King of the Frost

by Elizabeth Frost

  Damn it. She should never have told him about that.

  Ayla sighed, rolled her eyes, and then finally relented. “All right, all right. I’ll go back.”

  “Now?”

  “Aren’t you trying to get rid of me?” she snapped. “Is that what’s happening here?”

  He paled. “No. You know I’d never get rid of you. I just think it’s curious a bunch of tornadoes and hurricanes have been popping up all over the world and no one can figure out why they’re happening at the same time.”

  Her stomach bottomed out and a cold sweat slicked her skin. “Excuse me?”

  “Look, I know you don’t like to watch the news because it makes you sad. And I get that humans aren’t exactly great at taking care of the planet, or each other. However, I think maybe this is something you should monitor? Coincidences aren’t real.”

  That was something their father used to say. Her human dad, who believed anyone could will themselves into a happier life if they just worked hard enough.

  Tornados? Hurricanes? It could all just be happening because the earth was complaining, but maybe she should check. Just in case.

  With a sharp nod, she glanced at the twins, then back at her brother. “Say goodbye to them for me? I’ll be back soon. Faster than last time, I promise.”

  “Just... Don’t let him do anything foolish. Yeah?” Henry’s brow wrinkled with worry. “I like the world the way it is. Scars and all.”

  Ayla couldn’t imagine Storm would do something drastic. Like destroy the planet. He had too big of a heart, and too level a head for that to be his plan.

  Although, when she wasn’t there, the faeries had claimed him to be a monster. Sure, she had seen only a hint of that side, but he couldn’t be so bad. Just because she was around didn’t mean he changed who he was entirely... Did it?

  Power flowed through her body. Electricity crackled at her fingertips and then dissipated into her skin as it melted away. She became the air, a breeze that zipped past Henry’s head and up toward the clouds.

  Magic had come a little easier these days. Perhaps it was the amount of magic he’d poured into her veins only a week ago. Or maybe he’d convinced her to not be afraid of what she could do. Either way, Ayla knew how to control herself now.

  The clouds tugged at her breezy form. They parted like cotton candy sometimes, other times trying to fill her with water so she joined them in their meandering stroll. Someday, she’d indulge them. Just to see what it was like to float by the world and rain when she felt like crying.

  Now, she had a glass palace to investigate.

  Ayla reached the end of her journey in record time. She landed in the gardens with a soft thud, her body solidifying.

  “Storm?” she called out.

  Silence was the response.

  The glass palace was always eerie, no matter when she walked through it. But usually she could sense the presence of life. Storm, though he’d tried to hide, had filled this place with his magic and power. She’d always shivered just a little, waiting for him to come out of the shadows and greet her.

  This time, she didn’t feel his presence at all. There was nothing here but the quiet of a tomb and dust floating through the air like faerie orbs.

  Ayla made her way inside the palace, calling out for him a few times before it finally settled into reality. He wasn’t here. He’d left, perhaps a while ago, and she had no idea how to find him.

  Why would he leave? It made little sense. He had a perfect home here. He knew she would return, that’s why she’d left the picture.

  Ayla had explained why that photo was so important to her. That was her family and obviously she would want the portrait back. Unless he had thought it was a goodbye gift. Now that she thought about it, he could easily have misinterpreted her meaning behind leaving the picture.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “What have I done?”

  A familiar ghostly voice replied, “I don’t know, princess. What have you done?”

  She turned to see Miku standing behind her, twisting her transparent skirts in her hands. The ghost looked worse for wear. Her edges were too thin and ragged. Worry and fear made her look as though she wasn’t even real.

  “Miku?” she asked, hesitant. “Are you all right?”

  “The king is no longer here. The king has to be here for all of us to stay...” She paused, fading out of sight before reappearing again. “Oh Ayla, when did you get here?”

  The ghosts weren’t themselves without the power of the king. She could make that connection herself. Ayla’s heart squeezed painfully. Miku didn’t even remember seeing her before, as if Ayla hadn’t even spoken to her.

  “I got here a little while ago,” she replied. “Are you okay?”

  Miku blinked, then frowned once more. “No, I don’t think I am. But I don’t know what’s wrong either.”

  Her heart broke for the ghosts of abandoned faeries. More appeared behind Miku. Hundreds until they were all packed shoulder to shoulder next to each other. All stared at her with a question in their gaze and none had to vocalize it.

  Would she help them?

  Ayla stood at a crossroads in her life. She could return home and hope Storm wouldn’t go through with his plan. He might stop himself just before the destruction harmed the planet. Or he wouldn’t, and at least she would be with her family when the end came. There was no certainty she’d even be able to stop him.

  Or, she could step into the role she was meant to have. The role she’d avoided her entire life.

  One ghost stepped forward. The woman was tall and lithe, almost too beautiful to look at with her waist length white hair and eyes that glimmered like stars.

  Ayla didn’t have to ask who this woman was. She knew just by looking at her.

  After all, they both had the same shaped face and the exact same nose.

  “I gave you up not only because I never wanted to be a mother.” Her voice was cold and sharp. “But because I saw in you something that frightened me.”

  Ayla’s throat closed up. Finally, she would get the answers she always wanted. The answers she’d always feared. “What frightened you?”

  “Power, daughter of mine. Blood of my blood. You were infinitely more powerful than any faerie I had ever seen before, and you were just a child. You could do things no faerie should be able to do, and I knew the day would come when the elemental would transfer to you. And then it would consume you.”

  Consume? Ayla shook her head. “I’m not that powerful. I’m just a nanny.”

  “There is enough power in you to stop him, and he is the element of air. You are more than just a nanny. All you have to do is become the creature you were always meant to be. The Queen of the Air Court is not a weak woman, and she does not let any self doubt stop her from doing what is right.”

  The queen faded once again. Her spirit weakened by the disappearance of the king.

  “Wait!” Ayla called out. “If you sent me away, did you not want me to be queen?”

  Her birth mother’s voice sighed through the room. “I didn’t want the elemental to get his claws into you. With the power inside you, he would have corrupted you and destroyed the world. Now, he’ll use the Mad King, anyway. I stopped nothing by giving you up.”

  Why did no one give Storm credit for the kindness in his heart? Why did no one else see what she saw?

  Even if she had to track him down, Ayla intended on proving to them all he could not only be stopped, but he could be saved. Her very heart depended on it.

  Ayla straightened her shoulders, stiffened her spine, then nodded at Miku, whose gaze had cleared. “How do I find the king?”

  Miku grinned. “All you have to do is ask the wind to find him.”

  And so she did.

  26

  Power not only made him swift, it made him strong. Storm surged through the air currents all around the world.

  He called upon all the elements of the air. Storm clouds brewed at his fingertips and lightning struck the
earth. Hurricanes woke and thundered across the sea toward the shore where they would break and destroy. Hail and ice fell in shards upon the humans who deserved fear.

  He couldn’t quite remember what they’d done to him, but he knew it was bad. Evil. So awful he couldn’t bear the memories that had sent him on this rampage.

  They would pay for what they’d done. He wouldn’t survive it otherwise.

  Storm floated above a town and watched the humans scramble back into their homes. He didn’t care how fast they ran or how sturdy they locked their doors. The air would find them. It was what kept them alive.

  A voice whispered in his ear, “They have much to learn. Soon, they will know our face and fear us.”

  Something small inside his chest twisted at the thought. Perhaps it was his heart, although that made little sense. He wasn’t a sympathetic man. Storm didn’t care if the humans feared him. He didn’t care if they wanted to run and hide. They should.

  And yet, the ache persisted.

  He rubbed his chest, trying to push the feeling back underneath his skin and beyond. Into the cavern of his mind where it would remain and no longer bother him. He didn’t want the emotion or the guilt eating his soul.

  “You’re doing the right thing.”

  Was he? He couldn’t think straight right now. All he knew was that the humans were running inside because of the hail raining down upon their homes. He could see the frost trailing across the ground and reaching for them. Soon it would reach their doors and slip into whatever nook or cranny it could find.

  They would freeze to death even if they stood so close to the fire that it burned them. No human would understand the terrifying magic attacking them, and none would understand how to stop it. Only a witch could try, and even she would fail.

  Storm paused in mid air, hovering above the town and tilting his head back to let the wind stroke his neck. Why couldn’t he remember so many things? He didn’t even remember yesterday, let alone a single moment other than right now in this town.

  How many towns had he visited?

  “Focus, Storm. We have much work to do.”

  The creature sounded like it was someone he’d known for a very long time. He couldn’t put his thumb on when and where he’d met the being, however.

  “Why are you focusing on trivial things? Move, King. We don’t have time to sit here and ponder our existence.”

  But he should have time to do just that. He should be able to do whatever he wanted to do if he was king.

  Right?

  He opened his mouth to reply to the voice only to hear a haunting call on the wind. A voice beckoned him somewhere other than this. A voice that sounded like a lullaby and was filled with so much sorrow it made his heart ache.

  Storm turned toward the wind where the sound danced and traced it with his fingertip. The call had words that shaped the air into curls of iridescence. He’d seen this before, this kind of magic radiating beauty and infinite possibilities.

  He just couldn’t remember where.

  “Do not listen to that siren song,” the creature in his head snapped. “We’re wasting time, don’t you hear me?”

  Oh, he heard the creature. He’d been listening to its complaints for a very long time. “I’ll come back and finish what I started,” he murmured. “But first, I want to know who is making that sound.”

  The song wrapped around his entire body and dragged him away from the town. He let the wind pull him into the air current that rushed him toward... something.

  This air was familiar. Warm and comforting when he thought he’d only ever felt cold. Why was his heart so chilly? Why were goosebumps always decorating his arms when he could remember a time when they hadn’t?

  No, he couldn’t remember that time at all. There was nothing before this moment when he floated in the air above that village.

  And yet, that thought made little sense. Logic said he’d most certainly existed before that moment, otherwise, he wouldn’t have gotten there. He had been a person and his memories were gone.

  He’d lived... Storm flicked his gaze up and stared at the monolithic glass palace that appeared in midair before him. The sun glinted off the many glass panes and turned the entire building into something on fire with clouds, sky, and sun.

  Here. He’d lived here for many years and before that he had visited this place with his heart in his throat. As it was now.

  What a beautiful place. He wondered how many people had lived here over the years, but he couldn’t remember their names. Their faces. The stories that came with their souls. Had he been a servant?

  No. A man as powerful as him hadn’t been a servant. And the creature in his mind called him a king.

  “Do not follow her siren call,” the being warned. “She will tear us apart and ruin everything!”

  He didn’t listen.

  Storm followed the melodic sound of the woman’s voice all the way to the steps of the palace. He landed on the glass floor and tilted his head to the side, listening intently. The murmured lyrics of her voice turned into something he could make out. Words more than sound.

  “Storm,” she hummed. “Return to me.”

  Over and over again she said the words until she stopped. He froze in place, wondering if this witch had known he arrived. Only to have her continue mere moments later. Perhaps her throat had gone raw. He didn’t know how long she’d been calling for him.

  “Your people need you,” she said, her voice deep and sorrowful. “Without you here, they grow weak and tired. I know they haven’t treated you well, but you are a good king. A good man. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone and I know you wouldn’t hurt me. So please, come home. Let me explain.”

  Why did she have to explain? He didn’t know who she was, although she knew who he was. Storm didn’t know if that was worse or better.

  Swallowing hard, he followed the sound of her voice through the glass palace. Past clear rooms stuffed with furniture and things people used to live in comfort. Vague memories formed in his mind. All he knew were that the rooms were wrong. There should be people in those glass boxes, wearing delicate clothing that floated about them like clouds.

  “Stop!” the creature cried in his mind. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You will regret this, Storm. Please trust me.”

  He didn’t trust the voice. He trusted her, and he didn’t know why.

  He strode into an empty room with a throne at the center. A woman stood before it, staring up at the structure made of ice spikes reaching up to the ceiling.

  She wore human clothing. Simple jeans and a white t-shirt. Her hair was braided and he couldn’t see her face as she remained facing away from him. Instantly, the heat of anger boiled in his veins. A human? Here?

  He hated humans. He knew that deep in his core without having to remember a thing. They were the problem in this world. They polluted, they destroyed, they cared little for the planet they lived on. It was their fault the faeries had to hide away their magic.

  “Who are you?” he thundered. His voice echoed throughout the room, rumbling with magic and power that crackled at his fingertips. “And what are you doing in front of my throne?”

  He didn’t know for certain it was his throne. The words felt right, however. As though he’d known all along this was where he should be.

  Then she turned.

  He knew that face. That heart-shaped face with enormous eyes and bow-shaped lips that made him want to press a thousand kisses against their velvety softness.

  The strange woman opened her eyes wide and looked him up and down. “Oh Storm,” she whispered. “What has that creature done to you?”

  What creature? The one in his head? As far as he could remember, it did nothing. He was merely doing what he’d always been meant to do. He survived, destroyed the humans, and saved the earth from their wrath.

  The anger bubbled in him again at her careless words. If she was human, she should know what her people had done.

  Something
about her made him deny any human blood within her body. She smelled like salt air, lilacs, and spring. Her hair glittered in the sunlight and her skin was smooth like the glass walls around them. There were a thousand things about her screaming faerie blood.

  He took another step closer and narrowed his eyes. “Do you know me?”

  “I do.”

  “How?” The answer felt more important than breathing.

  “You are my king,” she replied. Though she didn’t take another step closer or move at all, he somehow felt as though she’d wiggled into his heart with those words. “I would consider myself to be a friend of yours. More if we allowed it, although I made a mistake I’m afraid might have been the reason you lost your memories.”

  “What mistake?” He could feel it just beyond his reach. The memory hovered in the air before him. A memory of who she was, what had happened, and why he was so angry all the time.

  Power burned in his heart. It reached for her, wanting to touch, to share, to taste all that she was.

  Tears well in her eyes. He didn’t want to see those. The mere glittering liquid made him want to shatter the world just so he could use it as a handkerchief to stop her pain. She should never cry in front of him.

  Storm took another step forward. “What mistake?”

  There was only a few feet between them now. He could reach out and touch her if he wanted. But it felt important to allow her answer to be said before he held her in his arms again.

  Her throat worked in a gulp before she opened her mouth. “I left. And I shouldn’t have, not when I knew you were here and struggling. It’s the greatest regret of my life. I want you to know that. Not because it made you listen to that monster inside you, but because I should have trusted you. And I should have trusted that our future would not be what I feared it to be.”

  All the memories of the past few weeks rushed through his skull, slamming into him with all the power and force of a hurricane. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe as he suddenly relived the most important moments of his life all at once.

  Every emotion swelled. Fear, guilt, excitement, love.