13

In Which Bad Bureaucratic Policies Have Consequences

It couldn’t be Ryker. It couldn’t. He had kissed her before the bonfire under the moonlight and made her feel real things. He had been nothing but attentive and kind.

And that wasn’t proof at all, spoke that part of her always keen on self-sabotage. Just because he’d been nice to you doesn’t mean you can trust him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be this stranger before you now. It was wishful thinking, wanting to hold on to that old idea of him for a little while longer.

This Ryker was different. This Ryker was smiling like before, but it was a cruel smile she’d never seen on him.

“Ryker,” she said, and, pathetically, it came out a whimper.

He ignored her. “This wasn’t part of the deal. You are to turn Alex Smith over to us immediately. You can do whatever you want with the rest.”

“The circumstances have changed,” Agent Appleton shot back. “These terrorists are far more dangerous than you first let on. I have carte blanche to make decisions here, and I think we should sort all this out at HQ before we agree to any releasing.”

“Punyetang mga traydor.” Blood ran down Lola Urduja’s lip as she struggled back to her feet, as proud as a warrior despite the agents cuffing her wrists. “You sold out your own country. Your own people!”

“You’re mistaken. We’re keeping our country safe from the likes of you who come to pollute us with your foul magic.”

“No,” the old woman said, “cease the deception. People who don’t look and act like you is what you hate. Every other excuse is only a pretense.”

“The irony of defending yourself from foul magic,” Tala’s mother added, “by allying with the Snow Queen and Beira is too much.”

Appleton’s mouth twisted. “I’ve heard of you Makilings. Your bias against the Beirans runs deep. Pity I wasn’t aware of it a few days ago, but I’m going to add destroying government property to the list of charges against you, just because I can.”

The agents were already pulling at Tala, separating her and the other teens from the rest of the adults. “We won’t be needing those other kids,” Appleton said dismissively. “Bring that other Makiling with us, but send the rest to the detention center. We’ll tack conspiracy to commit murder to their charges.” He sneered down at Wilson, who was still on the ground and shaking uncontrollably, foam bubbling from his mouth. “Put him in cuffs too.”

“No.” Ryker gestured at Tala. “This one’s with me.”

“No deal,” Appleton said, and Tala winced as her arm was twisted even farther behind her back. “You’re gonna have to head over to the detention facility once we’ve finished processing her.”

“Detention centers,” Ryker mused. “Was this the one at Glendale? The one with the misleading bienvenidos murals on the walls? Or the one at Southwest Skies, with the lighthouses?”

The agent’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s that to you?”

“How long have you been an ICE agent, Appleton?”

“Twenty-five years. I’ve done more for this country than you can ever imagine, and I’m good at my job.”

“Yes. I can only imagine that you were very, very good at your job.”

The agent swung toward him, obviously annoyed, but paused mid-turn.

“Let me tell you a story,” Ryker drawled, stepping closer to him. “It’s an unusual story, but it’s one I’m the fondest of telling. Once upon a time there was a boy, you see, whose family came to this great country in the hopes of seeking a better life. They heard it all—the Royal States of America, the land of the free, the home of the brave.

“The boy had an American father, who had abandoned him and his mother. Years later, an uprising in their country forced the five-year-old boy and his mother to flee. His mother believed that America was their last hope. Her son was already an American citizen by virtue of his father. She thought it would make acceptance easier.”

Agent Appleton’s mouth opened angrily as if to interrupt, but his eyes widened, and he stopped moving. There was a soft, tinkling sound, like bells.

“They followed the rules. They left their country, entered America, and pleaded for asylum. The laws and the government in the land of their birth had not been kind, but they hoped America would be different.”

A queer, choking noise was rising out of Appleton’s throat, his face turning blue. Around them the other agents were frozen with the same odd immobility, barely able to breathe while ice crept over their bodies. Pained gasps left their mouths as thick puffs of mist, almost like souls leaving their bodies, one fogged breath at a time.

Ryker leaned in closer, a few inches from Appleton’s face, but his voice carried on, loud and strong. “They were not,” he informed the agent, and a horrific cracking sound came between them.

An arm dropped to the ground, completely frozen. Agent Appleton’s eyes, the only thing he could move, flicked from the empty socket of his shoulder to his detached limb, a wild panic in his gaze.

“The agents took the little boy away. They said his mother had given him up and returned to her own country. They said she told them he’d been a bad boy, that it was his fault they’d been caught and arrested, and that she didn’t love him anymore.” There was no trace of anger in Ryker’s tone. His voice was curiously indifferent, like he was telling a story that could have happened to anyone.

“They sent him to a detention center. There were so many children like him there, all without their parents. The adults told him that they, too, had been bad, and that they deserved to be punished. And so they were.

“Later, when he was much older, he would learn that the agents had accused his mother of kidnapping him and pretending to be his parent. That she was part of a trafficking ring that brought children across the American border. After all, the boy took after his American father in features. Who would know better?”

Another loud crack, and Appleton’s right arm landed alongside its partner with a thunk. “They gave him nothing but a foul blanket and a hard mat to sleep on. He was fed nothing but gruel and water. When he tried to rebel, they would beat him. They divided the children into groups—first into boys and girls, and then by age, to control them better. If any one kid within that group misbehaved, they would all be punished.

“The boy wore the same clothes for months. Their bathroom was nothing more than a bucket in one corner that they didn’t empty for days at a time.”

Faint, muffled noises were protruding from Appleton’s open, nonfunctioning mouth.

“The agents in charge of the children were instructed not to touch them unless they had to be punished. But some of those agents didn’t always obey those orders.” The boy’s eyes were an icy blue, so similar to the other compelled students back at the school. But at the same time, they were different; his were bright with barely concealed rage. “There was one in particular who delighted in it more than the others did. He hurt those under his care. The boy was unlucky enough to be one of them.”

“Chhhh.” Appleton was croaking, eyes darting from the boy to the other agents around him, pleading for help. None of them moved. None of them could.

“Eventually, the boy was sent out of the facility where he was moved to foster home after foster home. The families took him because the government offered them a paycheck, but the reality was he suffered more abuse there. When he was fourteen years old, he escaped his last home and found himself on a bridge, staring down at the cold waters below. For a moment, he thought that would be easier, that everything would be better this way.”

Ryker’s voice never wavered, even then, but there was another sharp ripping sound, and Appleton stumbled down to one knee, the whole leg underneath him torn away. “And then she came. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. She sat beside him, brushed away his tears, and told him that she would be his new mother. She took him away and gave him good food to eat, and warm clothes to wear, and for the first time since setting foot in America, the boy was happy.”

“Chhhh,” Agent Appleton gasped.

Ryker smiled. “The boy finally had a family, but he couldn’t forget the time he spent at the detention center. Or the agents who had mistreated him and so many others. And of that one agent who had been the cruelest of all. And so, sometimes, when the world is dark and when no one else is looking, the boy would break into detention centers and save more kids. His new mother welcomed them all.”

He grabbed Appleton by the hair and yanked him closer. Cracks formed around the agent’s skin, like he was an ice sculpture too fragile to last much longer.

“On your knees, boy,” Ryker hissed, copying the agent’s drawl. “You give me tears and I’m going to beat you black and blue, boy. Remember me, Appleton? Do you remember saying those words back at Southwest? Ever wondered why Lady Ice Maiden here insisted that you be in charge of this operation? Or were you too arrogant to see why an emissary from Beiran would specifically ask for you?” His voice dropped. “Was it because you were such a good agent?”

“Chhhh,” Appleton bleated. “Chhhhh—” and the ice closed over his head, finally silencing him.

Ryker released the man, but the ice had thickened enough around the agent’s body that he remained in the same position, bent over in midair without any other support. Even then, the man was still alive, his eyes bulging out of his head. “I’ll tell you a secret,” Ryker said, turning to smile at Appleton’s fellow motionless, frightened agents. “My brothers and sisters are coming for you. You’ve tried your best to keep us out of the news, but we are here, and we remember. You will pay a hundredfold for what you made us suffer through.”

“Don’t do this.” It came from Tala’s father, white under his beard. “Don’t let her do this to you, son.”

Ryker guffawed. “Ironic, coming from you.”

“Don’t,” Tala pleaded. “Ryker, please.”

The boy grinned, and it was his old smile, friendly and gentle. He moved to where Tala remained pinned underneath the ice, crouched down beside her. “I’m sorry, Tala,” he said, and gently brushed stray hair from her eyes.

Tala drew back instinctively, remembering how those same hands had just froze a man. Ryker noticed, and something like sorrow clouded his gaze.

“I do like you,” he said. “But I had no intention of ever revealing who I was. I had hoped to find Alex without ever having to tell you. Maybe that was denial on my part. You were too close to the Tsarevich royals, your family too involved in their cause. I didn’t know about that until later. I suppose it was only a question of when.”

“I considered you a friend,” Alex said quietly.

Ryker shrugged. “No hard feelings on my part, bud. We do what we have to do. You want to revive Avalon, and we don’t.”

“But why are you doing this?” Tala choked out.

“A little bit for revenge, a little bit for principle. Your Cheshire and the famous Urduja of the Katipunan would never tell you this, Tala, but Avalon and the Snow Queen share the same goals. They just disagree on how to achieve them. Avalon cannot stop other nations from eventually getting their hands on their spelltech. It’s only a matter of time. OzCorp and the new Emerald Act are proof of that.”

“So you’d rather subjugate them instead,” her father grunted.

Ryker laughed. “You never told her, did you? About you and Mother.”

A muscle shifted in Kay Warnock’s square jaw.

“What do you mean?” Tala demanded.

“Tala,” her mother whispered, a pained sound.

Ryker stood. “I think we all deserve the truth today, don’t you?”

Tala’s father closed his eyes. “Boy,” he whispered. “I beg ye. Don’t go down the same path I did. Don’t lose what’s left of the soul she’s allowed you to keep.”

But Ryker wasn’t listening. “Aimée,” he said to the ice maiden, “summon our mistress, if you would be so kind.”

The girl made of ice bowed low to him and then shifted. For several moments, she turned even more translucent, her features disappearing under a soft shimmering light.

And then her shape warped; she grew taller, her hair falling down in longer waves behind her back. Her limbs lengthened and thinned, and the simple tunic she wore billowed down into a floor-length dress. When the light cleared, the ice maiden was gone, and in her place was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, a queen stepping out of the pages of a storybook. Her hair was as white as snow, lips cherry red, and with only the faintest tinge of frost on her fair skin. But her eyes were a fathomless black, dark jewels that detracted nothing from her beauty despite the coldness in them.

Tala’s father made a harsh, pained sound.

“Ina ng Diyos,” Lola Urduja hissed, arms bunching like she would attack if she could only break free.

The Snow Queen smiled, laying a motherly hand on Ryker’s cheek. “You did well, my Ryker,” she murmured, in a soft, sweet voice that carried with it more pealing of bells.

“Brought you a gift, Mother.”

“So you did.” She glided toward Tala’s father, and a trail of ice followed in her wake like a silken train. “Ah,” she sighed. “Kay. My wonderful Kay.”

Her father said nothing, his eyes locked on her face.

The Snow Queen reached up to cup his face. “Look at you now. You’ve gotten so old, Kay.”

The man turned his face away. “And you’re as beautiful as you always were, Annelisse.”

“That was the name I took when I became queen, as all before me had. There is no need for such formalities. You have always been my Kay, and I have always been your Gerda.”

“Last time I saw you, y’stabbed me in the heart,” her father said. “Literally. Left me to die in Ivan’s throne room.”

Tala started to shake. Surely this woman wasn’t talking about her father. Surely there was some other reason she sounded so sincere. She looked at her mother, but Lumina’s face was a carefully crafted mask, giving nothing away.

“I was very furious at you,” the woman said, her voice sorrowful. “I meant to eradicate the Tsarevich line, but you saved Ivan’s son. I knew you would live through it, my love. I had every right to be angry. You left me.”

“I came to my senses, Annelisse,” Kay Warnock corrected her, his voice hard.

“Our love was a wonderful madness, dear heart. Renew your vows to me, and I will forget your betrayal and give you everything. I will restore your youth and your immortality. We can rule again, you and I. Surely you cannot tell me that you don’t miss what we had?”

“I would rather die and vanish into a pile of bones and ash,” her father said, “than spend another day with you, you daft old crone. Kill me now if you have to. You bespelled me like you bespelled that poor boy. Nothing about us was ever true.”

The Snow Queen drew back like she’d been slapped, her onyx eyes bright with a sudden dreadful energy.

The Snow Queen had a consort once. The Scourge of Buyan. The Snow Queen and Kay.

Her father.

“Goddammit, Kay,” Tala heard her mother growl. “Can’t you lie for once and buy me a little more time?”

But the Snow Queen was already hunting for fresh new targets, and her eyes alighted on Tala and Lumina. “It is they who have bewitched you, my love,” she snarled. “The Makiling bitch took you away from me, didn’t she? She wooed you with honeyed lies, enticed you with a daughter.”

The full force of the Snow Queen’s fury was now directed at her, and Tala would have scrambled away if she could. But she was still pinned down and could only watch as the Snow Queen bore down on her with terrifying speed, helpless to do anything but—

“No!” Ryker planted himself in between them, his hand raised. “Mother, control yourself.”

“Step away. Her heart is mine.”

“She’s a Makiling too. She’s more useful to us alive, and you know that.” Ryker’s voice was as calm as the air before a storm, but his hand betrayed him; it shook, ever so slightly. “No use throwing away our advantage for a moment’s satisfaction. If you have to torture someone, you can always start with the others. We don’t need them.”

Tala watched the Snow Queen’s expression shift, her eyes momentarily falling shut. “We shall take my Kay and the spellbreakers,” she finally said. “You are right; there will be more than enough time. Leave the rest to your pet.”

“Pet?” Zoe muttered. “What pet?”

As if on cue, another horrible sound raked through the air.

“Exactly how many damn ogres did they bring?” Ken burst out.

But even as the beast appeared, bearing down on them, Lumina gave a frenzied shout. Tala could feel the waves spiraling out of her mother as the force of her agimat thawed the ice keeping her in place, heard the delighted yelps from the others as it did the same to them.

The firebird chose that moment to jump out from behind the car, let out a thin cry of victory, and promptly shoot fire in the Snow Queen’s direction.

With a gasp, the Snow Queen reeled back and exploded. Shards flew around them, but Tala’s father had leaped forward, shielding Tala, who was closest, from the blast. He grunted, clapping his hand against his side, which was now streaked with blood. The Snow Queen was gone, and in her place the ice maiden lay in a puddle of ice water, her own midsection shattered from the force.

“I’m okay!” Kay shouted. “Get to Lumina!”

Tala scampered toward her mother, who was lying on the ground, unconscious. Tita Chedeng was already there, checking her pulse. “She fainted,” she said. “Too much energy used to negate the Snow Queen’s body-switching spell, even with an agimat as strong as hers, but she’ll be all right.”

“Get the younglings to the sanctuary immediately,” Lola Urduja instructed, staggering up. “Carlisle! Inoue! Fall back and let us handle this! Bring both Lumina and Kay with you!”

“We’re not leaving any of you!” Ken shouted. “That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Of course it’s not, you fool! I don’t intend to die today! We’ll distract the ogre, but your priority is His Highness. Get to the sanctuary immediately!”

Reluctantly, Zoe and Ken backed away from the ogre, while the others rushed in to engage. West was keeping Lumina upright, and Loki was doing the same to Kay with no visible effort despite the man’s bulk.

“I’m sorry,” Ryker said, and a glowing ball of ice appeared in between his hands. “I can’t let any of you get—”

Tala took in every frustration and fear and anger currently tearing through her like a roller coaster, and flung it back out at her former crush.

The ball exploded in Ryker’s hands. With a stunned shout, he sprawled backward, the ice he was intending to release pinning him to the ground.

“Shit,” Ken groaned, “we gotta move. They’re here!”

“They?” But any further questions died on Tala’s lips when she saw a mass of people heading their way. Like her classmates back at Elsmore, they all walked with the same rigidity, sporting the same blank expressions and pale eyes.

“Surely they don’t expect us to fight them?” West protested. “They’re not the bad guys!”

“That’s exactly why they want us to!” Loki grabbed at West’s collar. “Move!”

“Let’s go, Tala!” Alex yelled, but she hesitated, staring at Ryker. The boy’s eyes opened, focused on her.

“Why?” Tala choked, though she already knew what his answer was.

Ryker held her gaze for a few seconds, then turned away. “You should have stayed at the bonfire,” he said. “Solaaci cortra mei, Atu garu nek as sol.”

Ice warped around him, spinning so fast that Tala would have been caught up in it if her father hadn’t acted quickly. He grabbed Tala around the midsection, then a startled Loki with the other hand, and physically flung them all out of range just as the spell crystallized into a large sphere, with Ryker and the rest of the agents trapped within.

Tala rolled back to her feet, hammered at the new barrier with her hands until they were numb with frost. “Ryker!” she shouted. “What are you doing? Ryker!”

“We have to get out of here, Tally,” her father said, reaching out to her. “The boy’s lost. We need to get to th’ sanctuary before they—”

Tala brushed him off. “Get away from me.”

“Tally, I…”

“Get away from me!” They called him the Scourge of Buyan because he had wiped that country off the map. The Scourge had waged most of the Snow Queen’s wars, had killed millions in her name.

The Scourge was her father.

“Get away,” she repeated, and ran off in the direction Ken and Zoe had gone, without looking back.