Home > Frozen 2 : Dangerous Secrets : The Story of Iduna and Agnarr(5)

Frozen 2 : Dangerous Secrets : The Story of Iduna and Agnarr(5)
Author: Mari Mancusi

The wagons ground to a halt. The soldiers called out in alarm, staring at the shimmering gray fog in dismay.

“More black magic!” one of them muttered, making strange patterns with his hands, as if to ward off whatever it was. “Evil sorcery!”

“Let’s get out of here,” the other barked. “Before it comes for us, too!”

My heart lurched. What was happening? My home! My family! Trapped behind some kind of wall—and I was on the wrong side. I had to return before it was too late.

Or was it already too late?

If I showed myself now, the soldiers might declare me a traitor. But if I didn’t, I might lose my entire world. Panic flared inside me. What should I do?

Suddenly, I felt a flutter of movement beside me. I glanced over. Agnarr had woken—though maybe not completely. He blinked, looking at me with sleepy green eyes. For a moment our gazes locked. My heart thudded. I shook my head, glancing back at the growing mist and letting out a small moan.

Agnarr took my trembling hand in his and squeezed so lightly I could barely feel it. Yet at the same time, it was as if I could feel nothing else in the world.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped square. I opened the paper tentatively, revealing a tiny block of that brown stuff I’d tasted in the tents. Shocked, I returned my gaze to Agnarr, who smiled.

“Chocolate makes everything better,” he whispered.

Then his eyes closed again and his breathing slowed. He’d fallen back asleep. But his hand remained in my own as the wagons rolled on, away from the mist. Resigned, I settled down under my cloak, slipping the block of chocolate into my mouth. Its sweetness could only be rivaled by the warmth of Agnarr’s hand.

Like it or not, I was going to Arendelle.

But as to whether it would be okay?

Only Ahtohallan knows.

 

 

“THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE IN THE WAGON!”

I woke in confusion as the Arendellian cloak was ripped from my head and body, the sudden burst of sunlight nearly blinding me after a night spent in darkness. I blinked rapidly, trying to gain my bearings as my heart thudded with rising panic. Where was I? Why did I ache so much? And who were these large, strangely dressed men leaning over me with confused looks on their bearded faces? I pulled the cloak back over my shoulders, huddling in fear.

It came back to me in a rush. The celebration. The battle. The boy I’d saved. The trap I’d somehow found myself in. The mist falling over the forest. I struggled to sit up, fear raging through me like wildfire. Where was Agnarr? Had I really slept through them taking him out of the wagon? I thought back to his hand clasping mine, to his promise that everything would be okay.

But now he was gone. And I was with men who would rather see me dead.

I tried to dart away, leaping from the wagon. But I landed wrong, on legs that had moments before been fast asleep. A jarring pain shot through my ankle and up my calf, and I dropped to the ground with a small cry. The men quickly surrounded me, now with suspicious looks on their bearded faces.

I bit my lip, realizing I’d made a huge mistake.

“Who are you, girl?” one man demanded. “Why were you trying to run?”

I blinked up at them, terror making it impossible to speak. My mind flashed back to the soldier’s words the day before.

I’d slash them all down.

“You don’t think she’s one of them, do you?” another man added, squinting at me with cold gray eyes. “A little stowaway from the forest?”

The first man spit on the ground, then grabbed me roughly by the arm, pulling me to my feet. I winced as pain shot up my leg all over again, but gritted my teeth, refusing to let them see me cry. The man clasped his meaty hands on my face, turning me left, then right. “Well, speak up, girl!”

I withdrew into myself, hunching my shoulders and dropping my chin. My whole body was shaking with fear. I tried to tell myself that maybe this was simply a dream, that I’d wake up any second back in the forest, cuddled under a pile of reindeer hides.

But truth be told, it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt more like a nightmare.

I opened my mouth and attempted to speak, though I had no idea what I could say to save myself. Why, oh, why had I fallen asleep in the wagon? If I had been awake when they stopped, I could have snuck away somehow. But now I was in the center of their city, stone buildings rising up in all directions, blocking my path. And with my injured ankle? There was no escaping my fate.

Where was Gale? If Gale were here, just maybe it would distract them—give me a chance to slip away. I whispered our song under my breath, but the air remained dead as that on a hot summer’s day, not even a hint of a breeze in this strange town’s center.

I saw no sign of any rescue from my spirit friend.

“All right now, what’s the meaning of this?” demanded someone new who had suddenly burst onto the scene. A man with a full head of dark hair pushed his way through the others. He was wearing a fancy suit the color of lingonberries; the way the others quickly scattered as he approached told me he was in charge.

“This girl, sir. We found her in the wagon. But all the children who traveled to the dam with us have already been accounted for. And she refuses to say who she is.”

When he reached me, he stared down, searching my face with eyes the color of the brown blocks Agnarr had called chocolate. I let out an involuntary whimper, the fear inside me so strong I was afraid I would throw up on his shoes.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from the smoke I’d inhaled. Though I hardly knew what I was asking for. Mercy? Why would they grant me mercy when they believed my family had slaughtered their people in cold blood? To them, I was a monster. A sorceress. I was—

“A child!” the man exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder. “Why, you’re just a little girl.”

“I’m twelve,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “I am nearly a woman.” My voice, which I wanted to sound strong, came out more like a squeak.

To my surprise, he laughed, laying a kind hand on my shoulder. “My mistake,” he told me. “Of course. And you are quite the fine lady at that.”

I swallowed hard, dropping my gaze to the ground. The cloak I still wore slid off my shoulders, revealing my mother’s shawl tied around my neck. The man’s eyes widened as they took in the shawl. Then he quickly grabbed the cloak and dropped to his knees in front of me to settle it back on my shoulders.

“What is your name?” he whispered, his face inches from mine. I was surprised at the sudden gravity of his voice.

“Iduna,” I whispered back, glancing worriedly at the men on either side, who were still giving me suspicious looks.

The man in charge slapped his hand on his forehead. “Iduna! Of course!” he cried, his voice suddenly loud as he rose back to his feet. “Daughter of Greta and Torra, the brave shield-maiden and soldier who were with us at the dam.”

I opened my mouth to protest. Greta? Torra? I had never heard of those people, and they definitely weren’t my parents. But before I could say anything, the man shook his head slightly so only I could see. I got the message loud and clear.

The others gathered back around me, looking at me with new eyes. I had been right about this man being in charge; when he spoke, they listened. And more important, they believed.

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