Silver Rose

A Chance

“Urk… urk…”

The gurgles were an annoying sound keeping him from sleep. The coldness had left him and was replaced by soothing warmth. Zander liked how it felt. He was cozy and drowsy. It was too bad he couldn’t close his eyes, but at least it was dark. He hadn’t had a good night’s rest in ages. He was ready for the deep slumber to overtake him.

Wet. Wet. Warm wetness all over his face.

“Stay awake!” A gruff voice ordered.

His face. It felt hot, then cold. He blinked his eyes. Something lay on his back again. He felt its body moving up and down like it was breathing hard. It reminded him of a dog sitting on his lap. A moment later, burning heat surged through his body. In the next moment it was replaced by coldness.

“Hurry,” the gruff voice ordered.

Zander coughed. He moved his legs, then his arms, and sat up. He coughed again.

“What are you doing?”

“I—I can barely… breath…” Zander coughed.

Out of the swirling snow, a white animal put its paws on his chest. Searing heat shot out through his torso. When it dissipated, he took a deep breath. The animal fell down on all fours. Zander looked at it and jumped up. It was a wolf! He fumbled for a weapon. Grabbing the short sword, he swung at the beast. The wolf leaped out of the way. Then it jumped up and grabbed the sword with its teeth. Surprised, Zander loosened his grip. The wolf pulled the sword out of his hand and tossed it aside. Zander pulled out a dagger. The wolf shook its head.

“Oh, please,” the wolf said. “If I meant you harm, I would have done it before I unfroze you.”

“You—unfroze me? A wolf?” Zander asked.

“Yes,” said the wolf. “Now go get Lanquor!”

“Who?”

“The one who froze you. The one who’s trying to kill Marina.”

“Marina?”

“The princess, you fool!” The wolf yelled. “Hurry!”

“Right,” Zander gripped his dagger. He looked around. All he saw was snow. “Where?”

“Take out the other dagger.”

“Which one?”

“The silver one.”

Snow’s dagger. Zander put the other one back and pulled hers out of its sheath. The green markings on the blade glowed.

“It will lead you to him,” the wolf said.

“What? How?” Zander looked down at the wolf, but he was gone. The dagger shook in his hands. Some force whirled him completely around. The dagger glowed brighter than before. Taking a deep breath, Zander walked in that direction.

The snow seemed to lessen and the glow from the dagger lit his way. He could feel the weapon gently pulling him forward. He moved faster. The snow softly crunched under his feet. Ahead of him he saw a dark figure. He slowed his pace. The figure was slowly walking. The dagger pulled at him.

“I know,” he whispered to it.

It must be who the wolf was talking about—Lanquor. He was carrying something. Zander moved a couple steps forward. The wind blew Lanquor’s cloak back. An arm hung down at his side. Zander shivered. He knew whom the arm belonged to. Who was this Lanquor? What did he want with them? Zander shook his head. This wasn’t the time for questions. The dagger suddenly became heavy. He looked down. It still glowed green, but instead of a dagger, he held a sword. He stared at it for a moment. What kind of magic…? There was no way Snow was getting this back! He gripped the hilt. Hopefully, she was only frozen.

He lifted the sword and ran toward Lanquor. The green glow engulfed him as he reached the black clad man. He swung. The sword slashed Lanquor’s back. He screamed. Snow fell from his arms. Zander swung up. The sword cut his back again. Lanquor tripped over Snow’s body and fell. He didn’t move. Zander lifted his arms up to stab the man. Lanquor turned around with his right arm outstretched. His skin was pale as the snow, but his eyes blazed bright yellow like fire. Zander’s arms stopped halfway down. Lanquor snarled. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Vanished in thin air. Zander stared at the bloody indention in the snow where Lanquor had lain.

“Good.”

Zander turned and saw the wolf sitting next to him.

“His powers have waned for a bit,” the wolf said. “The storm has stopped.”

The storm indeed had stopped. The wolf stood and sniffed at Snow. Zander kneeled next to her.

“Is she alive?” He asked the wolf.

“Yes,” the wolf answered. “He tried strangulation, then freezing. Turn her over.”

Zander grabbed her arm and turned her from her side to her front. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. She looked like she was sleeping, but she didn’t seem to be breathing. The wolf placed his paws on her stomach.

“I don’t think Lanquor was trying to kill her,” the wolf said.

“Why not?” Zander asked. Lanquor had tried to kill him! Did she get all the luck?!

The wolf looked at him.
“I’m sure it was for no good reason.”

Zander nodded. Of course not. He hadn’t known Lanquor long, but he already knew his first instinct was death. If he didn’t give death immediately, then he had a purpose. And death would follow the fulfillment of that purpose.

“You are wiser than I was,” the wolf said. “I foolishly went into a world I knew nothing about and believed in my own wisdom. And for that folly, we have paid dearly.”

A flash of anger glistened in his eyes.

“But we are no longer deceived,” he said. “And it is time for the enemy to pay for his evils.”

“Yes,” Zander agreed. “That is what I am here for. To make the DeLaney’s pay for what they did to my country.”

The wolf pulled his lip back, showing his sharp teeth. Zander had almost forgotten he was an animal. His heart skipped a beat. He wondered where he had put the dagger.

“I’ve always believed Falroy was the last good one of the DeLaney line,” the wolf said. “Tallon was close, but he was misled. After him there has barely been anything worth sticking around for. Nothing but power seeking wolves, the whole lot of them.”

The wolf barked in what seemed to be a kind of laughter. Zander grinned. Power seeking wolves was a good description, although, Zander now believed, it was an insult to real wolves.

“And yet,” the wolf said, looking down at Snow, “there is always hope.” He moved down to her face and lowered his nose to her ear. “Breathe, daughter.” He said.

Snow gulped in a deep breath. She exhaled shakily and inhaled deeply again. After a few moments her breathing became soft, rhythmic.

“From what I can gather,” the wolf said, “Lanquor put a strangulation spell on her to stop her breathing. Then he froze her insides to keep her alive. Which was different from the Freezing Death he put on you.”

Snow lay on the ground, now breathing, but still sleeping. Everything was quiet. His father’s favorite time of day was before the dawn, while everyone still slept. It was quiet. No one was demanding your time. You could think. You could just be. He had adopted his father’s ritual and used that time to plot against Brovan. His plans seemed to be going awry. But then again…he had several daggers and the princess lay before him…

“It won’t change anything,” the wolf said.

“What?” Zander asked, startled.

“Taking her life,” the wolf said, “won’t change anything.”

Zander dug his nails into his palms.
“How did you--?!”

“Once it’s over, everything will be the same as it was before. Only she’ll be gone. You can kill every person in Brovan if you want. That won’t change the hurt of your people or yourself.”

“I don’t hurt.”

“We are alike, you and I,” said the wolf. “Either satisfied or angry. That is how we think. It is all right, but we can get carried away. So satisfied, we don’t see the small things that need to be corrected. So angry, we don’t see the good that is happening around us. A leader, a being, needs to be in the middle. Content with what is good, and willing to change what needs to change. Angry at injustice, but not blinded by it.
“Clear your mind, my son. What will you do when your mission is completed? What will your purpose be then?”

“That’s a long time. This is now. What I’m doing is for the present!”

“What you’re doing is for the past!”

“You don’t understand. My people need this.”

“Do they? Or do you?”

“Mmmm…” Snow moaned.

The wolf looked up into the cloudy sky. A breeze blew about them that sent a chill to the bones.

“I wouldn’t concern myself with what was,” said the wolf. “No, your people, all of your people, should look toward what can and will be.”

Zander had no idea what the wolf was speaking of. He was concerned with what “would be”. What would be the future of Chasilin? Victory. Victory over the Brovanians. Another cool breeze blew around his body. He shivered.

“We’ve bought a little time, but Lanqour will recover quickly.” Said the wolf.

Zander shook his head.
“How do you know all this? You’re a wolf! You’re not even supposed to be able to talk!”

The wolf laughed.
“Don’t you know that old saying: ‘Appearance is deceptive, but the heart is true’? There are many things in this world that aren’t what they seem. You’d do good to learn that quickly, especially in this time.”

“Oooo…Oooo…” Snow groaned, shifting her position.

The wolf stood on all four legs. He sniffed the air.
“Leave this place,” he ordered, “as fast as you can. Lanquor may be down at the moment, but his people are not.”

“But I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Zander said.

“I know,” said the wolf. “I’d like to tell you more, but I do not know who may be listening. We will meet again, and when we do, I will tell all.”

The wolf turned to leave.

“Wait,” Zander called, standing, his chains clinking together.

The wolf turned back.
“A wolf’s appearance, but the heart of an elf. And that dagger belongs to me. Take good care of it, I’ll want Gittel back when I return to my true self.”

He turned to leave again, then looked back.
“When she awakens, wish for your chains to fall off. Then leave.”

That said, the wolf ran off into the night. Zander heard the flapping of wings and a “Caahaa!” Then silence. The silence was heavy, unnatural. One that Zander knew should not be upon a palace bustling with people. Or at least, it ought to be a palace bustling with people. He’d only been outside when he was taken to or from the dungeon. The dungeon! He was still considered a prisoner and the chains on his wrists wouldn’t help him escape.

Snow suddenly gasped. She rolled over on her stomach. Then she leaped to her feet and spun around in a desperate search. He knew who she was looking for. He stood motionless. There was still a chance… Chasilin could begin its march to victory at that very moment. He reached down to his belt; felt the cold metal against his palm. He wrapped his hand around the other dagger. She didn’t seem to see him. Snow bent down. He pulled his weapon out and took a step towards her. She picked something off the ground. He took another step, another step, another step. Why was he breathing so hard? He swallowed. He had to do this. Snow was examining whatever she’d picked up. Her back was to him. He’d go for her neck. Grab her hair, pull her head back, and slice her throat. She’d be dead before she knew… what he’d done. He couldn’t breath. He stopped at her crouched body. A shaking hand reached down to her dark hair. It stopped. The top strands of her hair tickled his fingertips. He had to. He’d be a fool not to take this chance. Still, his hand trembled just barely above her head. He made a promise on his father’s grave. Besides, she wasn’t Snow White. She was Marina DeLaney. Princess of Brovan. Daughter of King Elvert. He’d made a promise. And what would cause King Elvert more anguish than the death of his child? He steadied his hand. This was for Chasilin, this was for his father, this was for—

He grabbed a fistful of hair. She cried out. He kneeled on one knee behind her, sliding the dagger’s blade against her throat. He felt her rapid breathing against his chest.

“I have to do this,” he whispered.

He wasn’t supposed to talk to her! He needed to just do it. Despite the cold, he felt sweat bead on his forehead. He pressed the blade harder.

“Hurry up,” she said.

She wasn’t going to fight?

“Don’t you value your life?” He asked.

“I’ve out run death all day,” she answered. “I don’t have the strength to go any further. If this is my fate, then let death win.”

“Fight me!” He ordered through clenched teeth.

She had to fight! If she let him—then—

“No!” Her voice sounded hoarse. “Just kill me.”

Kill. “It won’t change anything,” he heard the wolf say. Yes, it will. There would be one less DeLaney in the world. One less threat. She was shaking. A small shaking woman was a threat to him? But she could become one. She could… she could… His hands trembled. She was her father’s daughter.

“Death wins.” Her voice whispered.

He remembered that night, 11 years ago. He saw King Elvert walked over to his father at the banquet table to embrace each other. King Elvert took out a knife and stabbed his father while they still hugged. He saw men jumping up. Chasilian men rushing to his father’s aid. Brovanian men drawing their weapons, attacking anyone who tried to get near King Elvert. He heard his mother screaming. He saw Prince Sebastian leap on the table, sword drawn. He was so scared, but he saw fear in the prince’s eyes too. The prince pulled his arm back to stab him. Zander watched in frozen terror. The blade rushed at him. He waited for it. Then something pushed in front of him. It cried out in pain. The chair tumbled back and they crashed to the floor—all three of them. For a while he was pinned beneath the bodies. Then they were pulled off. He rolled away, catching his breath. When he looked back, he saw the prince sobbing. In his arms was the Brovanian queen. She was stabbed in the chest. She kept saying, “Is he alive? Is he alive?” Blood poured out of her breast onto her blue dress, onto the stone floor. Her breath was labored. He crawled over to her. She saw him and smiled. “Good,” she said. Then she gasped and her body went limp. The prince cried out and lifted her into his arms. He ran off into the chaotic crowd.

He’d forgotten that. He never knew what happened to her, if she’d died or went into shock. Bertram said she’d died two years later. So she lived, for a while. His hand loosened on the princess’s hair. When the prince charged at him, the queen pushed Zander back, and threw herself in front of him. He could kill King Elvert’s child, but he couldn’t kill Queen Safie’s.

He pulled the blade away from Snow’s neck. His face dropped into her hair. She took his hand into hers. He felt her fingers gently pry the dagger from his grip. It dropped to the ground with a soft thud.

So, it was over. Chasilin would not be avenged by Marina DeLaney’s death. He sighed into her hair. It was just well. Her death would not have gotten rid of King Elvert or his son. They were whom he truly wanted. He let her go and stood up. He needed to find a way out of there. The stable was a few yards away. How did he miss it before? He stumbled toward it. Maybe the groomsman readied Majestic. He could take the horse and ride off before Marina had the chance to call for help. She wouldn’t hesitate to have him hauled away and executed. He tried to run, but the ice was too slippery. Besides, his eyes were wet and blurry. He trudged on as quickly as he could without losing his balance.

“Zander. Wait!”

The stable door was only a few feet away. He kept going.

“Zander! I command you to halt!”

He wiped his nose on his sleeve. He may not have had the courage to take her life, but he wasn’t cowardly enough to obey her orders. She grunted behind him. He reached the stable and put his hand on the door. Nothing was stopping him from getting out of here.

“Zander.” She put her hand on his arm.

He clenched his jaw and faced her.

“I ought to have you hanged on the highest gallows,” she said.

“Do whatever your law tells you to,” Zander said. “But I’ll fight to the end.”

He pulled the door open an inch. She pushed it closed again.

“I wasn’t finished,” she said. “I ought to have you hanged, but—“

He didn’t have to listen to this. He turned away. He’d walk out of this place. She grabbed his arm, making him face her again.

“But,” she continued, “I’m not going to. I won’t tell a soul.”

He pulled his arm out of her grip.
“Why?” He asked. Was she really that stupid?

“I don’t want to be a cowardly vulture,” she said.

“What?”

“Earlier, in the stable, you said that all DeLaney’s are alike. All of us are mean, stupid, cowardly vultures,” she said. “When that man, monster, whatever he is took me, I could still think. I could hear too. I don’t know what we did to you or your people. Before a few months ago, I didn’t even know we did bad things to our people. I thought everyone was happy.” Her voice softened. “But they’re not. I tried to forget all that when I returned home. Then I saw you in chains and I regretted… I could have been doing something in the time I’ve been here. I doubt I could change the mind of my father, but maybe my brother could be swayed a little. It’s not right for a lady to dirty herself in politics… still I could have tried.”

He didn’t have any words to say in the silence that followed. He let it swim between them.

“I, um,” she began. “I’m sorry you were arrested. I sort of knew about it, but—“

“You knew?”

She blushed.
“Yes. Aunt Jassey wrote me, and so did your friend Ren Salib. But I burned the letters and forgot about it the same day. I figured if you were in jail, I didn’t have to worry about the vow I made.”

“So you were going to let me die?!”

“You were going to kill my family and my people. Besides, I didn’t know if you’d keep your part of the bargain once you found out who I was. It was better to be safe, than sorry.”

“Well, I didn’t keep it,” he said. “Now, what will you do?”

She shrugged.
“I’m still alive,” she said. “You’re still alive. I think we should start over.”

“Start over? What do you mean?”

“Let the past be in the past. We can’t erase what we know, but let all the actions we’ve done, good or bad, be forgotten. Please. I want to prove that I can be an honorable person.”

It sounded all right, but what would he be getting out of it?

“Besides,” she continued, “we’re the only ones who know about that Lanquor person. I heard everything the wolf said to you. So you know that he’s dangerous. As one of my first acts of redemption, I want to be rid of him and Renata. The eagle told me to go to Talis, and I’ll get help there. And if you’ll help me to get there, I’ll give you this.”

She pulled her dagger from her belt. It must have been what she’d pick up from the ground. The wolf had told him to take care of it, and Zander wanted it. He wanted it almost as much as he wanted King Elvert’s head on a stake. And going to Talis would give him the chance to stop by Wedimell. Then he could dump the girl and go on about his business. And he’d keep the dagger.

“All right,” he said, smiling. “I’ll help you get to Talis.”

He reached out for the dagger.

“And find the eagle and the wolf there?” She added, pulling her hand back from him.

“And find the eagle and the wolf,” he agreed quickly. “But that’s all, right?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. She stared down at the dagger. “This is Galcon’s dagger.” She said solemnly. “Galcon was the first DeLaney to rule Brovan. This dagger has been thought lost for almost 400 years. It was buried at his grave. The wolf showed me. Don’t let anything happen to it.”

She handed the dagger to him. He took it; flipped it over in his hands. Galcon DeLaney’s dagger. He should be repulsed, but he actually felt proud. The wolf said the dagger belonged to him. Maybe Galcon stole it from him. Zander sheathed the dagger. He looked up at Marina.

“Let’s get over to Talis,” he said.