Of Sorcery and Snow (30 page)

In my dreams that night, I trudged across a frozen lake, hip-deep in snow, head bent against the wind. I was searching for Miriam, except Miriam didn't look like Miriam. In the dream, I knew she had my father's chin dimple and Brie's bright red hair.

Then the frozen lake folded up into a white hallway.

I turned a corner, and I wasn't searching for Miriam anymore. There was the black door, with its ancient cracked wood and the scrolling
S
underneath the doorknob. I was exhausted right down to my bones, the kind of tired I'd never been before traveling to a place as cold as the Arctic Circle. I knew I had to go through the door, and I fought the fear that kept me from opening it.

The fate of the world depended on what was on the other side, but I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about the others, who had sacrificed so much to get me this far. I was thinking of how I owed it to
them
.

So my morning obviously didn't get off to a great start.

I wasn't the only one. After we saddled up the reindeer, recharged our heating spells, and moved out, Lena recounted the dragon scales we had left, shuffling them in her hands as smoothly as a stack of cards. I knew something was bothering Chase,
because he only ate a tiny bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. Even Forrel was jumpy—once, across a river of melt water, we spotted a white-furred, four-footed figure with pointy ears and a great fluffy tail. The dwarf cocked his spear back, taking careful aim, but the princess threw out an arm.

“Only a fox,” she said as it pounced away. “Much too small for a wolf.”

Hadriane apparently had taken it upon herself to keep Miriam's spirit alive. She started off the morning ride with a chipper “Let us go!” She kept saying stuff like, “Just beyond that cove, we'll see it.” Then, when that cove was behind us, “Just beyond that rise.”

Hours later I was sure that if she pointed at some other unspecial feature of this bleak landscape, I would scream.

This quest
was
different from the others—Rapunzel had been right. Up the beanstalk and on Atlantis, we'd been in a lot of danger, but we'd
chosen
this journey.
We'd
decided to rescue the kids.

No.
To go or not to go is a decision. It rests on one person, and one person only,
Rapunzel had said.

That person was me. I'd talked everyone into coming, even the dwarf princess.

I hadn't saved the kidnapped kids. I'd only thrown our lives in with theirs.

Mom was waiting with my note, waiting for me to come home. But I would never come back, and she would
never
know what happened to me.

That afternoon Lena passed out a pair of dragon scales to each of us and said, “That's it. This is the last of them. If we use any more, we won't have enough for a temporary-transport spell.”

“Can you do a scrying spell instead?” Chase had apparently been brainstorming during the ride. “To see how far away we are from the palace?”

Lena shook her head. “I didn't bring any of the ingredients.”

“Could we take a sample from
here
?” Chase asked. “Sneak back into EAS, grab more supplies, and come right back?”

“No,” said Lena. “Ice won't work as a sample. Just dirt.”

So we could stay here and freeze, or use a temporary-transport spell that may leave half of us behind, or plop us down somewhere in between here and EAS.

Forrel held up his dragon scales. “How long will these last?”

“Three hours, I think,” Lena said.

“And how long do you need to set up this spell?” Forrel said.

“Fifteen minutes,” replied Lena. “Ten for the tile's servants to build a snow hut, and five for me to set up the spell in its doorway.”

“Then we still have two hours or so.” Hadriane pointed to a plateau of ice standing above the rest. “There! That's where we'll find it.”

I didn't scream, but I did snort a little. When the reindeer reached the ridge, a lot of white stretched out ahead, with a big dark bay scooped out of it.

“Nothing?” Lena said, drooping. I guess Hadriane's attitude was getting to her too.

“No,” said Forrel, his voice suddenly heavy with relief.

“Yeah. Right there.” Grinning, Chase pointed to the shore.

Hadriane whooped and urged her mount down the slope. Then I spotted it—a blue-gray square about as big as my thumbnail, so close in color to the water beside it that it had completely blended in.

Relief flooded me, but I didn't want to trust it. “That's way too small to be the Snow Queen's palace.”

“It doesn't matter,” Lena said happily, her map flapping as the reindeer galloped forward. “They'll at least be able to tell us where we are.”

“If someone actually lives there,” Forrel pointed out.

But he didn't need to worry. Riding closer, we could see the round stones in the house's walls, the gray door and shutters, the smoke puffing from the chimney, the white picket fence, and the woman kneeling in the yard, wearing a red cloak.

She stood when she saw us. Her face was unlined, with smooth round cheeks and black eyes, but her hair had gone completely white. It hung loose and straight all the way to her ankles.

Tucked under her arm was a wicker basket with a small shovel in it, dusted with snow. I kind of couldn't believe she was actually gardening, but when I looked around her yard, I noticed a leafless tree, its forking branches gilded with ice. Frost-covered vines snuck up the pillars on each side of the front door, and short-stemmed lilies grew beside the fence.

They'd been bleached of all color, except for the one at the woman's feet. She'd probably just finished planting that one. It was turquoise blue near the center, framed with paler petals.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say that flower was looking at us. Actually, all the lilies seemed to be bobbing their petal-framed heads in our direction. Which made sense. A garden this close to the North Pole definitely had to be magical.

“Hi! We're a little lost,” said Lena, like this woman wasn't our very best chance of surviving our quest. “Would you mind pointing out where we are?”

The woman waved a hand. I thought it was some sort of strange sign language until Lena glanced down at her map. “Oh! That's perfect! Thank you so much!”

A new landmark had appeared in the upper right-hand corner, a cottage exactly like the one in front of us. It was labeled
ARICA'S HOUSE
.

“We passed it,” Lena explained, showing the others. “We went too far west.”

It was all going to be okay. Lena and I grinned at each other.

Then I remembered where I'd heard of Arica before. “Oh! You're the sorceress with the fourth comb! Rapunzel's friend!” I had no idea how they knew each other, unless they'd met in a club for people with young faces and old-lady hair.

“Yes. You are Rory Landon. I've been waiting for you.” Arica pointed at the front door. Her whole arm was black, metal, and bare up to the shoulder. Pretty easy to guess what body part had been replaced to make her a sorceress. “Come inside.”

I slipped off my reindeer and stepped through the front gate. Strange whispers hung over the garden. I didn't realize that it was coming from the flowers until I got close to the new one with the blue center.

It turned to me. “Won.”

Okay, so the weird flowers talked too.

“Weave.” It flapped its side petals, like it was annoyed at me for not responding. “Wisten!”

They talked nonsense apparently, but hey, they still talked.

“Come,” said the sorceress again.

Chase shook his head at me, and Lena said, “Um . . .” They obviously couldn't believe I was holding up the quest for this.

“You have three combs. You really need a fourth as well?” Now Hadriane
really
reminded me of Miriam. Forrel just grabbed my mount's reins before it could run off.

“Ten minutes,” I said, trotting up the steps as the sorceress opened the door. As soon as I was inside, Arica slammed it. Her smile was so wide that I could see half her teeth were metal too.

rica was obviously a
lot
creepier than Rapunzel, and I tried really hard to keep her from seeing how much she freaked me out.

Unfortunately, her house didn't exactly inspire warm fuzzy feelings either.

The gray floorboards were warped with age. Long strips of ancient wallpaper rippled along the walls, reminding me of used bandages. The doors hung loose and crooked in their hinges. Some of the steps in the stairwell had rotted away, leaving gaping dark holes.

“Nice high ceilings!” Then I glanced up and noticed the cobwebs attached to the dusty chandelier. Eww. I didn't even think spiders could
live
in this cold.

I'm pretty sure Arica could tell I was just trying to be nice. “Come with me.”

She walked down a dim hall. Her feet fell heavily with weird clicks. They must have been metal too. I tried not to imagine what had happened during her Tale to make her lose so many limbs.

Something stepped out of the shadowy place under the stairs and followed us. I jumped back, but it was just a woman exactly Arica's height, with straight white hair the exact same length.

“Oh, hello,” I said, but she didn't respond. When we stepped into the light, I could see why—her face was wooden, her carved eyes fixed, the hinges around her mouth a little bit rusty. A puppet without strings, moved with magic. I'd seen only one before, and considering that it had tried to kill everyone at EAS last year, I wasn't a huge fan. “Um, the Snow Queen had one of those. . . .”

“Yes, Solange stole the design from me.” Arica sounded kind of bitter.

Little warning bells went off in my head, but then a bigger dummy crawled out of the next room. It had a long serpentlike tail, four clawed feet, and lots of sharp teeth, but what really got my attention was its shiny, green-gold hide.

“Whoa, are those real dragon scales?” I asked, walking backward to get a better look.

“Yes,” said Arica.

Jackpot. Well, kind of—I just had to figure out how to convince the sorceress to let us borrow some of the scales. That would get the others off my back. We could even replace them after we returned to EAS. I tried to figure out how many we needed.

The next room wasn't as empty or colorless as the rest of the house. Wicker birdcages hung from the ceiling on bright ribbons. Something rustled inside the nearest one.

Bright fuchsia lily petals formed a body, a head, and two wings over stem legs with tiny green claws. It cocked its head at me. Its eye looked all polleny, like the inside of the flower.

“Wow,” I said. The two puppets shuffled over to me, standing on each side. “Did you make these yourself?”

Before the sorceress could answer, the fuchsia flower-bird chirped, “Run!”

Automatically I reached for my sword, but the woman-shaped
puppet snatched my right wrist. A click came from the dragon's head as its fangs disappeared into its wooden gums, and then its jaws nabbed my left arm, latching on so hard I knew it could snap my wrist in a second.