It felt like I’d swallowed a sack of rocks. Those were not the actions of a kind and gentle ruler. That was the behavior of a tyrant. I wished that I’d continued to dream, to see what had happened. Had the Queen been angry that her daughter had disobeyed her? What had happened after that? Maybe I wasn’t safe here, and maybe Loki was right about the story of Amora, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lying about other things. I wouldn’t be any safer in the fire kingdom. Should I try to strike out on my own, brave the surrounding snow laden woods? Drag Charlotte down with me?

                I’m so tired of running. Tears were collecting in my eyes, so I shut them, feeling the liquid trickle down my cheeks. This isn’t fair. I can’t think, I’m confused.

                When I opened my eyes the neon blur of the alarm clock caught my attention. It was nearly eight. I swore under my breath, and ran over to the drawers, flinging clothes around as I looked for a suitable battle practice outfit. I would have to do without a shower this morning. I refused to give Lief a reason to get on my case further. I settled on a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of black divided skirts that flowed around my legs. Looping an elastic around my hair as I pushed out the double doors and into the hallway, I made sure to speed walk all the way there. Luckily the halls were totally empty, which was great. There was no way I felt like running into Edda again. It was too early in the morning to deal with her crap. I listened to my feet tap and echo in the icy corridor, trying to allow the sound to drive out all my confusing thoughts. I needed to get through battle practice, then I would have time to think.

                I pushed the training room door open. Automatically my stomach dropped at the sound of clashing swords and shouting. I wished it wasn’t that way, I wished I could associate the sound of practice with something good, but all I could think of was an hour with Lief. That was why I was so surprised when Erik came to meet me at the door. His blonde hair was freshly washed, and he was dressed in a leather jerkin and chainmail. He gave me a broad grin,

                “I talked to the Queen. Guess who’s giving you sword lessons from now on?”

                “No way,” the stones in my stomach were slowly vanishing, “that’s amazing!” In spite of the fact that my mind was still whirring away trying to figure everything out, I felt about ten pounds lighter. Not having to deal with Lief on top of everything was a huge relief.

                Erik hefted the sword in his hand, a broad sword nearly identical to Lief’s, “I’m sure you’ll find lessons to be much better now,” he grinned, “all ready?”

                “Absolutely,” I trailed after him, and was surprised to spot Lief on the far side of the room. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling at me, “What’s his problem?” I said to Erik, “I would have thought he’d be ecstatic to be rid of me.”

                “He got some news this morning,” Erik smiled grimly. Once we were in the corner of the room and out of earshot of everyone he took me by the shoulders gently, “The Queen said to let you know as well, but you must not tell anyone what I’m about to say to you. We'll be telling people soon, but for now only the Queen’s generals know.”

                “What?” My mouth felt dry. I was sure that whatever he was about to tell me couldn’t be good.

                “There’s a reason she allowed me to take over your training,” he said in a low voice, “I told her that I didn’t think Lief was doing a proper job of it, and you needed the best training in the next two weeks.”

                “Next two weeks?” I repeated dumbly.

 Erik nodded, he looked as though he were stealing himself, straightening his back and taking a deep breath, “the plans are laid. We advance on our enemies in two weeks time.”

The rocks in my stomach were back, and it was an effort to push air in and out of my lungs. Two weeks. We were attacking in just two weeks. “And I’m…she still wants me…” I couldn’t seem to spit the words out.

Erik’s face was grave, “She wants you to lead the army.”

I was having real trouble breathing now. The room seemed to blur a little, and I blinked frantically. This couldn’t be happening, “I can’t…” I gasped, “I can’t…”

Erik had been studying my face, and now he put one finger up to his lips, eyes darting around the room.  “Look, don’t worry.” He whispered, “trust me. Act like everything is normal. We’ll have our practice. Go have lunch and then I’ll meet you in the library like usual.” His blue eyes drilled into mine, “just relax. Everything will be okay.”

What did that mean? Did he just mean that me leading everyone into battle would be okay? That it would magically turn out all good? I would know how to kill people? Maybe I’d just flip over into Amora mode and start slashing heads off left and right. What effect would that have on the Megan part of me? The real part of me….

It was hard, but for the rest of practice I tried to do what Erik had said and act like everything was perfectly normal. It was unnerving, because whenever I darted a look over at Lief I would find him watching me. He didn’t even look away when I caught him, he would just glare harder. What was he even doing there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, didn’t he have anything better to do? He was really that pissed off that I was leading everyone into battle? I would have surrendered that spot to him in a heartbeat. I wish I could refuse, but somehow I couldn’t see the Queen being really good about that.

“You’re distracted,” Erik said, raising his voice over the sound of our swords crashing together.

“Sorry,” I said loudly, and gave him a weak smile.

He swept his sword up to counter as I swung at his left hip and shouted, “I understand you have a lot on your mind. It’s remarkable though, you still match me blow for blow. It’s like you could do this without even really noticing.”

“I guess it’s Amora,” I yelled.

He frowned, “You don’t look happy about it.”

There was a pause in the clattering noises as Erik danced backwards, and I thought for a few seconds before admitting, “I feel like she’s taking over me a little bit at a time. It’s sort of eerie. I’m dreaming a lot. Really weird dreams,” it was dangerously close to the truth, and I studied his face carefully as I said it. If I did have false dreams implanted in me, was it possible that he knew about it?

Erik’s face was blank, far too blank. He said, “What sort of dreams?”

“Battle dreams,” I shrugged. He was obviously being close mouthed, so I would be too. Now I really wasn’t sure if I could trust him or not. It was disappointing.

We didn’t say anything else. The rest of the practice was mostly silent, except for Erik correcting me about little things here and there, stance and such. Finally we were both exhausted and dripping with sweat. Erik shook his head, admiration plain on his face,

“You’re incredible, I can’t believe you’re at this level after so little training.”

“It’s not me,” I muttered, “it’s Amora. It’s like I’m not even in my body.” I shrugged, and admitted something I hadn’t even wanted to tell myself, “it feels good though. Natural. I think her love of it is really taking over as soon as I get a sword in my hand.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Erik said, “you’re ready for battle.”

It wasn’t consolation at all. Two weeks. That was way too soon. I remembered Loki, disguised, waiting for me in the servant’s quarters, begging me to come back with him. His people would be attacked in two weeks’ time. Did I tell him, making myself a traitor to the frost kingdom? Two weeks was all I had to decide who the bad guy was.  Great, just great.

“Lunch,” Erik reminded me, “and then I’ll see you in the library.”

I nodded distractedly. Lunch was the last thing on my mind right now.