Hope soared in me. “Really?” Did this mean I would break the curse?

“We were out among nature, surrounded by trees not unlike these.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “This vision told me something: You’ve already made the choice in your heart. Give me a wish. Help these people.”

I took in the flattened camp. I wanted to help them in so many ways—give them back their water source, give them a better king, give them safe places to live . . .

It wasn’t a want; it was a need. I needed to live. I needed to be the Wishtress I was meant to be. And I wanted to earn a place in that book—to write my story of victory and service to the people. To pass on a legacy of hope and healing.

But the longer I looked at the people, the more I caught their sideways glances. Their suspicion as I talked to their leader—as he constantly sought me out and opened his tent for my comfort. The idea of traveling on foot for who knew how long with these strangers, limping my way, brought on a new feeling of vulnerability.

“They don’t trust me,” I said.

“But I trust you. And they trust me.” He followed my gaze and resolve turned his jaw firm. “I can change this.”

Sven led me by the hand into the gathered crowd and climbed a boulder before the people. Like domestic fish drawn to a sprinkle of bread crumbs, they drifted toward him, ready to consume his words. He lifted both hands and that was all it took for them to quiet.

“Today we head for the Well. It’s time for action.” The people cheered. I was silent among them, too busy trying to figure out what had spurred this action. This speech. “I can change this,” he’d said. What did he mean?

“The king wants to steal the Well from us, but we’re going to take it for ourselves!”

More cheers.

I folded my arms. Was he going to provide them with any content, or would this be a motivational marching speech?

“We’ll be traveling quickly to beat the king’s militairen. We’re heading north. The cold is coming. If there’s anything we commonfolk have as an advantage over the king and his ilk, it’s our durability in harsh weather and our knowledge of the ice. With any luck we’ll be at the Trials by full moon.”

I was no stranger to cold, but I’d never slept in it before. I spent the days skating, but always returned to a warm home with a crackling fire and soup in a pot.