by S T Gibson
Helvig tipped her chin up a few inches, pointing silently to the walk. For a long moment, there was nothing, and Helvig’s protective grip on Gerda’s arm began to slacken.
"I thought I saw…" she began.
A metallic voice rang out from behind them, and every muscle in Helvig’s body stiffened.
"What is this?"
Gerda gasped and spun around, but Helvig was frozen in place. The world around her slowed to a crawl. Her chest had seized so tightly in pained her, and fear beyond anything she had ever experienced was squeezing her heart.
Impossible. It was impossible.
She felt that if she lost her nerve right then and crumpled unconscious into the snow, she may never wake up again.
Helvig turned around.
Astrid stood before her, terribly tall and terribly real with a beauty that burned like frostbite. Her once plump cheeks were starvation-hollow, and fractals of ice and tattered mist-gauze clung to a frame that had wasted away to almost nothing. Her skin had the grey cast of the dead and was pulled too tightly over cavernous collarbones and the jutting tendons of her thin hands. Her eyes were colorless mirrors.
Helvig gripped her knife with shaking hands. It seemed stupid now, to think that a bit of sharp metal would be of any use against a thing so absolutely alien. This wasn’t a rabbit she could gut over her knee, this was memory entombed in blue-white flesh, her own nightmare sprung to life.
Gerda swayed in front of Helvig, and for a moment the thief worried she may swoon from terror or drop to her knees in supplication. But then Gerda pulled her spine straight as a sword and said,
"We seek the queen at the top of the world."
Her voice did not waver. How long she had practiced saying that in her head?
The creature, neither woman nor ghost, tilted its head at her like an animal appraising prey.
"There is no queen here. No kings. No priests. Only me."
That sound like teeth dragging across ice was her voice, human words straining through vocal cords that were no longer fit for the task.
Helvig wanted to do something, to scream or cry or grab Gerda by the hand and drag her out of this godforsaken place. But she could only stare, the guilt she had carried for so long sitting inside her like lead.
Gerda took a step forward, her voice ringing through the empty space.
"Three years ago, you took someone from me. I have travelled the length of this country to get him back. Where is my brother?"
The Snow Queen turned her head one way and then the other, quasi-transparent tendrils of hair swirling weightless around her face. It could have once been Astrid’s honey-gold color, but was now so thin and pale that there was hardly any color in it at all.
"I demand to know what you’ve done with him," Gerda pressed on. "His name was Kai he was just eleven years old when you let him tie himself to your sleigh, and you never brought him back. He has my hair and brown eyes, and he loves reading ghost stories and playing with jacks, and…"
Her voice broke, and the little hiccup freed Helvig from her catatonic distress. No matter how her mind raced, she had to resist panic. Gerda needed her, and so would Kai, if he was anywhere to be found.
Helvig came up behind Gerda, one hand on her shoulder, the other gripping her knife. She wanted to be more comforting, but the eyes that had once belonged to Astrid were burning a hole in her forehead and robbing her of her strength.
"Gerda," she murmured.
"What have you done with him? Where is my brother?"
"Gerda," Helvig said, a little more firmly. She swallowed. "That’s Astrid."
Gerda swiveled to stare at Helvig.
"Your old sweetheart?"
Memories flashed through Helvig’s mind, of stealing a whole basket of hot biscuits from the bakery and sprinting across town to share them with Astrid before they cooled. They were an apology, for slipping in through Astrid’s bedroom window a half hour later than she had promised to the night before. She had been pinched for that, and berated until her ears burned, but when she presented her peace offering to Astrid, Astrid had laughed and kissed the sweet honey glaze from her fingers.
"Yes. No. I-I don’t know," Helvig stammered, long-buried recollections flooding back into her mind. God, they had been so young, and Astrid had touched her so sweetly during those furtive hours they had stolen in the apple orchards. But then the arguing had started, and the accusations. The last time Helvig had seen Astrid, Astrid had been cursing a blue streak while her father dragged Helvig by her hair down the stairs of their home. "I don’t think she recognizes me."
The Snow Queen stared through them, her feet leaving patterns of ice where they touched the ground. Bare feet, with overgrown nails and purplish veins. There was no way she could survive these conditions, but here she was, hovering on the brink of life and death with old magic holding her upright.
Some of the rage had left Gerda, and now she gazed at Helvig with her lips parted in dismay.
"Oh God, Helvig. Are you sure?"
"I would know her in my sleep."
And she had, hadn’t she? Hadn’t she suffered awful nightmares of a monster that wore Astrid face, and thought it a product of her addled mind?
I should have paid attention, she thought. I should have known.
Shock filtered through Gerda’s features, and then numb, nameless distress. All of the fight had gone out of her, and she looked very small facing down Astrid’s stately, if grotesquely thin, figure.
"Let me try," Helvig said, and stepped in front of Gerda.
She raised her hands up in what she hoped was a friendly, non-threatening gesture, despite the knife she still clutched point-down.
"We don't want trouble. We just want the boy."
The Snow Queen blinked with lashes long enough to trap a passing fly.
"Boy?"
Helvig took a wary step forward, ignoring the way Gerda snatched for her sleeve to pull her back
"Yes, the boy. We're looking for the children they say you've taken. Where are they?"
The creature pursed her lips while she thought. It was a gesture Helvig recognized from when Astrid was alive, when she was herself and not this revenant.
Another wave of anguish hit, so big it almost took Helvig's knees out from under her.
"Children? No, I don't have any children. Not anymore."
She felt like she might be torn in two if she had to stand between Gerda and the Queen much longer.
"What about the ones you..." Stole. Helvig was very aware that those nails, so much like talons, could open her throat with a single flick. "Found. Don't you remember a little boy in the town square in Copenhagen? You took him into your sled. Please. Try and remember."
A slow smile spread across the creature's face, and Helvig suppressed a shudder.
"Oh, yes. So sweet. So clever and talkative. I remember him."
Gerda strained forward, but Helvig pressed her back. She didn't know everything Gerda was capable of, or what she may do now to endanger either of them. As it was, their well-being felt like a thread stretched tight enough to snap.
"What have you done with him?"
"Kept him. Loved him. Brought him here so I can look at him always, and never be without him."
"Then where is he?"
The creature spread skeletal hands in front of her as though the answer were obvious.
"With all of them. Safe, below the ground."
Helvig blinked. Below the ground?
Her mind raced, trying to solve the riddle.
Did that mean...dead?
Gerda made an awful noise, and Helvig turned just in time to see her crumple to the ground.
Gerda tangled her fingers in her hair and screamed and screamed until there was no air left in her lungs. Then she folded over, pressing elbows and forehead to the ice, and let sobs wrack her body.
A lump rose in Helvig's throat, one she hadn't been expecting. In her time with Gerda she had come to care for Kai in her own way, as
a beloved shadow in Gerda's mind. But there was no time for mourning.
They needed to get out while they still could. Helvig had to pick up Gerda and convince her that it was worth it to go on living, that she could not give up and die in this God-forsaken place when they had only just met.
Helvig began to back away from the dead thing that wore Astrid's face, and then she stopped. An idea coursed through her like lightning.
Below the ground.
Helvig swept a foot across the frozen lake, disturbing the snow. The creature watched her silently, raising the hairs on the back of Helvig’s neck, but she worked diligently to clear the snow while Gerda shouted Kai’s name.
Beneath the layer of white, the ice was thick and partially opaque. But she could still see the unmistakable shape of a human hand drifting up towards the surface, captured in perpetuity.
"Christ’s blood," Helvig breathed.
She swept away a wider path of snow, sending flurries whirling up towards the sky. She must have looked ridiculous, but she kept on clearing snow and peering through dark waters until she found a swirl of black hair wrapped around a face in silhouette. A child. A girl.
"Gerda," she hissed. "Look."
Gerda’s pulled her reddened face up off the ground. She looked half-tethered to reality, but her eyes followed Helvig’s gaze.
Gerda gasped.
In an instant she had lost all interest in the Snow Queen, and she was back on her feet, her breath coming in heavy white puffs. She ran to and fro across the ice, sweeping snow away with the hems of her skirts and stooping to clear it with the flat of her palms. Helvig wanted to help her but didn’t feel comfortable turning her back on what was left of Astrid.
The creature watched Gerda with a curious hunger, touching the tips of her claws to the pads of her fingers. Just as Helvig was about to suggest they get out of there while they still could, Gerda cried,
"Kai!"
Gerda fell to her knees on the ice and began furiously sweeping away snow. A face emerged beneath the glassy sheen, pale-haired as Gerda with a young boy’s apple cheeks. He was suspended on his back, one arm stretched over his head, legs curling down into the murky water. He looked as though he were only sleeping.
Gerda pressed fingers against her brother’s mouth through the ice and let out a keening cry. Of agony or relief, it was impossible to say.
"Oh," The monster said softly, like she was watching a peach and violet sunset and not the unmaking of a young girl.
Gerda clawed frantically at the ground, leaving little streaks of red on the ice. After a moment, she remembered she still had her knife, and she began stabbing at the barrier that separated her from Kai. Tiny flakes of ice flew up and into her hair. She was rambling in Danish. A prayer, perhaps, or a curse.
The Snow Queen began to drift closer to the siblings, macabre curiosity scrawled across her face. Helvig sheathed her knife and sprang between them, holding up her palms. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, but she had to buy Gerda time however possible.
Helvig ran her tongue over cracked lips and summoned all the courage she had.
"Astrid." The word fell heavy from her lips, and it was a struggle to keep the fear out of her voice. She knew animals could smell it. Maybe ghosts could sense it too. Her breath was ragged. She wasn’t ready to do this. "Astrid, little sparrow, it’s me. It’s Helvig."
The terrible face turned towards her, studying. They were so close that two steps would close the distance between them. Did this creature even have access to memories of Astrid’s life on earth? Helvig couldn't be sure, and she didn’t know if she really wanted to find out.
"The highwayman’s daughter," the creature pronounced carefully. Strange light flashed in those colorless eyes.
"Yes, yes!" Helvig grasped at their tenuous connection to each other. "I told you stories! I called myself a princess, remember? Princess of Thieves."
Astrid—for now she looked much more like the girl Helvig had snuck through windows to kiss—drifted closer. Helvig could not be sure her feet were really touching the ground.
"Helvig," Astrid said, slow and soft.
A hand tipped with fingernails like talons reached for her face, and it took every ounce of will in Helvig’s body not to shrink back. She steeled herself and didn’t shudder when those nails scraped over her cheek.
"You came back," Astrid said. Helvig could have burst into tears. None of this was fair. She should never have to see Astrid again, and certainly not like this, an undying thrall of winter with bones so thin a fall might break them. She should never have to suffer watching Astrid’s dead face twinge with false hope.
The walls of the fort, so wide and spacious only seconds before, felt like they were pressing in around her. She couldn't live through this moment again, couldn't survive having something torn out of her when she told Astrid that she could not stay, could not save her.
"I came for the boy, little sparrow," she forced out. Tears swam in her vision. "You’re not well."
Another hand, colder than Helvig thought possible, came up to cup her face.
"I’ve missed you so much. Pretty Helvig. So alive."
"Yes, I’m alive, but I’m afraid...I’m afraid that you aren't. Not in the way you were."
Helvig's cheeks ached from the frigid touch. Whatever Astrid had become neither breathed nor blinked, just regarded her with glassy eyes.
"Stay with me," it cooed. "I’ll put you under the ground and have you with me always."
Helvig shook her head, slowly at first and then faster when she realized she could not break away. The grip on her face tightened painfully.
It isn’t her, Helvig urged herself, forcing the realization no matter how much it hurt. Astrid died in that ice storm. This is nothing but a vessel with a few of Astrid’s memories.
"I cannot. We’re taking the boy. Let him go." Then, with more force, "Let me go, Astrid."
The Snow Queen dragged her closer until her body was a ribbon of frost against Helvig’s stomach and chest. The robber convulsed involuntarily. If Astrid didn’t let go soon, Helvig would go into shock from the cold.
"Stay," Astrid ordered. She gripped Helvig’s face so tight the tip of her nails drew blood, and pulled her in for a kiss.
"Let me go!"
Helvig didn’t realize she was shouting until she heard her voice echo off the walls. Years of buried anger came bubbling up the surface and she thrashed against Astrid, the way she should have when Astrid had dragged her through her window and ordered her to stay with her always. The Snow Queen’s face was a rictus of hatred, teeth thin and sharp as needles bared.
Gerda was shouting, but Helvig couldn’t hear anything. The first time she and Astrid had parted ways, it had haunted Helvig for years. This time, it would happen the way she chose, and she would not live to regret failing to try and save herself.
Helvig writhed like an eel on a hook, nearly breaking the creature’s grasp, but then she was thrown down onto the ground, hard.
Her face throbbed where it was pressed against gritty ice. She barely had time to catch her breath before the Snow Queen dragged her up again by the collar of her shirt.
Helvig’s ribs seared with pain. A fracture maybe, or bruising so deep it purpled the bone. Fingers cinched around her throat and hoisted her up onto her tiptoes. Helvig wheezed and scratched uselessly at the deathgrip.
She was being suffocated in a grimy tangle of hair, pressed spine-creakingly tight to Astrid's chest. She would kill her like this, crushing her to death with her love. Black spots swam in Helvig’s vision.
"STOP!" Gerda yelled, louder than the roar of blood in Helvig’s ears. There was a dark cast to her voice that could only be a witch’s command. "Take me!"
The creature did not release her vise grip on Helvig’s throat, but she turned her face towards the witch.
"Gerda!" Helvig snarled. Her fear took the shape of anger, otherwise it would have crippled her, but one word was all she could
manage with the life being choked out of her.
"I summon the spirits of this land, and of the water and sky," Gerda pronounced, voice strong even though she had screamed it to tatters. She was on her feet, standing over her brother’s frozen body with fists clenched and her face tipped up at the sky. Blue only moments ago, it was now covered over with fast-moving grey clouds. "I invoke you, winter! I welcome your embrace! Take mercy on me in my misery and deliver me from this torment!"
Helvig was dropped unceremoniously back onto the ice. She wheezed and blinked as Gerda’s face came back into focus. Churchbells rang in her ears.
The revenant glided towards Gerda, but the witch continued her invocation with tears freezing on her cheeks.
"I’m willing; take me! You can take this body for you own ends and I will serve you well, I swear on my blood. Only give me power over the ice so I can save the ones I love. This is all I ask in exchange for my life!"
Gusts of wind gathered themselves into a dervish around Gerda’s feet, catching her long hair up in a vortex. She looked half-possessed.
God in heaven, she meant to make a deal with them.
"Gerda," Helvig rasped, slipping on the ice as she tried to pull herself back up. "Don’t."
Overhead, the clouds roiled into a darker shade of gunmetal. Gerda was still shouting, daring nature itself to take her into its frigid embrace, and the Snow Queen shrieked in rage. She batted away the chunks of ice and debris that flew out of the maelstrom and pressed in towards the witch, claws raised against the wind.
She would kill her, Helvig realized. She would slash open Gerda’s chest and bleed her dry if it meant keeping her prizes safely below the ground.
Helvig was on her feet well before she was steady on them, moving out of wild terror.
The wind nearly knocked her backward, but she put her head down and pumped her burning legs until she made headway through the gale. A dislodged rock flying through the air clipped her shoulder hard enough to make her cry out, and she worried something inside her may have come loose, but she kept scrambling forward.
Astrid was mere feet away now, straining to grab a fistful of Gerda’s hair, but Helvig was close behind.
She knew what she needed to do. Without thinking twice, she seized the narrow window she had been given to do it in.
