Miss Frost Braves the Blizzard

by Kristen Painter

  And my job, but I digress.

  I held my arm out toward the door. “Let’s head in and figure out how we’re going to do this.”

  My father led the way with Tempus behind him, then my uncle. Sinclair waited until I was beside him, then fell into step with me.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  I stopped, causing him to stop too. “What?”

  He bobbed his head toward the sleigh. “There are four reindeer on the roof of the building.”

  I nodded. “They’ll be fine. They’re used to waiting at all those houses on Christmas Eve. I promise, they’ll be okay up here.” I blew Cupid a kiss. “Won’t you, boy?”

  He snuffled in response and nodded, pushing his nose into the air.

  “See?” I smiled at Sin. “Plus, I can have Rowley check on them if things run long. I’m sure Uncle Kris brought them some feed.”

  “All right then. Let’s get to it.”

  A couple minutes later, we were all seated in the living room of the third-floor company apartment. Sin and I were on one couch, Tempus on the one across from us, my dad and uncle on the cattycorner chairs. Made for a cozy group, and one that was conducive to conversation.

  My dad had let the show of power go once we’d stepped inside, something I was taking as a good sign. With that and my uncle’s warm greeting of Sin, my nerves had basically disappeared. I was grateful, because this was my show and I needed to run it with confidence. I got the meeting underway. “Tempus, how long will it take you to put the yetis to sleep?”

  He twisted his fingers through the cord that held his hourglass. “I can’t say. I’ve never done it before.”

  I looked at my dad. “No experiment? I thought you had volunteers?”

  He shrugged. “There wasn’t time. Our focus was getting here as quickly as possible.”

  “I appreciate that, but not knowing what the process is going to be like gives us an unknown to deal with.”

  “Shouldn’t be too big of a deal,” my dad said.

  “Unless it takes longer than we think and the yetis get wise to what we’re doing. If they take off and run wild through the town—”

  Uncle Kris groaned. “We can’t have that. Those little terrors will destroy the place.”

  “Right,” I said. “More than they already have.”

  Silence fell over us, the sound of thinking.

  Then Sin spoke up. “We can ask the witches to help. They’re doing it already by hiding the fortress from human eyes. Maybe they can add some type of containment spell to keep the yetis from leaving the park.”

  “Good thinking,” my dad said.

  I nodded in agreement. “That’s perfect. I want Juniper and Kip there, too, since they know what’s going on.”

  Sin took out his phone. “I’ll reach out to Pandora. See what she thinks of that idea. You text Juniper.”

  “Great.” I slipped my phone from my purse and shot Juni a quick text filling her in. Then I looked at my dad. “Are you prepared to help me combat their magic if the yetis attack?”

  “Absolutely.” His gaze went to Uncle Kris. “We both are. And with your employees there, we’ll have plenty of winter elf power on hand to fight ice with ice if need-be.”

  “True. I better let Juniper know about that.” I added a second text to her and got one back almost instantly saying she, Kip, and Pete were on board and that Kip would drive them to the park. I sat back, feeling relief. “They’re in. Now we just need to know that Birdie’s got everything lined up on her end and we’re good to go.”

  “What’s this Birdie doing?” my uncle asked.

  “Her nephew is the sheriff, and her other nephew is the fire chief and he went to school with Nate Grimshaw, who, as it turns out, is actually Eustace Brightly’s son.”

  “That reminds me,” my dad said. “I looked up the name you gave me. There was an Owen Coldwell registered as a tinker. I dug deeper and found that he’d been found guilty of selling a toy design to a human manufacturer. He and his wife and child were banished as a result.”

  I braced myself. “And that child was Myra.”

  He nodded. “Myra Coldwell.”

  “Who became Myra Grimshaw after her father changed their family name. So she wasn’t adopted after all, but banished.”

  “Terrible thing,” my uncle muttered. “But rules are rules.”

  I nodded, thinking about what that had to have been like. About what would have driven Owen Coldwell to do something so risky. Something with such awful consequences. “Then she was a winter elf. And Nate is full-blooded.”

  I looked at my father. “If he helps us by closing the portal, you should give him a special dispensation. Let him back into the North Pole.”

  “I…guess I could think about that.” He glanced at my uncle, who shrugged.

  “You’re the Winter King, Jack, not me.”

  My father sighed. “It’s not a good precedent to set.”

  “What?” I said. “That helping the crown resolve a problem doesn’t buy you some mercy?”

  “Jayne, it’s not that. It’s like Kris said, rules are rules. A banishment is for life.”

  “But Nate had nothing to do with it. He doesn’t even know the truth of who he is.”

  Sin cleared his throat softly and looked up from his phone. “He does now. And Birdie said he’s happy to help.”

  I shot my father a stern look. “He deserves a special dispensation. And I will be very cross with you if one is not forthcoming.”

  Before my father could say another word, I stood up. “We should meet with Birdie and her crew and get our timelines right. This needs to go smoothly.”

  Sin got to his feet. “She’s ready for us at the park, actually. I’ll go bring the car around.”

  I had a feeling he was happy for the excuse to leave. “See you downstairs.”

  My uncle got up. “Come on, Tempus, let’s give these two a moment.”

  The Sandman pushed to his feet and followed my uncle to the door without comment.

  When they’d left, my father sighed. “Jayne, I understand your side. I do. But our laws are there to protect us. The fact is, if Eustace was still alive, he’d be in trouble for being married to a banished winter elf. He knew that too. Why do you think he kept it a secret for his entire life?”

  “Dad, I understand the need for laws. But this is a special case. Nate is going to help us undo the magic his father created. That’s got to be worth something. He’s going to be saving Buttercup’s life. Doesn’t that balance the scales?”

  My father sighed again, and the muscles in his jaw tightened.

  I pushed harder. “And what about the fact that he’s an orphan now? Both of his parents are dead. And he’s just now found out that he’s a winter elf. What do you think the first thing he’s going to want to do is?”

  My father made a face. “Visit the North Pole.”

  “Are you prepared to tell an orphan he can’t go home?”

  One side of his mouth quirked up in what might have been a smile. “You have your mother’s flair for embellishment, you know that?”

  I slouched a little, like it was no big deal that he was about to give in. Because he was. I could feel it. “Are you letting Nate in or not?”

  He blew out a long breath, sending spirals of icy vapor curling through the room. “Just like your mother,” he muttered.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Yes, I’ll let him in. But only if he gets that portal closed.”

  I sprang to my feet. “He will.”

  My father stood with less enthusiasm. “You’d better hope so. Because if he doesn’t, you’re going to be the one to tell him why the North Pole is off-limits.”

  The scene at the park was about the same as it had been, except for two big changes.

  One was the gathered crowd inside the barriers was the largest it had been so far. Most of the extra people were witches, there to help with the containment spell. Besides them, there
was a large group of firemen, who were standing by a school bus at the far end of the park, and on our end, two paramedics with an ambulance and my crew of Kip, Juniper, and Pete.

  But there was another guy standing with Birdie, someone I didn’t recognize at first. Then I realized he was the man of the hour. Nate.

  The other big change was the emergence of an odd-looking addition to the center of the ice castle. It was almost a platform, but made of thick ice spikes. Like a bed of nails. But a lot scarier.

  My uncle whistled when he saw it. “The sacrificial plank.”

  I stared at him, horrified at all the new images those words created in my head. I couldn’t stand the idea that the yetis had erected that for the sole purpose of putting Buttercup on it. “Please don’t say any more.”

  He put his arm around me. “It’s not going to come to that, I promise.”

  “No, of course it won’t.” I accepted his assurance with a smile, but my stomach was in knots.

  He gave me a squeeze. “Now I better go check in with Tempus. You know how he can be.”

  “I do. Thanks, Uncle Kris.”

  He winked at me, then walked over to where my father and Tempus were talking to Sheriff Merrow, Birdie and the man I assumed was Nate Grimshaw. Or Brightly, considering the circumstances.

  Birdie caught my eye and brought Nate over to meet me. He was a nice-looking man with hair so blue it read black, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made him seem a little lost.

  I guessed I’d look like that too if I’d been handed the same information he had today.

  I shook his hand and smiled at him, wishing I could bring his parents back and give him the childhood he’d missed out on. I couldn’t, of course, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to make it happen. “It’s so good of you to help us like this. The city owes you its gratitude.”

  “Seeing as how it’s kind of Aunt Myra’s fault that—” He cut himself off and the lost look intensified. “I guess I should say my mother.” He stared at the ground. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “I can imagine. Are you doing okay?”

  “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “It is. But being a winter elf is a wonderful thing. I promise.”

  He lifted his head. “You would know, wouldn’t you? Since you’re the princess and all.” Naturally, that’s how Birdie had introduced me to him. “Should I bow or something? I don’t know anything about being a winter elf yet. I’ve always thought I was fae. I guess I have a lot to learn.”

  “No bowing,” I said. “And you have lots of time to learn.”

  “Lots of time,” Birdie repeated.

  “Right now,” I said, “we just need to figure out how to close that portal. Were you able to get everything from the safe-deposit box?”

  Birdie nodded, but let Nate answer. “I’ve been reading through the notes my, uh, father left, and it seems pretty straightforward. A drop of my blood and the portal disappears.”

  I sighed with relief. “I’m so glad it’s that easy. Your father was a smart man.” He was also kind of a ninny for using his blood in designing that faulty snow globe, and in giving it to Myra, but Nate didn’t need to hear that.

  “Thanks,” Nate said.

  “Looks like everyone’s preparing to start.” The witches had spread out along the inside of the perimeter, which allowed them to surround the fortress but keep a safe distance from it too. “Come on, let’s make sure we know where we’re supposed to be.”

  “Lead the way, Princess,” Birdie said.

  The three of us crunched through the snow to join the men. The small circle opened to make room for us.

  Sheriff Merrow addressed Nate. “I’m going to take you to your mother’s house now. Not only do we need you out of harm’s way in case things go south here, but I thought you’d want some time there before we start carting these yetis in and you have to close the portal.”

  He nodded. “I would like that. It’s been a few years since I’ve been back.”

  The sheriff looked at his aunt. “Birdie, why don’t you come with us?”

  It wasn’t really a question. I thought she’d want to stay here where the action was, but she didn’t fuss.

  “I’d love to,” she said.

  Maybe being around Nate had kicked in her nurturing instincts. He certainly could use some taking care of.

  Made me proud of her. “We’ll be seeing you over there soon enough.”

  The sheriff grunted in reply, and the three of them headed for his patrol car.

  “Are we sure a school bus is the best thing to transport the yetis to Myra’s in this weather?” I asked the group. I had a vision of the bus skidding on all the snow and spilling yetis everywhere.

  Titus nodded. “Positive. That bus weighs about 28,000 pounds, and that’s without anyone on it. Plus, the treads on those tires are very deep. It’ll be just fine on the snow.”

  He seemed pretty sure. I looked at the bus again. “Okay.”

  “And the bus can hold seventy-two kids, so we figure we can easily cram a hundred or so sleeping yetis in there.”

  “Still, it’s a good thing we don’t have far to go.”

  My uncle settled his hands on his waist. “Tempus and I will go with the firemen. If any of the yetis awake, we’ll be able to get them back to sleep or turn them into ice cubes.”

  “That sounds really good. That’s a solid plan.” I liked that a lot. I didn’t want to mention how incredibly cramped (and smelly) the bus would be with the addition of my uncle and the Sandman, but it was a short trip. I looked at Tempus. “What do you need from us while you’re doing your thing?”

  “Just quiet while I put them under. Restful thoughts couldn’t hurt either.”

  “You got it.” I went back to addressing the whole group. “So Tempus sends the yetis off to dreamland, then what? Who’s getting Buttercup out? Who’s taking charge of getting the yetis on the bus?”

  Titus spoke again. “I’ve got my firemen ready and waiting to assist with the yetis.”

  My dad put his hand on my arm. “Jay, I think you and I should get Buttercup out. Then we’ll have the paramedics give her the okay before she goes anywhere else. Juniper and Kip can take over from there. That will free you and me to go to Myra’s with Uncle Kris and make sure everything goes smoothly with the portal. Sound good?”

  “Sounds good.” I smiled as I turned to Tempus. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of blue on the fortress. “I don’t want to rush you, but the yetis are moving.”

  We turned as a group to see what was going on.

  Buttercup was on the top of the fortress, and the yetis were gathering around her.

  My blood chilled. “Tempus, whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”

  His hand went to his hourglass, but that’s all the movement he made. “Patience, Princess. All in good time. I must prepare for—”

  “No,” I snarled at him. “Your job is putting people to sleep. So do it. Now.”

  “These aren’t people,” he snapped back. “I have to prepare.”

  My uncle cleared his throat and looked over the rim of his glasses. “Tempus, put the yetis to sleep now, or I’m putting you on the naughty list.”

  Tempus swallowed.

  I almost laughed. I knew the naughty list was a powerful thing, I just never thought it would work on the Sandman himself. I guessed no one wanted coal in their stocking.

  Tempus faced the fortress and raised one hand. He began whispering in a soft, sing-songy voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded very much like a lullaby.

  One by one, the yetis gathering around Buttercup shifted their attention toward us. Toward Tempus, really.

  But they didn’t seem the least bit sleepy. Instead, they trotted over to the top of the ice wall and peered down. Curious, for sure, but bright-eyed all the same.

  My gaze flicked from Tempus to the yetis to my dad. He shrugged. I glanced at my uncle. He was focused on Tem
pus in that way of his that said he was still undecided which list the Sandman would end up on.

  I appreciated that.

  Back at the ice fortress, the yetis had lost interest in the Sandman’s tune. They were facing Buttercup again, their little hands in the air around her like they were getting ready to worship their queen. A low keening drifted out of them, and the ice started vibrating in frequency. That caused a new, high-pitched hum to fill the air.

  I grimaced at the sound. It was like we were surrounded by wasps. The noise made my skin crawl and all the little hairs on the back of my neck prickled with magical energy.

  The spikes of ice stretched higher, creaking as they grew. Buttercup walked toward the spikes.

  I held my breath and clenched my hands into fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. Things were not going well.

  Fortunately, Tempus understood that his lullaby wasn’t working. He unhooked the hourglass from his belt and held it out. The glittering diamond sand inside it began to pulse with waves of light.

  The waves washed over the snow in bands of pure, calming brilliance. They were impossible to look away from.

  The itchy droning of the yetis stopped. They were all at the edge of the wall again, staring at the hourglass. But now the back of my head felt thick. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since I’d blinked.

  A new song slipped from Tempus’s throat, still in words I couldn’t understand. Was he speaking yeti? They were mesmerized by it. The crowd of them at the wall had tripled, and Buttercup seemed to be forgotten. And she’d stopped walking toward the spikes, which was a very good thing.

  I made myself blink to clear the fog in my head, but that didn’t give me much relief. I had the slow, sinking thought that Tempus was putting us all to sleep. I slogged through the snow with great effort, trying to reach him. Getting my feet to move was hard. So hard I wanted to sit down and nap a little.

  No.

  I pinched myself. The pain helped a little. I made it to Sanders and tugged on his robe. “You’re making us all fall asleep.”

  He nodded, but didn’t stop with the singing.

  My lids were drooping, and when I blinked again, I was kneeling in the snow. I wanted to sleep so bad I wasn’t sure why I was even fighting it. I couldn’t see Buttercup on top of the fortress anymore. Maybe the yetis had moved her. That could be bad. They might have hidden her away inside that monstrosity of ice and snow.