“Put me down,” I whispered to Gale. “I want to get a better look.”
The Wind Spirit lowered me gently. Once on the ground, I crept closer to the camp, using the trees for cover. The place was bustling with activity. Men and women of varying hair and skin colors stood at attention, dressed in identical green outfits, long sheathed swords hanging from their belts, burnished metal shields held at the ready. Soldiers, I supposed. There were also everyday citizens dressed in colorful embroidered vests and dresses. The cloth was so fine, I wanted to walk up and run it through my fingers to see what it would feel like.
It was then that I noticed the red cloak hanging from a rope stretched across two trees, alongside other clothes, probably hung out to dry. The need to run my hands over the bright, colorful cloth washed over me and, before I thought it through, I motioned for Gale to grab it and bring it to me. A moment later, the spirit dropped the cloak into my arms. I ran my hand against the finely woven fabric, watching as it slipped through my fingers like gossamer. How did they make it this soft?
Inspired, I slipped the cloak onto my shoulders, pulling the hood low over my face. Then I glanced at my reflection in a nearby stream. I looked like one of them now. A sudden idea took hold, and stuffing my shawl into a knothole in a nearby old oak, I grinned conspiratorially at Gale.
Time to explore.
I slipped into the camp, feeling as if I’d stepped into another world. The fancy tents were even more elaborate up close—gigantic pavilions with massive rooms containing actual beds and tables and chairs that looked to be hewn of the finest oaks. How had they carried all this up through the forest? And more important, why would they bother?
I shook my head, confounded as I continued to explore the camp. Suddenly I came across a group of women in simple homespun dresses and aprons, chattering as they carried baskets full of fruits and vegetables over to a long row table.
“I can’t believe we’re really here!” I heard one of them say. “It’s so magical!”
“Magical?” scoffed another. “This forest is filthy! Get me back to civilization as soon as possible!”
“You just want to get back to Stephen,” teased another. “The two of you complain endlessly when you’re apart.”
The second woman grinned. “All I can say is he’d better be working on our love spoon! I’m not planning to wait forever, you know!”
The trio broke out into giggles as they set the baskets on the table, then turned around for another batch. I ducked to keep out of sight, popping into a nearby vacant tent.
Empty of people. But full of food.
I stared wide-eyed at the feast piled high on the table. The smells surrounded me even as I feasted on the sight with my eyes. Puffy loaves of steaming dark brown bread, plates of rich meat soaked in gravy, smoky chunks and slices of various fish, earthy potatoes, roasted vegetables, and…
What were those dark brown blocks near the desserts at the very end?
Unable to resist, I snuck a delectable chunk and shoved it in my mouth. The sweetness practically exploded on my tongue as I closed my eyes in rapture.
Suddenly, I heard voices outside the tent. I froze.
“There you are, Agnarr,” someone barked. “What did I tell you about running off like that?”
I froze. Agnarr? The boy from earlier? I dared peek outside the tent to get a better look. Sure enough, there he was, still dressed in his bright green suit. But he was no longer smiling. Instead, he was hanging his head, appearing ashamed. A tall, robust-looking man with a big blond mustache towered over him.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Agnarr murmured, shuffling his feet. “I just…wanted to look around a little. It feels so…magical here.”
His father’s face grew beet red. “Magic,” he spat. “Agnarr, what have I told you about magic? Nothing good comes from magic. It is to be feared, not admired.”
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Agnarr murmured, still not looking his father in the eye. “I just—”
But his father waved him off, dismissing him without so much as a goodbye. Instead, he stormed over to the soldiers gathered at the head of the camp. “Are you ready?” he asked. “For the…festivities?” He laughed at this, but somehow the laughter didn’t sound real. It was harsh. Bitter. Almost threatening in tone. I frowned, a strange feeling worming through my stomach. What he said hadn’t been wrong. But there was something about the way he said it….
I turned my attention back to Agnarr. He was watching his father with a look of unhappiness. And maybe a little…loneliness?
My heart tugged at the sight. I knew all too well what it was like to feel alone. Even when surrounded by so many others.
I watched as a new man approached. This one was wearing the same uniform as the other soldiers and had dark skin and kind eyes. Agnarr looked up at him and I saw his face brighten. Whoever this man was, he was a friend. I couldn’t catch what they were saying, but I could tell they were joking around; the somber mood was lifting.
The call of horns broke through the air, announcing the official start of the feast. Everyone in the camp erupted into excited chatter and rushed toward the sound, arms laden with trays of food and other baskets and boxes, presumably gifts of some kind.
Now no longer nearby the others, I was able to sneak out of the tent—after taking a second helping of the sweet brown blocks, obviously—and head in the direction of the celebration.
I was halfway there when I realized I’d left my shawl in the tree and was still wearing the borrowed Arendellian cape. I slipped the cape off my shoulders and hung it on a nearby tree branch; if the elders caught me wearing something so unfamiliar, they might question why. I considered going back to get my shawl, but in the end decided against it. It would still be there when I returned later, and I didn’t want to be late for the feast.
“Gale, take me to the celebration,” I whispered. In a moment I was up in the air, swirling in the gusts, twirling among the leaves. The air tickled my flushed cheeks and I couldn’t help laughing out loud. And who could blame me? It was a glorious thing, dancing with the wind.
Suddenly, I got the sense I was being watched. Had Yelana finally become impatient with my absence and tracked me down? Well, when I looked below, it wasn’t her at all, but rather Agnarr himself, looking up at me with the most fascinated eyes. I realized he probably thought it was magic, what his father had been talking about before. That I was some creature of nature, able to spread my hands and fly of my own accord.
The thought tickled me even more than Gale’s breeze, and I burst into laughter as the Wind Spirit spun me higher and higher until I was breathless and dizzy. I could feel Agnarr still watching me. But I didn’t mind. Instead, I tucked my knees to my chest and launched into a perfect double-barrel roll. Might as well give him something to see.
But just as I was about to have Gale set me down so I could meet Agnarr at last, the laughter and happy sounds emanating from the feast suddenly grew quiet.
Too quiet.
MY HEART POUNDED WITH FRIGHT AS A heightened pitch of angry voices suddenly reached my ears. What was going on? Gale seemed to sense my unease, setting me down before I could ask. By the time my feet had touched the earth, Agnarr was long gone and the angry shouting had transformed into screams of terror. A herd of spooked reindeer bolted past, almost trampling me.