The Silver Secret Read online

  “The glove does indeed bear the Auroras’ emblem,” announced Vladimir.

  A shocked murmur spread through the people who heard his words, and rippled out to the edges of the crowd. People got up from their seats and stood there, unsure what to do. A young child started crying.

  “We must form a search party at once!” declared Captain Vladimir, his voice raised. Some of his men sprang from the crowd, awaiting further orders.

  Madame Olga began to guide the girls across the platform towards the steps. “Come,” she said. “The guards will do their work. They will find your mother and father very soon.” She led them through the east passage and up to their chamber, and instructed a chambermaid to help them out of their gowns.

  “Right then, young ladies, I think it’s best if you stay safely in your room. I’ll have a servant bring dinner up to you,” Madame Olga told them. “The banquet will have to be cancelled, of course.”

  The girls nodded. Their plans for the celebration already seemed so distant.

  “Can’t we help, somehow?” asked Hanna.

  Madame Olga reached out and drew all three girls close. For the first time ever she hugged them.

  “The best thing you can do is stay out of the way,” she said, but then added softly, “and try not to worry.”

  Then she stepped back and smoothed down her dress. “I must help put together provisions for the search party.” She turned crisply and left the room.

  Later that night, as Oskar dozed next to the low fire in their chamber, the girls sat beside him, cuddled together under the blanket from Ida’s bed. Their eyes all rested one thing. In the centre of the room, on a delicate wooden table, was their most cherished possession: a snow globe that had once belonged to their mother. Many years ago Freya had given it to them. The glass felt so smooth and cold to the touch that at first they had believed it to be carved of ice. Inside, by some magic, soft snow whirled constantly around a tall crystal-clear waterfall that dropped straight into a bright-blue sea. When the girls woke each morning it was the first thing they looked at, and it brought them a feeling of happiness and peace.

  “I can’t stop thinking…” began Magda.

  “…about Mother and Father,” finished Hanna.

  “I know,” said Ida. “What could have happened? Just thinking of them somewhere in the forest…” She trailed off, and for once neither of her sisters completed the sentence for her.

  The girls sat quietly for a while. Ida reached for her sketchbook and looked at the picture of the snow orchid she had begun earlier that day. It seemed so long ago now, but she found that drawing always helped to calm her nerves. She picked up a charcoal and added the finishing touches to it in the low firelight, feeling an odd tingling in her hands as she did.

  “Why hasn’t the Guard sent word yet?” Magda wondered aloud eventually. “It’s been hours.”

  Hanna drew the blanket closer round her shoulders and stroked Oskar’s warm fur. “I’m sure Captain Vladimir is doing his best.” She wondered if Magda and Ida noticed how hollow and unconvincing her voice sounded. The fire was burning low and, even with her eyes adjusted to the dark, she couldn’t make out the expressions on her sisters’ faces.

  Then, all of a sudden, a warm, glowing light bathed the room. Hanna could see Magda and Ida as clearly as if a bright moon had risen right beside them.

  “What’s happening?” Ida sat up and threw off the blanket.

  “It’s coming from the snow globe!”

  Hanna was up and halfway to the table before her sisters could join her.

  Now they stood before it, their nightdresses reflecting its milky glow. Within the glass globe, snow continued to whirl around the waterfall, but the girls could just make out another image through the snowflakes. It almost looked like …

  A face. A face like their own.

  And then a voice spoke.

  “My dearest girls,” the voice said, soft but clear.

  The sisters drew in their breath sharply. They all leaned closer to the globe, their eyes wide.

  “Mother!” they cried together.

  “I do not have much time, my darlings. I am so sorry to have missed your special birthday celebrations, but something terrible has happened!”

  Tears of worry slid down the girls’ faces. For once none of them could speak. They just listened to their mother’s familiar voice and watched the light pouring from the globe. Instinctively they moved closer together.

  The voice grew stronger. “I have been Keeper of the Lights for many years, a role that you girls will one day inherit. But when I was younger I had a sister, Veronika, who was meant to help me protect the Everchanging Lights’ magic. Unfortunately Veronika didn’t want the responsibility, only the power. She wanted to steal all of the Lights’ magic for herself, even though she knew this would throw our beautiful island into darkness and chaos. She became the Shadow Witch, and she learned many dark spells to help her in her quest for power.

  “It took all the power I had to stop her. I used a special spell to banish her to the peak of Svelgast Mountain, and I thought we were safe – but she has managed to escape. She has kidnapped your father and me, and she’s placed a curse upon us that means she can drain my powers and take them for herself. I’m fighting as much as I can, and I’m using what magic I still have to reach you now…”

  Ida linked her arms through Magda’s and Hanna’s. The three sisters did not take their eyes from the snow globe.

  “Listen closely, girls. Veronika wants the magic of the Everchanging Lights for herself, just as she always did, but I managed to protect it before she could trap me. I put it into three special orbs and scattered them across the island.”

  The sisters moved closer to the globe, their arms still linked. They could each see the others’ faces, eyes wide, in the soft glow. None of them dared to speak. None of them wanted to break the spell. They all knew that what was happening was real, and yet they were afraid it was a dream.

  Their mother’s voice grew even more urgent.

  “My daughters, you must find these the orbs. Collect them from their places of safety and bring each of them here. The Lights’ magic can then be kept safe in the snow globe. And once you have found all three of the orbs you will have the power to rescue your father and me.”

  Hanna found her voice. “We will find them, Mother!” she cried. “We promise!”

  The light from the snow globe seemed to grow deeper just for a moment. “You must hurry, though. The orbs can only hold the magic of the Everchanging Lights until the Day of the Midnight Sun.”

  “The day the sun never sets,” whispered Ida. “That’s just a few weeks from now.”

  The Day of the Midnight Sun was the sisters’ favourite time of year. The holiday marked the high point of the sun’s long march from the depths of winter, when it barely rose above the horizon. On the longest day of the year the courtyard whirled with festivities under a sky that never grew dark. But now the day took on a new significance.

  Their mother’s voice went on.

  “The Day of the Midnight Sun brings strong magic. The Shadow Witch knows this, and – be warned – she also knows that as Auroras you three have come into your own magic today, on your twelfth birthday, just as she and I did. She will do everything she can to stop you, to find the orbs herself, and to take over the entire island of Nordovia.”

  “No!” cried Magda, as Ida and Hanna shook with horror. They could not imagine their beloved land overtaken by an evil power. It could not be. It must not be. They were determined to stop the Shadow Witch and free their parents!

  “Tell us, Mother. How can we find the orbs if they’re scattered across the island?” said Ida.

  But time was running out fast. Their mother’s image was getting harder to see. Snowflakes whirled around it, obscuring her features and her red hair. Soon all the girls could make out were her emerald-green eyes.

  “She’s fading!” Magda exclaimed. “Mother!”

  Th
e sisters stared intently as the light from the globe began to die.

  “The first orb you must find,” the voice in the globe said urgently, “is hidden in the nest of a snow hawk. These birds are rare – but there is only one in all the land that is pure white with a silver tail.”

  “But where will we find the nest?” Ida asked. The girls peered into the globe, but its light was fading fast.

  “Please, tell us where we can find it, Mother!” Hanna cried desperately, but it was too late. In a moment the globe looked as it always had. The light had gone.

  Magda, Ida and Hanna looked at each other, frozen with anxious wonder. Oskar paced between them nervously, and Magda reached down to pet his head.

  Hanna, finally, spoke. “The silver snow hawk’s nest is out there somewhere. Somehow, we have to find it!”

  Ida walked to their large window and drew back the velvet curtain to look at the sky. The Everchanging Lights were flickering from their usual brightness to a sick, dull grey.

  “But how? We’ve never even been much beyond the castle,” she said. “What if it’s dangerous out there?” She gestured towards the expanse that lay beyond their knowledge.

  “It’s going to be dangerous right here in the castle if Veronika the Shadow Witch has her way,” replied Magda. “Everything depends on us. Mother and Father are depending on us.”

  Ida shivered. She walked back to her sisters, and they reached for one another’s hands. Moonlight streamed through the opened curtains.

  “The question is,” said Hanna, “where do we start? How are we ever going to find that snow hawk and its nest? It could be anywhere!”

  Magda wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “Wait a minute. When I was watching the falconer rehearse a display with the birds last week, Gregor told me that he’d seen a snow hawk glide right over his camp in the forest. He said they like to nest at the tops of large trees. They must live in the deep forest.”

  “The forest is huge!” said Ida. “How would we know where to go? We could get lost!”

  “We won’t get lost,” argued Magda. “I remember where Gregor’s camp is from when Madame Olga took us there on a nature lesson. If we head towards that, then the place that the snow hawks like to nest can’t be far away. And the silver snow hawk should be easier to spot than other birds.”

  Ida sighed, then nodded. “OK. Let’s wait till morning, and at breakfast we’ll ask one of the servants to take us to Gregor’s camp. Perhaps one of Captain Vladimir’s men could—”

  “Breakfast?” demanded Hanna. “A servant? Ida, we can’t wait until morning. There’s no time to lose! And we can’t have anybody else from the court involved. They can’t help us.”

  Ida frowned. “Why? They’ve always helped us. With everything.”

  Hanna put a hand on her sister’s arm. “This is different, Ida. You heard what Mother said. We’re going to be the Keepers of the Lights one day. This is our duty. We have to go, and we have to go alone, before anybody tries to stop us.”

  Ida took a deep breath. Hanna was right. She wished she could find the courage to be more like her sisters.

  “Hanna has a point,” said Magda. “This is our responsibility, and there’s no way the servants or Madame Olga would let us do this if they found out. We’ll sneak out tonight.”

  “Oh! An adventure!” Hanna smiled despite herself. “Let’s get dressed quickly.” She flung open the doors to their giant wardrobe. It was bursting with velvet day dresses and shimmering gowns. Hanna pushed these aside and reached to the back. “Our riding outfits!” she said triumphantly. “They’re warm and practical. Perfect for a quest.”

  “Brilliant!” said Magda. “Now we just have to make our way out to the woods.”

  “We’ll have to be careful, though. If we wake anyone while we’re sneaking out …” Ida trailed off, uncertain how to finish.

  “We’ll just say we have a stomach ache from the food this evening,” said Hanna, “and we got lost trying to find a servant to help us!”

  The girls smiled at each other, a flicker of the old fun creeping into things. But then their faces grew serious.

  “We’d better get changed,” said Ida softly, and her sisters nodded. They laid their soft nightdresses on their beds, and pulled on their thickest, longest underwear. Then they put on their riding outfits and laced up their sturdiest boots. Soon they were ready.

  Magda’s hand trembled as she reached for the handle of their chamber door. As she eased the door open Oskar stuck his nose in the gap and tried to lead her out.

  “Oskar!” Magda whispered to the polar bear, pushing him behind her. He looked up at her with his big brown eyes. “Oh, OK, you can come too, boy. But be very quiet!”

  “Are you sure? I hope it won’t be too dangerous for him,” whispered Ida.

  “He’s a magical polar bear, Ida! Stop worrying!” Hanna reached to pull her sister through the doorway. But just then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something on the floor of the bedchamber. “Wh-what’s that?” Magda and Ida turned to see, in the dim light from the fire, a large orchid lying on the floor by Ida’s bed. Despite the flowers usually being a vivid pink, this one was a cloudy grey – a charcoal grey!

  Ida took a tentative step towards it. “I … I think it’s the orchid I drew,” she whispered incredulously. How had it come to life? She walked over and grasped a large petal between her fingers.

  Magda’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Ida’s arm. “It must be your power, Ida! You can make your drawings come to life!”

  Hanna laughed. “I think you’re right, Magda. Quick, Ida, grab your sketchbook and pencils. We might need your power on our quest!”

  Astonished, Ida picked up her drawing things and tucked them snugly inside her riding jacket. The three sisters tiptoed to the door and, with Oskar at their heels, they crept out into the passage. Hanna took one last look at their warm, cosy bedroom before she quietly pulled the door closed behind her and turned to the dark hallway.

  “We’ll have to try to make our way through the forest on foot,” she whispered to her sisters. “Hopefully the snow won’t be as deep once we reach the woods…”

  Ida’s stomach lurched at the very idea of what her sister was saying, but she followed Hanna and Magda down the staircase, easing open the heavy door that led to the courtyard. They peered round it carefully before dashing out through the cold night towards the gates that marked the boundary of the castle. As they ran, Oskar raced ahead of them and began to magically grow in size – Nordovian polar bears had always had this special ability. But as he was still a pup his magic was a bit unpredictable, and he didn’t always know when it was best to use it. The girls knew that now was a bad time!

  “Oskar, no!” hissed Ida. “Don’t grow now, boy.” The bear shrank again and bounded back to the girls eagerly.

  Though it was dark they knew the way, and they made it over to the shadows by the gates, gulping the icy air – but they froze as they heard footsteps nearby. The girls crouched low in the darkness and saw a familiar swinging step coming close to them. It was one of their father’s guardsmen on patrol! They waited until he was out of sight before they let out their breath and started to ease the gates open as quietly as they could.

  Magda stopped and put out a warning hand to her sisters. She had had an idea. “Oskar is stronger and faster than us, especially if he grows bigger. What if we could get one of the transport sledges, and he could pull it? We’d get around much quicker.”

  Ida nodded. “Quick, let’s sneak to the wagoner’s shed and get one.”

  The shed was a small wooden building that stood a short distance across the courtyard. The moon lit a path that had been trodden through the snow, and the girls rushed across it, with Oskar following closely.

  Just then, from behind the shed, they heard the deep rumble of men’s voices.

  “Guards!” hissed Ida. “Get down!”

  She, Magda and Hanna dived into the snow. The cold stung their faces. There was no
thing to hide behind. Ida bit her lip anxiously as Oskar lumbered away from them. What was he going to do?

  The guards came to a halt nearby, and the girls heard them talking.

  “I thought I heard something… Oh, it’s just you, boy. I’m sure you miss Freya and Magnus too, eh? We’re going to find them. Don’t you worry.”

  They heard the guards’ footsteps moving away, but the sisters waited, burrowed down in the snow, until they were sure they had gone. Then they cautiously stood up and brushed the snow from their wet clothes as best they could.

  “Good boy, Oskar,” whispered Magda as the bear trotted back to them.

  “He distracted them for us!” said Ida softly, smiling at her sisters in the moonlight.

  Quickly they made their way to the shed, Oskar at their side.

  Hanna reached for the metal latch, but it was stiff and wouldn’t give.

  “Come on, Hanna,” urged Magda.

  Hanna tutted at her sister. “I’m trying!” She focused on the latch, pulling as hard as she could, but it still wouldn’t budge.

  “The guardsmen will be back any minute,” hissed Ida.

  Hanna huffed and let go of the latch, staring at it to try to see if there was another way to pull it loose. For a moment she felt a strange tingling behind her eyes, and as she stared she was almost certain the latch shifted a little of its own accord. She grabbed it again, and was finally able to wiggle it loose and open the door!

  “Phew!” she whispered. The girls slipped quickly into the dark space, and for a moment they stood there blinking. Oskar sneezed.

  Ida pointed to a corner. “Sledges!”

  The three of them began to heave a sledge from the shed, their hearts beating fast – they had to get out of there before the guard patrol came back. With Hanna and Magda pushing and Ida pulling, they managed to haul the sledge out into the snow. A leather harness and a heavy wool blanket lay across the bottom. They latched the shed door shut again, buckled the harness round Oskar, and crowded into the sledge.