The Winter Riddle Read online

  “I honestly don’t get it,” said Volgha. “At no point in the last several hours did you think ‘oh, well, I haven’t died of this yet, so maybe I’ll just knock off the screaming for a while.’ It must have occurred to you that I do this all the time.”

  “F-f-fear,” said Krespo, “isn’t r-r-rational.”

  “You’ve got a point there. Listen, I am sorry for that, but we had to get here quickly.”

  Krespo nodded.

  I can’t wait for the trip back!

  “Oh knock it off, Redcrow.” Volgha turned back to Krespo. “The Vikings, the frost giants, Santa, the Faesolde, even the wolves—they’re all on the march, and if we’re not ready in time, this could be a very costly battle.”

  Krespo nodded again.

  Following a swear word, Volgha said, “Krespo, snap out of it! I know the flying was scary, but I need you with me on this!”

  Krespo nodded. “A-all r-right.”

  There’s a brave little kitten.

  “We’ll go in through the secret passage near the old Tickler’s grave, but we need to move quickly. Can you walk?”

  Shutting his eyes tight, Krespo took a deep breath. He held it, let it out slowly, and opened his eyes again. He looked up at Volgha, his brow wrinkled and his eyes watery, a pleading look that plainly stated that every fiber of his being wanted very much to sit there and do nothing of the sort. But then he stood up anyway.

  “I’m w-w-with you.”

  In that fleeting moment, Volgha admired Krespo’s courage. He was a coward through and through, there was no doubt about that, but courage came easily to the brave. Cowards like Krespo fought for every ounce. He was the best sort of coward one could hope to know.

  Redcrow hopped around in the snow and cawed in a staccato sort of way, laughing at Krespo.

  “That’s the spirit, Krespo,” said Volgha. “Shut it, Redcrow.”

  You’re no fun.

  Reaching into her basket, Volgha found a little strip of dried venison. She held her other arm out and made a clicking sound with her tongue. Redcrow perched on her outstretched arm, and she fed it to him.

  Delicious, he cawed, and only slightly demeaning.

  She shut her eyes, trying to reach out to Osgrey again. She hadn’t heard from him since she and Redcrow had merged on Howling Hill. He was still with her, no doubt about it, but he was sleeping, or something very near it. She hoped he’d wake up soon.

  “Through the belfry,” she said to Redcrow. “You remember it?”

  We had our first date there, how could I forget?

  “You’re hilarious,” said Volgha, and gave him another bit of venison. “Through the belfry, find Matilda. Meet us in the pantry. Understand?”

  I’m sure I can manage. Redcrow cawed loudly and flapped his way up into the sky.

  “We’ll need to go Dim,” said Volgha. “Are you listening?”

  Krespo nodded. She dug a little pouch out of her basket and tugged at the drawstring to open it.

  “This won’t make you invisible, but as long as you don’t make any sudden moves, people will tend not to notice you. Talking to someone or making direct eye contact will break the spell, so just keep your head down and move as quietly as you can, got it?”

  Krespo nodded.

  “That’s the idea,” said Volgha. “I’ll be Dim as well, so we won’t be able to see each other. Don’t look for me, understand? Just trust that I’m there.”

  Krespo nodded. Volgha crouched down, put a hand on his chin, and turned his gaze up to meet hers.

  “I didn’t let you fall off the broom,” said Volgha, “and I won’t leave you alone, I swear it.”

  Krespo flashed just a hint of a smile. “Off we g-g-go, then.”

  “I’ll see you once we’re in the secret passages.”

  A sprinkle of powder, a quick gesture, and a bit of mumbling, and they were both alone on the great frozen plain. Volgha set her eyes on the castle and started walking.

  “I knew you’d come back!” Matilda threw her arms around Volgha. Volgha tried very hard not to recoil in discomfort. She liked Matilda, but boundaries.

  They were standing in the pantry, against the back wall between two stacks of barrels. Krespo sat against a wall, still working very hard at regaining his wits.

  Ask her if there are any anchovies in here! cawed Redcrow.

  “Later,” said Volgha.

  “Is he all right?” asked Matilda, looking at Krespo with a mixture of concern and confusion.

  “He’ll be fine,” Volgha replied. “He’s just afraid of flying. What’s happened here, is my sister still alive?”

  “She’s fine,” answered Matilda. “The tower has a passage running behind one of the walls, and I’ve found a peephole behind a sconce. I’ve checked on her every evening. She just looks drunk most of the time.”

  “That’s good,” Volgha remarked. “Not about the drinking, but Chamberlain’s not killed her. That’s something.”

  “He hasn’t killed anybody, but he’s filled the dungeons to overflowing. He’s gotten paranoid since Ghasterly’s disappearance. He thinks everyone is a loyalist sympathizer!”

  “That’s good,” said Volgha, then upon seeing Matilda’s incredulous look, hastened to add, “because paranoia will unbalance him. Don’t worry, we’ll get everyone out soon.”

  “Good,” said Matilda. “I promised them you would.”

  “Promised?”

  “I’ve been down to visit,” she said. “The guards don’t pay me any mind because I’m not an adult. Anyway, the head butler is down there—his name is Eustace—and he says he’s got everybody down there onionized.”

  “Onionized?”

  “It’s like a special club for people with jobs. He says everyone who works in the castle should join up.”

  Volgha shrugged. “That’s nice, I suppose.”

  “He says the crown needs the workers to back it, or else the whole enterprise just sort of falls apart.”

  “It does?”

  “That’s what Eustace says,” said Matilda.

  Volgha had never heard that. If her late parents and her deposed sister were to be believed, the royal family was in charge because … well, because. It was the natural order of things, like the sun rising once a year. Servants had always served. It was the root of the word! It had never occurred to her that they’d think to do otherwise, but now that Eustace had given voice to the idea, it made perfect sense to Volgha. If the servants simply stopped serving, running a castle would be more or less impossible.

  “Interesting,” said Volgha.

  “Yeah,” said Matilda, “but what do we do now?”

  “I’ve got an army on the way.”

  “The Vikings?”

  Volgha nodded. “And Santa and his elves, and the frost giants. The wolves, too.”

  “The frost giants?” Matilda’s eyes went wide. “I thought they were the enemy!”

  “Things are changing,” said Volgha. “We’ll talk about it later. Where is Chamberlain now?”

  25

  Volgha was familiar with hyperbole, even if she didn’t approve of it. When Matilda said that the dungeons were full to overflowing, Volgha suspected hyperbole. However, she hadn’t exaggerated a bit. The cells were standing room only, and new stakes had been driven into the walls so that people could be shackled in the hallways.

  She and Matilda were slowly working their way to the cell where Eustace was being held. Volgha was Dim, but Matilda was able to wander freely about. They’d left Krespo in a secret passage with a peephole into the throne room so he could keep an eye on Chamberlain. Redcrow was perched atop the belfry, watching for the motley horde of invaders to arrive. Osgrey was still asleep.

  The lower dungeons smelled awful. Not even Volgha’s brief stay in the upper dungeons could have prepared her for the squalor that they found here. Before they went, Matilda had warned her to wear well-stitched boots, hike up her skirts a bit, and avoid looking down. It had all been good advice.<
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  Eventually, they found the right cell. Matilda tugged on a man’s shirt and asked for Eustace. After several minutes of grunting and shuffling, everyone in the cell managed to shift themselves around so that Eustace could come close.

  “Hello, Matilda,” he said with as much diction and grace as he would use to greet a foreign dignitary. “I hope you’re not putting yourself in danger by coming down here, I’d hate to see you arrested.”

  “Thank you, sir. I promise I’m being careful. I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Happy to oblige, though I’m not really in a position to be very helpful at the moment.”

  “It’s very important that you keep your eyes on me,” she said. “Don’t look around, all right? It’s very important.”

  “Okay …” Eustace locked eyes with her, providing his full attention.

  “I need you to tell me about the onion,” said Matilda.

  “You mean the union?”

  “If you say so,” said Matilda. “Anyway, tell me all about it, only pretend you’ve never told me anything before. And tell me what we’d be capable of doing if everyone joined up.”

  Eustace narrowed his eyes, then shifted them to his right.

  “Look at me!” blurted Matilda. “It’s really, really important.”

  “This sounds fishy,” said Eustace.

  “I know,” Matilda replied, “and I’m sorry I can’t tell you why, but I’m asking you to trust me.”

  “Can you tell me why you can’t tell me why?”

  “Probably not. But I promise it’s not a trick or anything! I’m trying to get everyone out, and this is part of it.”

  Eustace shrugged—as well as he could at least. “All right,” said Eustace. “It’s not like they can make prison more prisony for me.”

  Without breaking eye contact, Eustace told Matilda (and Volgha) all about the benefits of unionizing the servants. Better wages, more reasonable hours, the occasional holiday—it all sounded very reasonable to Volgha, who suddenly felt rather sheepish for never having noticed that the servants just always seemed to be there. Yuletide, Saturnalia, the Feast of Saint Baffling, even the first evening of Snugglewatch—they were always there, up with the first bell and working until the last. They probably only ever saw their families if they worked together.

  “That’s amazing,” remarked Matilda. “And how many people have signed up already?”

  “Are you sure you’re not spying for Chamberlain?”

  “On my honor.” Matilda held up her hand as a sign of honor. “I’ve joined the onion myself, haven’t I?”

  “Union,” he corrected. “And yes, that’s true. Okay, it’s just about everybody down here, so … around eight hundred people?”

  “That’s a lot,” said Matilda. “And what happens in the case of a dispute between the union and the crown?”

  “Oh, that’s when the striking begins.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Well, we pick up our union clubs, and start striking anything or anyone within reach until the crown says, ‘All right, you’ve made your point, let’s discuss some terms, please.’”

  “That sounds great,” said Matilda. “If I could get everyone out of here, how quickly do you think you could organize the strike?”

  “Well we wouldn’t have official union clubs straight away,” said Eustace. “They’d have to be ordered, produced, and transported. That would probably take until sun-up. We’d have to use a union supplier, you see.”

  “That’s too long,” said Matilda. “How fast could we go without the clubs?”

  “Well,” Eustace was clearly taken aback by the question, “I suppose we could suspend article 4, section 6 of the union bylaws with a simple majority vote. We definitely have a quorum today, so it’s a simple matter of four officers agreeing to call an emergency meeting—”

  “Assuming all of that goes without a hitch,” said Matilda, “how fast?”

  “Well, straight away, I’d imagine.”

  “Good,” said Matilda. “Can you call a meeting right now? There’s a plan underway, and we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “I can,” said Eustace, “but you owe me an explanation as soon as all of this is over and done.”

  “I promise,” said Matilda. Volgha followed as she started to make her way out, and roll call began behind them.

  Our friends are on the way, cawed Redcrow. Are you sure that this is a good idea?

  “This is so exciting!” exclaimed Matilda, once they’d fetched Krespo and returned to the pantry. “Everything is falling into place. This horrible coup will be over and done before you know it!”

  “It’s not in the bag yet,” said Volgha. “As long as Chamberlain holds the throne room, he’s still in charge.”

  “And it’s full of guards,” said Krespo. “At least two hundred of them! Even if the servants had their clubs, the guards have swords. A lot of good people are going to die!”

  “Not if I can help it,” said Volgha. “Redcrow’s spotted The Really, Really Big Army headed this way. It’s only a matter of time before the war is underway.”

  I still can’t believe that’s the official name, cawed Redcrow. Really, that’s the best they could do?

  “It was short notice,” said Volgha.

  “They’ll never make it inside the castle,” said Krespo. “Santa said that himself, it’s too well-defended!”

  “They don’t have to. We just have to be patient, and strike when the time is right.”

  “And then what?” asked Matilda.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once it’s over, assuming we win, what happens then?”

  Volgha sighed. “I don’t know. We’ll have to figure it out then.”

  She wants you to take the throne, cawed Redcrow.

  “I know,” snapped Volgha, “but I don’t want it!” She looked up at Redcrow and pointed a finger at him very menacingly. “I’ll figure it out, all right? But I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, and this is just going to have to wait!”

  Just think about it, cawed Redcrow. Being the Warden and the White Queen at the same time? Honestly, I don’t know which I’m more excited about!

  “Calm yourself,” said Volgha. “I’m not keen on either of those, so don’t get any ideas!”

  You have to take at least one. It’s not fair to me otherwise!

  “Fair to you? If you think for one second—”

  “All right,” interrupted Matilda, “we can figure it out later! But it’s going to be soon.”

  “I know, you’re right,” said Volgha. “We have to find someone who’d be willing take the throne.”

  That narrows it down to everyone but you, apparently.

  “Then it shouldn’t be very difficult!”

  “This is why you’re perfect for it,” said Matilda. “You’re already a royal, and you don’t want the throne for your own glory.”

  “I’m not perfect for it,” said Volgha. “Wouldn’t the perfect person want the throne?”

  Give it to me then, cawed Redcrow. I want it.

  “That’s not the only qualification.” Volgha pinched the bridge of her nose in the vain hope it would quell her frustration.

  Well, you’ve got the rest of them, and we’re bonded for life!

  “Maybe we can choose another person after a while,” suggested Matilda, “but we can’t change too much too fast. People don’t like it. We need to restore order as soon as the war is over, and a real royal person is the best way.”

  “What about King Harald?” asked Krespo. “He’s leading the Vikings here right now, maybe he could do it?”

  Matilda shook her head. “That’s just being conquered. They’ll hate that, too.”

  They grew silent again. Volgha didn’t have any other ideas, and she really didn’t want to have to be queen. She’d renounced her claim willingly because all that she wanted to do was live in the forest and meddle with forces beyond mortal comprehension. Was that really too much to
ask?

  But Matilda might be right. Who else was there? Her sister was a horrible queen. Chamberlain might have done a good job, but between the treachery and the paranoia, he couldn’t be trusted. The people deserved a ruler who would serve something other than her or his own vanity. Who better to wear the crown than someone who wanted nothing to do with it?

  A faint thud broke the silence. Horns sounded in the distance. The Really, Really Big Army had arrived.

  26

  The waiting was the hardest part.

  There were still hundreds of people languishing in the dungeons. Redcrow showed Volgha visions of people dying on the battlefield, huge boulders being lobbed against the mighty walls of the castle, and smoke. So much smoke. The fires illuminated the atrocities of war as the fighting raged on.

  Little by little, the guards filtered out of the halls, the dungeons, and even the throne room as reinforcements were required at the front. Eventually, the dungeons held nothing but prisoners. The iron doors were barred from the outside, and they were left to their fates by the guards who’d been promoted to soldiers.

  So it was that the emaciated prisoners cheered, weakly, when the doors flung open and Volgha walked into view. She took keys from the hook by the door and handed them to Matilda and Krespo.

  “Liberation!” shouted Eustace, as shackles and gates were unlocked. “Now is the time for action, brothers and sisters. The time has come, for us—to strike!”

  A cheer went up with the level of enthusiasm one would expect from a child receiving socks as a gift.

  “Almost,” said Volgha. “The halls of the castle are mostly abandoned, it’s just us and the guards in the throne room with Chamberlain. Their strength has nearly dwindled enough for us to overpower them!”

  “And you all look like you’re starving,” remarked Matilda.

  “To the dining hall!” shouted Eustace. The suggestion was met with the enthusiasm he’d like to have gotten when he shouted for a strike. Stinking, disheveled, and delirious with hunger, the union shambled up from the dungeons. They left a filthy brown swath in their wake, with no regard given to who’d have to clean it up. That would be a decision for a new order to make, preferably after a committee of union delegates had thoroughly investigated the matter.