Crimson Snow

by D A Rice

  Eason could feel the blisters already forming on his hands, and the wound he’d reopened this morning was still sore. Every now and again, he would have to shake off the pain. Brie would come over, checking to make sure the bandage was secure and not bled through. She’d set up her mirror on a stool nearby, propping him up so he could see. He could hear Will laughing behind him even now. What Eason lacked in finesse, Will made up for with one-liners. He’d been compared to a monkey, a dancing giraffe, and a wild boar in the last fifteen minutes alone. “One more time, Eason,” Brie said as she stepped into a side stance in front of him, sword at the ready, and attempted to hide a smile twitching her lips. “Block me.” Will snorted from behind but Eason ignored him.

  His grip tightened on his sword as he brought it up before him. He nodded at her and she struck, coming in from the side in a quick, practiced motion. Eason yelped and blocked, moving to come in for a parry. She sidestepped him, twirling out of his reach and he stumbled forward, his arms flinging out as he caught his balance. “Ah, the chicken dance, one of my favorites from this morning,” Will’s wry voice echoed around them.

  Brie smirked, her lips twitching again as she held in her chuckle. “Well done, Eason. Better than before, anyway.”

  Eason shook his head, crouching down on the balls of his feet, his sword planted in the sand before him. “I may never get the hang of this in time,” he said, glancing up at her. “You’ve been doing this your whole life.”

  Brie knelt before him, her own sword laying across her knees. “Yes. I have. It will take practice, and likely time we do not have. But I will teach you what I can before we have to fight, regardless. Better for you to know something than nothing at all.” She stood, glancing towards the wall and the door Fallon was likely still behind. “Besides, it is good for you to have an outlet. You shouldn’t keep everything inside. The more time you have to think, Eason, the easier it will be for Snow. I can see this now.”

  Eason brought his hand up to his chest self-consciously. His eyes closed as he remembered what had happened this morning and yesterday. He nodded his assent, “I’m with you there.”

  Brie’s hand alighted on his shoulder, “I have been thinking, actually. I think you should train with my mother as well.”

  Eason’s head came up. “What?”

  Brie smiled. “She is the greatest sorceress Enchantra has ever known. If anyone can teach you how to repel Snow from your mind--” She tapped the side of his head gently, “--make your mind stronger, it would be her.” He accepted her proffered hand, letting her pull him up. She gripped his hand tighter, changing the position in which she held it. She pulled him in close, a position she had used with each of her warriors after a spar. “I will fight for you, Eason, as long as you are fighting for yourself,” she promised.

  Eason smiled, his own grip tightening as their forearms met between them, “with you at my six, who could lose?”

  She blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Will laughed behind them, “another reference she doesn’t understand, perhaps?”

  Eason grinned, “sorry. Yes, Will, it’s a reference to a clock, something that tells time in my world. The 6 is at the back, or bottom of the clock.”

  “Ah! I see. Yes, Eason, I have your back,” she shook her head as she stepped away from him, amusement in her eyes. “Even if you are a very odd boy indeed.”

  ~

  Later that evening, after training with Eason on sword techniques all day, Brie stood in front of her mother in the queen’s rooms. Grimhilde sat at her vanity, caressing her cheek in the mirror with a delicate stroke before she shook her head with a defeated sigh. Brie watched the queen tilt her head and lean back to address her daughter.

  “I will not last through this fight, Brielle.”

  Brie tensed. “You are strong, Mother.”

  “Yes, there is no doubt about that,” the queen said with a soft smirk, her gaze finding her daughter’s. “But am I strong enough?”

  Brie’s eyes narrowed. “You always have been; you will be still.”

  The queen shifted in her seat, changing the subject. “This boy, Eason. You like him, do you not?”

  “On the matter of the strong; I think he should be counted among them. He has fought Snow in his mind, when others have failed. We still exist, even now, because he hasn’t caved in to her. But she grows stronger, Mother. I am not sure how much longer he can hold out on his own.”

  “You wish for me to help him,” the queen said, turning from her black vanity. It was ornately carved and sat atop a glossy ebony table.

  Her rooms held more than enough space, but her personal bedroom was by far her favorite, for it included a walk-out balcony showcasing the vast stars in the sky. One could almost see across the ocean from where the queen sat now. It was the best vantage point in the kingdom. The chair her mother sat on was also black and ornately carved to match the vanity across from her.

  Brie gazed at it lovingly before meeting her mother’s eyes in determination. The Huntsman made these furnishings for my mother; I will not let his sacrifice be in vain. She would save Eason, or she would kill him, but she would not let her kingdom fall for all that Snow had done.

  “Yes, Mother, I do.”

  The queen watched her daughter closely. “What do you suggest I do?”

  ~

  Every sore muscle in his body protested as Eason sat with his back against stone, the book on Cylentra’s history open in his lap. He‘d taken one of many glass balls with magical light that seemed to illuminate the whole castle, and placed it on the nightstand beside him. The light was neither hot nor cold, but seemed to cast an entire room, or hallway, in a bright luminescence. His eyes grew heavy with the need to sleep, but it was sleep that he was terrified to indulge in. Even now he could feel the numbness that meant that Snow was near.

  She always seemed to be with him these days. He could constantly feel her darkness, her singing, her longing for him. Working with Brie had kept his mind busy enough that he’d almost forgotten, but now Snow was back in his head, and he hated everything about it. Eason rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms for a long moment as he contemplated whether coffee existed here. He lowered his hands as his eyes adjusted to the light, his vision swimming as it once again became clear.

  Eason jolted, his hands clenching the blanket beneath him as he all but gawked at the figure before him, appearing like a ghost come to haunt even his waking hours. He quickly grabbed his injured hand and pressed his thumb hard against the wound still wrapped in the bandage. Eason hissed in pain as the sting he felt made it apparent he was not sleeping. His mouth dropped open as he stared wide-eyed at the figure. He grabbed the book that was still in his lap and, without another thought, threw it at the figure’s head. It was the only weapon he had at hand.

  Snow watched him in an eerie way, the book sailing through her as she held his gaze in amusement. My love…. came a soft whisper across his mind. Eason shivered involuntarily, her voice cascading through him. He could feel himself shift to her wants, her desires, and then shift back to himself in a wave. He shot up from the bed he sat in, backing into the wall he’d leaned against moments before.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice soft with horror. He couldn’t believe he was seeing her outside of his dreams. This was nothing like before, when he could simply wake up to escape her. His gaze darted around the room for a different weapon than the book he had thrown, his fight or flight response kicking into overdrive.

  Snow’s eyes gleamed with a hint of malice, yet her smile was sweet. Her pale skin was far lighter than he remembered, more ghost-like in appearance, transparent. Her hair was chin-length with that red silk ribbon tied into it, her eyes black as coal. You have my heart. I want it back.

  “What do you mean I have your heart?” Eason demanded as his voice betrayed his fear. She took a gliding step towards him, and he found himself pressing farther back into the wall as she did.

  Her hand reac
hed out to touch his chest lightly. You hold my heart.

  “Are you saying my heart is yours?” He jerked to the side and hurried to the center of the room, avoiding her touch as he tried to keep her talking. He eyed the distance to the door, then to the window, his previous conversation with Fallon coming back to him. “Because I beg to differ…”

  Snow turned around to face him again, her eyes narrowing slightly. You offered it to me when you kissed me. Do you not want me to live, my love? My breath is your breath. She was moving again, her face turning hurt. Do you not love me? Why else would you give me life?

  Eason shook his head, fighting the haze her presence threw over him. She was in his head as much as she was in his room and he couldn’t seem to shake her. He glanced towards the door again, never completely taking his eyes off of the ghostly girl in front of him. “To be fair,” he started, taking a step in the direction of the door, “I didn’t mean to.” Then he was running.

  He made it nearly a foot before Snow appeared out of nowhere directly in front of him. Her face was a beautiful mask of false innocence, her eyes wide as she lifted a hand. Eason halted with a jerk to stop himself from colliding with her. Her mouth spread in a wide, deranged smile, her madness coming to the surface.

  Fear not, my love. Soon, we shall be together again. Her hand reached out to touch him, then Eason felt cool fingertips gently graze his temple.

  Darkness consumed him in a paralyzing wave.

  Chapter 9

  Eason woke with a start at the jiggling of a door handle behind him and a voice on the other side that called his name. “Eason! Eason are you ok? I can’t get the door open. Something must be blocking it!” He could hear the worry in her voice as he sat up, head groggy, and realized that something was blocking the door. It was him, as well as the book shelf that tilted over, dumping a good number of books onto the floor around him. He shook his head, trying to regain his wits, a hand coming up to his temple as the door jiggled again.

  “I’m fine,” he called out, voice hoarse. “It’s me and the bookshelf. Give me a minute so I can clear the way.” How did I get down here? he wondered. Have I been sleepwalking again? He shook his head, then jerked back as his gaze made contact with something on the floor, hidden beneath the books. He pulled it out gently. Oh no, was his next thought as he yanked the long, silky, red ribbon the rest of the way, holding it before him in horror. Oh no, no, no…

  The door jiggling behind him again brought him back to himself with a start and he jerked up. “Right, right, I’m up.” Bunching the ribbon in his hand, he righted the bookshelf and threw the ribbon to the back of it, scurrying to pick up books and shelve them, hiding it. He was still there when Brie finally got the door open, peeking her head inside at him.

  “Are you ok?” He could hear the relief in her voice when she saw him. Guilt triggered in his chest as he turned to face her, schooling his face into a light smile. He couldn’t tell her Snow had physically been in his room, that he had proof of it. If he did, they might lock him up for good, or kill him to keep her from gaining more power. He shuddered, walking across the room and picking up the book he’d thrown in the corner along the way.

  Brie watched him, crossing her arms.

  “I’m fine, I just…” He straightened, taking a deep breath, “I had another nightmare.”

  “Sleepwalking again?” Brie nodded towards the door and Eason nodded, cringing. It was true enough. He walked back to her, placing the book on the shelf with the others. Her hand found his arm. “Then, it is fortuitous that my mother has agreed to teach you. You start now.”

  Eason met her gaze, his eyes softening at the concern in hers. It wasn’t a concern just for her kingdom, but for him as a person as well. He nodded and she acknowledged him with a nod of her own. “We must go to the crypt. She will meet us there.”

  “The crypt?” Eason asked with amusement as she tugged on his arm, her hand finding his own.

  She laughed. “Indeed. My mother has a rather morbid sense of humor. The crypt is the word she uses for her workshop and apothecary. It is located within the bowels of this castle, in the deepest dungeons. It’s hard to get to, even harder to steal from, as was its design.” She glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised. “You will be at home there, I think, Eason Grey. It will be the safest, and most guarded place against the evil attempting to corrupt your mind. The perfect place to train against it.”

  “You know, you can just call me Eason,” he said with a lifted brow. “I think we have more than enough reason to call each other by just our first names, right?”

  There was a long pause as she thought this over. “As you wish, Eason.” She looked back at him with a small smile, which he answered with one of his own. She tugged on his hand again. “First, let us eat.”

  ~

  After a breakfast of boiled eggs, meats Eason couldn’t name, bread and fruit, Eason found himself in the lowest part of the castle. When Brie had said that the crypt was deep underneath it, she’d not been exaggerating. They’d taken so many stairs, twisting and turning in a labyrinth of epic proportions. He could hear water dripping and the eerie quiet of a world suppressed, hidden from everyone else.

  He was glad Brie knew where she was going as she confidently strode before him. He couldn’t imagine coming down here alone. He would get instantly lost. So many tunnels and passageways, closed in by cold, dark mortar, lit only by the occasional sconce. He shivered as it chilled him to the core. This was a world of darkness and magic, he could feel it in his body, latching onto the part of him that’d allowed him to travel between worlds.

  Would the queen know why Snow had chosen him? Why she’d been able to pull him, and no one else, from his world in the first place? Eason couldn’t help but wonder what made him so susceptible to her, and if he could cut it out of himself before she cut out his heart. He shivered as he paused behind Brie. When did my thoughts get so dark? He started and jogged to catch up to the princess again before she lost him as she stopped in front of an old wooden door covered in iron decor. Eason cocked his head in curiosity, his hand coming up to trace the designs there: vines covered in thorns.

  “My mother learned her magic from a great fairy, back when the worlds were more open to travel and the fae came here without prejudice,” Brie told him softly, her eyes watching his hand. “These vines were of her design, as was the dragon you saw on the front doors; a commemoration to her power. They were great friends before the worlds were sealed off from each other.”

  “Why were they sealed?” Eason asked.

  Brie paused before answering. “Some magic should not mingle.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  The room was everything that Eason had pictured, yet he still found himself surprised. The crypt was massive with high ceilings and dark. The walls were lined with books as well as jars filled with things Eason didn’t want to think too much about. There was a big black cauldron in the corner that was suspended in the air on a heavy, black chain attached to the ceiling. Behind it stood a large wooden table that held yet more jars, ranging in size, along with a stack of books. Lining the far wall, different types of herbs and other plants hung on various shelves and hooks. It looked like a cross between a garden and an apothecary, with plants dripping down the walls and over the shelves, some dry, others very much alive.

  Brie walked towards the imposing figure standing in front of the ancient stove as she stirred whatever was in the pot there. “Mother,” she greeted the queen as she stopped near the cauldron, two paces away. Her nose twitched with the aroma filling the room.

  The queen straightened smoothly, a grin on her face as Eason tried not to let the assorted smells make his stomach sick. Maybe eggs hadn’t been such a great idea, he thought wryly. Brie wrinkled her nose as she peered into the brew her mother was mixing. “What is it you are creating today, mother?” she asked with a hint of disgust to her voice.

  The queen simply went back to stirring with a shrug, “lizard’s tail, two
quail eggs, a dash of mint and some fish eyes, which is great for the skin, might I add.” She finished with a smile over her shoulder, a shine to her eye. Eason cringed, his face paling. he was definitely regretting that breakfast now. His hands came up to his mouth as he tried to keep the contents of his stomach down. Brie simply laughed as she took her mother’s words in stride.

  “Stop jesting, Mother! Or you’ll scare poor Eason into never eating again,” the princess teased, glancing back at him. Eason kept his eyes on the pot, even as he felt his shoulders relax. The thought of what could be in there still haunted him, but if Brie could joke about it, he would have to trust her.

  The queen clicked her tongue as she set down the ladle, wiping her hands on a small hand towel before throwing it back by the brewing pot. “Very well. Is it time for him to be trained by my hand already?” she asked Brie as she considered Eason, her look serious and thoughtful.

  Eason felt uneasy as he realized how in over his head he currently was. Not only was Snow reaching out to him on a physical plane, but now he would also have to deal with the queen probing his mind. He could deal with the physical training Brie gave him, but this somehow felt a lot more intimate. He backed up a step as the realization of just what Brie was asking of him settled on his shoulders. He knew it was necessary, but that didn’t stop the fear of what was to come. His eyes met the queen’s knowing gaze. A trapped feeling held him pinned, just as it had every time he’d encountered Snow.

  “Eason? Is something the matter?” Brie asked as she saw the nervous look on his face. She moved toward him but was stopped by the queen’s hand on her shoulder as she passed. She looked at her mother, who had a look of calm understanding on her face. Brie frowned as she let her mother take the lead.