Dangerous Secrets Read online

  Copyright © 2020 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Buena Vista Books, Inc. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1200 Grand Central Avenue, Glendale, California 91201.

  ISBN 978-1-368-06670-9

  Visit disneybooks.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue: The Dark Sea

  Chapter One: Iduna: Twenty-Six Years Earlier

  Chapter Two: Iduna

  Chapter Three: Iduna

  Chapter Four: Angarr

  Chapter Five: Iduna: One Month Later

  Chapter Six: Agnarr

  Chapter Seven: Iduna

  Chapter Eight: Iduna

  Chapter Nine: Iduna: Four Years Later

  Chapter Ten: Iduna

  Chapter Eleven: Agnarr

  Chapter Twelve: Iduna

  Chapter Thirteen: Iduna

  Chapter Fourteen: Agnarr

  Chapter Fifteen: Iduna

  Chapter Sixteen: Iduna

  Chapter Seventeen: Iduna

  Chapter Eighteen: Iduna: Six Weeks Later

  Chapter Nineteen: Agnarr

  Chapter Twenty: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-One: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Agnarr

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Iduna

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Agnarr

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Iduna

  Chapter Thirty: Agnarr

  Chapter Thirty-One: Iduna

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Agnarr

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Iduna

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Iduna

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Iduna

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Iduna

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Agnarr

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Agnarr

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Agnarr

  Chapter Forty: Iduna

  Chapter Forty-One: Iduna: Six Months Later

  Chapter Forty-Two: Iduna: Three Year Later

  Chapter Forty-Three: Iduna: Eight Years Later

  Chapter Forty-Four: Agnarr

  Chapter Forty: Five: Agnarr: Later That Night

  Chapter Forty-Six: Iduna: Ten Years Later

  Chapter Forty-Seven: Iduna

  Chapter Forty-Eight: Iduna

  Epilogue: Iduna

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  THE STORM IS GETTING WORSE.

  Lightning slashes across an angry black sky, soon followed by the crash of thunder. Waves pound against the ship’s hull as I grip the wooden rail with white knuckles. Fierce gusts of wind tug my hair free from its braid, and damp brown strands whip at my face. I don’t dare let go to brush them away.

  Instead, I keep my eyes on the sea. Looking for her.

  In some ways, I’ve spent my entire life looking for her. And tonight, my journey may finally come to an end. Unfinished. Unfound.

  Ahtohallan. Please! I need you!

  Perhaps she never existed at all. Perhaps she was simply a myth. A silly song to lull children to sleep. To make them feel safe and secure in a world that’s anything but. Perhaps I was a fool to think we could simply go and seek her out. Learn the mother’s secrets.

  I do know something about a mother’s secrets.

  Another wave sweeps in, bashing against the ship’s hull, sending a spray of icy seawater splashing at my face. I stumble backward, momentarily blinded by the salt stinging my eyes. A strong pair of hands clamps down on my hips; a solid chest at my back keeps me upright.

  I turn, already knowing whom I’ll find standing tall behind me. The man who has been with me almost my entire life. The man who has made me laugh—and cry—more than anyone else in the world. My husband. The father of my daughters. My enemy. My friend.

  My love.

  Agnarr, king of Arendelle.

  “Come, Iduna,” he says, pulling me around to face him. He reaches out, clasping my hands in his. They are as warm and strong as mine are cold and trembling.

  I look up, taking in the sharp line of his jaw. The fierceness in his leaf-green eyes. If he’s frightened, he’s not showing it. “We need to go below deck,” he says, shouting to be heard over the furious wind. “Captain’s orders. It’s not safe up here. One rogue wave could knock you overboard.”

  I feel a sob rise to my throat. I want to lash out, protest the orders. I’m fine. I can take care of myself. I’m not some silly girl frightened by the elements.

  But what I really want to say is, I can’t leave. I haven’t found her yet.

  If I go below, I may never find her.

  And if I don’t…

  Elsa. My sweet Elsa…My dear Anna…

  Agnarr gives me a pointed look. I sigh, untangling my hands from his, and begin stumbling toward the stairs that lead to our cabin below, on legs unaccustomed to rough seas. I’m almost there when the ship suddenly pitches hard to the left and I lose my footing, grabbing on to the railing to save myself. I can feel a few of the crew watching me with concern, but I push forward, keeping my head held high. I am a queen, after all. There are certain expectations.

  Once below, I push open our cabin door and move inside, letting it bang shut behind me. The captain has given us his cabin for the journey, which I insisted wasn’t necessary, but I was overruled. It’s the only cabin suited for a fine lady, he protested. Because that’s how he sees me. That’s how they all see me now. A fine lady. A perfectly poised Arendellian queen.

  But now, at last, Agnarr knows the truth.

  I ease myself down on the bed, reaching to grab my knitting needles and my half-finished project. An inappropriate task under the circumstances, but perhaps the only thing that might steady my hands—my pounding heart. I can hear Agnarr push open the door, his strong, solid presence filling the room. But I don’t look up. Instead, I start to knit as the ship rocks beneath my feet. It’s dark down below, too dark to really see the delicate yarn, but my hands are sure and true, the repetitive motions as natural and familiar to me as taking in air. Yelana would be proud.

  Yelana. Is she still out there, in the Enchanted Forest, still locked in the mist?

  Only Ahtohallan knows.

  Suddenly, I want to throw my needles across the room. Or collapse on the bed in tears. But I do neither, keeping my attention on the unfinished shawl. Forcing myself to let each stitch lull me into something resembling comfort.

  Agnarr pulls out a wooden stool from the captain’s desk, sitting down across from me. He picks up a corner of the unfinished shawl, running his large fingers across the tiny stitches. I dare to sneak a peek at him, realizing his eyes have become soft and faraway.

  “This is the same pattern,” he says slowly. And I know what he means without asking. Because of course it is. I hadn’t even realized it when I started, but of course it is.

  The same pattern as the shawl my mother knitted me when I was a baby.

  The shawl that saved his life.

  “It’s an old Northuldra pattern,” I explain, surprised how easily the words leave my mouth now that the truth is known. “Belonging to my family.” I pick up his hand and place it on each symbol in turn. “Earth, fire, water, wind.” I pause on the wind symbol, thinking back to Gale. “It was the Wind Spirit who helped me save your life that day in the forest.”

  He gives a low whistle. “A wind spirit! If only I’d known,” he says, reaching up to bru
sh his thumb gently across my cheek. Even after all these years, his touch still sparks a longing ache deep inside, and it’s an imperative, not an option, to drop my needles to return the gesture. To run my fingers against the light stubble of his jaw. “It would have made my stories to the girls so much more interesting.”

  I smile at this. I can’t help it. He has always found a way to help me find sunshine amidst the gloomiest of days. It’s strange, though, to realize he knows everything now. After a lifetime overshadowed with secrets, it should feel freeing.

  But in truth, it still scares me a little, and I find myself glancing at him when he doesn’t know I’m looking. Trying to see, trying to know whether the truth has changed his feelings toward me. Does he resent me for keeping so much from him for so long? Or does he truly understand why I did it? If we survive this night, how will things change between us? Will the truth bring us closer together? Or tear us apart?

  Only Ahtohallan knows….

  I reach out and take Agnarr’s hands in mine, meeting his deep green eyes with my blue ones. I swallow down the lump in my throat that threatens to choke me, and force another smile.

  “I will never forget that day,” I start with a whisper, not sure he can even hear me over the tempest outside. “That horrible, wonderful day.”

  “Tell me,” he whispers back, leaning in close. I can feel his breath on my lips. Our faces are inches away. “Tell me everything.”

  I swallow all the words that threaten to jump out of my throat in a hurried rush, throwing myself back on the bed, staring up at the wooden-beamed ceiling. After I breathe calmly, I say, “That might take all night.”

  He crawls onto the bed, lying down next to me. He reaches out and curls his hand into mine. “For you, I’ve got forever.”

  I swallow hard, tears welling in my eyes. I want to protest: we don’t have forever. Or even all night. We may not have an hour, judging from the way the wooden beams of the ship are creaking and cracking. But at the same time, it doesn’t matter. It’s time. It’s long past time. He deserves to know everything.

  I swipe the tears away, rolling to my side and propping my head up with my elbow. “You have to tell your part, too,” I say. “This story isn’t only mine, you know.”

  His arm curls around my waist, his hand settling at the small of my back as he tugs me closer to him. He’s so warm. How is it possible that he’s still so warm? “I think I can manage that,” he says with a small smile. “But you must start. It all began with you, after all.”

  “All right,” I say, resting my head on his chest, his steady heartbeat against my ear. I close my eyes, trying to decide where to begin. So much has happened over the years. But there is that one day. One fateful day that changed the course of both our lives forever.

  I open my eyes. “It all starts with the wind,” I say. “My dear friend Gale.”

  As I speak, the words begin to course through me like the forbidding waters roiling outside. And like the waters, I will finally make myself heard.

  Agnarr will listen.

  He’s always been the storyteller in our family. But not this time. Now it’s my turn to tell the tale.

  “STOP IT! YOU’RE TICKLING ME!”

  I squealed in protest as the wind swirled around me, twirling me off my feet.

  Gale, the Wind Spirit, seemed particularly, well, spirited this morning, tossing me playfully toward the sky, then catching me in a soft cushion of air as I fell back to the earth. My stomach dipped and rolled with each up and down motion as I tried to wrestle my way back to the ground. But I didn’t put up too much of a fight. After all, this was the closest I, a human girl, could come to flying.

  And who didn’t want to fly?

  “Where have you gone to, Iduna?” Yelana’s voice cut through the forest. “Come back here and finish your knitting!”

  Uh-oh. Gale dropped me unceremoniously onto my butt, swirling away quickly to hide behind a nearby oak. The Wind Spirit knew better than to mess with Yelana when she came calling. I groaned and rolled my eyes as I scrambled to my feet.

  “Coward,” I scolded.

  Gale swept up a small pile of leaves, creating an overly exaggerated Yelana-shaped leaf monster, complete with scolding finger. I couldn’t help a small laugh. “Yes, yes, I know. She can be scary. But still! You’re the Wind Spirit!”

  I turned my gaze toward the direction of our camp, where Yelana was probably sitting near the fire with the rest of the women. Knitting. Who could sit around and knit on a day like that? The sky was awake! Brilliant sunlight streamed through the canopy of trees above. It was the perfect backdrop for the day’s impending celebration: the completion of the pact between us, the Northuldra, and the Arendellians, who lived in a stone city on the banks of the fjord.

  They’d come to us years ago with an offer of peace and goodwill, promising to build a mighty dam to help us water our reindeer and keep our land fertile and fresh. I didn’t really understand the whole thing, and I wasn’t sure our elders were completely sold on the idea at first. But in the end, they came to an agreement and the dam was built. That day we would feast together to mark this new alliance between our people and theirs.

  It was a day to dance and sing and celebrate the beauty of the forest.

  Not sit around and knit.

  Besides, I was only twelve years old. Which meant I literally had ages to learn boring grown-up things like knitting. Not to mention I already had a perfectly good knitted shawl to keep me warm. I hugged it to my chest, running my fingertips along the intricate patterns depicting the four spirits. My mother had made it for me when I was a baby, and I’d worn it ever since. I remembered her now, cuddling my five-year-old self close as I breathed in her warm, earthy scent. Listening to her sing sweet songs about a river of memories.

  Memories were all I had left of my mother now. My father, too.

  I shook the memories away, turning back to Gale, who was busy stirring up a pile of brown leaves into a small whirlwind. I bowed playfully to the spirit as I moved farther away from Yelana and her call to return to knitting.

  “May I have this dance, fine sir?”

  “But of course, my fair lady!” I replied in my best approximation of a wind spirit’s voice. Gale couldn’t talk like normal people could. But sometimes I swore I could hear the spirit sing. Sweet, high notes so heartbreakingly beautiful I felt as if I could get lost in them.

  Gale picked me up again, with more force this time, twirling me back into the air. This time I didn’t bother to fight it. “Higher!” I begged instead. “Higher than the treetops! I want to see the entire world!”

  “Anything you wish, Princess!” I made the wind respond as it pulled me higher and higher until we rose above the trees and into open blue sky.

  I wasn’t really a princess, of course. We didn’t even have royalty here in the forest. Instead, we had a council of elders, which was basically a bunch of wise old people who liked to sit around and give advice. Other voices should be invited to the conversation, even if they didn’t always agree with each other. For one person to rule over all, the elders would say, wasn’t good.

  But in the books the Arendellians brought to our villages as gifts while building the dam, there were often princesses. And princes and kings and queens, too, who were breathtakingly beautiful and wore fine clothes and jewels and lived in mighty castles like the one down on the fjord. Some were good and helped their people prosper while keeping the peace. Others were evil and did not appreciate all that was given to them. They would scorch the earth for their own selfish gain, not caring who got hurt in the process.

  If I ever became a princess, I’d be one of the good ones for sure.

  “Whoa! Who’s that? Hey, come here, little fellow.”

  I almost fell out of the wind’s embrace as I whirled around, my eyes locking on a strange boy far below me, trudging down the reindeer path. He didn’t look much older than me, with thick blond hair and a strange fitted green jacket and a shirt as red as the
autumn leaves underneath his feet. As I watched from above, he knelt to the ground, reaching out to try to pet a small rabbit that was sniffing the grass nearby. The rabbit, of course, was having none of this and quickly hopped away. The boy got to his feet just in time to find himself inches away from the daily reindeer parade to the watering hole, and, with a startled look, he leapt backward. I rolled my eyes. Hadn’t he ever seen reindeer before?

  One of the baby reindeer lagged behind the rest, going up to him and sniffing him curiously. The boy’s face brightened and he dropped to his knees, pulling the creature into his arms and cuddling it as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. It made me smile.

  I was about to tell Gale to set me down so I could introduce myself when I heard an angry voice cut through the trees.

  “Agnarr! Where are you?”

  The baby reindeer froze. It squirmed out of the boy’s—Agnarr’s—arms and raced in the direction of the herd. Agnarr watched it go, a sad expression taking over his face. The voice came again. Louder this time. More impatient. His shoulders slumped and he ran toward it, disappearing from view.

  It was then that it all started to come together. He must be one of the Arendellians!

  “Come on, Gale! Let’s follow him!” I cried, any thought of adhering to Yelana’s impatient call forgotten. “I want to see their camp!”

  Gale obliged, whisking me in the direction Agnarr had gone, opposite the path of the reindeer herd. A few moments later, a small camp came into view. There were tents set up around a central firepit, though they were much different from the huts we used, which consisted of a tripod of poles covered by flat wooden slats. These tents were more like little houses made of brightly colored fabrics and topped with tiny flags fluttering gaily in the breeze. In the center, plopped down on the firepit, was a huge black cauldron, bubbling over with a delicious-smelling stew.

  “Put me down,” I whispered to Gale. “I want to get a better look.”

  The Wind Spirit lowered me gently. Once on the ground, I crept closer to the camp, using the trees for cover. The place was bustling with activity. Men and women of varying hair and skin colors stood at attention, dressed in identical green outfits, long sheathed swords hanging from their belts, burnished metal shields held at the ready. Soldiers, I supposed. There were also everyday citizens dressed in colorful embroidered vests and dresses. The cloth was so fine, I wanted to walk up and run it through my fingers to see what it would feel like.