A Girl Called Owl

by Amy Wilson

  I push my way through dark, thorny vines, the stark silence making my head spin. Alberic follows silently behind me, his hand in mine, and then we’re through, out into the open air of a world all blue and white. Before I have time to look around, my feet give way beneath me and suddenly I’m careering down a snow-covered hill towards a frozen, ice-blue lake. I lose Alberic along the way, tumbling head over heels, eventually landing in a spray of snow on top of the lake. The ice creaks ominously beneath my weight but it doesn’t give. The sky is a pale bruise overhead, glowing yellow over in the west.

  ‘Alberic?’ I sit up. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘H-h-h . . .’

  I frown, standing to look for him, as a mound of snow at the bottom of the hill rears up and explodes, revealing a blue-lipped Alberic.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I demand, making my way over to him, my bare feet firm on the ice. He steps towards me and immediately slips, landing flat on his back with a grunt. I’ve never seen him so clumsy. It must be something in the nature of Jack’s world that works against him even as it stirs in my veins, making me feel stronger than ever.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he says, staring up at me. His features are taut in the winter glow, his eyes dazed as his teeth begin to chatter. We’re both dressed in the light clothes we were wearing in the flat and it’s clearly not going to be enough for him here.

  ‘Get up,’ I say, reaching down and steadying him as he slips on the ice. ‘Take my jumper.’ I pull it over my head and try to give it to him, but he thrusts an arm out and swipes it away.

  ‘No, thank you,’ he mutters, keeping his head down. ‘It won’t fit anyway. I’m fine.’ He pulls away from me and moves forward over the ice, his back hunched, breaths coming quick and hard.

  ‘Are you sure? We shouldn’t have done this, Alberic. We should never have come here! What were you thinking?’

  ‘Couldn’t carry on like you were . . . and we’re here now. We need to find . . .’ He frowns, looking up. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Jack!’ my voice rings out with frustration, which is mostly born out of fear. He’s like a shadow of himself. My heart thuds in my chest as I remember what he said about wraiths. Is this how it happens? Is he losing himself, all because he came here? All because of me? All because I was embracing who I’m supposed to be?

  ‘Jack, Jack, Jack!’ My father’s name rings out all around us and I turn, heart racing, but it’s only an echo of my own voice, a brittle sound that makes snow slide from the hills.

  ‘That’s right.’ Alberic nods, pushing himself forward along the ice. ‘Jack.’

  ‘Alberic.’ I stop him with a hand on his chest. ‘Go home. You don’t need to be here. I’m not even sure why we are here, and your father will be furious.’

  ‘He’s always furious,’ he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He moves my hand away and starts forward again, his movements dogged. ‘Doesn’t mean he’s right. He thought you’d be easier to deal with than Jack. Weaker.’ He looks sidelong at me. ‘He was wrong. People. People are more different than I thought.’ His voice slurs. ‘They’re scornful of humans at court. I thought it would all be jealousy and pride . . . destruction. But at school . . . I see the way you laugh, the way you look after each other. All the other stuff’s there too, but the way you all live, I’ve never known that . . . all that time you spend with each other, fighting, hoping, trying to make something with what little time you have . . .’

  I steady him as he slips again on the ice, and search the horizon for signs of Jack’s house. Something. Anything. But stretching out in every direction is only more ice, and frozen hills to either side, grey mountains rearing up behind them. Didn’t Mum speak of goats and eagles? There are no signs of life here at all, and I have no way of knowing if we’re heading in the right direction.

  This is Jack’s world. He must know, somehow, that we’re here. Why doesn’t he come?

  ‘JACK!’ I shout at the top of my voice. Alberic startles beside me, jolted from his dreamlike state as the call brings snow tumbling down on to the ice. There’s no way Jack can’t have heard it but there’s no response as the echoes subside. Only more silence.

  And then a sound that hurts my ears and makes my heart stutter.

  A desperate, keening howl that echoes endlessly and makes yet more snow crash from the hills around us, cascading down and spilling over the ice in a great white tide.

  The wolves of winter.

  Running over ice, Alberic beside me, slipping and sliding. I can feel the presence of the wolves through the prickle in my neck, the shudder that rings out as more snow falls on to the frozen lake. They’re stalking us from the hills above, their every move triggering yet more avalanches. If they overtake us we’ll be buried in snow.

  There’s another sorrowful howl, closer this time. I risk a look back as Alberic collides with me, his feet flying from under him. Five narrow grey shapes are darting down the hillside, bounding on to the ice, their claws scrabbling for purchase. Even at a distance I can see they’re far bigger than I’d ever imagined. They must be at least as tall as me at the shoulder.

  I grab at Alberic, pulling him up, cursing and pushing him towards the edge of the ice where there’s a thin lip of snow. ‘We need to keep running!’

  ‘I c-can’t . . .’ He shivers, his lips blue. ‘G-going to slow you down.’ He gives me a shove. ‘Go on without me . . .’

  ‘I’m not leaving you here!’

  ‘You h-have to.’

  His face is startlingly pale. He seems to run out of breath even as he tries to speak. I pull at him but I’m not sure he could move if he wanted to.

  ‘Alberic! Come on!’

  The wolves are hurtling towards us, their muscles bunching effortlessly as they run. A low growl seems to ricochet off the snow itself.

  ‘Snap out of it!’ I hiss desperately, my mind racing. ‘Please, Alberic – mind over matter, tell yourself it’s warm, or you’re wearing an invisible coat or something . . .’

  ‘An-n-n-vis’ble coat?’

  ‘Yes! Something – anything!’ I pull at him again as I say it, picking up my pace and hoping for some miracle. A hidden track, a cave, anything but this open expanse of winter that seems out to kill us one way or the other. Alberic frowns, breaking into a lurching run at my side but it’s no good, there’s nowhere to run or hide.

  In desperation I shout out, my voice rising above the growls of the wolves, as if I can push them back with my fear alone. At my cry, great channels of snow begin to pour from the mountains on to the ice, engulfing us all in a winter storm. I can’t breathe, can’t see; ice fills my mouth and nose, plasters my hair back from my skull. It’s like being in a roaring white room, booming and shuddering, everything else completely obliterated. I push back against it, raising my hands and trying to keep us from being buried alive, creating a kind of bubble. Snow shoots off around us in all directions but inside the bubble it is still, and silent. I’m shaking with relief as Alberic looks up, amazed, at the invisible shield.

  Then a heavy weight lands on my right shoulder, claws digging in, warmth brushing up against my ear. I bite back a shriek, imagining it’s one of the wolves, about to go for the kill, and stagger away, my breath like fire in my lungs.

  ‘So,’ says the great white owl when I turn my head, her golden eyes glowing. ‘You are come into your heritage at last.’

  The wolves shake themselves vigorously as the avalanche settles around them, their fur standing in spikes coated with ice, their eyes still fixed on me. My whole body is reverberating with the shock of it all but I stand straight, the owl still on my shoulder, as Alberic struggles to his feet beside me.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I whisper.

  ‘H-hmm.’ He nods through chattering teeth.

  ‘I didn’t mean to do that . . .’

  ‘You did this?’

  ‘She is Jack’s daughter,’ says the owl. ‘She has power here; power enough to bring winter down upon you all.’ She glares at the wol
ves, who have gathered closer together. ‘Do you think you can stand against her?’

  ‘She is not of this world,’ one of the wolves says, stepping forward. He’s bigger than the others, his muzzle grizzled white. ‘How are we to tolerate her?’

  ‘Tolerate her? If Jack is your master then this is your mistress . . .’

  ‘She is a false mistress – even he does not accept her.’

  ‘She’s his daughter, all the same,’ says Alberic in a low voice.

  ‘And who are you, to be here? To speak thus?’

  Two of the wolves begin to creep along, their backs low, teeth bared.

  ‘He’s here with me,’ I say, stepping forward until I’m nose to nose with the alpha wolf, standing firm despite the shivers running up my spine. The owl ruffles her wings, beating into my hair, making me start.

  ‘We do not recognize your right to be here,’ growls the wolf. ‘And he is not a creature of winter at all, it is forbidden.’

  One of the wolves takes a flying leap at Alberic. I shout out, and the owl thrusts herself up into the sky with a shriek, powerful white wings sweeping through the bitter cold. I rush to the wolf, grabbing at its dense warm fur, trying to turn it from its course. I’m too late to stop the hit; huge paws strike Alberic’s chest and throw him back on to the ice. In desperation I grab at his shoulder, pulling him towards me as ice builds in my veins, staring at the wolves and daring them, just daring them to get closer, to fight me here where my power is at its greatest.

  I can feel it now: the connection between myself and this place, this land that my father built for himself.

  Strands of bright, ice-cold magic stretch like a web around me, power ready to be taken. I brace myself and expand my chest, letting it fill me. It gathers on my skin, through my hair, thicker and sharper than ever. Alberic stirs and I draw him closer to me with one hand, while the other builds storm clouds in the sky. Suddenly there it is, a hard blizzard of ice and hail, striking out around us, making the wolves step back. I draw further away from them and the ice quakes beneath my feet, rising up; a great sweep of blue-white that carries us, further and faster away. Away from their shock and fear, away from their mournful, accusing eyes. The tide rips through the lake as it goes and the grey-white world where my father hides is full of the sound of ice forming and crashing, forming and crashing, over and over again. I ride the wave as if it’s the only thing that matters, as if I could keep going forever, my blood surging in my veins, Alberic beside me, snow falling all around, the wolves now just little dark shapes behind.

  ‘OWL!’

  I lurch as that inhuman voice breaks the air around us. Suddenly Jack is there, riding on my wave, the owl wheeling past high overhead. He doesn’t look so tall now. He doesn’t look so inhuman. The look on his face, of shock and almost fear, is a look I’ve seen before on other faces.

  ‘Stop this.’ He holds out a hand to me. His hair is blown back by the speed of our progress and I grin at him as I urge it onward, onward. ‘Little Owl, what are you doing? Stop!’ He looks down, alarmed, as the lake is eaten up by my splintered, jagged wave of ice. He makes a sweeping gesture with one hand and the snow instantly stops, clouds unfurling to reveal a pale, cold sky. I frown, and raise my hand.

  ‘NO!’ he howls, making the air shudder. ‘Look! Look at what you’re doing. You’ll destroy yourself. You’ll destroy everything!’

  ‘What do you care?’ I demand. ‘You can build it all up again, can’t you? You can fix it! Surely I’m no match for Jack Frost?’

  ‘I can’t fix you!’ he snarls. ‘I can’t bring your boy back to life if you’ve killed him!’

  What?

  I look down at Alberic, who is kneeling, his head pressed against my legs. Perhaps he was trying to shelter from the snow. Perhaps he was trying to get warmth from my body.

  But my body isn’t warm. It’s ice, through and through.

  ‘Alberic?’

  He doesn’t stir. I stoop, shaking at his shoulder. There’s a handprint where I’ve been holding on to him and as I shake he slumps forward and the back of his neck is exposed. It’s covered in frost, the outline of his spine sparkling as it catches the light.

  What have I done?

  My heart seems to fall through my chest as I lose momentum and the wave tilts with a horrendous screech, thundering, hammering. I struggle to keep myself upright, struggle to keep hold of his frozen shirt. His skin is blue-white, his Mohican stiff with ice.

  And it shouldn’t be.

  He is the warmth of autumn, the red-gold of fallen leaves, the glossy brown of bright new conkers. His copper eyes are like fire when he’s angry.

  What have I done?

  The ice collapses around us in a vast white avalanche. I can’t see anything. I can’t feel anything. I’m floundering in a sea of icy mist, tumbling head over heels in a dreamlike slow-motion, Alberic being tossed around next to me. I keep my fingers tight against his shirt, try to soften his fall, and then, just as we hit the ground, a searing brightness blinds me. I blink, and when I open my eyes everything is still again, everything as it should be. The wide, frozen lake, the pale sky above. Jack, stalking through his domain. He reaches out and I feel a surge of relief at the look of regret that softens his angular features as he looks down, then I realize it’s not for me.

  He pulls Alberic gently away from me, lifts him into his arms and turns his back.

  ‘Are you coming?’ he demands, his voice cold. He strides towards a low dome on the horizon, as the pale fingers of a rose-gold sunset begin to stretch across the sky. I stumble to my feet, slipping on the ice, trying to keep up, my eyes fixed on Alberic, willing him to move, willing it so hard that little sparks appear in the corners of my eyes. But he is motionless in my father’s arms, and I can hardly breathe myself, because I did this. I did this.

  What have I become?

  The coldest thing in my father’s home is me.

  The most frightening thing is Alberic.

  Jack is gentle; Jack is kind – when it comes to saving the life of the son of a mortal enemy. He lays Alberic on a rough wooden bench laden with furs and stokes the fire until it seems that, surely, surely his home will collapse around us in a flood of thawed ice. It doesn’t. The room quickly warms and I loiter by the door and watch and wait for Alberic to stir.

  ‘Will he be all right?’ My voice is splintered, a husk of a voice. I cringe as I hear it but I continue anyway, because I need to know. ‘I mean, this place . . . he can’t just . . . he can’t die here, can he?’ I can’t move from the door. I don’t know what to do. What can I possibly do, after all this? Should I just slink into the nearest hole and stay there, away from the world? Is that what Jack does here? Is it remorse for his cruelty that keeps him here? All the life he has ended, whether it’s large or small – it must take its toll.

  ‘He is as frail as any human; his body has limits,’ he says, his silver eyes boring into me. ‘And you’ve just about killed him. You see here . . .’ He pulls back the blankets, exposing Alberic’s shoulder: a handprint burned into his pale skin; pale skin that gets paler, more translucent even as I look. ‘His spirit is weak, it dims. I am not sure that bodily warmth will be enough.’

  ‘Then what? What do we do?’

  ‘We hope.’ He shrugs. ‘And we get him home.’

  I nod. ‘I didn’t think you would be so . . . that you would care . . .’

  ‘I would not see the son of the Earl die on my watch. Whatever their faults, neither of them deserves that.’

  I stare at him, unnerved by his attitude. We seem to be the wrong way round. He’s supposed to be doing the damage; I’m supposed to be stopping him. Isn’t that how it is? How it was? Have I changed that much?

  ‘Isn’t it about nature? Survival?’ I ask haltingly.

  ‘He should not have been here!’ Jack roars, his eyes blazing.

  ‘He wouldn’t have been, if you had stayed and fought harder!’ I shout back, the words tearing themselves out of me, hot and h
eavy. ‘He brought me here to get you back! He said we had to come, or I’d be a wraith. He said I was doing too much, but I couldn’t stop . . .’

  ‘Who said you should be doing my work anyway?’ he demands.

  ‘It was a choice,’ I say. ‘When you left, the Queen told me I couldn’t just go home. I had to stay in the court forever, or I could go out and do as you did . . . and so what else was I supposed to do? You just marched off. You left me there!’ My throat tightens. ‘Everyone else could see the truth of who I am; why wouldn’t you? Am I so awful?’

  He frowns, and the temperature of the room drops.

  ‘Why would you say such a thing?’

  ‘You abandoned me! You refused to acknowledge me, even though it’s obvious what I am!’ I feel reckless, determined to get through to him no matter what the consequences. I need him to see me, to really see me. ‘Are you afraid?’ I ask.

  ‘I am not!’ he bursts out, standing taller, the windows creaking with ice. He’s grey-white, bleak as snow clouds; his jaw lined with ice, his hair thick with it. His eyes blaze and thick strands of ice begin to travel up the walls, like the gnarled trunks of trees.

  ‘So then what?’

  ‘I cannot have a daughter!’ he says. Ice creeps across the ceiling and I shouldn’t have done it, I shouldn’t have wound him up. Alberic will freeze. ‘It isn’t possible!’

  ‘OK,’ I say in a small voice, sitting heavily on the bench across from Alberic. I barely feel the heat of the fire, I’m so tired, so bewildered by everything that has happened. I watch Alberic’s chest rise and fall and tell myself nothing else matters. I need to get him home. I need to make it all better.