Crown of Ice

by Victoria Gilbert

  “Sephia, how surprising to find you here.” I stride into the center of the clearing.

  “Who are you?” Ravn moves away as I draw closer. He’s glancing about and his hands are clenched. When his gaze falls on a dark-haired girl standing at the edge of the clearing he visibly relaxes. Of course, he’s making certain his daughter’s safe.

  “I am Thyra Winther.” I say to Ravn. “And I am the Snow Queen.”

  “Here to stop Gerda, are you?” Sephia smiles sweetly. “Perhaps you should have spoken with her instead of sleeping.” Sephia’s eyes are as green as spring leaves.

  “I have spoken with her.” I pace slowly, circling the enchantress. “I know she’s determined to locate her friend, Kai Thorsen.”

  “The boy she loves.”

  “Yes. But I think, if you care, you’d encourage her to go home. Especially after this incident. She’s fortunate to still be alive.”

  “That would suit you, wouldn’t it, Snow Queen?” Sephia lays her hand on Ravn’s arm, preventing him from moving away from us. “Then you’d be free to complete the mirror with no interference.”

  “What mirror?” Ravn’s dark eyes sweep over me, his gaze coming to rest on the golden chain about my neck. “You lied to me.”

  I touch the chain with two fingers. “I didn’t lie. I simply didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

  “You didn’t reveal your true form.”

  “No, I did not. But you see, I am that other girl too. Just Thyra Winther.”

  Ravn’s eyes darken. “You’re not just anything. I gave you the mirror fragment, thinking you an emissary from Mael Voss. Now I find you’re the Snow Queen, with magic of your own. How do I know you won’t keep the shard for yourself, and my people will still suffer Voss’s wrath?”

  “I’ve no interest in the mirror once it’s completed.” I shove my unruly white curls away from my face. “And I’ve no desire to see you or your people punished. The shard’s in my possession—that’s enough. Now, if Sephia will allow me to depart without further incident, I’ll trouble you no more.”

  Sephia moves toward me. “I cannot permit you leave with that necklace.”

  I throw up my hand, palm facing out. A blast of cold air knocks Ravn off his feet. Sephia plants her legs apart, bending but not crumpling under the force of the freezing gusts. Her fingers trace a figure-eight in the air and a warm breeze swirls through my icy whirlwind.

  A column of mist forms as our winds collide, filling the clearing with clouds. There is nothing but whiteness, punctuated in the next instant by Sephia’s hand thrusting toward me. I grab her fingers and allow blighting cold to seep through my skin.

  The acid touch of frost forces Sephia to rip her fingers from my hand. She cries out in pain as the mist clears, disclosing a tableau of Ravn and several of his men flanking the enchantress. Sephia stares at me, her emerald eyes glittering. She’s cradling her injured hand against her breast.

  “This one”—Sephia jabs toward me with her other hand—“brings nothing but death. Ice and snow and the blight of winter. Will you not cast your lot with me? Give me Gerda and I will protect you from this frozen queen.”

  “Can you do so?” Ravn stares pointedly at Sephia’s hand. He shakes his head. “This is not my fight. I want no more dealings with either one of you.” He motions for the burly man who acted as my guard earlier. “Go—bring the girl from the shed. I’ll release her.” He glances from Sephia to me. “But not into either one of your hands.”

  “What will you do with her?” Sephia straightens and tosses her head. A faint scent of roses wafts through the clearing.

  “Give her a pony and send her on her way.” Ravn smiles as Mirela runs to him from the edge of the clearing. “As my daughter wishes.” He wraps his arms around Mirela, who presses her dark head against his shoulder.

  The enchantress levels her stare on me. “Very well. I will not interfere. But you may wish to detain this one. She wants to harm the girl.”

  “I don’t.” I shake the remnants of icy power from my hands. “I’ll do nothing, if you allow me to leave with the shard.” I meet Sephia’s gaze and hold it. “But if you attempt to take the fragment of the mirror, I promise you”—I clasp my hands about the golden chain—“I’ll track down Gerda and slow her heart as she sleeps. She’ll fall into a state no spring warmth can thaw.”

  Sephia looks down her nose at me. “I’ll protect her.”

  “You forget, Sephia—you can’t travel to my realm. While Gerda must, if she’s to find Kai.” I turn as Sephia’s eyes darken. I stride over to the milling horses and grab Freya’s halter. “If someone will provide my tack, I’ll take my leave.”

  Ravn barks out orders and Freya’s soon saddled and bridled. Swinging up on the mare’s back, I cast a final, icy glare about the clearing. I kick Freya into a trot as a guard leads Gerda, blinking and shaking, from the stone shed. Mirela rushes to her side as Sephia nods at Ravn and stalks out of the clearing.

  “Do not follow me, if you value your life,” I call over my shoulder as I guide Freya into the woods. Gerda’s clear voice is carried on the wind, asking who I am, but I’m too far away to hear if she receives any answer.

  Chapter Sixteen: The Frozen Prince

  BAE’S STANDING IN THE paddock when I ride into the yard outside the stables. His liquid brown eyes follow my every move as I dismount and hand Freya’s reins to a waiting groom, a polar bear whose fur-backed hands tremble slightly. I read pain and confusion in the bear’s black eyes. It’s the expression all our animal servants wear—the look that asks why they’ve been ripped from their natural state and transformed into creatures neither fully human nor truly animal. I turn away.

  “So, you’ve returned, Snow Queen.”

  I turn to face Bae. “I have the final missing shard. The mirror will be completed.”

  “And Voss will have eternal life, and you will have, what?” The reindeer lifts its shaggy head and stares at me.

  “My own immortality, as the Snow Queen.”

  Bae snorts. “Are you certain of this, Thyra Winther? You only have Voss’s word, and what is that worth?”

  I yank off my gloves and stuff them in my pockets. “He wouldn’t lie to me about such a thing.”

  “Truly? You know his other lies. What proof do you have that he will keep any promises?” The reindeer rubs his muzzle against a fencepost, as if scratching an itch.

  “He can’t control that aspect of the enchantment. His own magic constrains him. If I complete the mirror before my eighteenth birthday I’m freed from the curse of the wraiths and will reign as Snow Queen forever.”

  Bae shakes his head, jangling the metal on his halter. The sunlight reflecting off his dark eyes lends them a blue hue. “And that’s what you desire?”

  “It’s better than the alternative.”

  “To remain in some strange, hybrid form forever? I am not so sure, Snow Queen.”

  A series of excited yips makes me turn as Luki races through the kitchen door. The wolf barrels across the yard, his tail waving like a flag. When he reaches me he leaps up and places his paws upon my waist.

  “Come to greet me, have you?” I rub Luki’s shoulders before gently taking hold of his front legs and lowering him to the ground. He leans heavily against me, his amber eyes shining. His tongue slides over his sharp white teeth as he pants with excitement.

  “The wolf has missed you,” observes Bae. “He did not take his daily runs, simply lay at the kitchen door or in the stables, waiting for your return.”

  “Foolish creature.” I pat Luki’s head. “I hope you at least ate something while I was gone.”

  Bae’s eyes glisten. “He did, but the other one did not.”

  “Who, Kai?” Luki bumps his muzzle into my leg. I reach down and scratch behind his twitching ears.

  “Yes, Gerda’s friend. I don’t think he’s ever left the room that holds the mirror, or at least not to eat or rest. I could look up and see his shadow moving behind the windows
at all hours of the day or night.” Bae expels a gusty sigh. “Tell me, in your travels, did you receive any news of the little miss?”

  “You mean Gerda?” I eye the reindeer, attempting to read the thoughts that spark behind his placid visage. “She’s safe, though only through others’ interventions. If she possesses any wisdom she’s on way back home. But I doubt that’s the case. She’s unusually determined for someone so young and inexperienced.”

  “She has a big heart.” Bae drops his head and paws at the frozen ground. “Do not underestimate her, Snow Queen. Her love grants her great power.”

  “Well, love will scarcely keep her warm if she attempts to cross into my lands.” I toss back my heavy hair. “If her heart magically guides her to our realm she’ll surely freeze before reaching this palace.”

  “You do not understand love.” Bae’s gaze fastens on me.

  I swear I read pity in his dark eyes. I spin and stride away from him, Luki at my heels.

  The palace is dark. I can’t call forth illumination in the ice-block walls fast enough to prevent a cluster of wraiths from swarming my path. Luki growls but their desperation drives them forward.

  “You have it,” they whine. “The final piece. Give it to me.”

  I swat at their amorphous limbs. “Back to the shadows, you foolish wretches.” Luki howls as I spit out the words.

  “Soon,” they shriek as they fall back into a darkened corridor.

  This does not touch me ...

  I stride off, wiping my hands on my tunic. Luki follows, still growling softly.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I throw back the doors to the Hall.

  Kai’s bent over the mirror, moving shards around with one hand. He glances up as Luki and I enter the room. “Do you have it?” There’s a rasp in his voice. His thin face is blanched white as fine linen.

  “I do.” I direct Luki to wait at the door while I cross to the table. “You’ve accomplished much in the short time I’ve been gone.” The mirror reflects my pale face. Only one corner of the surface is missing.

  Kai straightens with a grimace. “Has it been only a little time? I’ve lost all sense of day and night.”

  I examine him critically. Dark shadows encircle his reddened eyes and sharp lines bracket his mouth. “Have you slept at all? Or eaten anything?”

  “No. Not since I returned. I was able to place the fragment from the university, but the rest”—he waves his hand toward the box of shards—“elude me.”

  “Well, I do have the final missing piece.” I pull the necklace from the inner pocket of my cloak. As I toss it onto the table Kai’s tired eyes narrow.

  “Grab that bin of tools.” His fingers tremble as he lifts the necklace.

  “I’m not your lackey.” I reach for the golden chain.

  Kai takes two steps back, clutching the necklace to his chest. “I need those tools to extract the shard.”

  “No one’s debating that. I was merely offering to hold the pendant while you collected the tools.” I stare at Kai, evaluating the odd look in his eyes. There’s something empty about his stare. Something that reminds me of the mindless focus of the wraiths.

  “Never mind.” Kai pockets the necklace and scuttles over to the bin holding a selection of tools. He rummages through the box, tossing out several items. They bounce off the stone floor with a clang. One mallet skids toward me, skittering to a stop at the toe of my boot.

  “Careful,” I say, leaning over to pick up the object. A pair of metal pinchers flies over my bent form. It would have hit my head had I remained standing. “No need for such a rush.” I straighten and fix my stare on Kai’s back.

  “So you say.” Kai hurries back to the table, clutching a fistful of tools. He drops them on the table and gently lays the necklace beside them. “But it isn’t your father.”

  “No, only my life.”

  Kai turns his gaze on me. “Thyra,” he says, as if he’s just recognized me. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I frown as his eyes dim again, shadowed like the sun sliding behind clouds.

  “Obtaining the shard, of course.” Kai bends over the pendant, his hands carefully manipulating the delicate tools. After several minutes he lifts the fragment from its golden frame. “Not damaged in the slightest.” He holds the glass to the light.

  “You should take a break.” I move closer to Kai. “I can work on the mirror for a while. Perhaps I may be able to position those shards that have defeated you.”

  Kai lowers his arm, his fingers curling about the jagged glass. “Nothing’s defeating me. I’m the one who’s fit together most of the pieces of your precious looking-glass over these last months, or have you forgotten?” His eyes are flat and reflective as the mirror. “You’d never have gotten anywhere close to completing it without me.”

  I stare at him. His face is all angles—sharp cheekbones and a razor slice of jaw. If his hair was white, he’d resemble a young Mael Voss.

  A trickle of red slides from under his fingers. “Your hand’s bleeding.” My gaze follows the trail of blood as it drips to the floor.

  He lowers his arm and uncurls his fingers. Crimson blossoms in his palm. He plucks the shard from the blood and blindly wipes it on his tunic before depositing it on the table.

  “Here,” I lean closer and press my silk handkerchief into his palm.

  Kai roughly shoves me aside. I hear a deep rumbling and spin about to see Luki crouched low, his belly dragging the ground, his snout thrust out straight before him. His lips are pulled back, displaying the knife-points of his incisors. His ears are pinned flat against his skull as he advances on us. No, not us. On Kai.

  “No, Luki.” I step between the wolf and the boy. “He’s not hurting me. He can’t harm me.” I kneel and put my arms about Luki, burying my fingers in his thick fur. Luki relaxes under my touch, then whimpers and lifts his head. I sit back on my heels, dropping my hands in my lap. “Never attack Kai, you understand?” I stare into the golden eyes of the wolf, who finally blinks and thrusts his muzzle into my hands, licking at my fingers.

  “Perhaps it’s time he lived outside,” says Kai.

  I give Luki’s head a final pat before rising to my feet. “That’s rich, since you’re the one who pushed him on me in the first place.”

  Kai’s huddled over the mirror. My handkerchief’s tied about the hand he’s using to shift fragments about. “He’s almost grown. Time he was returned to the wild or at least left outdoors.” Kai appears oblivious to the blood still trickling onto the mirror.

  I reach over and grab Kai’s wrist. “You’re dripping. I think you’d better go and wash up and wrap a decent bandage about that cut before you’ve anything more to do with this.”

  Kai turns on me, his eyes flashing in his pale face. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get me out of the way so you can finish the mirror and take all its power for yourself.”

  I release his wrist and step back. “Not my intention, as you know. I think you need some sleep, Kai.”

  Our stares lock for a long moment before Kai sighs deeply. “You’re right.” He rubs at his eyes with his uninjured hand. “I can’t think straight anymore. All I see before me are mirror shards and equations.” He slumps against the table. “And I hear those horrible wraiths constantly, like a whistling in my ears.”

  “You need food and sleep. In that order. Go to the kitchens and then to bed. You’re no use to me like this.”

  Kai straightens and steps around me. “I don’t do this for you.”

  “I know. But what benefits me aids you as well. Don’t forget that,” I warn him as he crosses the room.

  “How can I?” he calls back, striding into the hall. “When you won’t let me?”

  I WORK ON THE MIRROR for several hours, finally placing two more pieces. It’s more difficult as we reach the end of the reconstruction, and I mentally acknowledge the validity of Kai’s frustration. As the light wanes I turn to stare out the tall windows. Luki lies curled in the last patch of
sun with his nose touching the tip of his tail. He lifts his head as I stretch and shake the tension from my arms and fingers.

  “I think that’s all for today,” I tell the wolf. “Tomorrow Kai and I can work together. We’re so close ... ” I glance back at the table.

  Luki rises to his feet and pads over to me. I pat him absently as I stare out across the winter landscape. Two eagles spiral one another in the darkening sky. I cross to the windows to follow their soaring flight.

  Something catches my eye on the ground and I glance down into the snow-covered yard. Bae circles the paddock, dashing from corner to corner as if chased by some predator. But that’s impossible—our transformed bears keep any such creatures at bay. There’s something dark pressed against the fence, though. A human form.

  It’s Kai. I watch as he throws out one arm, hurling something into the paddock. I don’t understand the logic of this. It makes no sense, but Kai’s tossing some type of missile at the frightened reindeer.

  “Come, Luki.” I stride out of the Great Hall and swiftly make my way down to the kitchens, the wolf trotting at my heels. The doors to the yard are standing open, allowing snow to drift across the kitchen floor. Luki leaps in front of me and leads the way outside.

  “What are you doing?” I shout as I approach the paddock.

  Kai’s entered the enclosure and stands at the reindeer’s head, gripping its halter with both hands. The bandage that wraps his injured hand matches the whites of Bae’s rolling eyes.

  “Trying to get this abomination to give me news of home.” Kai’s voice cuts the cold air like a blade. “I know it can speak, but it tells me nothing.”

  “I thought you were going to bed.” I hold out my palm, forcing Luki to sit as I climb over the fence.

  Kai’s face resembles a relief carved in ice. Only his eyes show any signs of life and they burn coldly, like banked coals. “I did. But then I dreamed—a nightmare about Gerda, lost in a blizzard, frozen like my father, but truly dead. She lay buried in a snow drift, her skin as blue as her eyes. Then I saw my mother and our friends, prostrate with grief as Gerda’s sisters wept and drowned in a lake of their own tears.”