Crown of Ice

by Victoria Gilbert

  I purse my lips. I’ve studied drawings of that university in Voss’s library—along with sketches of the ancient walled town where it resides—but I’ve never set foot in the city’s bustling streets. Nor am I likely to ever do so. Kai may believe he is trapped. I know I am.

  “Do you? Now that your father lies prostrate, like one dead, who’ll run the mill?”

  Kai turns his face away. “My mother and Gerda’s family, I suppose.”

  “Will they allow it, Kai?” I slip a little magic in my voice, just to draw his attention. “Will they actually let you go?”

  “I don’t know!” Kai swears and dashes into the shadows of the building.

  I’m afraid I’ve pushed too hard. That I’ve lost him. But he was merely climbing down the ladder from the loft. He steps out of the lower level of the mill and strides up to me, his dark eyes flashing.

  “I ask you again, who are you?” He makes a grab for my arm but jumps back when Luki bares his teeth and growls.

  “I’m the person who can provide a puzzle to test your mind to its limits.” I lay my hand on Luki’s head to calm him. “I can offer you a challenge that will absorb you, day and night, for months on end.”

  Kai’s face crumples. He looks like a broken little boy. “Can it make me forget? Can it take away memories I can’t live with? Can it mask the pain?”

  “I believe so.” I speak softly, with no magic lacing my voice. I no longer need it. I have triumphed. Kai Thorsen is mine.

  KAI TRAILS ME, SHUFFLING his boots through the deeper snow behind the mill. He stares at the sleigh for a moment before climbing in. Still clutching his notebook in his gloved hands, he appears dazed.

  I wait for Luki to leap in between Kai and me before I take up the reins. Reaching across the wolf’s back, I lay my hand on Kai’s arm. “I know you’re tired,” I say, wrapping my words about the boy like silken ropes. “Rest yourself while we travel. Sleep now.”

  Kai’s head bobs and droops. He drops his chin to his chest. I shoot a swift glance his way to make sure his eyes are closed before I urge the ponies to carry us into the stone-gray sky.

  My magic keeps Kai asleep until we land at the palace. Drawing up beside the stable doors, I touch his arm to wake him.

  “We’re here,” I say, shaking him slightly.

  He blinks and gazes about, then rubs his eyes and stares at me.

  “Where are we?”

  “At my palace.” I step from the sleigh and Luki bounds after me. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here, no matter how strange things appear.”

  I toss the reins to a waiting groom—a polar bear whose paws look like furred human hands. Kai blanches at the sight of the bear, but I simply take the boy by the arm and lead him to a set of iron-clad wooden doors that open upon the kitchens. Another bear, smaller and brown-furred, rushes forward to throw back the heavy doors, allowing us to stumble through.

  “Palace?” Kai’s voice breaks on the word. “Bears with hands?” He glances at me. “What are you?”

  I release his arm and step away. “I am the Snow Queen.”

  “There’s no such thing.” Kai falls back against a kitchen table, his fingers scrambling against the battered wood.

  “There is. She stands before you. Don’t you believe the evidence of your own eyes?”

  Kai grips the edge of the table until his knuckles whiten. “I believe in logic, in calculations, in equations.”

  “As do I.”

  “But this place, those creatures—surely this is some enchantment.”

  “It is, but reason still prevails. What do you think lies at the heart of magic, Kai, if not the perfection of logic?”

  He shakes his head and a lock of his dark hair falls into his eyes. “Why did you bring me here? What do you need from me, if you have such power?” He brushes the hair back and clutches at his skull, as if to contain his frantic thoughts.

  “I need your mind.” I cross to the counter where a reindeer haunch lies covered in burlap. “You must help me solve a puzzle.” I slide out a bone still bearing shreds of meat and toss it to Luki.

  “What sort of puzzle?” Kai’s fingers relax. This is something he understands.

  “One that will surely occupy your mind,” I reply. “Now, come with me, Kai Thorsen, and I’ll show you my challenge.”

  I stride from the kitchens, glancing back once or twice to ensure Kai’s trailing me. Luki, occupied with his bone, doesn’t follow. I’m careful to brightly illuminate all the walls as we traverse the icy corridors. It’s far too soon to introduce Kai to the wraiths.

  When I open the doors to the Great Hall I sense Kai’s right upon my heels. I cross to the mirror, throwing out my hands. “Here’s your puzzle. You’ll find no greater.”

  Kai wanders into the chamber, his eyes flitting from the vista revealed by the windows to the domed ceiling and the massive table. At last his gaze lights upon the mirror and he steps forward to stand beside me, staring into its reflective surface.

  “It’s broken.” Kai strokes the smooth surface of the glass.

  “Yes, but it can be restored.” I lay my fingers across his hand. “With your help.”

  My touch galvanizes him into action. He springs away, striding to the windows in the far wall. “I know nothing of mirrors.” He stands straight as a spear, his dark form silhouetted against the backdrop of my snow-clad kingdom.

  “You know mathematics. You can calculate and create equations to solve problems. These are the skills I need.”

  “And why would I assist you?” Kai turns. His eyes shine like those of our bears—dark, bright, and cold. “It appears you’ve put me under some enchantment and kidnapped me. Why should I help you with anything?”

  I lean back against the table, surveying his frigid face. I must calculate the odds this boy will be able to resist my magic long enough to destroy my hopes. Consider all the variables. Evaluate the possibilities. Find a logical means to persuade him to stay willingly, to aid me of his own free will. If I must hold him under an enchantment it will weaken me as well as him, and neither of us will be able to employ our minds to their full potential.

  “This mirror,” I say slowly, as an idea blossoms in my mind, “holds a powerful enchantment. Restored, it can grant great magic to my master, Mael Voss. It’s he who set me to this task, several years ago. But I’ve learned”—I allow my fingers to glide across the mirror’s surface—“of its other power.”

  “Yes,” says Kai, interested, I suspect, in spite of himself. “What is that?”

  The lie slips easily off my tongue. “It can restore health to the ailing, even those that lie near death.”

  Kai doesn’t move, or blink, but I know by his breathing that I’ve ensnared him.

  “How’s that possible?” He takes two steps toward me.

  “It holds very old, very great magic.” This, of course, is true.

  Kai closes his eyes for a moment. He mouths numbers, calculating something in his head. “If I help you reassemble the mirror you must promise me one thing.”

  “Yes, what is that?” I know what it is, but the game must be played.

  “After your master achieves whatever it is he desires, you must grant me use of the mirror.” Kai takes a deep breath and fixes his dark eyes upon my face. “You must promise.”

  “Very well, I promise. But what use do you have, Kai Thorsen, for a magic mirror?”

  “The only use that would make me help you with anything. I will heal my father. I will bring him back to a full, healthy life.”

  The trap springs shut, my lie the bait. “Of course,” I reply lightly. “You and I will restore the mirror, and you’ll restore your father to your family. A logical trade.”

  Kai crosses to the table and walks its perimeter, examining every inch of Voss’s looking glass. He lifts one shard from the table and stares at it for a moment. “I assume, to have gotten this far, you’ve written some equations?” He waves the shard at me.

  “Yes, I’ve a notebo
ok full.”

  “Show me.” He lays down the shard.

  “Wouldn’t you like something to eat first?” I think of our recent journey and the lateness of the hour.

  “No.” Kai’s voice is as cold as the walls of my palace. “We’ve work to do.”

  I HAVE TO FORCE KAI to rest, to spend any time in the chambers I’ve had the servants arrange for him. His every thought is the mirror. He sits huddled under the windows of the Great Hall, writing equations in his leather-bound notebook.

  “You must eat,” I say, kneeling before him. “You’re no use to me, or your father, dead.”

  “Did you figure this one already?” He thrusts the notebook under my nose.

  I sigh and take the book from his hands, scanning his new equation. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  Kai swears and bangs his head against the stones behind him. “This is impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible. Not when two minds like ours are involved.” I stare at the equation once more. “If you were to change this variable ... ” I grab the pencil Kai hands me and scribble another figure onto the paper. “See here—it changes everything.”

  Kai yanks the notebook from my fingers and eagerly scans the page. “Yes, that’s it.” He looks into my eyes, his face alight.

  “I knew you’d see it.” I sit back on my heels when I realize Kai’s expression has changed.

  “You.” His dark eyes bore into me. “I remember you. The girl in the church. The only one who could ever calculate as well as me.”

  “I’m the Snow Queen.” I rise swiftly to my feet.

  Kai stands to face me. “Thyra, that was your name. Thyra Winther.”

  I draw myself up to my full height. “I am the Snow Queen. You’ve experienced my power.”

  “You’re that girl. A girl no different than any other in our village. Well, except for the calculating part.” A faint smile tugs at the corners of Kai’s mouth.

  “I was that girl.” I realize I might as well admit the truth, this once. “But the years, and Voss’s magic, have changed me. Don’t think I’m simply a human girl you can ignore, Kai Thorsen.”

  The boy whose mind I need, whose equations might save me from an eternity of torment, smiles more broadly. “I doubt it’s possible to ignore you, Thyra Winther. Snow Queen or not.”

  “You need to eat,” I say, turning on my heel. “If you’ll follow me to the kitchens, I’ll see what I can find.”

  Kai strides forward until he’s by my side. “The wolf pup—he’s your pet now, isn’t he?”

  “Pet?” I walk faster. “I don’t have pets. Luki is useful as a protector, nothing more.”

  “Really? Is that why he sleeps in your rooms? And follows you everywhere?”

  “Whatever Luki does,” I say, remembering to illuminate the walls when I hear a faint wail echoing through the corridor, “he does of his own free will.”

  “As will I,” says Kai.

  Chapter Six: Missing Pieces

  IT’S ODD, LIVING WITH another human being again.

  I constantly encounter Kai in passageways or the kitchens as well as in the Great Hall. He prowls the icy corridors as I once did, obviously determined to catalog every inch of the palace. He’s locating escape routes, I think, and concern flashes in my brain. But then I see him huddled over his calculations, his brow furrowed in concentration, and I remember he wants to reassemble the mirror as desperately as I do.

  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.”

  Kai shrugs. “Then he lied. 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 and 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, all the years 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 am 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 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 gentle 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 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.” Kai 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, like 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 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 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.