Anubis watched the ice crumble around him.
She took a step forward, her heart pounding in her chest as Ketil's eyes met hers. The ice fell away in his hands and he disappeared from sight.
"Ketil!" She screamed, running out onto the ice, her hair streaming around her face. "Ketil! NO!"
Arms wrapped around her waist, holding her back. "Anubis, no! You'll fall in!"
She fought back, but the arms held tight. "Ketil!" She screamed again and Raziel dragged her back to the river bank.
"Follow the river!" She yelled. "Follow the river! We have to find him."
Dante jumped from the sled, tripping in the snow before wildly looking to Raziel. She didn't wait for another command to start running, the thick snow tripping her up as she desperately trampled through it.
Raziel finally released her and Anubis followed after Dante, desperately looking for some sort of opening where he could come to the surface and breathe.
She continued to run through the snow, stumbling until her skin became numb from the cold. She kept screaming his name. He had to know he wasn't alone. He had to know that they were there and they would find him.
The ice was patchy now and growing thinner, but the water below was moving faster. It was beginning to snake through rocky paths, the current turning white.
The river fell into a gorge, and Anubis stumbled backward in the snow to avoid falling down into the gorge and into the water. She stared down at the cliffs far below and stopped Raziel, Dante, and Jameson who had ran behind her.
"No." She whispered. "Nononononono."
The water below them was white and churning. She stared down, her hands knotted up in her hair.
Now what did they do?
Where was he? He had to be here.
"Ketil!" She screamed, as if he could hear and respond.
"Anubis..." Dante whined and Jameson carefully pressed a hand to the younger girl's shoulder.
"Do you see him?" She finally found her words, looking down into the river. "Do you see him or the horse?"
Raziel took a breath, "I don't think—"
"Shut up, Raziel!" She let out a noise that sounded like a strangled scream. He was gone. He was probably dead.
"Anubis, I think there is a better way of doing this. The locals will know where we can find him." There was still an undeniable sadness in his voice.
"He's alive," Anubis whispered. "I know he is."
There was still uncertainty in her voice.
"We'll find him, I know we will."
~~~
The River Elv took no prisoners. The fishermen of Ånjvalla knew firsthand how the river claimed lives both in the thaw season and the frozen depths of winter. It was a cruel mistress with little interest in the affairs of men.
Today was no different.
Ånjvalla fell on a particularly nasty part of the river, perfect for catching kree fish—a small flat faced thing that desired the faster moving currents. It was one of the rare parts of the river where ice did not form and so when the nets were towed back onto the river bank, the residents of the village had found many lost things. On occasion there was fine clothing, jewelry, heirlooms of all varieties, and the rare corpse.
The stretch of river was quiet today, after all, today was the feast of the Kvist Sisters and a day of celebration. The nets still stretched across the river in each family's designated spot. This might have been a festival day, but life would continue. People would have to eat and markets would demand their fish no matter the day.
On the bank of the Elv stood one man, left to guard the nets from those that would steal the nets themselves or the fish inside. Sabotage of their collective livelihood was not only frowned upon, but punishable to the highest extent. But the fishermen of the village knew that wayfarers proved the biggest threat.
The man carried little more than the clothes on his back, a spare knife, matches, and a large gaff that doubled as a weapon. He doubted there would be any thieves today, but the Elders had drawn straws and he was assigned the position.
He had a million tiny things on his mind, from the extraordinary feast waiting for him back at his home to his infant son who would not let him sleep. If he had leaned up against a tree, he would have fallen asleep within seconds, but he refused.
He took a breath, watching the frozen exhale float up toward the heavens. He paused as he saw something tug at the nets. He stepped closer to the river and let out a small noise as he saw the horse tangled up in one net.
A horse tangled in the net would ruin the net completely, but there was the reward of horseflesh for the dogs and hungry. It was still a shame the net would break though. But where was the horse's rider?
He started to turn back to grab his own horse to pull in the nets when something else caught his attention. It was hair.
There was a man tangled up and he looked pretty dead.
The fisherman waded up to his waist in the frigid water, sticking close to the nets and making sure his feet were firm on slick river rocks. He grabbed his gaff, hooking the man's jacket and dragging him toward the shore. Blood dripped onto the man's face from a cut on his forehead, washing away only to reappear and repeat the process. The man dragged him onto the bank, removing his gaff and pulling him up by the jacket.
His shoes were missing and his left ankle seemed to be severely dislocated, but the most frightening thing was the fact that he wasn't breathing. Yes, he wasn't breathing and his skin was nearly blue from the cold. He must have fallen through the ice somewhere else and the current had carried him. Perhaps there was some sort of life still buried inside him, it just needed some help.
Still, there was something the fisherman couldn't shake. He knew this man. He knew this newcomer even before he lifted the man's eyelids to see the icy blue irises beneath. He knew him from stone effigies and that familiar Østberg nose.
This was the late Prince Østberg.
And he had been dead for five years.
ns 18.68.41.175da2
