Crown Of Ice

by Vicki L. Weavil

  Kai’s already several steps ahead of me. He reaches the stone wall and drags back the heavy drapes with both hands. Sunlight pours into the chamber, illuminating every corner.

  It’s a large room, but buried by objects. Every inch of space is filled with shelves and counters, which are, in turn, groaning under the weight of ceramic urns, wooden boxes, tin pails, and glass vessels filled with liquids of every hue and viscosity.

  “This isn’t going to be easy.” Kai crosses to the tall wooden table that divides the room. “Forget a needle in a haystack; this is like looking for one snowflake in a blizzard.”

  “Rather my specialty,” I say, joining him at the counter. I lift an odd tangle of roots tied into a bundle. “I think we need to concentrate on papers, or notebooks, that type of thing.”

  Kai’s gaze sweeps the room. “Why don’t I start searching those two walls? You can investigate this table and the third wall. There appears to be nothing of interest on that side.” He points to the window wall.

  “Very well, but remember we’re dealing with a mage of great power. Be careful what you touch.”

  Kai nods, his expression suddenly solemn. “He may have laid traps?”

  “Possibly. More likely just remnants of his magic.” I stare at the table, scanning the clutter for any evidence of paper. I spy a notebook and grab it, knocking over a small, brightly enameled box. The box clatters to the floor, spilling its contents—a large, yellowed, tooth.

  Kai looks up from his examination of the north wall. “Careful,” he says, with a swift grin. As he lifts a jug from a shelf the tooth vibrates and skitters across the uneven stone floor.

  “Watch out!” I shout as the tooth bounces off Kai’s heel. He turns in time to see a column of amber smoke rise from the floor. It spins like a dusty whirlwind. Kai falls back against the shelving.

  A form coalesces within the smoke. Something broad, and bulky, and covered in fur. A paw slashes out, claws like curved knives slicing the air. It’s a bear, I realize, yet not a bear. One of Voss’s creations.

  “Kai!” I toss him the metal lid I’ve snatched off a wooden barrel. He grabs the make-shift shield and scrambles to his feet as I clench my fist to form an ice crystal. I toss the icy spear at the bear-thing, piercing its flank. It turns swiftly on its flickering, smoke-wreathed paws. I conjure another crystal to hurl into its massive chest.

  “Behind you!” shouts Kai as he rushes toward the bear’s back, clutching a jagged piece of wood ripped from the shelving. I spin about to see an undulating form rise from the open barrel.

  A great snake lifts its heavy head, its glittering body twisting in the air. It’s clear as mountain water, its scales an overlay of ice crystals. Fangs sharp as stalactites drip from its hissing mouth. I swear and call forth a ball of fire that singes my fingers. I try never to handle real fire, but this is an extremity. As I throw the flaming orb at the snake I hear heavy footfalls behind me.

  Kai leaps between me and the bear, swinging the make-shift spear like a pike. He drives the creature back as I hurl another ball of flame at the snake.

  I barely have time to observe the icy reptile quiver and melt into the barrel before whirling about to discover the bear advancing on Kai, claws slicing at the air.

  “Quick,” I say, “throw me the lid.”

  Kai sweeps up the metal disk and slings it at me. I slam the lid onto the rim of the barrel, keeping my eyes on the bear’s shifting bulk. I draw on my magic until I feel my fingers tingle.

  “Got any ideas?” Kai shouts, still standing his ground with only a slender piece of wood blocking the bear from reaching us.

  I rub my hands together, spinning a long spear of ice out of nothingness. “Duck!” I yell and hurl the spear at the bear’s chest.

  The smoke creature staggers backward.

  “Magic to fight magic,” I tell Kai. “You’ve held him off long enough. Now get behind me.”

  I glimpse reluctance in Kai’s eyes, but his logic overwhelms his pride. He jumps back as I leap forward, a massive ball of fire blooming in my hands. I rush the bear who, not expecting an attack, stumbles and falls to all fours.

  I slam my hands down upon the bear’s massive head, releasing the fiery orb. It pierces the bear’s misty skull and explodes.

  “Now!” I shout to Kai, “Stab it! Pin it to the ground!”

  Kai rushes forward and jams his make-shift weapon into the bear’s back. As the light of my fire illuminates the bear’s head from the inside out, its body shreds, fur and bone dissolving into mist. Swallowed in the evaporating cloud, Kai releases the wooden pike. It totters and clatters to the flagstones as the creature dissolves in a final swirl of smoke.

  We clutch hands and stumble backward, collapsing against the edge of the tall worktable, both breathing heavily.

  “Well,” says Kai, wiping his damp forehead with the back of his free hand, “I see what you mean about the magic part. Perhaps we’d better not touch anything unless it resembles a book.”

  I release my grip on his fingers. “Even that might not be safe.” I glance at the notebook I’d grabbed earlier. It lay on the edge of the table, innocently still. “But I suppose we must take our chances.”

  “I told you we should’ve kept Luki with us.” Kai brushes off his dusty breeches. He glances at me. “Your powers come in handy in a crisis, I must confess, Snow Queen.”

  “As does your quick thinking.” I catch his brief smile before he turns back to study the wall of shelving.

  I flip open the notebook, readying myself to draw upon my magic for defense, but the pages lie flat, covered with nothing but figures. Voss must have tried calculating the reconstruction of the mirror, long ago. The ink on the pages has faded to a pale violet, and the paper is brittle, crumbling at my touch. I toss aside the notebook, and resume my examination of the objects piled upon the table.

  After a time I exhaust my study of the table and stride to the third wall of shelving. Kai hasn’t spoken since the incident with Voss’s magical creatures. I glance at him, observing his methodical search of the other walls. He’s careful to open nothing that can’t possibly contain papers or a book.

  I rummage through several piles of fabric, obviously remnants of ancient, elegant, clothing. There are velvets and satins and silks, each garment bearing traces of exquisite needlework, the ragged collars and cuffs embroidered with silver and gold. On a tattered bodice, a single pearl still dangles from one loose thread. I lift a soft scrap to my cheek. It feels like the brush of a rose petal against my skin, evoking a recollection of flowers, and warmth, and grass beneath my feet. I toss the fabric to the floor and continue my search.

  Kai whistles loudly. He’s holding up a book, its pages bound between covers of finely worked metal. I cross the room in several long strides and rip the book from Kai’s hands. It’s a thick volume, the rippled edges of its pages tipped in gold. I rub my hand over the filigree surface of its binding, realizing that the powdery black finish is tarnish on silver. Golden straps and hasps lock the book shut.

  “This looks promising.” Kai wipes his grimy hands on his tunic.

  “Yes, but opening it could prove dangerous.” I meet Kai’s implacable stare. “Remember what happened earlier.”

  “Carry it over to the windows. Let’s put some distance between the book and the rest of Voss’s enchantments.” Kai crosses swiftly to the far wall, motioning for me to follow.

  Laying the book on the window ledge I stare at it for some time, my palm pressed against its cold metal cover. “I don’t sense any magic,” I say at last.

  “So we open it.” Kai fingers the clasps. “I don’t suppose we’ve a key.”

  “We need no key.” I slide my fingers beneath the locks and rub the smooth gold between forefinger and thumb until the clasps spring open. “Simple magic,” I say, meeting Kai’s approving gaze.

  I flip back the cover, revealing creamy pages illustrated with brilliant designs; interlocking s
quares and circles, linked by a delicate embroidery of curling spirals. Within each shape are finely drawn scenes of strange figures and impossible animals.

  Kai whistles again. “It’s stunning. It’s like mathematics brought to life. Such precision.” He touches one of the drawings with the tip of his finger. “Who could create such a thing?”

  “I don’t know, but I doubt it was Voss. His powers are strong, but far cruder than this.” I carefully turn the pages, marveling at each new design. “It’s letters, Kai. Illustrated words.”

  “So it is.” Kai moves to stand behind me. I can feel his breath upon my cheek as he leans over my shoulder to study the book. “Unfortunately, lovely as it is, we won’t find Voss’s notes in this book.”

  I continue to turn pages. The vibrant designs leap out at me, reminding me that there’s more color to the world than the somber hues of winter. As I press back the center page a scrap of paper slides out and sails toward the floor.

  Kai grabs it before it hits the ground. He unfolds the page and holds it to the light.

  “What is it?” I snap shut the book and place it on the window ledge.

  “Notes.” Kai looks over at me, his dark eyes brighter than I’ve seen them in some time. “Take a look.” He hands me the limp piece of paper.

  I scan the page, deciphering the scrawled handwriting. “It’s Voss’s hand. I’ve seen it before.” I continue reading. “He mentions a shard … Yes!”

  I don’t realize I’ve yelled until Kai grips my forearm. “The missing fragments?”

  “I believe so. He writes that they’re in a cave, somewhere in the mountains that ring our lands. Of course—there must have been so many pieces when the mirror shattered, Voss may have missed a few.”

  Kai releases my arm and leans back against the stone windowsill. “This means something?”

  “If Voss found the mirror in a cave, that’s the first place he’d suspect if a few shards were missing when he carried the rest to the palace.

  “It was broken when he found it?” Kai shoots a sharp glance my way.

  “I suppose. He won’t tell me anything more.” I wave the paper in Kai’s face. “There’s a description of the cave, and the surrounding landscape. We should be able to find it easily.”

  Kai raises his eyebrows. “After decades?”

  “Little changes in these lands.” I fold the paper and tuck it inside the bodice of my simple woolen gown. “We should leave. I’d rather not take any more chances, not with what we unleashed earlier.”

  “Well, cast that magic that lights up your hands, then,” says Kai, “while I pull these drapes. I suppose we should leave things as we found them, as much as possible.”

  “Yes.” I glance about. “I don’t think we disturbed too much.”

  “Voss might be lacking one enchanted bear, but perhaps he won’t notice that for some time.”

  “And this.” I grab the illuminated book and clutch it to my breast. “I’m keeping this.”

  “That, Voss might miss,” observes Kai, as he takes hold of one end of the tapestry drapes.

  I call forth a globe of light in one hand and grip the book in the other. “Let him. He owes me.”

  Kai drags the drapes across the windows, plunging the room into darkness. I hold my conjured light before me and guide us to the door. As we step over the threshold, the door slams shut behind us.

  “So—we travel tomorrow?” Kai walks forward to greet Luki, who’s bounding down the hall. The wolf leaps up, his snow-caked paws leaving damp imprints on Kai’s tan breeches. Kai gently eases the animal to the ground, giving him a few gentle pats.

  “Perhaps,” I say, as Luki presses up against me.

  Kai frowns. “We need those fragments.”

  “I can’t decide that now. I’m waiting for a message.” It’s time to reassert my authority. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

  Kai looks me up and down. “Very well, my queen.” He imbues the last word with almost as much irony as Voss. “I’ll await your command.” He turns on his heel and stalks away.

  It doesn’t matter. Whatever he thinks of me, Kai Thorsen won’t abandon our work on the mirror. My lie ensures his dedication. So let him think himself as clever as me. I know the truth.

  “Come, Luki.” I watch Kai disappear down the corridor that leads to his rooms. “We must see what news Bae has brought us.”

  ***

  I make my way to the stables, Luki at my heels. The scent of steaming animal hide assaults my nostrils. It seems that Bae has returned from his mission. Early this morning I sent the reindeer to the village to discover how people are dealing with Kai’s disappearance.

  Two horses are tied to the hitching rings. One of the mutated bears rubs down their heaving flanks. So—Voss has returned to the palace.

  “Snow Queen.” Bae dips his head as I reach his stall. Another transformed bear scuttles off at my approach, clutching a curry comb and brush in his peculiar, hand-like paws.

  “You’ve news for me?” I glance into Bae’s trough, ensuring that the bear has provided grain as well as hay and water.

  “Yes.” Bae focuses his melancholy gaze on me. “Sad news, as I am sure you expected. Many in the village fear that Master Kai has done himself an injury.”

  “They suspect he’s killed himself?” I shake my head. “They must not know Kai well.”

  “Others”—the reindeer noses at the hay and carefully extracts a mouthful—“think Kai has moved to the city, gone to sea, trekked off to another country, or some such thing.” Bae chews on the hay for a minute before speaking again. “Miss Gerda has disappeared as well. Left a note though, she did. Said she was off to look for Kai. Will not return until she finds him.”

  I lean over the trough to grab Bae by the bridle. “What do you mean? Gerda’s searching for Kai?”

  “As I said, Snow Queen, the little miss has taken to the road to look for her friend. Poor soul.” Bae swings his head from side to side until I’m forced to release my grip.

  I swallow a string of swear words as Bae calmly munches his hay.

  Gerda, the shadow. Gerda, always intervening, always in my way. My logical mind tells me that this simple country girl can’t possibly find Kai before the mirror is complete. My fearful heart isn’t convinced. Too much is at stake to take any chances.

  “When did she leave?” I ask Bae. “When did Gerda depart the village?”

  “Why, just yesterday, I believe.” The reindeer sniffs at the trough and delicately mouths a bit of grain.

  I breathe deeply. This does not touch me, I tell myself. I can’t be defeated by an ordinary girl. Let these fears fade. Let it go.

  Leaving the stables, I resolve to travel tomorrow, but not to the cave. That must wait. First I’ll toss some stones in Gerda’s path. I’ve an idea of how to slow her down, if I can convince Voss to grant me one favor.

  He must do it. Whatever it takes, I’ll force his hand. He owes me, more than he can ever repay.

  FIRST THAW

  In the morning I track Voss to the Great Hall. He’s lost in contemplation of the mirror, but glances up as I enter.

  “You have made great progress, my queen.” Voss taps the glass with his boney forefinger.

  “No thanks to you.” I pull my ivory wool cloak tight about my shoulders. “You forgot to mention that three pieces are missing.”

  Voss’s thin lips twist into a semblance of a smile. “So that’s why my chambers were disturbed? Yes, I suspected that you and your human friend had been in my rooms. I have, it seems, lost one smoke bear.”

  “Kai isn’t my friend.” I stride to the table to stand face-to-face with the mage. “Merely a tool. And a useful one, you must admit.”

  “If he’s aided you with your latest efforts in reassembling the mirror, indeed he is.” Voss looks me up and down. “You want something of me, Thyra Winther?”

  “I do. I desire magic that will disguise my appearance so
that I can pass unnoticed among mortals. And I wish for the freedom”—I lift my chin and stare into Voss’s icy eyes—“to travel to warmer realms.”

  “For what purpose?” The wizard’s gaze pierces me. It’s as if he’s looking through a pane of glass.

  “To find the shards whose existence has sadly slipped your mind, Master Voss.”

  He does not blink. “That is not all, I think.”

  “No.” I take a deep breath. “There’s a young girl searching for Kai. She must not find him.”

  Voss turns and glides to the tall windows, his crimson robes rippling across the floor. “You place me in a dilemma, my queen. Your request is reasonable, if you are to complete the mirror, which I dearly desire. But I fear”—he glances over his shoulder—“that granting you additional powers may not be in my best interest.”

  “You fear me, Master?” I fight the elation that threatens to rim my words. “Surely not. You know my destiny’s tied to yours. And we’re both linked to the mirror. I’ve no intention of failing you. Such an action will only condemn me to becoming a wraith. And trust me—I’ve no wish to join that pack of mindless, mewling spirits.”

  “Yes, that would be a pity.” As Voss turns his robes flicker like flames in the sunlight. “Very well, step forward. I will grant what you ask.”

  I cross to him with measured steps, steeling myself against what’s to come. I know that he must lay hands on me to give me what I desire, but I dread his touch. I recall far too well the pain—like hot coals pressed against my flesh. But I must do whatever is necessary to thwart Gerda and keep Kai focused on the mirror.

  When I reach Voss he flexes his fingers before reaching out to grip my shoulders. I stand still, pressing my toes into the soles of my boots. Voss’s fingers thrust daggers of fire through my body. I grit my teeth and clench my hands into fists. I won’t move, or even wobble. I won’t allow him that satisfaction.