Gathering Frost (Once Upon A Curse Book 1)

by Davis, Kaitlyn

  Deep in his irises, I see the truth. Though anger flares across his skin, down in the depths of his soul all that exists is pain. His heart has cracked, small at first, but spreading, extending, shattering slowly enough that he experiences each fracture. I know, because my chest feels the same, so hot with hurt that I cannot move, can barely breathe.

  I find the will to pull my gaze away, snapping any connection we ever had, and my heart finally bursts to pieces.

  The queen watches me with interest, a small smile across her lips. I am dead inside. Rotted to my core, so ashamed that I might crumble at any second, broken down from the inside out. But that only makes my act stronger. My features are stony, hard. I do not cry. I am barely aware of the world around me.

  The queen stands, stepping down off her throne. Each click of her shoes echoes across the small room, and I hold myself steady. Asher's eyes burn my cheeks, a weapon as his glare digs under my skin. But we've come too far to stop now.

  "Very well done," the queen says as she approaches. I wait for her magic to call on me, to freeze my insides. But I am not five years old anymore. I have lived. I have made choices that will haunt the rest of my years. And as her icy fingers brush my cheeks, cool and cold, I realize she cannot touch me.

  My heart is already gone. Tattered. Shredded and broken on the floor beside my feet. There is nothing in my soul for her to take because I have destroyed it already. The frost does not cover my insides, does not burn my memories away. They are all too real, too raw. The queen cannot bury me in her snowflakes. Her crystals do not crawl their way through my veins.

  Our eyes meet and in that moment our thoughts are the same, I am finally free, just as she promised. But at what price?

  "Jade." She sighs, but it is a sound filled with warmth, with excitement. Her fingers continue to caress my cheek, but the touch has become loving in a way, motherly. "I am so proud of the work you've done. You have no idea. I sent you out into the world a little girl, and you have returned more of a woman than I dared hope."

  "Stop," Asher growls. My heart clenches tight. I have never heard his voice sound so ugly. "Just stop."

  He stands and the rope falls to the floor behind him. Asher has untied my knots, but he does not reach for the knives at his waist. He does not reach for the gun strapped to his thigh. He reaches for me.

  I am immobile as his soft hand grabs my arm, pulling me away from the queen, pulling me toward him. I cannot breathe as heat floods my veins. Pain or pleasure, I'm not sure. His fingers travel up until his palms hold my face tight, force my eyes to meet his, demanding, still unable to believe what he is seeing.

  "I know what you're doing, Jade, and I won't let you." His fingers grip tighter, and I realize that Asher has guessed the truth—he has read it in my eyes. He knows that I will not let him die. Even in the face of my betrayal, he has chosen to see the good in me.

  I don't deserve such loyalty.

  It takes all my strength to keep my hands at my side, to not throw them around his neck, to stay away. I imagine his lifeless corpse dead on the ground. The vision pushes me through, helps me carry on, because in the end this will all be worth it.

  Asher will be alive.

  And I will endure any pain to make sure that happens.

  "I don't know what you mean." My voice is even, steady.

  "Don't do this to us."

  "There is no us. I'm not who you think I am. I never was."

  "I know exactly who you are, Jade. I knew it the day I met you and I know it now. You're the only one who has ever been confused," he whispers, sad, wiping my cheek one more time, as though catching an invisible tear. But I don't miss the movement of his other hand as it slips beneath his shirt, searching for a knife.

  So that is how this will end. The same way it began.

  A fight.

  I have no choice but to stop him. I need the queen to believe me, to trust that I am loyal to her unconditionally. Somehow, I know the answer is there. The way to save Asher's life rests deep in the secrets of Queen Deirdre's black heart. I'm sure of it. Why else would she need him returned unharmed? Why else did she ask me to retrieve him? We are just pawns in her plan. But if it means saving his life, I will gladly play my part.

  Asher pulls a silver blade free and I attack.

  He anticipates my punch and sidesteps it easily. But I find my footing and surge forward, aiming a kick at his abdomen. I connect. He grunts, dropping the knife, wheeling around to turn his focus completely on me.

  The queen plays bystander, watching as though we are actors in a play, amused. The commander moves to intervene as Asher and I circle one another, but she waves him off.

  This is our battle. Our fight.

  I run forward, tired of the delay, but Asher takes my hands, flipping me over his back so I land hard on the ground, wind knocked out of my lungs. I cough, finding my breath, and stand again.

  But before I even reach my knees, he punches me in the stomach and I roll, world flipping upside down then right side up again. I meet his eyes and find despair. I have forced him into this. I have pushed my gentle prince aside, have broken his spirit, have turned him into someone he does not recognize.

  Asher grabs my arms and throws me to the side. I do not even try to fight back. Because I know who he is, and I know that in the end he won't be able to do it.

  I watch as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving the handgun we hid there. The black metal is unnatural against his ivory skin, evil in the hands of a person who is so good. A tear falls free from Asher's eye as he raises the weapon higher, points the barrel at his mother's heart.

  I wonder if he feels that it is lighter than it should be, or if that sort of knowledge is only reserved for people like me, people who consider deadly weapons an extra appendage, as easy to use as my hands or feet.

  My eyes drift to the queen. No panic shines in her eyes, no doubt. Like me, she knows who her son is. She knows she has nothing at all to fear.

  The click of the safety being removed is deafening to my ear. Asher tightens his shaking hand, grasping the hilt with fingers firm, determined, resolute.

  Time halts.

  I want to scream at Asher, tell him not to do it, that he will hate himself. If he shoots, even though no bullet will fly out, the boy I love will break. Will disappear. But I can't say anything. All I can do is trust that he is not the murderer he is trying to be.

  His finger dips down to the trigger.

  And then nothing. He holds it there. Body shaking.

  He cannot shoot.

  Asher throws the gun to the side and falls to his knees, releasing a scream that rips his insides raw, tears its way out of his throat. The mourning of a man who faced his destiny and could not see it through.

  But on the inside, I smile with relief. I don't know what Asher's destiny is, but I know it was not that. He was never meant to be a killer.

  I walk over slowly, confident that all the fight has left him, and bind Asher's hands once more. He does not stir. Does not move. I want to weep for him, but I cannot. I want to brush away his tears, but I pull my hands back to my side.

  "Commander Alburn, take my son away," the queen drawls, distaste evident in her voice. I wonder for a moment if she wanted him to shoot, just to prove her wrong.

  Instead she takes my hand. "Come, Jade."

  I yearn to turn my head, to look at Asher one more time. Even if his eyes shine with hatred, I want to see them. I want a last look that I can hold close. But I have come too far to turn back now. Though Asher is alive, he must be dead to me. That is the price I paid to save his life. So I step emotionless with the queen. My heart is worn out. My mind can hardly think. Even though I am victorious, I am empty inside.

  She leads me to the balcony where this all began, where she gave me my assignment, and in my naïveté I said yes.

  "You have proven yourself to me today, Jade. It takes a very special person to break my curse. No one has done it before, but I hoped you would."

>   "Why?" I ask, emboldened.

  "Do you know how the magic works?"

  "Asher told me," I whisper. "He said he was the heir, that the magic would pass to him after you died."

  I look away, afraid that the pain in my eyes will reveal the truth. My gaze drops down to my home. The stone houses. The wall. The corroding metal. Beyond to the ocean, to the point where it meets the sky, extending farther and farther, until earth and air become one. How stupid I was to think I would ever be free of this place. To see possibilities on the horizon.

  "Yes, he would. But my son never cared much for the magic, never wanted to learn the lessons I tried to teach him. And in doing so, sealed his own fate."

  My head snaps up. "You're not going to kill him, are you?"

  I try to control my voice, to seem impassive. But she is not watching me. Her eyes are on the sky.

  "No, I'm going to replace him." She pauses, looks down at me, and I know everything is about to change. The queen is going to tell me her secrets. My heart grows lighter and I stifle a smile, because in her words I know I'll find the key to Asher's life, his freedom. All of the pain pricking my chest will be worth it.

  "My son is weak. He is too merciful to rule, and though I tried for many years, no second child has ever filled my womb. And then our worlds merged, and I met a little girl who was unafraid, fearless, and I thought perhaps my luck had changed. So I let the commander raise you, teach you to fight. You grew strong, willful. You learned to take what you wanted because the world would not hand it to you. And all the while I watched from a distance. But now you are ready."

  I can't breathe.

  Can't think.

  Here it comes. Asher's only hope. My soul's salvation.

  The queen grasps my hands, but I don't feel her skin. I am aware of nothing but the words waiting on her lips.

  "Blood is not the only thing that can define an heir. As with all things magic, there are loopholes. But the rules are very precise, and only someone strong enough to break my spell can become my new heir… Someone like you."

  A bomb explodes in my head. But the debris is not chaotic, it is organized, it falls like puzzle pieces, finding one another, forming a picture that grows ever clearer.

  I am going to be Queen Deirdre's new heir.

  When she dies the magic will fall on me.

  I stumble, holding onto the railing, bringing a smile to my face as though I am excited, but in truth my insides scream. The queen puts her arm around my shoulders, as affectionate as I've ever seen her. I am too numb to pull away.

  How did I not see this before?

  Now that the truth has been laid bare before me, it is so obvious. For a mere moment in time, I allowed myself to believe Asher and I would be together, that somehow we would save each other, that in the end our love would defy the odds. I let myself hope. But it blinded me to the one certainty I should have known all along.

  Our story has always been a tragedy.

  Asher and I were destined to meet, but not because of love. He was born into the wrong role. Asher is the good one, the gentle soul, the hero. And the fates needed to correct their mistake, so they led him to me.

  The soldier. The killer.

  I am the one destined to put a bullet in Queen Deirdre's head.

  I am the one destined to die.

  I thought betraying Asher was the worst thing I would ever do.

  I was wrong.

  The rebels march on Kardenia, and like lambs to the slaughter, I will lead them to their doom. For over a week the queen has been tracking their movement with her power, and last night they set up camp just outside New York.

  Now I am marching beyond the wall, on my way to greet them, to tell them the queen is dead. Then I will lure them into Kardenia, making their worst nightmare come true.

  I'm not sure why the queen does not pull them into her thrall already, why she didn't do it days ago, why I have been sent to retrieve them, to betray them as well.

  Is it another test of my loyalty?

  Is her magic not as strong as I believe?

  Or does she simply get pleasure from witnessing other people's pain?

  Either way, I have no choice. Queen Deirdre has not mentioned the heir transferal again. I have no idea how it works, what I must do, if Asher is even involved. And until that magic washes over me, until I am confident that I have the tools necessary to destroy her, I will do exactly as she says.

  Ahead, the end of the tree line filters into view, the divider between the forest of Central Park and the metal wreckage of old New York. Over my shoulder, the castle looms above the edge of the wall, overlooking the city, as visible in the skyline as any skyscraper. A white flag billows atop the highest spire, flopping in the sun, brilliantly catching the light. It was to be Asher and my signal that all was clear, that the queen was dead and the rebels could approach the city. But now it is an omen of the frost about to invade their bodies, the crystalline ivory that will soon incase their hearts. A sense of dread fills my veins, slowing me as though a physical weight has been pressed against my chest.

  I will free them.

  That is the only thought carrying me through. Just like I will save Asher, I will save everyone that I curse this day. A little bit of time and two bullets are all I need. Then everyone in this city will be free, forever.

  I take a deep breath, using those promises to calm myself, to prepare for the lies about to come. Closing my eyes tight, I turn back around. In the black haven behind my lids, my heartbeat slows, my mind clears, the catch in my throat disappears. I swallow and then open my eyes, ready.

  I know the rebels are out here somewhere, hidden within my metal city. My gaze travels over the broken lines before me—the bent iron, the shattered glass, the crumbling stone—searching for human life. These ruins have been my playground for years. It's only a matter of time before I find them.

  The search begins on Eighth Avenue, the route I told General Willis he should take when approaching Kardenia. The streets are clean, the road leads easily to the wall, and it is wide enough to hold an army.

  I barely walk ten blocks before I see them approaching, decorated in all different clothes—ashen grays, deep blacks, camouflaged greens. There is no reason, no uniform, but I like it. Somehow it seems the exact way freedom fighters should look. They do not stop when they see me, but instead press forward until we are only a few feet apart. I don't fail to notice that they have not lowered their weapons.

  I raise my empty hands, open, trying to convey that I come as a friend, I come in victory, and there is no reason to fight. Though my muscles are tight, anxious about what I must do, a smile comes easily to my face. Despite it all, I am happy to see these people. Excited even. The rebel base had started to feel like home, and I miss it.

  From behind the front line, General Willis steps through the crowd. The silver in his hair catches the light and his face is grooved with shadows. Out in the open, drenched in sunlight, he looks smaller than I remembered. Frailer. Older.

  "Where is Asher?" he asks. No greeting. No hello. Though I try not to care, it stings, a little puncture in my chest.

  I swallow the hurt back down. "He waits for us in the city." Not a lie, not quite. But those will come eventually.

  "Our electronics stopped working a few days ago. Why?"

  Internally, I shake my head. The rebels should have stopped. They should have known not to march for that exact reason, but they had hope. Hope in Asher. Hope in me. Hope that they would see their families once again. The second they crossed into the queen's realm, their fate was sealed. Even if I fail today, even if they kill me, I have no doubt that she will enthrall them, control them, bring them into the folds of her city.

  That is the exact reason I must press on.

  "There is something Asher did not tell you," my voice is airy, too quiet to be convincing. I force conviction into the words even as I hate myself for using Asher's deepest secret against him. Stronger, fuller, I continue. "He is the que
en's son. He was always immune to her power because he was her heir. And when we killed her, those powers transferred to him. The magic is not gone, not yet."

  "He tricked us," the general curses. Weapons click all around me, the subtle shift that means they are ready to fire. My heart sinks just a little. Asher and I were never one of these people, not really. We've only ever had each other.

  "No." My voice is sad, hurt. I am not acting at all. "He never meant to hurt you. Asher is going to take his own life. He is going to sacrifice himself. He just wanted to say goodbye first."

  I'm not sure if the general is convinced. He makes no move against me. He makes no move at all. Jaw locked, eyes narrowed, he tries to read me. Doubt blazes in his eyes. But the row of guns behind him wobbles. They all want so badly to believe me, to believe that a decade of fighting is finally going to end in victory.

  "Do you really think we would be standing here talking if Asher wanted to keep the magic, to reign like his mother?" Disgust burns my throat, sharpens my tone, adds a bite. How can they really think Asher would betray them? After everything he wanted to give up, his own life. Indignation boils my blood. How dare they doubt him. Now more than ever, I'm glad I stopped him, my gentle prince. These people never deserved his sacrifice.

  "If Asher wanted to use the magic, you would all be cursed right now, faster than you could blink. But you're not. And inside that city, everything you've ever wanted since the earthquake waits for you." My chiding is working, perhaps because real anger fuels my words, or perhaps because of their own guilt. I'm not sure. But I do know the weapons are starting to lower, that even General Willis is growing soft.

  "Please," I add. My voice cracks, breaks. I am no longer thinking of Asher, I am thinking of myself. Of what I will give up to save them. Of what I've already given up. And all of it will be for nothing if I can't convince the rebels to continue on, if I can't convince the queen that I am capable of endless betrayal, that I am just like her.