Stealing Snow (12 page)

Following the sound, I showed myself into the greenhouse, which rivaled the house in its splendor. The flowers weren’t like anything I’d ever seen. The pretty little tulips sprinkled across
the grounds of Whittaker didn’t hold a candle to these plants. The buds were enormous. And the color was an iridescent lavender. I had never seen a flower shimmer before.

There was a ton of food growing in the greenhouse, too. Neat rows of leafy greens and carrots and weird periwinkle fruit were ready to be picked.

I hoisted myself against a gate made of ice.

Continuing on to a clearing in the wood, I heard the sound again. There was another dome that looked identical to the greenhouse.

I could hear the animals before I could see them. There were two of everything. It was an underground menagerie.

The first creature I saw was a penguin with pale-pink wings. It wobbled around in its pastel tuxedo until it bumped into another one dressed in ecru. Another with blue wings joined in, making it a trio.

There were animals I was familiar with and animals I’d never seen before. There were sheep and cows and goats alongside penguins and polar bears separated by partitions made of ice. And at the very back of the menagerie, there was a pale-gray lion, the source of the roaring that had lured me there. The roof was a thin layer of ice through which the sun filtered in.

Maybe the cage inside the house was just for one of these creatures.

I wondered if the animals had always been different here. Or if these animals were here because they were different.

The ecru penguin opened its mouth, revealing a set of sharp teeth that did not belong.

I laughed seeing the adorable creature’s weird adaptation. But the sound I made drew the attention of the other animals in their ice cages. They began to stir—clawing and biting and trying to get to me. The penguins advanced, and I took a step back, confident that the snow cages would hold and that I could close the door on the little fanged wobbly bird that Frankenstein-walked toward me, flapping its beige wings.

But beyond the penguins I saw something even more disconcerting. The top of each snow wall was suddenly covered in vultures. It was like that old Hitchcock movie that Vern made me watch, in which hundreds of birds descended on a town at once. Only these birds were going to descend on me.

I began to back out, but it was too late. The birds took flight with me in their sights. A black cloud of feathers and pointy beaks filled my vision.

The ice roof shook.

I shielded my face with my arms, then turned to run.

Gerde’s singsongy voice broke out.

“Behave,” she ordered, and the cloud of black parted.

The birds returned to their former perches. As their wings ruffled back into place, their caws died down into soft coos.

Gerde moved through the beasts that now were as tame as house pets.

“They don’t always love new people,” she said in apology.

I allowed myself to exhale. I felt my worry settle a few seconds behind the birds. I could have hugged Gerde. I was so glad to see her.

As we walked through, a vulture cocked its head and squawked
at me as if to ask what I was staring at. Gerde whistled back at it, and it landed on her shoulder.

“Good girl, Zion,” Gerde began sheepishly.

Zion made a sharp clucking noise, to which Gerde responded with a nod. She looked up at me as if remembering I was there.

“I know talking to birds makes me a little…”

“Nuts?” I wanted to tell her that where I came from people did much, much more outlandish things. “I think you just saved my life.”

Gerde looked away from the vulture perched on her shoulder and back at me quizzically. I couldn’t tell if she knew about my escape from the River Witch, but even if she did, she didn’t ask about it.

“Kai built this for me,” Gerde explained as we walked through the zoo. “We call it the Keep. I’ve always had a way with plants and animals.”

“I’ve never had much of a way with anything or anyone. Except maybe a pencil,” I countered.

And Bale.

“You draw? I bet Kai would lend you some of his supplies. He’ll be thrilled. I can barely draw a stick figure.”

My fingers twitched at the thought of a pencil. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to draw again. Everything I’d drawn had come true. What would I draw next?

Things were already so insane. I did not really want to see anything else come to life from my pages.

“I’m okay. Maybe later.”

She nodded as we made our way through the animals. They all made happy noises in her presence.

“Please don’t tell anyone about the Keep.”

I wasn’t quite sure if she and Kai really understood what a secret was. Having a hidden menagerie didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I assured her. “Who would I tell?”

Gerde clapped her hands together, pleased, but a flash of worry crossed her small face at the idea of my talking to other people. I was a stray she’d taken in. And like with her animal pets, she half wanted me not to remember where I belonged so she could keep me.

“Why is it a secret? Wouldn’t people want to preserve all this?”

“Resources are limited. But because of what I can do, I can sustain them. Some would disagree with me for keeping them in the first place. They would think it was an indulgence in a time when we are not allowed many.”

I looked at her closely. I could tell she loved these creatures more than she loved humans—except maybe Kai.

I wondered again about their relationship.

“You and Kai? What are you to each other?”

“We are like brother and sister,” Gerde said, petting a polka-dotted pig.

My brain stuck on “like.” The way she said the word bothered me.

“So you don’t have the same parents?” I asked for clarification.

She shrugged.

“We were raised in the same home. But when winter first fell, things were chaotic. Mothers were separated from their children. Other mothers took them in. Even now, it still happens. There are a lot of orphaned kids in Algid.”

“So you don’t know for sure if you’re brother and sister?”

“I just know he is my family. Now, do you want to help me feed something?” Gerde asked, putting an end to the topic.

I nodded and we moved on.

“I know this is going to sound odd. When I first got to Algid by the River, I was attacked by giant wolves. Only, they weren’t made of flesh and bone…”

“Oh, the Snow Wolves.” Gerde raised an eyebrow, her interest piquing even further. “Most people who meet the Snow Beasts don’t live to tell the tale.”

“What do you mean? What about you? I saw what you did with the birds just now … but does that mean … Can you control the Snow Beasts, too? And wait, SNOW BEASTS? There are more than just the wolves?”

Gerde nodded.

“There are Snow Lions, Tigers, and Bears … even insects. Snow Bees can sting a person to death in minutes…”

I shuddered at the thought as Gerde continued, clearly marveling at the Snow Beasts’ prowess.

“Basically anything and everything King Lazar can dream up. They are not alive—not in the way my animals are. I don’t know exactly how he does it, but they still move and breathe and obey.”

“Could you survive them? Can you control them with your gift?” I asked again.

Gerde explained, “I can touch something in animals that reaches back to me. But in the Snow Beasts, that part is missing in each and every one of them. But maybe you can fight them with yours.”

She still believed in my gift and in the prophecy. I didn’t have any interest in going there again.

“I don’t know about that. What about people? Can you reach people the same way?”

“To be honest, I don’t always connect to people.”

“That makes two of us.” I reached down to pet a lamb. The soft wool gave me comfort. Bale was my best friend before he was more. I remembered a time when Bale caught me drawing him. We were twelve years old. I didn’t let him see the drawing at first. Because it didn’t do him justice. Somehow I’d captured the lines of him, but not the spirit.

“This is how you see me?” he’d asked.

“It’s terrible. It doesn’t capture you. It doesn’t have your humor. Your heart … Your…”

He leaned in as if waiting for more compliments.

“You little …” I chose my favorite expletives and jumped on top of him, pummeling him.

He put up his hands. “I give up.”

I relaxed my grip.

A second later, he flipped me over and pinned me down. We were suddenly out of breath and suddenly aware of how close we were. His eyes broke with mine and looked at my lips and back again. He didn’t move, though. Like he was waiting for
permission. And I didn’t move because I didn’t want to be asked. I wanted to be kissed like Kayla Blue on
The End of Almost
. She was never asked.

“You’re getting a little old for wrestling …,” Vern’s voice had cut through, breaking the moment.

Bale rolled off me. “Vern, you could stop clocks with that timing of yours,” he said, hopping to his feet.

The memory stung a little.

“Now we have each other!” Gerde singsonged, bringing me back to the present.

I smiled but didn’t agree or disagree with her. Instead I pointed to something pink through the ice walls and asked, “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s the best part,” she said excitedly. I quickly kept within a step of her as we made our way through the animals and back outside through the menagerie.

I gasped when I saw rows upon rows of pink wheat growing in snow.

“Is it magic?”

She shrugged. “It’s botany. It’s taken me months, but finally it took root.”

As we wound our way through the pink wheat plants back to the house, I realized that this was the thing that Gerde wanted me to keep secret.

If the King found out about her magic with plants, his iron-clad grip on Algid’s frozen, barren land would lessen forever.

On the way out, Gerde touched one of the flowers’ buds. It responded like she was the sun. And maybe she was.

“You showed her the Keep? Unbelievable.” Kai stepped in line with us a bit later, looking less than thrilled to see me. I was guessing that he hoped I’d run away in the night.

“She found it. And who is she going to tell, anyway?” Gerde countered, using my words against Kai.

I shrugged and smiled at Kai, knowing that it would annoy him. I pretended that it didn’t bother me when he behaved exactly as I now expected. Rude. Possibly a little cruel. The single moment in the house when he held my hand was the exception.

He scowled. This was who he chose to be. I could do the same.

“She’s only here because I stopped her from escaping,” Kai said.

Gerde looked struck. She had not known after all. Or if she had, she did not want confirmation.

“He’s right. I’m only staying for the moment. I need to go out there and find my friend,” I said, bracing myself for whatever was out there in the snow that stood between me and Bale.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to stay for now. And if anyone can help you figure it out, it’s the River Witch,” Gerde responded, looping an arm through mine. “Kai, let’s not quarrel. She likes the cube. She thinks it’s genius,” Gerde said, apparently trying to bridge the gap between us even though clearly he did not want it to close.

Kai’s blue eyes flickered briefly at the compliment before darkening again. He was proud of what he’d created. And it made me think of the last sixteen years that I had wasted. He had a true gift, and I was barely educated. My collection of knowledge was a hodgepodge at best from television and the set of encyclopedias that I’d read from
A
to
Z
in the Whittaker library.

“What’s really genius is that map of Algid on your arm.” Kai motioned to my left forearm.

“What?” I pulled my sleeve down self-consciously. He was pointing to my scars.

“You have a map of Algid on your body? How did I not notice?” Gerde clapped her hands excitedly.

“I don’t,” I said. “It’s scar tissue.”

Kai shook his head. “That’s Algid. But if you don’t want to believe me, take a look yourself.” He walked out of the room and returned a few seconds later with a map.