Page 17 of The Shadow of Polaris

A small smile escaped her lips as I tossed her the dish rag.

Catching it between her frail hands, she said, “I had a daughter, you know.”

Frya wiped the soapy scum off her hands across the stained apron she wore. “When her father found out I was pregnant, he took off- ran all the way to Canissa, claiming he’d find us a better life in the West. The minute he stepped out of this tavern, I knew, though. He wasn’t coming back.” She unclasped a tarnished silver locket from beneath her wool tunic and handed it to me.

“Her name was Astri. She was all I needed in this world, with her small green eyes and little hands. When she was a baby, I lost time because I’d just stare at her and her perfect button nose and toothless smile. I’d set her down to change her and get sidetracked by her laughter. It was us against the world. Raising her made me feel invincible.”

I opened the locket to look at the painted little girl with flaming red hair and a wide-eyed grin.

“When she was four, I took her to Festival. She’d always beg me to see the lights and taste all the different treats. It’s funny; when you become a mother, you want to protect your child- lock them away from all the horrible darkness in the world. But they grow up, and you can’t keep them safe forever. They have to learn on their own.”

There was a glint in Astri’s eye, and I couldn’t help but think just how full of life she looked and how much youthful wonder her portrait captured.

“After begging me all day, I caved. I remember thinking to myself, she deserved to see the borealis and celebrate along with the other children. So we went. We bought butter cakes until we were entirely stuffed and danced to the fiddler tunes until I thought my toes would fall off. When finally our Goddess appeared, Astri stared up at her in awe. It was so magical, getting to give her that experience. The whole city was watching Polaris except for me. I was watching my little girl.”

“When the festival ended, we turned to head home. That’s when I lost her. It was only a fleeting moment, but that’s all it took. Her hand slipped from mine and she disappeared into the crowd. I panicked and searched through people, pushing past them, calling her name, even crawling on the street to see if I could catch sight of her little red slippers. But she was gone. The city guards took over the search, escorting me back to the tavern and telling me to get some rest and that they’d find her. How can you rest when your whole heart is missing?”

“That was the worst night of my life. There’s no torture on this Earth worse than waiting for something, knowing you’re powerless. It wasn’t until the morning when a guard knocked on my door.” She swallowed the lump rising in her throat.

“He was so pale and uncomfortable when he spoke. I knew then that I’d never get to hold her again. I guess she’d found her way through a crack in the city wall and gotten lost in the northern woods.” Frya took a breath and placed her shaking hand atop mine.

“They found a red slipper by the wall and tracked a trail of footprints into the forest. The guard said maybe it was an animal attack. Those woods have never been safe, but with the attacks from the northern creatures, it was likely it wasn’t just an animal.” There was a length of silence before she continued, her eyes now damp with painful memories. “It shredded her tiny body to bits. Aside from a matching red slipper on her foot, she was otherwise unrecognizable.”

“Frya… I’m so sorry.” I whispered, lacing my fingers between hers. The feel of her skin was almost as cold as the sorrow in her voice.

“The attacks weren’t nearly as bad back then as they are now. I know you can handle yourself, but when I found your bed empty last night, I was terrified. Everything came back to me. I wasn’t in control when I confronted you this morning. I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand. I have moments where I lose myself in my pain, too. No mother should have to go through what you did.”

She smiled sadly through wet lashes. The harsh exterior she so tirelessly built was a defense. The woman beneath those ancient scowls and sarcastic jabs was broken- she had lost everything.

“I think I need a minute. Talking about Astri is difficult, even after all these years.” She pulled her hand away.

“I’ll be right back. Why don’t you start the stew for this evening?” she said, smoothing the wrinkles of her apron.

“Sure. Take as long as you need,” I nodded.

She cleared her throat and disappeared upstairs, joints cracking as she stepped.

Frya didn’t return until the stew was simmering and the morning light faded into a gloomy afternoon. The knocking of the tavern door pulled me back from the depth of my thoughts as I stirred our supper on the stove. The barkeep hobbled to the door, unlatched it, and peered at the unexpected visitor with shaggy brown hair.

“We don’t open for another couple hours, boy,” she snapped, slamming the door shut.

“I- I know! I’m actually not here for a drink,” he stammered, his voice muffled through thick oak.

Frya reopened the door, glaring at him, “What do you want, then?”

“I um… I’m here to see Ell. A-and Arcturas, of course,” he said. I shook my head, snorting at the awkward tone in his voice.

“Ell, there’s a boy here to see you.” Frya raised a brow toward me, her lip thinning into a pin straight line across her face. Opening the door just enough for Rune to slide through, she slammed it behind him, re-latching the lock, her eyes following his every movement.

“Hi Ell!” He smiled, the brown of his eyes brightening as he spoke. “I was on my way to the market, and I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

Arcturas padded toward her newfound friend, her tail wagging violently with each step. Rune knelt beside her, scratching behind her ear as she lapped at his cheek.

“I see it wasn’t just a few guards you met last night.” Leaning against the entryway threshold, Frya crossed her arms, eyeballing the wolf and her new companion.

“Frya, this is Rune. He helped me scare away those drunken guards last night. If it wasn’t for him…” I shuddered, thoughts of that dark alleyway pricking the hair on the nape of my neck.

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