Frostbitten Fairy Tales

by Melanie Karsak

  Speeding quickly down the ice, I soon reached the Ice House. I pulled the wagon up to the tent.

  Marve, Hobbs, and Amy were rushing from the back of the theatre to the tents, their arms loaded, when I arrived.

  “Oh, Elyse. Thank god,” Marve exclaimed when he saw me.

  “I’m so sorry. I just heard. I came as quick as I could,” I said. I eyed the others. They were all still dressed in costume. “Did they stop you mid-performance?”

  Marve nodded. “Titania’s bower scene. And we really had the crowd too. But come. Quickly. We must load everything that’s left at once and get off the ice. They said the first few ships nearest the bridge have already started to drift, some of the vendors’ tents went under the ice.”

  And then, as if on cue, we heard a loud crack in the ice in the distance. The frozen river under our feet seemed to lurch.

  The four of us exchanged glances. They headed toward the wagon while I rushed into the tent.

  “The wagon is here. Everyone. Quickly,” I called.

  Upon hearing my voice, Lizzie and Robert ran toward the front of the tent.

  “Elyse,” Lizzie said, dropping the bundle of costumes she was holding. She pulled me into an embrace. “Are you all right? Did everything go as planned?”

  “Yes, yes. Thank you, both. Kai is safe. Now, we must hurry.”

  They nodded.

  Lizzie squeezed my arms, bent to pick up her bundle, then rushed toward the wagon. I headed into the back, passing Hannah and Skippy as they rushed out with a trunk. After them, James and Josiah toted mirrors toward the wagon.

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “In the very back, the last of Marion’s old wardrobe,” Josiah said.

  Taking a lantern, I headed toward the back of the tent.

  There, I found the last trunk of clothes. It was open. The elaborate costumes Marion had worn lay spilled in the straw. I righted the chest then stuffed the costumes back inside.

  I shivered as a hard wind kicked open the back flap of the tent. The chilled air swirled around me. For a brief moment, I felt the dark presence of someone standing behind me.

  And then, I felt a terrible searing pain on my skull.

  After that, there was only the stars.

  Chapter 30: The Closing Curtain

  I woke, my head aching. I felt terribly dizzy.

  There was an odd sound like someone was chopping wood. Sprays of cold water splashed onto my face. I winced.

  “You’re to blame. You. Not me. This is your fault,” a muddled voice growled at me.

  I opened my eyes a crack to see a figure driving a pick-axe into the frozen river. We were on a dark section of the frozen river. I looked up and saw London Bridge near us.

  Water splashed onto my face again.

  “You couldn’t just let him go, could you? Don’t lie and tell me you didn’t want him. I know you did. All along, it was him you wanted.”

  I squinted, trying to see, but my head ached miserably. The bitter taste of salt and metal tinged my mouth. Blood? I tried to make out the figure standing above me, but my eyes fluttered closed.

  There was a sharp tug on my foot then a curse as the large man’s boot I was wearing came off.

  “Red slippers,” the figure growled, then grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me across the ice. I felt the chill on the back of my neck, and something inside me screamed that I should wake up.

  When I opened my eyes, I was looking up at the moon.

  I tried to jerk my leg away from the rough hand that held it.

  The figure stopped.

  I shuddered with cold, and fear, and pain.

  “Awake? No matter. It’s done now.”

  The figure bent down and grabbed me roughly by the arm.

  John.

  “J—J—John?” I said through chattering teeth.

  “Jacob, actually,” he said. “Not that it would have mattered to you. You’re such a whore. You ran from me right to him, didn’t you? You were the liar all along, Elyse. Not me. You did this. You forced this on me. You. This is your fault,” he said then tugged my arm. “You deserve this.”

  “What? No,” I whispered.

  “And now, after all your pretty talk, you’ll give me up. You led me on. You spurned me. And now, no doubt, you’ll turn me over to the law. Oh no. I won’t die just because you couldn’t love me as I was. It was your fault I lied. I won’t go to the Tower for your pretty face.”

  He tugged hard. The cold river water hit me with such terrible force that it knocked the wind out of me. Yet at the same time, something very mean in me took over. I knew that if I didn’t act, and act now, I would die.

  I reached out and felt for something, anything, to hold on to. There was nothing but water.

  I opened my eyes. I was under the waves. Everything was black.

  The movement of the Thames below the ice tugged at me, pulled me down.

  I fought it. I gazed up through the water. I saw John’s distorted image, the moon at his back, as he stood over the crack in the ice watching me die.

  Kicking hard, I reached out and grabbed at the edge of the ice. It was sharp as glass. I pulled, trying to lift myself out of the water, but the Thames would not have it. I felt the dark water drag at me as my lungs burned.

  I pulled myself toward the surface, but the ice I held onto gave way, coming off in a frozen chunk. I began slipping underwater.

  I kicked hard, feeling the other boot give way. I kicked my legs like my life depended on it, and grabbed for the edge once more. But missed. My head hit the ice hard and I saw stars.

  My lungs burned.

  And it grew dark.

  And cold.

  And still.

  If we shadows have offended…

  If we shadows have offended…

  If we shadows have offended…

  Chapter 31: The Curtain Call

  As the last breath of air left me, I opened my eyes once more.

  John stood above me, watching me drown.

  But a moment later, another figure appeared behind him. They lifted something large and dropped it on John’s head. He crumpled.

  Hands plunged into the water.

  I kicked hard, reaching upward.

  My hands connected with another’s. Someone took me by the hands and pulled me from the river. I coughed hard, retching river water. The unseen person knelt behind me, patting my back as I wheezed, gasping for air.

  “Elyse, breathe. Breathe! Cough out the water.”

  In the distance, I heard the whistle of one of the Bow Street Runners.

  I coughed, water clearing from my lungs. It burned as it expelled from my nose and mouth. It hurt, but I was alive.

  I opened my eyes just a crack and saw people carrying torches rushing toward me. In the crowd was one of the uniformed lawmen.

  “What’s happened here? Is she alive?” the Bow Street Runner asked in an authoritative voice.

  “Barely. This man tried to drown her. I plucked her out in time,” a feminine voice replied.

  “What happened to him?”

  “I cracked him on the head with guard of this sword. He’s out,” the person replied matter-of-factly.

  “Arrest him. You there, lift the girl. She needs to be taken somewhere warm. Let’s get her off the ice.”

  Strong hands lifted me. My head bobbed drowsily then leaned against a barrel-chested gentleman I didn’t know.

  “Your name, Madame?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but could only cough.

  “My name is Marion Stovall. This is Miss Elyse McKenna. We are players at the Ice House Theatre.”

  I forced myself to open my eyes. Marion was standing beside the constable, a frustrated and upset look on her face. Her gown was completely soaked. In her hand, she was holding one of our stage swords. I cast a glance down at the ice where John—no, Jacob—lay sprawled. The officers were securing his hands with rope.

  “That explains why she’s dressed in men’s c
lothes. And the man who shoved her in. Who is he?”

  “I believe he is Lord John Waldegrave,” Marion answered.

  “No,” I rasped out. My throat burned. “No. He is the pretender.”

  “Ah,” the officer mused loudly. “We’ve been looking for him. Don’t worry, Miss McKenna. We’ll get you off the ice and warm in no time. And we’ll deal with this piece of rubbish.” The officer blew his whistle, calling over some of the other Bow Street Runners to take Jacob into custody.

  Marion bent and picked up a bag that had been sitting on the ice. A tuft of dark purple silk stuck out of the bag. It was her Lady MacBeth costume. She’d once told me it was the first role she’d ever played, her first costume, and her very favorite. She always wore the same purple dress whenever she played the part. She’d come back for the costume. To my luck, she’d seen what had happened and, for once, she’d done the right thing. She’d saved me.

  “Marion,” I whispered.

  She shook her head. “Rest, Elyse,” she said then smiled softly at me, a million honest apologies in her expression.

  “The Hawkings’ Workshop,” I whispered up to the man who carried me.

  “Hawkings’ Workshop?” the man asked, looking to his commanding officer.

  “Just off the Thames. There,” Marion said, pointing. “Miss McKenna has friends there.”

  The commanding officer nodded. “Very good. Take her there. Quick about it now. And you, Miss Stovall, I need you to come with me.”

  “Very well,” Marion replied.

  She set her hand on my shoulder for just a moment.

  “Marion…” I whispered.

  “I owed you. I’m sorry for what happened,” she said with a soft smile then turned and left with the Bow Street Runners.

  I closed my eyes.

  Hands moved me from person to person, and soon, I was on horseback.

  I could feel the rocking movement as the horse trotted across the cobblestones. Someone held me tight against them.

  Then, I heard voices.

  I heard the Hawkings’ footman. Then I heard Isabelle and Master Hawking.

  The last voice I heard was Kai’s.

  “I’ve got her,” Kai said. I felt Kai hold me, carrying me. “I love you, Elyse. Rest and get well. I love you.”

  Those sweet words rocked me to sleep.

  That night, I had a vivid dream. In my dream, the icy Thames had broken up and the river began to flow once more.

  Two ships sailed away from London, their sails illuminated by moonlight.

  Standing at the prow of one of the ships was a handsome couple. The man had flowing blond hair. He was joined by a beautiful dark-haired woman. They wore elaborate clothes that were silver and white and trimmed with fine furs and jewels. On their heads, they wore crowns of ice. At the stern stood a boy with dark hair and twinkling eyes. He waved goodbye.

  The ships slipped down the Thames, gliding over the dark waves which glimmered with sparkling silver moonlight. They floated downriver until the ships met the moon’s reflection. There, the vessels were swallowed by the moon. The fair-haired man and his dark-haired beauty disappeared into the other realm.

  Epilogue

  Kai and I stood on the dock watching the final boxes being loaded onto the ship.

  Dressed in a pale yellow gown covered in a blue coat, her hair pulled into a long brown braid, Isabelle rushed down the plank of the ship toward us. She smiled happily.

  “We are nearly ready. I’ve never been at sea before. Papa tells me I will adore it. But I will miss you both,” she said happily.

  “I have a small gift for you. For luck,” I said, handing her an item wrapped in a scarf.

  Isabelle opened the gift at once.

  I smiled as her face lit up when she saw the small hand mirror.

  “This workmanship,” she said, touching the elaborate silver filigree. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  “It’s quite magical. I’m told that if you look into this mirror under the light of the moon, it will show you your heart’s desire.”

  Isabelle looked up at me, her curious eyes wide. “You jest, I know, but what a fascinating idea. Elyse, I cannot accept this. It’s too—”

  “I don’t need it anymore. I have my heart’s desire,” I said, beaming up at Kai who was doing his best to look serious. He was failing miserably.

  “Safe travels, Miss Hawking,” Kai told her.

  “Isabelle! We’re ready,” Master Hawking called from the ship. He turned and waved farewell to us.

  “Time to go,” she said, clutching the mirror to her chest. “I promise to keep your magic mirror with me at all times,” she said with a light laugh then she turned to Kai. “Doctor Murray,” she said with a curtsey. “Missus Murray,” she added, curtseying to me.

  Still getting used to the title, my cheeks burned.

  Isabelle ran back aboard the ship.

  Kai and I waited, pausing to wave farewell once more, then we headed to our waiting carriage.

  “Please take us to the Red Slipper Ballet Academy,” Kai told the driver as he helped me climb inside.

  The man nodded.

  Slipping in beside me, and safely out of sight of prying eyes, Kai slipped his arm around me and pulled me close.

  “What is it?” I asked, sensing his discomfort.

  “Nothing. I don’t like to be near the Thames, that’s all.”

  “Near is one thing. On, or under, is quite something else.”

  “Quite.”

  I smiled then stuck my hand out of the window of the carriage. “But today is a warm spring day.”

  “Yes, Missus Murray, it is. And a fine day for ballet. What time will the Waldegraves be by to inspect the academy?”

  “Three. They won’t be longer than an hour. Lord Waldegrave just wanted to see the finished studio. Marve and Lizzie will be there for the tour as well.”

  “Very well. I read in the morning paper that more shooting stars are expected tonight.”

  “A picnic on the roof then?”

  “Shall we make wishes?”

  “Of course. But what will you wish for?”

  Kai thought deeply then said, “That the Thames never freezes again. And you?”

  I reached out and touched his cheek. “Like I told Isabelle, I have all I could have wished for. The course of true love never did run smooth, yet, at last, here we are.”

  “And here we shall always be,” he said, setting a soft kiss on my cheek.

  I smiled then looked out the carriage window as we made the final turn away from the Thames. A soft, sweet breeze whisked across the river, carrying with it the scent of new leaves and spring flowers. I stared out at the water. The wave caps shimmered with golden light as if a thousand faeries danced amongst the sprays. I closed my eyes and breathed in the perfume of spring, felt the warmth of Kai’s body beside me, and felt the steady beat of my happy heart.

  Chasing Christmas Past

  Top Ten Finisher, Best Steampunk Short Story of 2014

  Preditors & Editors Poll, Second place prize awarded to Chasing Christmas Past by Melanie Karsak

  Christmas Eve 1820.

  At Rose's Hopper, a popular London tavern frequented by airship jockeys, all is merry and bright--except Lily Stargazer. Lily and her crew are set to run the Christmas Day Yuletide Airship Race from London to Calais, but not before spending the night swimming in mulled wine and longing for absent lovers.

  Even the prospect of a Yuletide win can't convince Lily that this Christmas will be better than any that came before. But Lily is about to find out that there really is a Father Christmas.

  Join Lily Stargazer in this steampunk romance short story, a prequel to the steampunk romantic adventure series, The Airship Racing Chronicles.

  Part 1

  A light dusting of snow covered the bowsprit of the Stargazer. The wind blew gently, causing a cascade of fat snowflakes to gust across the deck of the airship. When the flurry hit the bulwark it became a whi
rlwind that drifted upward into the purple and blue twilight sky. I rubbed my hands together. It was Christmas Eve, and it was bitter cold. I sighed deeply, my breath fogging the air. From the streets of London below the airship towers, I could hear the holiday revelers singing Hark! The Herald Angels Sing. The scent of roasted chestnuts perfumed the wind. My stomach growled hungrily, and I began dreaming of the mug of mulled wine waiting for me at my favorite haunt, Rose’s Hopper. Nothing sounded better than sitting in the corner of the tavern, drinking Christmas Eve away. Leave the roasted geese, plum pudding, and midnight mass to all the joyful mums and dads and fat-cheeked children. Tonight, I would drink. Tomorrow, I would race.

  The balloon of the Stargazer shifted in the breeze. I’d already started strategizing. Cold air meant the balloon would get better lift which we could use to our advantage, but flying in snow was annoying as hell. Not that it mattered much. I knew what to do. I’d run in the Yuletide Airship Race since I was a girl. What made the 1820 race any different? I wasn’t going to let a little snow get between me and the fat stack of coins waiting in Calais. This year I would win for sure.

  I pulled out my little bottle of laudanum. My fingerless gloves were good for more than just gripping the wheel of the Stargazer. The cap on the laudanum bottle was always annoyingly tricky. With shaking hands—the chill of the wind, of course—I undid the lid then took a drop. I stuffed the bottle back into the pocket of my wool trousers as Angus came out of the gear galley.

  “Bloody hell! I think my balls are frozen,” Angus said with a laugh as he attempted to smooth down his kilt. “Are you done fussing, Lily? The ship is set to go. Let’s head to the Hopper. Jessup is probably half-drunk already.”