New Frost: Winter Witches (2 page)

And he agreed with mom, that I shouldn't use these powers. For the same reason my mom feared.
 

"Nature will find you, and take you from your mother. Losing you like she lost your father will destroy her, Amelia."
 

But I was nineteen now. And this what ever it was…was getting stronger.
 

•••

The town of
Dahlonega
was as picturesque as a postcard. Hailed as the site of the first major U.S. Gold Rush and the middle of Georgia Wine Country, the town was home to a booming tourist trade. Travelers from other states as well as nearby Atlanta came to
Dahlonega
to see the foothills of the Appalachian mountains. I loved the square with its quaint shops all decorated for Christmas. Sparkling white and color lights twinkled in window seals, framing winter scenes of kids playing in the snow. Crow parked the car because we planned on raiding the general store on the end for some supplies. I wanted to get chips, sodas, and stuff to make a pizza. I had plans for movies and popcorn later as well, and Crow was just going to have to live with it.
 

I loved the crisp feel of the air as well as the cold. The Atlanta heat always made me wilt. It literally drained all of my energy. When I was twelve I suffered my first head stroke. Ended up in the hospital for two days before being released with the warning I would always be susceptible to high temperatures.
 

Picking the college in
Dahlonega had been no accident. I wanted to go to college even
further
north, like New York or Maine, just to see snow and enjoy the cooler temperatures. But out of state tuition was beyond what mom could afford and neither one of us wanted to get stuck with student loan payments after graduation.
 

Crow followed me into a few of the shops, standing patiently by as I looked for new Christmas ornaments for the tree trimming the next night. There were two other customers inside, along with a smiling lady behind the counter. This particular shop had three decorated Christmas trees with themes. One was Autumn, with leaves and pinecones painted in reds, soft greens, golds, oranges and browns. A second tree had a Superhero theme and was decorated with ornaments of Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, Aquaman, Ironman, etc.
 

It was the third tree that pulled me to the back of the shop. This tree was the tallest of the three and decorated in a white winter wonderland. Iridescent snowflakes, garland, icicles, and tiny little white winged fairies covered the tree. It was the most beautiful thing I could ever remember seeing. I stood gaping at it for a few seconds before I pulled out my phone and took pictures of it.
 

"You like this one?" Crow asked as he stood by me.
 

"I do." I moved around it and snapped a few more pictures. "I'd love to decorate our tree like this, but I doubt mom would go for an all white tree."
 

"She has enough ornaments for it."

I paused and did a quick inventory of the decorations of Christmas past. "Yeah…you're right. She does."
 

One of the ornaments flashed a little brighter than the rest so I slipped my phone into my pocket and carefully reached between the icicles and garland to pull it out. I made a small noise when I saw it was a tiny plastic depiction of Jack Frost. I stepped back, turned away and strode out of the shop.
 

The cool, crisp air had a bit of wind to it is as I moved across the street to one of the tree-lined sidewalks. The sun had nearly set and the lamps along Town Square were bright and cheery. White lights decorated every tree as I stood still and looked up at the mountain range
 

"Amelia?"
 

I didn't turn toward Crow when I felt his warmth beside me. "Tell me about him."
 

"Who?"

"My dad."

The older man sighed and I caught him rearranging his large black Stetson on his head in my periphery. "He was young…too young to die. He was a good cop and he was a good man."

"And the bullet—"
 

"Pierced his heart. Your grandmother was a good shot at such close range. I…I ah think about that moment every day. I think…" He paused and I turned and looked up at him. "I wish there was some way I could go back and take the bullet myself. I know you don't believe your mother, or me, when we tell you about him. About what he became."
 

"Can you still hear him, Crow? Can you still see him?"
 

"Sometimes I think I can, or do. In the beginning, for the first few winters I saw him. He liked to come to my window and sit on the roof. But every time I saw him…he was less human, and more…" Crow raised his shoulders again as he spoke. "More Jack Frost."
 

"You know it's just too hard for me to believe."
 

Crow turned to look down at me, though his face was half hidden under the shadows of the hat. "I do. So does he. Deities…Gods…Totems…they all exist in physical form because of faith and belief. When your uncle was Jack Frost, he maintained his human life. But he fell in love and no longer wanted to be Jack Frost. I suspect that's when Nature arranged for his mortal life to end. And when she discovered Jackson lived…from that moment he was destined to be this."
 

I'd heard this before, so many times. But for some reason it was actually staying with me. It was like looking at a puzzle for years and not seeing the answer until one day…it clicked and the entirety of it made sense. "The things I can do…are because of him. Because of his blood in me. Did my dad do these kinds of things? Before he died?" I touched the thin light covered maple in front of me. Ice instantly formed around my hand, shot up the cords from the lights. Ice formed small flowers like poinsettias around each light.
 

Crow put his hand on mine and moved it form the tree. "Yes he did. But not until after his brother was killed. You've been doing this since you were a baby."
 

"I have?" This was news to me.
 

When Crow laughed I jumped a little. I couldn't ever remember him laughing. "You are your father's child. But you're not like him. You are a witch."
 

"I'm a witch? What does that mean?"
 

"That you are special. That you are
Nunnehi
as he was. But you are more human."
 

"So my dad was human…and the reason he can't be human again was because he was cremated?"
 

My dad's best friend and partner looked so sad. I put my arm on his sleeve.
 

"Amelia…" Crow set down the package he was holding and faced me. I could see him clearly in the lamp light. The cold wind felt good on my cheeks. I unbuttoned my coat and pulled it off so I could hold it in my hand and let my body breath with the soothing air. "He's not cremated."
 

Okay…that wasn't something I thought he'd say. "What do you mean he's
not
cremated?"

"Please don't tell Sarah I told you this, but his body disappeared in the morgue. It's a well kept secret. The bullet was still lodged in his heart and they were going to remove it during the autopsy. Use it in their case against his mother." He made an odd face. "It disappeared."
 

I dropped my coat on top of the bags. "Wait…you're telling me my dad's body disappeared…
before
the autopsy. How did I not know this? And who is in that urn on the mantel?"
 

"Sand from Tybee Island is in the urn. And you didn't know about the body because we kept it a secret. Paid a few people off. Brought the urn to the wake and no one ever asked any questions. Enough people saw your dad's body in the street and at the morgue."
 

I wasn't sure what I was feeling at that moment, other than a full body flush of emotion. I grabbed his upper arm. "Crow…what happened to it? His body."
 

"Your father needed it. He still has it. We weren't kidding when we said he's still alive. Now don't get upset, Amelia. Your mother knows this. I know this. She just didn't think you'd understand."
 

"She's right. I don't understand. So why don't you explain it to me?"

"Here?"
 

"Here is good. Now." I saw something small flutter around the black of his stetson but kept my gaze fixed on his wizened face.
 

Crow licked his lips. "We've never lied, Amelia. Your father
is
Jack Frost. But even a living personification of a concept or idea has to have a living body. Especially when they're half human, like your uncle was. And like your father. He died as a human and woke as Jack Frost. No one stole the body from the morgue. Jack got up and pretty much walked out of there. Just…no one saw him because he'd already started the transformation."
 

I let go of his arm and crossed my arms over my chest. I tapped my foot. "Mom said he came to her and showed her the bullet hole in his chest."
 

"Yes. If he were to become human, the bullet would really kill him. Because it's in his heart."
 

"So why not just take it out while he's Jack Frost?"
 

Crow opened his mouth, then closed it. He tilted his head to the side. "You'd have to ask him that."
 

"I can't see him."

"No," Crow said as he pointed at me. "You don't
want
to see him. And your mother doesn't want you to see him either, which is why she hasn't pushed you about him in the past twelve years."
 

"Now you lost me again."
 

"You know enough about the stories of Nature, and Santa, to understand how dangerous these incarnations are. Your father refused to become Jack Frost, but events moved to make it happen regardless. Your mother's just afraid that if you have contact with your father, Nature will become more aware of you. That she'll set events in motion to take you from her, just like your father. She confided those fears with your dad a long time ago."
 

I started to see pathways as he talked. Sentences that now connected with other sentences spoken at different times through my life. Ideas and concepts that wove like ice fractals as they created the perfect symmetry of truth. "Mom told dad to stay away from me, didn't she? That's why the messages stopped, the presents, the knowing he was there."
 

Crow's expression told me what I needed to know. I didn't care if he agreed with her or disagreed. She had no right. This was my life! This was my dad! "So Nature takes my dad from me…and now I learn my mother did it as well."
 

"Amy, you have to realize why. Her fears, the loss she'd already gone through. You are her last connection to Jack. Her only link now."
 

"And what about me, Crow? Huh? What about my feelings and my needs." My voice rose just a bit and I had to look away. I thought the excited voices to my right were onlookers commenting on our argument.
 

That is, until I took another look at the gathering groups of people and saw them looking up at what was coming down.
 

Snow.
 

It was light at first, and I recognized it as the little wisps of white fluff I'd seen against Crow's stetson. I'd never seen snow. Not in real life. And as the people around us grew more excited, so did I. People were emptying out of stores in the dimming light to watch the snow reflected in the street lamps.
 

"Is this you?" Crow said.
 

I shook my head. "No. I can't really create forms I'm not familiar with." I turned to him and saw the wonder in his expression, and a little bit of dread. "What's wrong?"
 

"I'm not sure yet. We should finish and get to the cabin." He held his hand out to me.
 

I hesitated to take it. What was it he feared? What was wrong with snow? "Crow…"
 

"Please, Amelia."
 

I took his hand and grabbed my things after he reminded me to put my coat back on. I did look a little odd as the only one without a coat as the snow started falling thicker and faster.
 

It stuck to the ground, the trees, the lamp posts, the benches—everything it touched. Locals and tourists alike were bubbling with excitement, as well as making a run on the grocery for milk and bread. We were lucky enough to beat the rush and when I saw Crow's SUV covered in snow I squealed with delight. Everyone was happy.
 

Except Crow.
 

•••

The cabin was left to mom in dad's will. Mom assumed dad had worried about his life as a cop and made his living will just after they started dating. The cabin was set far back from the road into the woods. Most cabins I'd seen when staying with friends were on what I called cabin farms, stacked so close together I could see in the living room of the one next door.
 

But not ours. Dad called it
Eanáir
, which in some old language meant January.
 

I felt most home in this place.

Mom kept pictures of her and dad on the mantel. Images of a life she shared before I was born.
 

The cabin was three stories, with a game room and large flatscreen down stairs for movies. There was a hot tub on the deck and a bench swing. The main floor had a fourteen foot ceiling of windows looking out at the Appalachians. A real wood burning fireplace warmed the room in front of a sofa and two reading chairs. There was a good size kitchen with counter and the master bedroom and bath behind it. The top floor was little more than a loft and bathroom. That's where my bedroom was. It had its own screened in deck which mom used to fret over when I was little, terrified I'd somehow osmose through the screen and wood and fall to my death.
 

I'd painted ice castles on the walls of my bedroom. Mom cut snowflakes out of tissue paper or cardboard and sprinkled them with white glitter and hung them from the ceiling like snow. Many of them still hung there. The glitter had long ago faded and the white was little more than a rainy day gray. Cobwebs covered the paper fractals.