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Then the feeling died away, and Eshkeshken stood even straighter, as if the cold touch had startled him. A low murmur met Gytha’s ears, but she could not understand what the wind said. She heard only Eshkeshken’s reply.

“You know my claim is just, West Wind. I will take no vengeance upon your children for ignoring me these long years if you will aid us now.”

The wind laughed softly, but it did not seem unkind. “Those seaside breezes? They had no power.”

“I know.” Eshkeshken sighed. “Please. You know Javethai is unjust, and it is a shame upon us all if her crimes are rewarded.”

“What will you give me, goblin prince? I do not need your absolution or your mercy on the seaside breezes.” The wind slipped cold fingers through Gytha’s hair.

“What do you want?” Eshkeshken’s face was stoic, but there was an edge of desperation in his voice.

“Human child, tell me of the southern trees. The South Wind tells me that they embrace her and scratch low upon her underside, turning her inside out and upside down in the summer, and that little songbirds and great birds of prey ride her shoulders. Is this true?”

Gytha glanced at Eshkeshken, who nodded. She swallowed. “The wind whispers through the trees in the summer, but I don’t know what it would feel like for the wind. The sound is lovely and peaceful, and the breeze carries the scents of pine and spruce and the sound of the river, if you’re close enough. If the wind is coming from the right direction, sometimes from our lodge I can hear the sound of children laughing where they play on the hillside.”

The wind tugged at her thick coat, and she staggered. “And what do you think of this icy land?” it whispered.

Gytha said honestly, “I think it is beautiful, but far too cold for me. I never thought so much ice andsnow could have such variation in color and texture, and the starlight on the snow glitters like nothing I have ever even imagined! But humans were not made for this cold, and I would have died already if not for Prince Eshkeshken and Dakjudr. They have been kind to me.”

The wind swirled around them, only a hint of snowflakes in the air making the movement visible. For some time there was no sound at all, and Gytha almost thought the wind had left.

Then it whirled into their faces again, and she blinked snow out of her eyes.

“What do you ask of me, goblin prince?” The words were soft and curious.

“I ask for you to take us to the palace where Javethai rules in my rightful place, the ice goblin palace at the end of the world, east of the sun and west of the moon, where only the winds can follow.”

“That is very far.”

“You are strong, West Wind. Will you carry us there?”

“I cannot go that far.”

Eshkeshken’s eyes flickered in frustration, and his lips pressed together. Then he bowed politely. “Can you help us get closer, then? Time grows short for the bear prince, and my people have already suffered too long under Javethai’s rule.”

The wind hissed over the snow, the sound low and almost menacing. At last the voice said softly, “What of you, Dakjudr, the quiet, dutiful servant? Have you no desires of your own?”

The goblin woman stood up straight and smiled fiercely, her gray eyes shining. “I serve my prince, even if all others prove faithless.”

“I did not ask what you would do. I asked what you wanted.” The voice of the wind was soft and curious.

“I want to see the Eshkeshken upon his throne,” Dakjudr said. “I want to see justice done for my brother, whomJavethai murdered. If it can be done, I would also see the bear prince restored to his people. It is a stain on the honor of our people to keep a prisoner so unjustly.”

Eshkeshken hissed between his teeth. “I cannot fault any man for not wanting to marry Javethai. A cruel wife she would be, indeed. His captivity is a dishonor upon us all.”

The wind gave a little quiver that might have been a laugh. “For what reason do you serve your prince, Dakjudr? Justice?”

“And love and loyalty. For he was good to me when others proved cruel or apathetic. I would sacrifice much to see him on his rightful throne, not only because it is his and Javethai must fall, but because I wish for better for my people. He will teach them a different way.”

“So selfless,” murmured the wind. “As if love is all that matters.”

“It is what matters to me,” Dakjudr said.

For a moment there was only a desolate stillness, and then the wind whispered, “I will help you, goblin prince, because I bear no love for Javethai the Usurper. I will take you to my brother the North Wind. Tell him that I wish to hear of Javethai’s fall, for I think it will entertain me for many long winters to come.”

With no other warning than this, the swirling gusts caught them up like leaves in a blizzard, and they spun into a vortex of biting cold and glittering ice.

The silence brought Gytha to her senses. She lay curled in the snow, as if she had been taking a nap. For several minutes she did not move as she took stock of her many aches. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed too serious. Her lungs burned with each breath of frigid air.