Snowflake Freezes Up

by Joan Holub

  He nodded. Reading her startled expression, he seemed to misinterpret it. Quickly, he added, “I’m not trying to show off with the crown. It’s just that I promised my parents I’d wear it when I officially meet the principal.”

  There were lots of princes and princesses here at GA. When new students enrolled, especially royalty like this boy, she’d heard there was often a ball to celebrate. There’d been no fanfare or big announcement upon her arrival, though. Probably wouldn’t have been even if she’d been a princess. Because when she’d first come to GA, Principal R had been missing, so no one had been feeling very festive.

  The boy headed back down the hall the way they’d come. After a half-dozen steps, he turned so he was walking backward away from her. “So what’s your name? What fairy tale are you from?”

  “Good luck finding that crown. See you!” she said, speaking over him.

  He sent her a surprised, almost-hurt look. However, Snowflake gave him the cold shoulder so as to avoid having to admit she had no idea how to answer his question. She’d been dropped on the orphanage doorstep without a clue as to her identity. It had been snowing that day, so the grandmother had simply named her Snowflake. And the name had stuck.

  The instant the boy turned away, she regretted that she hadn’t explained at least a little of her story to him. But she’d waited a few seconds too long. By now he was too far away for her to say anything without yelling. With a regretful shrug, Snowflake stepped through the door into the office.

  The office was bustling, filled with other students who all seemed to be talking to Ms. Jabberwocky about Scrying. That was a class where they were supposed to use crystal balls and mirrors to look into the future. Snowflake had it fourth period. But since the Scrying teacher, Ms. Wicked, had escaped to avoid banishment right before Snowflake had arrived at GA, they’d just had study hall all week.

  Before Snowflake could find out what was going on here exactly, the trolls from the library walked in. She got pushed aside and wound up standing next to two Grimm girls, Rose (aka Sleeping Beauty) and Snow White. Although Snowflake had kept to herself all week, her eyes and ears had been open, and she’d learned a lot about who was who around here.

  “Troll Moving Company,” the head troll announced to Ms. Jabberwocky. “You summoned us?”

  “Callooh! Callay! Yes, I’ve been expecting you,” the principal’s assistant told the trolls. She had a language all her own, and when she’d pronounced the letter p, a bit of fire had sputtered out of her nostrils.

  Snowflake tensed and glanced toward the door to the hall, ready to run if the whole place went up in flames. Luckily, Prince Knightly, who was Rose’s crush, stepped on the bit of fire. It fizzled out on the floor under his boot.

  Meanwhile, Ms. Jabberwocky was waving the movers into another smaller office beyond this one. The sign on its door read: PRINCIPAL R’S OFFICE.

  “Please cover and remove all the mirrors from the principal’s office. Store them in the library, in Section M for mirrors,” she instructed.

  “Good! That ought to stop Ms. Wicked from coming back to the Academy through one of those mirrors,” Snowflake heard Rose murmur to Snow White.

  “Yeah. We’re better off with her in the Nothingterror … or wherever she ended up,” Snow White replied. The Dark Nothingterror was an awful place outside the realm, so it was kind of surprising Snow White felt that way. After all, Ms. Wicked was her stepmom!

  When the trolls promptly began taking Ms. Wicked’s mirrors away from the principal’s office, Snow White glanced at Snowflake. The girl must have seen her puzzled look, because she added, “My stepmom was a member of E.V.I.L. That’s —”

  “Exceptional Villains in Literature?” Snowflake interrupted before Snow White could finish explaining. “Yeah, I know about them. News that big has spread to every village in the realm by now, I expect.”

  Rumor was that the mysterious and villainous society had existed around the time the two Grimm brothers had penned their fairy-tale books. But it had later died out. For some reason, it had begun to operate again in recent months. And it seemed bent on weakening the magical wall around Grimmlandia that had kept all the fairy-tale, nursery-rhyme, and other literary characters within its borders safe for more than a century. Since Snowflake had come to GA, she’d also heard rumors about a counter organization some students had begun called G.O.O.D. (aka Grimm Organization of Defense), but it hadn’t really gotten off the ground yet as far as she could tell.

  Just then, two trolls passed Snowflake carrying a stack of medium-size mirrors out the door and into the hall. Behind them came another troll carrying a single mirror that anyone could see was much too big for one troll to handle. Struggling, he bumped Ms. Jabberwocky’s desk and sent a bunch of papers to the floor. When he nearly dropped the mirror, too, Ms. Jabberwocky and two princes named Awesome and Foulsmell pitched in to rescue it.

  “Thanks,” the troll told them, sounding relieved. “Wouldn’t want to upset the big guy.” He nodded toward the principal’s office.

  “No worries,” replied Ms. Jabberwocky. “We all need a mimsy bit of help now and then.” Once the troll was gone, she moved toward her desk and spoke to the gathered students. “I’ve called you to the office to let you know you’re all being temporarily transferred out of Scrying class until we locate a new instructor.”

  Phew, thought Snowflake. Looked like Ms. Queenharts hadn’t ratted on her about her bad quiz grade in Comportment as she’d assumed. Maybe she’d cut that teacher some slack and try to think more kindly of her from now on.

  Snow White and Rose had been busily picking up the papers that had fallen. They handed them to Ms. Jabberwocky, who pulled a somewhat scorched sheet of vellum from the stack. Reading from it, she quickly began calling out reassignments.

  Her eyes on the list, Ms. Jabberwocky eventually came to Snowflake’s name. “Let’s see, you have Scrying fourth period. You’ll be reassigned to Drama. It’s in the auditorium.”

  Snowflake wasn’t sure this was such a great thing. Drama wouldn’t be like most classes where you could sit at a desk and keep to yourself. No, she’d be expected to speak up in Drama and interact with other students. It would be hard to lurk and be standoffish. Not at all a good fit.

  “Can I choose a different class?” she asked.

  Ms. Jabberwocky frowned. “I’m sorry, but since the auditorium can easily absorb a tulgey large number of students, your entire class is being reassigned there. You’ll have to make the best of it.”

  Stomp! Stomp! Before Snowflake could protest further, the principal came out of his office. He had a long nose and a long chin, and wore a tall hat. Although the troll had called him a “big guy,” he was actually a gnome, three feet tall at most. Which was still a little taller than the trolls, though.

  He came to a dead stop right in front of her. Uh-oh, she thought. I’m in trouble now. Maybe she’d been too quick to think Ms. Queenharts hadn’t tattled on her.

  But all the principal said, or rather shouted, was, “You’re new? Good! Another candidate. Come with me.” Snowflake winced. He might be small, but his voice was loud. Without waiting for her to answer in the affirmative, he headed back into his office, obviously expecting her to follow.

  “Go on in and try,” Ms. Jabberwocky urged her when she didn’t move right away. “You’re one of his last hopes. Every other student here at GA has tried and failed to spin the straw into gold. We were expecting that straw would be the answer to the Academy’s money troubles. But after so many failures, it’s looking, well, grim.”

  Snowflake knew all that. She’d heard kids talking. It was said that the straw could be spun into gold by the right person, if only that person could be found. She would have thought that “right person” would be Principal Rumpelstiltskin himself, since he’d done so in his fairy tale. But for some reason, that didn’t seem to be the case.

  “Soon, it’ll be back to our alchemy experiments if we can’t figure out the secret of the straw!
” yelled the principal, overhearing.

  “Can’t say I’ll be sorry,” Ms. Jabberwocky merrily called back. “Those experiments were a blast, if you know what I mean. A fiery blast.” She laughed at her own joke, snorting out a quick blast of smoke.

  Warily eyeing Ms. Jabberwocky’s fire-breathing snout, Snowflake darted for the principal’s office. Unfortunately, the dragon lady followed, leaving the other students to wait.

  “Good luck!” Snow White called after Snowflake. She touched the four-leaf-clover amulet she wore on a chain around her neck. That was nice of her. Snowflake almost thanked her, but then, in the nick of time, thought better of it and pretended not to hear.

  Once inside Principal R’s office, Snowflake could see that, although the troll movers had already removed a dozen or so mirrors, there were still many more on the walls to take down. Her eyes slid from the mirrors to an old wooden spinning wheel that stood in a corner. A mirror had been leaning against the wheel but now a troll headed out of the office with it. Considering she’d only replaced the principal for a very short time, Ms. Wicked had certainly left her stamp on this office. But once her mirrors were gone, the room would become Principal R’s again.

  Snowflake sat on the stool beside the spindle. When the principal pulled a single magic piece of straw out from under his hatband, she took a turn at trying to spin it into gold using both hands to twist the straw onto the spindle, which was really just a tall wooden spool. She wasn’t surprised when she failed.

  Principal R sighed, took the straw from her, and stuck it back under the band encircling the top part of his hat. Looking a bit crabby now, he silently trudged over to sit on the throne behind his desk.

  As Snowflake stood, she watched Ms. Jabberwocky check her name off a long list. “I don’t get it. Why doesn’t Principal R spin the gold himself?” Snowflake wondered in a quiet voice.

  Looking alarmed, Ms. Jabberwocky put a long, bony green finger to her lips and shook her head to shush her.

  Snowflake thought she’d spoken too softly for anyone except Ms. Jabberwocky to hear, but now she noticed through the open doorway that everyone in the outer office had gone quiet. And they weren’t the only ones to have heard.

  “It’s not my fault!” Principal R shouted, his face turning beet red. “Don’t you think I’ve tried to spin the straw into gold?”

  To Snowflake’s amazement, he proceeded to hop up on the seat of his throne and from there onto his desk. Stomping his feet, he ripped off his hat. Then he started jumping around on the desk like a crazed cricket. Her jaw dropped at the sight. Maybe Cranky-Cricketstiltskin would be a good nickname for him! Though it was kind of a mouthful.

  A teacher at her old school had once said that anger sometimes came from embarrassment. Had her question made the principal feel embarrassed that he had failed at spinning the straw into gold? And had that embarrassment swelled into this uncontrollable anger? She knew what a grimmawful feeling that was because there were times she got really, really mad, too. Usually, with disastrous magical results, like the time she’d somehow conjured up a swarm of albino bees to sting some mean girls in her village. She really wished she hadn’t said anything to upset him.

  Ms. Jabberwocky tried to smooth things over, ushering Snowflake back into the outer office. “He’ll calm down in a little while,” she assured her.

  “Good try with that straw,” Rose said in sympathy when Snowflake rejoined the girls.

  “Yeah, its magic is really turning out to be tough to crack,” added Snow White.

  “Brillig! All this hard work. I need a snack,” Ms. Jabberwocky declared. Using two fingers, she fished up a jalapeño pepper from a jar on her desk that was sitting next to what appeared to be an oversize glass bowling ball. No, it was a big snow globe, Snowflake realized. She looked on in horror as the office assistant tilted her head back and opened her jaws wide, displaying sharp dragon teeth. With a toss of her clawed green hand, the hot pepper flew up into the air. When it fell and met her dragon fire, who knew what could happen?

  Snowflake didn’t want to wait around to see more. Fleeing what she assumed was imminent fire danger, she sprinted for the exit. But before she got far, a boy stepped into the office, blocking her way out. It was the boy, er, prince she’d met in the hall. And he was wearing a gold crown now.

  “O frabjous day!” Ms. Jabberwocky had chomped the pepper in seconds flat and now rushed toward the prince. Her snout was curved into a big-toothed smile.

  At the same time, the principal came out of his office. He was smiling now, too. So just as Ms. Jabberwocky had implied, his anger didn’t last long. Snowflake’s anger was like that, too. Quick to come, quick to go.

  “Look, gimble girls and boys! This is my nephew,” Ms. Jabberwocky informed the remaining students in the office. She beamed proudly at the prince.

  What? thought Snowflake. But this boy didn’t look anything like a dragon!

  Ms. Jabberwocky’s nephew grinned and whipped off his crown momentarily, favoring them with a princely bow. “The name’s Dragonbreath,” he said.

  “Prince Dragonbreath,” his dragon aunt added. “From the royal side of our family.”

  The other girls greeted him with curtsies and the boys with welcoming phrases. However, Snowflake backed away, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re a d-d-dragon?”

  “Best shape-shifter in his school. First in his flame-throwing class this semester, too,” bragged Ms. Jabberwocky. “Show them, Dragonbreath,” she said to the prince.

  “No! That’s okay,” said Snowflake, edging around the prince and toward the door again.

  Oops! In her haste to be off, she bumped one of the trolls. She watched in dismay as the large gold-framed oval mirror he’d been carrying knocked more stuff off Ms. Jabberwocky’s desk.

  “Bandersnatch!” Ms. Jabberwocky shouted in alarm. “That mirror was Ms. Wicked’s favorite one — the mirror she escaped through to the Nothingterror!”

  After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Papers fluttering everywhere. Something heavy — the snow globe! — bouncing off the mirror. The globe hitting the floor and rolling over into a corner of the room. The mirror falling to the floor.

  Crash! The students all stared as the mirror broke. Its glass splintered, sending dozens of dangerously sharp shards flying outward.

  “Look out!” shouted Prince Dragonbreath. He leaped in front of Snowflake and the other girls to protect them from danger.

  Snowflake was mortified. This whole catastrophe was all her fault! Swift anger swelled inside her. Oh, why did this have to happen? She’d only been here a week and already … disaster!

  Don’t get upset, she tried to tell herself.

  She knew that the anger she was feeling came from embarrassment, as perhaps the principal’s anger had earlier. She’d caused such a mess, such trouble, in front of everyone! But although she struggled to rein in her swirling emotions, the anger escaped. She could feel her cheeks turn red. Her hands clenched into fists.

  “Chill,” she whispered, trying to calm herself down. But the word turned out to have a surprisingly different effect. Before her very eyes, everyone in the office froze in their tracks. Literally!

  Snowflake backed against the office wall and stared in shock at the immobile figures all around her. Before she could decide what to do, the small shards of mirrored glass magically lifted from the floor where they’d fallen and began to swirl, forming a tornado. Within seconds, it grew larger and wilder, blowing her hair and skirt. Finally, the shard tornado turned sideways and was abruptly sucked through the office window to whirl out of sight. Weird!

  But Snowflake was more concerned about everyone else in the room. They were all still frozen in various poses. Prince Dragonbreath’s arms were outspread in the act of trying to protect her and the other girls from the shards. There were astonished expressions on Snow White’s and Rose’s pretty faces. And then there was Red Riding Hood, a girl from Snowflake’s Scrying class, who had entered
the office just as that icy magic had let itself loose. Red had become a statue in the act of opening the lid of a basket she held over one arm.

  Snowflake shivered. Where had this new “chill” ability of hers come from, anyway? Her upset feelings had caused odd things to happen before, but this was the first time she’d actually frozen anyone. Oh, if only she could control her emotions!

  In the middle of the office, two of the trolls were stiffly posed in comical stances, having bumped into each other as they lunged to save the mirror before more harm befell it. Beyond them stood Ms. Jabberwocky. A snort of fiery billowing smoke had hardened in a cloud shape to hang a few inches away from her snout. And the principal had frozen in angry mid-hop, hovering about a foot above the floor.

  Snowflake touched the arm of the nearest girl, Rose. To her surprise, Rose’s arm wasn’t cold. Though everyone appeared frozen, they were quickly beginning to thaw out. Phew! In fact, she could already see some of them starting to move a little. Fingers twitched. Locks of hair shifted. What a relief to learn that her chilly magic was wearing off!

  But what now? What would Principal R say when he unfroze? When his letter requesting her attendance at this academy had come to the orphanage last week, it had mentioned her “budding powers.” How he had heard about them she had no clue. But if the rumors were true, at least part of the reason she’d been invited here was because he wanted to keep an eye on those powers. She had a feeling the principal wasn’t going to approve of being turned into an icicle.

  Panicking, she gazed wildly at the still-life figures around her. What should she do? Pose stiffly and pretend she’d been frozen, too, so others wouldn’t guess she’d been responsible for this? No! An impulse to flee shot through her, and she dashed for the door. Oops! She stumbled over the mirror frame along the way and fell. As she stood and righted herself, she picked it up. Although it was four feet tall, it wasn’t all that heavy with its glass gone.

  She started to lean it against Ms. Jabberwocky’s desk, but then behind her she heard the principal yawn as if waking up from a long sleep. Panicking anew, Snowflake ran out of the office, accidentally taking the frame with her.