The Frozen Witch Book One (25 page)

Hank had called me a frozen witch. And as
soon as he’d said the words, they’d had such an effect on me that I
knew they couldn’t be a lie. But what the hell was a frozen witch?
And how was it different from the other practitioners I’d already
met?

From what I’d seen of Megan and what I’d
heard about her, it was clear she was one of the most powerful
witches under Vali’s command. Yet it was equally clear that I had
to be powerful, too, otherwise Vali wouldn’t have taken me tonight
and Hank wouldn’t be showing so much interest in me.

But what could I do? I already knew the
answer to that. I could freeze things. If last night was anything
to go by, as soon as I took these locks off, ice would spread from
my touch and cover the entire room. And if anyone was in here with
me, they’d be frozen, too.

Blinking hard, I suddenly realized it had
something to do with that kernel of ice that always felt lodged in
my sternum. That fragment of cold that sat just above my heart,
stealing away my attention whenever I was terrified. More than
anything, I was scared of it. It had been growing for the last
couple of months, or maybe it had always been there. If I cast my
mind back, I’d felt it as a kid, hadn’t I? This sense of cold that
always surrounded me, a sense of cold that terrified me more than
anything else. And one that even now I wanted to push back. But
push it back, and I’d be rejecting my magic, wouldn’t I?

That thought – it was so powerful, I
suddenly stilled. I imagined the room stilled with me. There
must’ve been a brisk breeze pushing in from under the door, as the
thick curtains around the windows were fluttering. Yet right now
they stopped, almost as if they were waiting to find out what I
would do next.

What I did next was close my eyes. Even
though I had always tried to push away that fragment of ice, even
though I’d always tried to tell myself it was nothing more than
nerves, for the first time I allowed my curiosity to flare. I
pushed my attention into it, using every ounce of courage I’d
gathered over the past several days not to turn away. The more I
faced it, the more it grew until it pulsed like a growing
blizzard.

My lips tugged apart. “Come on, you can do
this. You’re my magic, aren’t you? Please, I need your help.” I
talked to it as if that growing storm were a person, as if it were
somehow intelligent.

I was an independent soul. I liked to do
everything for myself. My grandmother had chided me that I never
took instruction. I never sought assistance, even when I needed it
most.

Well right now, in my last moment, I reached
out to that cold, begging it to open up to me.

It did. Slow at first, draining through my
body like trickling ice melt. Though it should have frozen me
solid, it did the exact opposite. I felt more alive than ever.

I succumbed to it. Charges of magic
suddenly leapt up from my skin, sending a thrill of excitement
chasing down my back. The more the sensation grew, the more I gave
into it, the more my power returned.

With a resounding crack, the chains fell
from my wrists, throat, and ankles. And the locks around my wrists?
I felt something fizzle and click, and they fell to the floor with
a resonant thump.

The symbols returned, blazing over my skin
brighter than they ever had before. I snapped my eyes open in time
to see their light spread forth like wildfire.

It rushed out of me. The cold. But it was
different this time. I wasn’t afraid of it. Instead, I leaned
forward and embraced it with both arms.

Ice spread out from my body, crackling as it
covered the floors and spread up the walls. In a snapped second, my
breath turned to mist as if I’d been plunged into the coldest,
darkest winter.

The ice grew so quickly, that in a flash,
it covered everything. The brown, tan floorboards were suddenly
white-blue, even the velvet curtains looked like nothing more than
molded snow.

With my breath still buffeting against me, I
experimentally tugged my ropes. With a crack, they broke apart,
falling into icicles and dashing at my feet.

I stood, slowly, anchoring myself on the
chair for balance. I didn’t need to, though. Just as had happened
last night, I couldn’t seem to slip on the ice, even though it
covered everything and looked as treacherous as a frozen-over
lake.

I wasn’t cold, either. I was in a backless
satin dress, and it might as well have been midsummer. Because,
hey, it was midsummer – just not in this room anymore.

Warily, I knelt down and picked up my broken
bangles. I clicked them back over my wrists, even though I knew
full well they wouldn’t work anymore. Maybe they’d buy me some
time. Plus, I doubted Vali would be happy if I lost them.

I shifted towards the door. Placing a hand
on the iced-over handle, I took a steeling breath as the door
opened a crack. When Hank’s goons didn’t suddenly tackle me to the
ground, I took a hesitant step into the abandoned
corridor.

With every step I took, ice spread out from
my feet, covering everything, marching up the walls and cracking
the windows.

The symbols and light continued to dance
across my skin, so much magic charging across my body, it caught
the tips of my hair as if they were being chased around by a sudden
wind.

I would have looked like a fearsome sight.
A fact that was proven as one of the thick-necked goons from
earlier suddenly came racing down the corridor. He came to a
skidding stop, eyes bulging from his skull as he stared at
me.

His moment of surprise couldn’t last. With a
snapped, precise movement, he brought a gun up from the holster
around his hip. He fired.

I had a moment to jerk back, fear pulsing
through me, but the magic bullet couldn’t reach me. It stopped
several inches from my face, and I watched as ice covered it. The
bullet fell to the floor and shattered into 1000 pieces.

I heard the guy bellow with rage. He fired
off several more rounds. They too could not reach me. They
literally froze before me.

When that didn’t work, he brought his left
hand up. I made out a blue, blazing symbol on his wrist. Licks of
flame powered across it as he twisted his hand in a circle. A
magical disc appeared in front of him, and he selected a weapon. A
heavyset sword suddenly grew in his palm.

He thrust forward with no warning and no
chance of reprieve.

I didn’t even have to double back. As soon
as he came too close, he slipped on the ice. It began to grow over
him.

He jerked to the side, shoulder ramming into
the wall, the entire room shaking. He sneered, swiping at the ice
with his sword, but there was nothing he could do. It grew up him,
quickly covering his feet then his legs, soon reaching his torso.
As it did, he appeared to lose his fight. With a shaking step, he
fell to one knee then the other, the sword slamming into the icy
floor beside him.

I didn’t want to kill the guy.

Last night I’d had no control over my power
as it had charged up John Lambert’s body. Now, I tried to
concentrate. I squeezed my eyes half shut, the skin around them
taut with tension.

“Don’t… don’t kill him,” I
begged.

I could feel my power. It was a storm in my
chest. Pure, pure chaos. I had about as much chance of controlling
it as you did of catching a cloud in your hands.

But I wasn’t willing to give up. Too much
was at stake. If I couldn’t control my abilities, not only would I
kill this man, but my magic would probably go on to freeze this
entire building, maybe even the city. I would have no chance of
saving Franklin, either.

So I concentrated – I concentrated with
everything I had, begging myself to find a way.

I’d never been more focused in that moment,
never more driven.

The man started to gag, ice covering his
throat and marching across his stiff, white-blue lips.

…
My chaotic magic
couldn’t be controlled, but maybe it could be directed.

I suddenly pulled away from the man. Not
just physically, mentally. I withdrew my attention from him,
concentrating on my hands, instead.

It took half a second, but it worked. Just
before the man took his last, icy breath, he started to thaw. The
apparently unstoppable ice finally receded.

I took a shaky, relieved breath. I did not,
however, allow my attention to lock on the man for too long, just
long enough to ensure his skin was returning to a healthy pink.

I pushed on. I had no idea where to find
Hank Chaplain, but I figured – rightly – that it wouldn’t take him
long to find me.

Indeed, I didn’t even reach the end of the
corridor before I heard footfall. Frantic, heavy, it came to a
skidding stop behind me.

I turned. The magic playing over my body now
caught the ends of my hair, sending every strand billowing around
my head like smoke. My whole body glowed – every centimeter of my
skin aglow with those ancient runes.

Though my encroaching ice no longer spread
throughout the hallway uncontrollably, it remained concentrated
around my body. The floor beneath me was so thick with frost, it
looked as if it had been carved from diamond.

I heard someone swear.

Two of Chaplain’s men came to screeching
stops along the opposite end of the corridor. Or, at least they
tried to. As soon as their feet struck my left-over frost, they
fell, skidding onto their backsides.

They’d had guns in their hands, but they
couldn’t keep hold of them as they flailed on the slippery floor.
As soon as the guns struck the ice, they frosted over. A second
later, they cracked, shattering like a sheet of glass thrown on the
ground.

The more I learnt to direct my magic, the
brighter that light glowed along my skin.

I continued down the corridor, passing the
two men as they lay spread-eagled on the floor. At first they tried
to jump to their feet, but as I concentrated on their shoes, ice
grew up and covered them, locking the men to the spot.

I walked right past them, balance
perfect.

I made it all the way down the corridor,
following the flow of bad guys who uselessly threw themselves
towards me. No matter what kind of weapon they used, they couldn’t
touch me. A few were quick enough and powerful enough to produce
flaming magical swords – and yet they could never get close enough
to use them. Not their bullets, not their blasts of magic – nothing
could touch me.

Things became a blur of cold, of light, of
ice. And yet, though it would have been so easy to succumb to the
chaos at the center of my power, I kept my focus.

Finally, I found Franklin.

I found Chaplain, too.

I came across a
ball
room. It
wasn’t the function room from before – it was grander than that. It
was also empty except for two people: Franklin and Hank.

I still didn’t understand how Vali worked.
In my head, I’d convinced myself Chaplain had lied – that he would
be ultimately unable to kill Franklin. Yet as I strode into the
room, entering from above along a split, sweeping staircase that
descended into the ballroom, I spied Franklin. He wasn’t tied to a
chair like I’d been. Nor was he tied down at all, in fact. At least
not by any visible ropes. Instead, he was down on one hand and
knee, head bowed low between his shoulders as if his body were
under great strain. Beneath him, a golden circle of light
flickered. It sparked, suddenly becoming brighter as he saw
me.

Our eyes met from far across the room.

Hank swore then shifted towards me, shoes
skidding.

I was still wearing my bangles – I’d kept
them on in the misguided hope they might buy me some time. I’d
forgotten that anyone with a functioning set of eyes would be able
to see my magic – it played across my skin and spread out from my
every touch.

As Hank shoved towards me, he brought his
hands up, suddenly spreading his fingers wide, his shirt sleeves
rumpling as a wave of power burst up his arms.

He incanted something under his breath.

A second before it happened, I felt it –
something gathering within my bangles. Though they weren’t part of
me, they felt like an extension of my power. And right now that
power was being forced back.

I heard something clicking deep within the
bangles, almost like they were clock mechanisms being wound up.

“Take them off,” Vali bellowed. Suddenly
that gold ring of light beneath him grew until it looked like a
flare. But just as soon, it dwindled.

The gold ring was rimmed by the strangest
runes I’d ever seen. They didn’t just look ancient – they exuded
age like it was a scent.

Even as Hank threw himself at me, I
realized that gold ring had to be the possession – the doorway that
allowed the god of revenge into Franklin Saunders. Hank was
obviously trying to remove it. Just as he obviously wanted to lock
me back within the hold of my bangles.

Hank reached the base of the stairs and
threw himself up them, two at a time.

I suddenly wrenched my attention off
Franklin, locking it on my bangles. Whereas seconds ago they’d been
loose, now they closed tighter around my wrists, as if they were
about to squeeze through the flesh and cut through my
bone.

I jolted, concentrating on my bangles with
every grain of power I had.

But Hank was faster. Whatever incantation he
kept chanting had a dampening effect on me. Not just my power, but
my mind. My thoughts were starting to trail off….

“Fight him, Lily-white,” Vali bellowed.
Despite the fact Franklin’s body looked to be under considerable
strain, Vali’s voice boomed out with all the authority and power of
a true god.