“She was probably stunned,” Hans said to the men who sat astride their horses, waiting. “But then she would have tried to stand up.” He lay down on the ground, reenacting the scene as he saw it play out in his head. “She would have used these branches for support. They would have been covered in snow and hanging low to the ground, you see. When Anna grabbed on, the snow would have been knocked loose, which is why the tree looks bare now. And then, then what would my Anna have done…?” His voice trailed off as he looked around.
Hans loved that the men were all looking at him, seemingly awed by his impressive tracking skills. The only problem was, he actually wasn’t very good at tracking at all. He had just been following the horse’s path up to this point. The heavy beast had left plenty of clues to follow, but now he would have to follow Anna. And she was far more delicate than the horse.
“Sir!” one of the men called out. “Could she have gone this way?”
Looking over, Hans let out a soft breath. The man was pointing at tracks in the snow. They were barely visible, but they were clearly those of a human. Following them, Hans saw that they led away from the tree and toward a small stream. And in the distance, rising up over a small hill, was smoke.
“Princess Anna must be over there!” Hans shouted, jumping back on his horse. Kicking the horse into a trot, he headed toward the smoke. Behind him, the jingle of bits and stirrups let him know his men were following.
A few minutes later, Hans found himself standing in front of a wood cabin. A small set of stairs led up to a porch and the front door. A sign reading WANDERING OAKEN’S TRADING POST hung down, with a smaller sign attached that read AND SAUNA. Hans smiled. Hopefully Anna is inside. Then we can head back to Arendelle and get out of this wretched snow. And if she’s moved on, well…perhaps someone inside knows where she’s gone.
“Men, you wait here. Keep an eye out while I go in and see if the princess is here,” Hans commanded. Dismounting, Hans tied up his horse and moved toward the stairs. Then, thinking better of it, he paused and turned back. “You two,” he said, pointing at the Duke’s men. “You come with me.” He didn’t want them out of his sight.
Hans walked up the stairs and pushed open the door. “Hello?” he called out.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The sun on the snow had been blinding. In comparison, the interior of the trading post was dark. Slowly, shapes began to emerge. He could make out shelves, dry goods, a door that, due to its steamy nature, had to lead to the sauna, and…a mountain? Hans shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly. When his vision cleared, he realized he wasn’t looking at a real mountain. He was, instead, looking at a mountain of a man.
“Hoo-hoo! Big summer blowout!” the human mountain said. He was standing behind the counter, his fingers drumming on the wood. “Perhaps you would like some sun balm of my own invention?” He held up a brown bottle and smiled hopefully.
Hans smiled back, mimicking the man’s expression. He was hopeful as well. But while this man was eager for a sale, Hans was eager for information. Glancing around the room, Hans quickly tried to get a sense of this huge man. The more I know, he mused, the easier it is to manipulate. He quickly deduced several things. One—the man had terrible taste in sweaters, and two—he clearly fancied himself a businessman. While the first thing was only useful in that Hans now knew what sweater to never wear if you were a seven-foot man who was at least three feet wide, the second item was valuable. Businessmen were driven. They knew the worth of money, and they usually knew a good deal when they saw it. They also, Hans knew from experience, tended to do what was best for their business. And themselves. While that character trait might not always win them friends, in this situation, it was certainly going to help Hans get what he wanted from the man.
“Hello, there,” Hans said, approaching the counter and holding out his hand. “I am Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles. I am looking for someone and hoping you might be able to help me.”
The big man’s smile did not grow bigger or smaller. It stayed exactly the same. He was clearly not impressed with Hans’s title. “I am Oaken,” he said. “Would you like some pants without legs? My own invention! Half price? Maybe some for you two big fellas?” He waved at the Duke’s men, who were standing back, stone-faced.
Hans shook his head. “We’re actually all set for pants,” he said. “We just stopped in because I have reason to believe that my beloved, Princess Anna, may have stopped in here not so long ago.”
“Ah, love,” Oaken said. “That is nice. Maybe you will be wanting some books on love? I have many!”
Hans grimaced. “I am sure your selection is wonderful, but I don’t really need any books. What I do need is my beautiful Princess Anna….” Hans’s voice trailed off as Oaken remained impassive. This was getting him nowhere. “Fine, fine. I would love a book.”
Instantly, Oaken’s blank expression disappeared and was replaced by a huge grin. “Hoo-hoo! That is good! Of which story would you like?”
Hans could feel the Duke’s men watching him, judging his inability to get an answer, and it infuriated him. He didn’t want anyone to see him as ineffectual—especially the Duke’s men, who would be all too happy to report their observations back to the man who’d sent them. But he hadn’t trusted them alone outside. So now he was stuck with them as witnesses to what was turning into a colossal headache. Hans clenched his fists. Businessman, he reminded himself. Oaken is a businessman. So why don’t I do a little business and see where that gets me? Clearly, the big man was obliging when people were buying things. So Hans would just have to buy things—lots of things!
“Oaken, on second thought,” Hans said, mirroring the big man’s grin, “I do think we will take some pants without legs.” Hans scanned the store, looking for more things to purchase. “Oh! And some carrots. The horses would appreciate carrots I’m sure.”
“Hoo!” Oaken cried, pleased with his sudden windfall. He began to bag up the items. As he held up the carrots, he added, “That is true! Horses do enjoy tasty treats. So do reindeers. In fact, I just sold some carrots to a pretty girl with a white streak in her hair a few hours ago….”
“A girl with white in her hair,” Hans repeated. “She was here? Why didn’t you say so in the first place? That is the princess. My princess.”
Oaken shrugged. “Apologies.” Then he held up a bag. “Perhaps you would like a bag, ya?”
Hans sucked in his breath as he tried to remain calm. “I don’t care, I don’t care!” He threw a large pouch of coins on the counter. “Please, just tell me where the girl went.”
Picking up the pouch, Oaken emptied it on the counter and began to count the coins very carefully. “She bought some supplies for that sneaky ice harvester,” he said. “And then they left for the North Mountain.” He finished counting and handed Hans his change. “Have a good day!”
Mumbling a thank-you, Hans turned and headed back outside in a bit of a fog. It didn’t make sense. Anna had left the store with another man. Who was he? Was someone else trying to win Anna’s hand and the throne? Well, that man had no idea what he was up against. Hans hadn’t made it this far to walk away without a fight.
“Sir?”
The sound of one of his men’s voices broke into Hans’s internal monologue. Looking around, he saw that everyone was waiting on his orders.
“I just learned, after a quick and easy interrogation, that Princess Anna has gone to the North Mountain.” He ignored the Duke’s men, who both raised their eyebrows, and instead pointed at a group of the townsfolk who had volunteered. “Let’s split up. You five go west and look for a way to the mountain. The rest of us will go east. With luck, we shall meet atop the North Mountain and rescue Princess Anna.”
Hans held back to make sure that both groups seemed sure of where they were going. When he was certain, Hans kicked his horse forward. Coming up behind the Duke’s men, he was surprised to hear his name. He pulled back on the reins.
“Did you see him trying
to get answers from that big oaf?” the taller one said. “It was pathetic. If the Duke were here he would have had the guy talking in no time.”
The shorter man twirled his long mustache in his fingers and laughed. “He would have had him screaming in no time, you mean!” he said gleefully.
The rest of the men’s words were lost to Hans as the wind picked up and the pair trotted ahead. But he had heard enough. So the Duke would have resorted to violence? How ironic that his men are calling me the idiot, when clearly he doesn’t have the forethought to think about what reacting calmly and rationally can achieve. True, violence could work, but only brutes used violence. Brutes like his brothers, who wouldn’t have known how to talk out a problem if they put all their brains together. Hans couldn’t count the number of times he had tried to find the peaceful way out of a situation only to find himself being pummeled, or stuck in the pigsty, or thrown off a moving cart. And his father had been no better. His “solution” when one of his farmers had a problem he didn’t like had been to burn the man’s barn down. Or take all his livestock. It never failed to surprise Hans that a man who ruled such a vast kingdom could be so stupid. Violence begat violence. It was inevitable. Yet that was all his family knew.
Hans shuddered. No, he had had enough violence to last him a lifetime. He would not sink to his brothers’ level. He would not let himself be like them—not if he could help it. So maybe a well-thought-out plan didn’t yield the swiftest result. It still yielded one eventually. Hans nodded, reassuring himself. Yes. I got what I wanted. I know where Anna is heading, and I know I can get more information from Oaken if I ever need it in the future. The same could not be said if the Duke had “dealt” with it himself.
Looking ahead, Hans watched the two men who had so easily mocked him. So they didn’t respect him. That was fine. It just meant that their guard was down and that they wouldn’t interfere with his plans. But if they did? Well, while he didn’t favor violence, it could certainly have its benefits when used wisely….
WHEN OLAF HAD told them about a “staircase” leading up the mountain, Anna had pictured a steeply sloping path of jagged rocks. So when the little snowman led them to a beautiful, intricate staircase made completely of ice, Anna was at a loss for words. Even more breathtaking was the frozen palace at the top of the steps. Glistening spires reached toward the clear blue sky above them. Each frosty turret had the detailed look of being hand-sculpted. Which, Anna realized, they probably were, in an icy magic kind of way.
“Whoa,” Anna breathed out in awe.
Beside her, she heard Kristoff gasp. When she looked over, he had his hand on his heart. “Now that’s ice,” he said, reverently. “I might cry.”
“Go ahead,” Anna replied. “I won’t judge.” And she was being honest.
Stepping forward, Anna gingerly put one foot on the bottom step of the icy staircase and pushed. Better safe than sorry, she thought, waiting to see if the ice would crack under the pressure. It didn’t, and she began to climb, one hand holding tight to the railing. As she got closer, Anna could make out more details. Elaborate carvings of snowflakes were etched in the sides of the palace, which glowed and shimmered in the light. To the left, she saw a balcony and wondered if her sister was up there somewhere.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Anna paused in front of the palace’s large doors. Like everything else, they were beautiful and intricate, the result of something deep and wonderful inside Elsa. I wish everyone back in Arendelle could see this place, Anna thought. They have only seen the devastation Elsa can cause. But that was because they saw only what Elsa can do if she is lashing out in fear. This place is what comes from letting go and following her heart. This is the Elsa I know will want to make things right in Arendelle.
Hearing heavy breathing beside her, Anna turned and saw that Kristoff and Olaf had followed her.
“Flawless,” Kristoff said, staring at the doors.
Anna nodded in agreement. Her fingers reached out, tracing the delicate etchings carved into the ice. She could see pieces of her sister in every detail. One long line of ice curved around and around itself, reminding Anna of Elsa as a young girl, when she would twirl in circles, laughing as the skirt of her dress billowed out around her. Small carved snowflakes brought back a memory of Elsa sticking out her tongue and giggling. “Look, Anna!” she had cried. “It’s snowflake candy!” Anna had laughed and laughed, sticking out her own tongue. It was a vague memory, but it still filled Anna with warmth—and sadness.
She raised her hand, preparing herself to knock. But she hesitated. How many times had she stood in front of a closed door, hoping Elsa would let her in? And here she was, same situation, very different type of door. The thought of being shut out again was almost unbearable. Then she shook her head. How could she ask the people of Arendelle to give her sister another chance if she couldn’t even do it herself? She had come all this way because she wanted to give Elsa a chance….
“Knock,” she heard Olaf say encouragingly. Her hand came closer. But still, she didn’t touch the door. “Why isn’t she knocking?” Olaf asked Kristoff. “Do you think she knows how to knock?”
This is getting ridiculous, Anna scolded herself. What’s the worst that can happen? She doesn’t answer? It’s not like you don’t know how that feels. So just go ahead and…
KNOCK! KNOCK!
On the other side of the door, Anna could hear the sound echo through the palace. She held her breath, waiting for the usual to happen. But this time, instead of staying shut, the doors to Elsa’s world swung open.
“Ha!” Anna shouted, clapping her hands together happily. “It opened! That’s a first.” As she moved to step inside, Anna’s foot paused on the threshold, and she turned to look at Kristoff. “You should probably wait out here,” she said gently.
“What?” Kristoff asked, confused.
“Last time I introduced her to a guy, she froze everything,” Anna replied.
“But it’s a palace made of ice,” Kristoff said, as though Anna were insane. “Ice is my life!”
Anna felt bad, but she knew she couldn’t risk his life just so he could see what was, in essence, the world’s most elaborate ice sculpture. Besides, this conversation with Elsa was one she needed to have alone.
“You too, Olaf,” she said, stopping the snowman as he began to walk through the door. He looked up at her with big, hopeful snowman eyes. She shook her head. “Just give us a minute.”
A minute is all I’m going to need to find out just how upset Elsa is, Anna added silently. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the grand hallway. It was showtime.
“Elsa? Elsa! It’s me…Anna!”
Inside the palace, Anna’s words bounced off the frozen walls, loud in the otherwise eerie silence. It was as beautiful inside as it was outside, but there was something lonely about it. The doors had opened into a huge entryway with a soaring ceiling. An elaborate ice chandelier hung down and, across the room, a carved staircase led up to another floor. But there were no pictures, no personal touches. It was, for lack of a better word, cold.
Taking one more glance around the room to make sure Elsa wasn’t hiding in the shadows, Anna made her way across the icy floor toward the staircase. The stairs were slick and the railing thin and hard to hold. As she climbed, Anna held her breath, sure that each step she took would have her slipping and sliding back down.
As if on cue, Anna’s foot slipped and she lost her balance. Clutching the railing, she struggled to steady herself. When she was finally sure that the worst was over, she looked up. To her surprise, Elsa stood at the top of the staircase.
“Anna?” Elsa said, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
As for Anna, she definitely couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Elsa, you look different….It’s a good different but…” Her voice trailed off. Her sister wasn’t just different, she was transformed. The woman standing there was the most beautiful person Anna had ever seen. Elsa’s white-blon
d hair was no longer pulled back in a tight bun. Now it hung in a loose braid over her shoulder, the silvery strands catching the light and shimmering as if lit from within. The last time Anna had seen her sister, Elsa had been wearing her coronation dress, with long sleeves and a high neckline. It had been a lovely dress, Anna admitted to herself, staring up at her sister in awe, but now Elsa looked, well, stunning. No, it’s more than the dress and the hair, Anna realized. She looks…free. Anna smiled and took a few steps closer to her sister. “This place is amazing,” she said as she walked.
“Thank you,” Elsa said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “I never knew what I was capable of.”
You and me both, Anna wanted to say. But instead, she apologized. “I’m so sorry about what happened. If I had known—” She reached out her hand hopefully.
Elsa recoiled as though Anna were a viper. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. But you should probably go,” she said, backing away. “Please.”
“But I just got here,” Anna said, climbing another step.
“You belong down in Arendelle,” her sister said, backing up still more. “I belong here. Alone. Where I can be who I am without hurting anybody.”
“Actually, about that,” Anna began, ready to clarify that Elsa probably had hurt somebody already. And I’m not even counting myself and the loneliness I felt from all those years of silence, she thought—but she stopped herself. She wanted her sister to come home, not to scare her so badly that she stayed hidden up here for the rest of her life. She closed her mouth as she tried to figure out the best way to respond to her sister’s stubborn need for isolation. But before she could come up with anything, she was interrupted by the sound of Olaf counting.
A Frozen Heart Page 14
