Crown Of Ice

by Vicki L. Weavil

  “Why not repair it himself? Are his powers so lacking?” Anger crackles through my voice.

  Sephia shakes her head. “He cannot reassemble it. The mirror resists him, still wielding its primal magic. So Voss found other hands to piece together his portal to eternity.”

  “Innocent, unsuspecting, girls.”

  “Yes.” Sephia’s gaze softens, the green eyes no longer hard, but velvety as new leaves. “I am sorry to tell you this, Thyra. I thought you already knew the truth, but I see that Mael has deceived you, just as he kept his true counsel from me.”

  “He spoke of you.” I observe a tightening of Sephia’s lips at these words. “He said you’d try to stop me.”

  “Yes, indeed I will.” Sephia moves closer to me. She smells of earth and rain and lilac blossoms. “Do you not wish, Thyra Winther, to break away from Voss? To live in a green and growing world again? To feel, to love?”

  “I know nothing of such things.” I straighten until I can look her in the eyes. “I only understand what’s required for my survival.”

  “Voss cannot be allowed to gain immortality.” Sephia’s eyes flash like lightning. “His evil cannot be given free rein. He will blight the world with cold and frost, if only to kill that which he cannot control.”

  “This means nothing to me.” I call upon the snow that drifts about my heart, the icy stream that flows through my veins. “I only know that I must reassemble the mirror before my eighteenth birthday or suffer a living death. I won’t accept that fate, Sephia, no matter what harm befalls the world.”

  Sephia gazes at me, her bright face dimmed. “I am sorry for your fate, but I cannot permit you to complete the mirror, Snow Queen. It was I who took in Voss as my apprentice, who taught him all I knew. I thought he would be my companion, my helpmate. Together we would ensure the world would always blossom, that the green earth would never be blighted by either mage or human. But Voss was not satisfied with such gentle magic. He desired power and control. Not content with shared power, or even the joys of love, he fled my halls and found the mirror. Ever after he’s sought to twist magic to serve his evil desires. I should have seen the fault in him, but I was dazzled by his youth, his charm. Yes, once he was fair. Bright as a crocus rising from the snow.” Sephia turns her head so that I can no longer watch her eyes. “I foolishly equated beauty and brilliance with goodness. He is my creation, my responsibility. And I will not allow him to live forever, to gather the power such immortality will bestow. I am truly sorry, Thyra Winther, but I must stop you.”

  Sephia steps forward and lays hands on me. Her touch is soft as milkweed down, but as her fingers close about my wrists I know that I can’t break her hold. Not with any strength in my bones. I close my eyes and call upon the power I possess—bringing forth snow and glaze of ice and blast of wind. I direct them not at the enchantress, who’s likely to be immune to such spells, but at her verdant garden. I call down withering cold and a blighting frost. I wish death upon everything green and growing.

  A sweep of freezing wind whips about us. Sephia gasps and releases her hold on me. She spins about, watching as petals curl and drop, as leaves turn brown and crumple to dust. She dashes into the heart of the garden, spreading out her hands as if to gather all the blossoms to her bosom. But they shatter at her touch, frozen under a veil of frost.

  “You!” She turns on me, but her slippered feet slide out from under her on the icy ground. She falls, allowing me time to race back through the cottage and out into the clearing. I run to Freya and leap upon her back as I command Bae to stand between me and the furious enchantress. He lumbers forward, lowering his head until his pronged horns prevent Sephia from moving from the front door of her cottage.

  “This is not over, Snow Queen!” She shouts after me as I turn Freya in a tight circle and spur the horse into a gallop. “I will track you down and wrap you in chains of vines if you ever dare leave your icy fortress again.”

  I flee the clearing, my face pressed against Freya’s neck, Bae following close behind. I do not slow the mare to a trot until we’ve put several miles between us and Sephia’s cottage.

  It seems I have a new obstacle. But this won’t defeat me.

  “Bae,” I say, as I pull Freya up, allowing the mare to stop and rest. “I now return to my realm. The missing pieces of the mirror have yet to be collected. You must track Gerda for me. Clearly she’s not close to finding Kai yet, if she’s set off from this direction, so we may allow her to wander for a while. When you locate her, report back to me.”

  The reindeer gives a gusty snort and shakes his head. “I will do as you ask, Snow Queen, if only to protect the little miss. I fear she may stumble into danger.”

  “She may indeed.” I urge Freya into a walk, moving away from Bae. Gerda wandering alone in a dangerous world suits me well enough. If she meets with a mishap, without my intervention, I’ll consider myself fortunate.

  I must return to the palace and see whether Kai has completed any more of the mirror. Soon we travel to the cave that holds the last three fragments. With those shards in hand I’ll finally be able to sleep again.

  ON THIN ICE

  As I stalk the glittering hall of the palace, a chill settles in my bones. The lack of color, of any scent except the mingled odors of animal hide and fur, makes me hallucinate. I imagine I can actually feel the cold.

  This is nonsense. For a moment I recall the riotous blaze of color that filled Sephia’s garden, the warmth of the sun, and the loamy smell of the earth. Fantasies. Let them go. I throw back the doors and stride into the Great Hall.

  “There you are.” Kai spares a quick glance for me as I approach the table. “Ready to search for those fragments yet?”

  He’s bent over the mirror, his fingers sliding a small glass shard across the empty portion of the backing board. I note his extreme pallor and the lines that bracket his thinned lips.

  “If you’re up for the journey. Have you eaten anything at all while I’ve been gone? Or slept?”

  Kai shrugs and his brown wool tunic slides down, exposing his boney shoulder. “Not important.” He sighs and yanks up the neck of his garment. “I’ve placed two more pieces, but now I’m stuck.”

  “Very clever,” I say, moving to stand beside him. Our combined efforts have allowed us to complete three-quarters of Voss’s enchanted looking glass. Peering into its smooth surface I catch our reflections. We stare back—fey creatures captured in the mirror’s spell. Kai, with his face sculpted into sharp angles and his dark hair grown long and unruly, resembles an ancient faun. I look like what I am—part sharp-featured, gray-eyed girl, part glorious and terrifying queen of snow and ice.

  I lift my head, tearing my gaze from that image. “I must tell you, Kai, that I’ve finally discovered Voss’s purpose for the mirror.” I meet Kai’s questioning gaze. “Apparently, once restored, it can be used to grant him eternal life.”

  “No wonder he’s desperate to have it completed. So he found the pieces somehow, and used his magic to determine its powers?”

  I examine Kai’s face as I tell him the truth. His lips tighten to a straight line as I explain how Voss shattered the mirror through his own pride and recklessness.

  “The bastard,” says Kai. “I’d rather kill him than see him live forever, but I know that wouldn’t help my father, or you.”

  “True. We can’t let our anger control us, not if we wish to achieve our goals. Speaking of goals—we need those missing three pieces to progress any further. Can you ready yourself to travel with me today?”

  “In an hour.” Kai returns the shard to its wooden cradle and turns to face me. “Where’d you go, anyway? I thought you might be tracking the fragments without me, but it seems you had some other mission.”

  “None of your business.” I meet Kai’s intense gaze with an imperious toss of my head. “I’ve responsibilities as Snow Queen. Not everything involves the mirror—or you.”

  Kai studies my face wi
th the expression he wears when calculating a difficult equation. “I’m sure that’s true. Well, if you’ll allow me, my queen”—he executes a slight bow—“I’ll go and prepare for our journey. I should meet you in the stables, I suppose?”

  “Yes. In one hour.” I swiftly cross to the door, then pause, my hand on the latch, and glance back at him. “Don’t forget to wear enough layers, along with gloves and a hat. I can keep you relatively warm within the palace, but outside it’s another matter.”

  “I’ll bundle up. I’ve lived in a similar environment, if you remember.”

  “Yes, but traveling with me …” I recall that Kai was asleep when I brought him to the palace. “It’s different than you might expect.”

  “I try not to have any expectations anymore.” Kai walks toward me. His face, so pale, so haunted, reminds me of the wraiths.

  “A good plan.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Better to stay focused on the task at hand.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour, then.” Kai pushes past me. I feel his fingers brush against my wrist as he shoves the door open.

  I shiver unexpectedly. But that can’t be right—I don’t feel the cold. I thrust my hands deep into the pockets of my gown and hurry to my chambers.

  ***

  Kai’s waiting when I arrive at the stables. Wrapped in his felted wool coat and sporting the new reindeer hide boots that I had a fox servant drag to his rooms, Kai leans against one of the stalls to watch me harness the ponies to the sleigh.

  “So you think you’ve a good idea where we’re going?” he asks, pulling on heavy gloves and a gray wool cap.

  “I’ve a general notion.” I whistle for Luki, who bounds across the paddock and leaps into the back of the sleigh. “You’ve been digging again.” I wipe the snow from his nose. Luki bumps my chin with his snout.

  “Not a pet,” observes Kai, as he hops up and settles onto the bench seat. I cast him a sharp glance as I climb into the sleigh and take up the reins.

  “You’d better prepare yourself, Kai. When I travel, I do so through the sky. It’s one of the gifts that Voss’s given me. You were asleep last time.” I snap the reins and the ponies take off over the hard-packed ground.

  “By your design.” Kai throws a bearskin blanket across our laps.

  “Yes, and I’ll do so again, if necessary.” I pull up the hood of my white fur cloak, shielding my face against the wind and Kai’s eyes.

  I slap the reins against the ponies’ flanks and call out “Starward”—the command that sends them, hooves still moving rhythmically, up into the silver sky. When we reach the lowest wisps of clouds I level out the sleigh, allowing the ponies to gallop effortlessly through the air.

  I glance at Kai. He’s leaning over the side of the sleigh, observing the glittering white ground below us. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s fantastic!” Kai shouts against the wind. His face is alight. He once again resembles the boy I watched calculating mathematical problems in a quiet church.

  “Hang on,” I call out. “Don’t fall over the edge. Even I can’t save you if you tumble from this sleigh.”

  Kai grins broadly. “It’s magnificent!” He throws his hands out, curling his fingers as if to grasp the clouds. “The whole world beneath our feet!”

  I smile in spite of myself. I remember my exhilaration on the day I first took to the air. “You need to spy a cliff face with a formation on the side. Shape of a bird, with wings outstretched, like a great eagle.” I gesture toward a looming range of mountains. “We’ll be approaching before long. Keep a lookout.”

  Kai nods vigorously and fixes his gaze upon the snow-capped ridge.

  As we draw closer I pull up the ponies until they are gliding at a slow trot. I direct them to move parallel to the mountains.

  “There!” Kai leaps to his feet, gesturing toward one rocky cliff. The faint outline of a figure is visible—a giant bird of prey in flight.

  I grab the arm of Kai’s coat and drag him down onto the seat. “You idiot!” I don’t release my hold on his sleeve until he turns to me, his brown eyes smoldering like wood in a bonfire. “You could fall out and where does that leave me?”

  “With yourself,” snaps Kai. “The person you love best.”

  Luki, obviously hearing the anger in our voices, sits up and thrusts his head between us.

  “Keep your eyes on that formation.” I stroke Luki with one hand. The wolf lays his muzzle on Kai’s shoulder and tips his head to stare at me, his eyes rolling until the whites show.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell Luki. “I won’t harm your boy.”

  Kai’s face is as stony as the mountains before us. “No more a boy than you’re just a girl, Snow Queen.” He lifts his left hand to smooth the fur on Luki’s shoulder, then reaches out and encircles my right wrist with his gloved fingers. “You need me, Thyra Winther, don’t forget that.”

  I match his frigid stare. “And you need me, Kai Thorsen. Or don’t you care anymore about your father and his second chance at life?”

  “I care.” Kai releases his grip and looks away, gazing back at the mountains. “Or I wouldn’t travel anywhere with you. I know what you are, lady of cold and darkness.”

  “You know nothing of me.” I toss my head and my hood falls back. My white curls spring away, crackling with static in the cold, dry air.

  “We’re close.” Kai points toward the eagle formation without glancing my way. “I think I see a cave. There, under the bird’s wing. It’s more than a shadow.”

  I ease the ponies into a slow descent. As the deep snow piled at the base of the mountain rises to meet us, I pull the sleigh up, heading for an exposed ledge that lies just beneath the cave.

  “What’s this?” Kai grips the edge of the sleigh with his right hand. “Trying to rattle me?”

  “Attempting to land on a spot a little closer to the cave than the base of the mountain.” I choke up on the reins until the ponies come to a stop, their front hooves balanced on the edge of the ledge. “Of course, if you’d like to climb the entire face, I’ll allow you to slide down and scramble back up.”

  “No thanks.” Kai stands in the sleigh, stretching his arms and legs. “We’ll need all our energy to find the shards, I expect.” He jumps out, landing waist-deep in a snow drift.

  Luki climbs to the front of the sleigh and places his paws on the curved left side. He leans over the edge, stares at Kai, and barks twice.

  “Yes, we’ll pull him out.” I step out of the right side, where only a slight swirl of snow blows over an outcropping of bedrock.

  “You might have warned me,” says Kai.

  “You might have asked.” I ease the ponies back from the ledge and cross in front of them. “Give me your hand.”

  Kai grabs my gloved fingers in a firm grip. I step back, pulling him toward me as he pushes against the heavy drift. A few strides and he tumbles into me, shedding snow like a shaken spruce branch.

  “Careful, we could both fall,” I say with a bob of my head toward the lip of the ledge.

  Kai nods and places his hands about my waist as he walks me slowly backward, away from the edge. He releases me when we reach the center of the ledge. “So what now, Snow Queen?” He vigorously slaps the moisture from his breeches and boots.

  “Now we locate the mirror fragments.” I stroll toward the gaping maw of the cave, Luki at my heels. I hear Kai’s boots behind me, ringing against the rocky surface of the ledge.

  “You’re sure this is the right place?” Kai steps up next to me.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I march toward the entrance.

  Luki runs ahead of us, disappearing into the darkness.

  “Should you let him do that?” Kai matches his stride to mine. “Might be bear or lynx or anything in there.”

  “Luki isn’t stupid. If he encounters something he can’t handle he’ll run.”

  Kai mutters something like “unlike his mistress,” but when I turn t
o glare at him he smiles at me, all guileless innocence.

  “Just follow me.” I conjure a large globe of cold light in my gloved hands.

  As we enter the cave the scent of standing water rises in my nostrils. I hold out the light and spy a dark pool stretching from one side of the cave to the other. Only a narrow ribbon of stone skirts around the pool, which is opaque as ink.

  “Wonder how deep it is?” Kai kneels and peers into the depths of the water. “Can’t see a bottom. Without a light, anyone entering this cave would probably fall right in.”

  “And drown.” I motion for Kai to rise to his feet and follow me around the pool. “I think it’s a trap. We should watch for others.”

  There’s barely room for me to place one foot in front of the other as I inch along, my fur-clad elbow brushing the damp wall of the cave. I glance ahead and catch sight of Luki’s eyes. Illuminated by my globe, they shine like phosphorus in the darkness.

  Luki waits patiently until Kai and I make our way to him. He’s standing before two identical tunnels. Both branch off from the entrance chamber, leading in different directions. I hold up the light and move it back and forth, trying to discern our best option. But there’s no difference between the two corridors, at least visually.

  “Looks as though we must make a choice.” Kai draws closer to my side. “Can your talents tell us which route to take, Thyra?”

  I close my eyes for a moment, attempting to sense the presence of any piece of the mirror. I’ve handled the other fragments so long I believe I can feel the pull of their magic. “This way,” I say at last, striding into the left-hand tunnel.

  To Kai’s credit, he follows without hesitation. Luki pads along before us, occasionally casting a glance over his back as if to urge us forward.

  The tunnel narrows alarmingly the farther we walk into the mountain. Soon both Kai and I must bend our heads to continue down the rippled rock path. I balance the globe of light in one hand and slide my gloved hand along the rough wall, feeling for any crevices that might lead to chambers or passageways.