Crown of Ice (7 page)

My lie has given him a goal he’ll not easily abandon.

I walk into the Great Hall, Luki at my heels. Kai’s bent over the mirror, the remaining shards spread out along the edge of the table. He’s thinner than the day I brought him to the palace. I make a mental note to remind him to eat.

Kai glances up as I enter the chamber. “There are three pieces missing.”

“Two,” I say, crossing to stand beside him. “I told you. I have one, Voss keeps the other.”

“No.” Shadows blue as bruises ring Kai’s eyes. “I mean there are three other pieces unaccounted for.”

“Are you sure?” I stare at the row of glittering shards.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kai holds up his notebook. “I’ve reviewed my calculations multiple times. According to my figures, there should be three more shards, beyond what we have and the two you and Voss hold.”

I swallow a swear word along with my fear. “Voss told me he’d collected them all.”

“He lied.” Kai shrugs. “The question is—does he possess any knowledge of their whereabouts?”

“But that makes no sense.” I pick up one of the pieces and examine it from all sides. “He’s desperate for me to complete the mirror. Why would he lie about such a thing?”

“Perhaps he simply forgot.” The boy bends down to pat Luki, who allows such caresses only from me or Kai. The wolf won’t permit Voss to approach him. “You told me it’s been ages since he collected the fragments. He may have realized it once, but over time his memory of such things could’ve slipped.”

“Perhaps.” I carefully place the piece of reflective glass on the tabletop. “It might be in his notes, if he ever knew some shards were missing.”

“And his notes would be, where?” Kai turns the full force of his gaze on me. His lips are drawn into a sharp line; his face is all angles and planes. He looks nothing like the ruddy cheeked boy I watched skating across a frozen lake.

I’ve done this—transformed Kai into another creature just as Voss transmuted me. But in this instance it didn’t require magic, only a lie.

“In his chambers, I suppose.”

Kai collects the shards and gently places them in the wooden box. “I’ve located his rooms, but the door’s always locked.”

“He allows no one entry.” I think of that heavy door. It’s covered in silver, with strange symbols embossed into the metal. “I’ve never glimpsed inside, as many years as I’ve lived here.”

“The two of us might be able to find a way. If we put our minds to it.” Kai gives me one of those appraising looks that make me bite the inside of my cheek.

I’m the Snow Queen. He’s nothing but an ordinary village boy. An ordinary boy with an extraordinary mind, but nonetheless—not my equal.

“Voss left this morning,” continues Kai, looking away. “I watched him go. Will he return soon, do you think?”

“Not before nightfall.” I turn and walk to the windows. “Kai,” I gaze out at the white and gray landscape, “I haven’t told you yet, what the mirror means to me.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain this now, but the words tumble out, spilling from my lips like water over stones. I tell him of my deadline, of the horror of my eighteenth birthday, of what will happen if I fail to restore Voss’s enchanted looking glass.

“A wraith?” Kai asks. I realize that while I’ve been speaking, staring blindly out the window, he’s moved close to me. “Like those creatures in the dark halls?”

“You’ve seen them?” I turn and bump into his elbow. His face is only inches from mine.

“Seen them, heard them, beat them back.” Kai’s brown eyes have softened. They remind me, for a moment, of Bae. “So they were the Snow Queens who came before you? And they all failed in their task?”

“Yes.” I lift my chin and meet Kai’s stare without flinching. “But I refuse to become a wraith. Whatever it takes, I won’t fail. I intend to remain Snow Queen forever.”

“No, you won’t fail. Not with my help.” Kai touches the back of my hand with his fingertips. “It seems we both have much at stake.”

A human touch. Something I haven’t felt in years. I tighten my fingers as my hand trembles slightly

Luki slides in between us, breaking Kai’s contact with my skin. I pat the wolf absently and glance outside. Over that distant mountain ridge, across valleys, past the rise of mountains beyond, is another world. A world I may never see. Yet I can, at least, hold on to what is mine.

“Let’s consider, then”—I whirl about to face Kai—“how to break into a wizard’s lair.”

He smiles. It’s a smile that does nothing to warm his expression.

***

The door to Voss’s chambers has no knobs or obvious clasps. Kai runs his hands over every symbol, feeling with his fingers for any hidden latches. We study the door for some time. After a while I give Luki leave to depart for his daily run, a necessity if I want to avoid him dashing recklessly down the palace halls in the middle of the night.

Kai argues with me, claiming we might need the wolf. “Who knows what’s behind these doors? He could provide valuable protection.”

“We have to pass through the doors before we need to worry about that.” I narrow my eyes as I stare at the recalcitrant portal. “There’s obviously magic at work here. Stand off and allow me to concentrate.”

“Very well, my queen.” Kai executes a sketchy bow as he backs away.

I shoot him a fierce glance. “It’s in your best interests to follow my lead.”

“No doubt,” says Kai. He leans against the icy wall next to the door. The magic I’ve wrapped about him is obviously working. He never shivers anymore, not even when dressed in only a woolen tunic and breeches, as he is now.

I close my eyes for a moment, concentrating on nothing but openings. A tendril of heat tickles the back of my neck—the echo of the spell holding the door tight. The sense of warmth reminds me of growing things; of green vines curling about the hidden, hard buds of new fruit. I reach for that vine and grasp it with my mind. A simple incantation, in the end. It’s clear that Voss doesn’t hold my powers in high regard.

A swooshing sound fills my ears, and I open my eyes. The door stands ajar and Kai’s staring at me. It’s a look I remember from that day in the church, when he first recognized my mathematical abilities.

“I keep forgetting,” he says, “that you’re no longer simply Thyra Winther.”

“Wiser for you to remember,” I reply as we step through the doorway.

“Can you conjure some light?” Kai’s hands are stretched out before him, exploring the thick darkness.

I call forth a ball of cold flame. Stretching out my cupped hands, I spy tapestries draped over rods that run along the opposite wall of the room. “I think there may be windows.”

Kai’s already several steps ahead of me. He reaches the stone wall and drags back the heavy drapes with both hands. Sunlight pours into the chamber, illuminating every corner.

It’s a large room, but buried by objects. Every inch of space is filled with shelves and counters, which are, in turn, groaning under the weight of ceramic urns, wooden boxes, tin pails, and glass vessels filled with liquids of every hue and viscosity.

“This isn’t going to be easy.” Kai crosses to the tall wooden table that divides the room. “Forget a needle in a haystack; this is like looking for one snowflake in a blizzard.”

“Rather my specialty,” I say, joining him at the counter. I lift an odd tangle of roots tied into a bundle. “I think we need to concentrate on papers, or notebooks, that type of thing.”

Kai’s gaze sweeps the room. “Why don’t I start searching those two walls? You can investigate this table and the third wall. There appears to be nothing of interest on that side.” He points to the window wall.

“Very well, but remember we’re dealing with a mage of great power. Be careful what you touch.”

Kai nods, his expression suddenly solemn. “He may have laid traps?”

“Possibly. More likely just remnants of his magic.” I stare at the table, scanning the clutter for any evidence of paper. I spy a notebook and grab it, knocking over a small, brightly enameled box. The box clatters to the floor, spilling its contents—a large, yellowed, tooth.

Kai looks up from his examination of the north wall. “Careful,” he says, with a swift grin. As he lifts a jug from a shelf the tooth vibrates and skitters across the uneven stone floor.

“Watch out!” I shout as the tooth bounces off Kai’s heel. He turns in time to see a column of amber smoke rise from the floor. It spins like a dusty whirlwind. Kai falls back against the shelving.

A form coalesces within the smoke. Something broad, and bulky, and covered in fur. A paw slashes out, claws like curved knives slicing the air. It’s a bear, I realize, yet not a bear. One of Voss’s creations.

“Kai!” I toss him the metal lid I’ve snatched off a wooden barrel. He grabs the make-shift shield and scrambles to his feet as I clench my fist to form an ice crystal. I toss the icy spear at the bear-thing, piercing its flank. It turns swiftly on its flickering, smoke-wreathed paws. I conjure another crystal to hurl into its massive chest.

“Behind you!” shouts Kai as he rushes toward the bear’s back, clutching a jagged piece of wood ripped from the shelving. I spin about to see an undulating form rise from the open barrel.

A great snake lifts its heavy head, its glittering body twisting in the air. It’s clear as mountain water, its scales an overlay of ice crystals. Fangs sharp as stalactites drip from its hissing mouth. I swear and call forth a ball of fire that singes my fingers. I try never to handle real fire, but this is an extremity. As I throw the flaming orb at the snake I hear heavy footfalls behind me.

Kai leaps between me and the bear, swinging the make-shift spear like a pike. He drives the creature back as I hurl another ball of flame at the snake.

I barely have time to observe the icy reptile quiver and melt into the barrel before whirling about to discover the bear advancing on Kai, claws slicing at the air.

“Quick,” I say, “throw me the lid.”

Kai sweeps up the metal disk and slings it at me. I slam the lid onto the rim of the barrel, keeping my eyes on the bear’s shifting bulk. I draw on my magic until I feel my fingers tingle.

“Got any ideas?” Kai shouts, still standing his ground with only a slender piece of wood blocking the bear from reaching us.

I rub my hands together, spinning a long spear of ice out of nothingness. “Duck!” I yell and hurl the spear at the bear’s chest.

The smoke creature staggers backward.

“Magic to fight magic,” I tell Kai. “You’ve held him off long enough. Now get behind me.”

I glimpse reluctance in Kai’s eyes, but his logic overwhelms his pride. He jumps back as I leap forward, a massive ball of fire blooming in my hands. I rush the bear who, not expecting an attack, stumbles and falls to all fours.

I slam my hands down upon the bear’s massive head, releasing the fiery orb. It pierces the bear’s misty skull and explodes.

“Now!” I shout to Kai, “Stab it! Pin it to the ground!”

Kai rushes forward and jams his make-shift weapon into the bear’s back. As the light of my fire illuminates the bear’s head from the inside out, its body shreds, fur and bone dissolving into mist. Swallowed in the evaporating cloud, Kai releases the wooden pike. It totters and clatters to the flagstones as the creature dissolves in a final swirl of smoke.

We clutch hands and stumble backward, collapsing against the edge of the tall worktable, both breathing heavily.

“Well,” says Kai, wiping his damp forehead with the back of his free hand, “I see what you mean about the magic part. Perhaps we’d better not touch anything unless it resembles a book.”

I release my grip on his fingers. “Even that might not be safe.” I glance at the notebook I’d grabbed earlier. It lay on the edge of the table, innocently still. “But I suppose we must take our chances.”

“I told you we should’ve kept Luki with us.” Kai brushes off his dusty breeches. He glances at me. “Your powers come in handy in a crisis, I must confess, Snow Queen.”

“As does your quick thinking.” I catch his brief smile before he turns back to study the wall of shelving.

I flip open the notebook, readying myself to draw upon my magic for defense, but the pages lie flat, covered with nothing but figures. Voss must have tried calculating the reconstruction of the mirror, long ago. The ink on the pages has faded to a pale violet, and the paper is brittle, crumbling at my touch. I toss aside the notebook, and resume my examination of the objects piled upon the table.

After a time I exhaust my study of the table and stride to the third wall of shelving. Kai hasn’t spoken since the incident with Voss’s magical creatures. I glance at him, observing his methodical search of the other walls. He’s careful to open nothing that can’t possibly contain papers or a book.

I rummage through several piles of fabric, obviously remnants of ancient, elegant, clothing. There are velvets and satins and silks, each garment bearing traces of exquisite needlework, the ragged collars and cuffs embroidered with silver and gold. On a tattered bodice, a single pearl still dangles from one loose thread. I lift a soft scrap to my cheek. It feels like the brush of a rose petal against my skin, evoking a recollection of flowers, and warmth, and grass beneath my feet. I toss the fabric to the floor and continue my search.

Kai whistles loudly. He’s holding up a book, its pages bound between covers of finely worked metal. I cross the room in several long strides and rip the book from Kai’s hands. It’s a thick volume, the rippled edges of its pages tipped in gold. I rub my hand over the filigree surface of its binding, realizing that the powdery black finish is tarnish on silver. Golden straps and hasps lock the book shut.

“This looks promising.” Kai wipes his grimy hands on his tunic.

“Yes, but opening it could prove dangerous.” I meet Kai’s implacable stare. “Remember what happened earlier.”

“Carry it over to the windows. Let’s put some distance between the book and the rest of Voss’s enchantments.” Kai crosses swiftly to the far wall, motioning for me to follow.

Laying the book on the window ledge I stare at it for some time, my palm pressed against its cold metal cover. “I don’t sense any magic,” I say at last.