Miss Frost Braves the Blizzard

by Kristen Painter

  Tempus’s song grew softer. Or I was drifting. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t care.

  I lay down in the snow and closed my eyes.

  “Princess.”

  “Go ’way.” The bed was trembling. I waved a hand, trying to shoo Spider. When had his voice gotten so low? And why was it so cold in my room?

  “Princess.”

  I knew that voice and it wasn’t Spider’s. My eyes blinked open. This wasn’t my bed or my room. I was sprawled in the snow at Balfour Park. And Tempus Sanders was shaking me awake.

  “You need to get up. The yetis are asleep. We have to wake everyone else.”

  That did it. I was up instantly. I jumped to my feet, sending clumps of snow flying. All around me, people snoozed on the frozen earth. All but Sin, who was walking toward me.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?” I asked.

  “I was, but the minute he stopped chanting, I woke up.” He looked at Sanders. “How long will the yetis be out?”

  His hourglass was back on his belt. “I don’t know.”

  “Then we need to move.” Sin hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get the firemen up. The sooner we have those yetis on the bus, the better.”

  “Agreed. I’ll work on the sheriff and my family.” I looked over at Tempus. “You wake the witches.”

  He nodded and headed for the first sleeping spellcaster.

  It didn’t take long to get everyone up, because as we woke people, they started waking others. In minutes, the firemen had ladders up against the ice fortress and had begun handing the yetis down the line of volunteers and passing them right into the bus. It was like an old-fashioned bucket brigade. My uncle and Sin helped arrange the yetis on the bus.

  While that was going on, my dad and I cautiously approached the castle from the opposite side of where they were working. We needed to get Buttercup out, but we certainly didn’t want to cause the yetis to wake up.

  We reached the wall. I stared up at it, towering over us like blue glass. “How do you want to do this?”

  He put one hand on the wall. The ice glowed softly under his fingertips. “The easy way.”

  “Works for me.” But I wasn’t sure what that meant. Especially because nothing about this had been easy so far.

  He took a step back, so I did too. Then he lifted his hand, pointed his finger and sent a spark of magic into the ice. He used it to sketch out a doorway, cutting through the ice like it was whipped cream.

  When the door was finished, he directed his magic to ease the slab out of the way and float it to the ground.

  He dropped his hand, and a blade of ice filled it, gleaming sharp and crystalline. He looked at me as if he hadn’t just made something really hard look incredibly easy.

  I was proud of him, and a little jealous, but I knew with time, my magic would mature to that level too. “That was great, Dad.”

  “Thanks. Let’s go get Buttercup.”

  I formed a blade of my own. Shorter than his, but just as effective. “Let’s get her.”

  “Follow me.” He went through the doorway he’d made.

  I was right behind him.

  The temperature inside the ice castle was so shockingly low it made it hard to breathe. That helped with the stench, but the air crackled in my lungs and caused my chest to ache. How had Buttercup survived this? Or had the yetis only recently dropped the temperature in preparation for the sacrifice? Whatever the case, the frigid temps just drove me to want to get her out that much more.

  I sent up a big wish that she was okay, and that whatever brainwashing the yetis had done to her was completely reversible.

  A maze of halls and rooms and stairs made up the interior. We stopped just a few feet in at a set of stairs. Passageways led away on both sides, and they looked well used by the amount of scuffs and scratches on the floor. My father pointed to me, then toward the left, then at himself and to the right.

  I nodded, understanding we were going to sweep the first floor.

  He gave me a smile, put his finger to his lips, and disappeared down his side of the hall.

  I went the other way, keeping my blade in front of me and my ears and eyes open. I searched room after room, amazed at how intricate the fortress was. Tumbleweeds of blue fur drifted by now and then. One room had stacks of mail in it. That would have to be redelivered. Another had strands of Christmas lights that would never be untangled. In a third, a large collection of welcome mats covered the floor. More blue fur was stuck to them, making me think the yetis had been sleeping on them.

  But not a single one held Buttercup. I hoped my dad had better luck. I completed my side and met up with him back at the stairs.

  He was alone.

  He pointed up.

  I followed and we repeated the same sweep as we had on the first floor. I was in the middle of a room stuffed with quilts and blankets, digging through them in case Buttercup was somewhere underneath, when I heard my dad’s voice quietly but firmly speak my name.

  “Jayne.”

  I straightened, perking up my ears. “Here,” I said softly.

  “Leave,” he said in the same resolute voice.

  That single word made my chest ache more than the icy-cold air. I read a thousand different meanings into his tone. He was in trouble. The yetis had awoken and surrounded him. Or he’d found Buttercup and she was in trouble. Or worse.

  Leaving was not an option either way. “No,” I replied with the same even tone. “Coming to you.”

  “Downstairs,” was his only reply.

  I hustled for the stairs as quietly as I could. He didn’t sound like that was where he was, but maybe he was ahead of me and headed in that direction. Sound reverberated through the fortress, making it impossible to tell where it was coming from.

  I didn’t see my dad until I hit the first floor and came around the corner toward the door he’d carved.

  He was about to step through it, but turned at the sound of my footfalls.

  Buttercup was in his arms. So pale she was nearly as translucent as the ice fortress she’d been imprisoned in. Limp. Lifeless.

  I sucked in a breath, my eyes heating with unshed tears.

  He shook his head, then continued out the door. I ran after him, dropping my ice blade to grab her hand. I might have still been holding the blade for all the warmth in her.

  “Is she…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word.

  “I don’t think so. But she’s not well. She’s very, very cold.”

  “Hypothermia.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m going to prep the paramedics.” I ran ahead to the ambulance, no longer caring about being quiet. “Get everything ready you possibly can to warm her up. She’s in hypothermia.”

  “We’re ready,” the first paramedic said.

  I skidded to a stop. “I hope so. Hypothermia in a winter elf is a lot harder to treat than in humans. Our bodies sometimes accept the drastically low temperature as the new normal and sink into a coma that can’t be reversed.” This was the winter elf equivalent of Cooper’s mom having heatstroke. Just as deadly and just as serious.

  The second paramedic nodded. “We’ve been prepped.”

  My dad arrived with Buttercup, and the paramedics threw open the ambulance doors. A push of heat washed over me. That gave me some assurance that they weren’t kidding about being ready. They lifted her out of my dad’s arms, put her on the gurney and started piling heated blankets on her.

  Juniper and Kip came up to the vehicle as the paramedics were closing the doors. Juniper looked on the verge of tears. “How is she?”

  “Not good, but I think she’ll be all right.” She had to be. She’d so willingly taken Birdie’s place that she didn’t deserve this end. “You guys will go with her to the hospital?”

  Kip nodded. “We’ll be there until she’s ready to come home if need be.”

  “Thanks.” I stared through the fogged-up windows on the back of the ambulance, wishing I could will her back to good heal
th.

  Sin jogged through the snow toward us. “The bus will be loaded in about two more minutes.”

  I nodded, still staring at those fogged-up windows and hoping that Buttercup wasn’t slipping into a coma while we just stood here.

  “Jay,” my dad said. “We really need to go.”

  “I know.” But I couldn’t take my eyes off the vehicle.

  “Go ahead, Jayne,” Juni said. “Kip and I are going to make sure she’s okay. We’ll be right there the whole time. I promise.”

  “Thanks.” I swallowed down the knot in my throat and managed to blink back the tears. I glanced at my dad and Sin. “I’m ready. Let’s get these monsters out of town.”

  Thanks to Sin’s driving, we got to Myra’s house ahead of the school bus.

  The sheriff met us on the front porch. “How did it go?”

  “The bus is on its way,” Sin said.

  “Buttercup is in bad shape.” I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, my eyes burning with the threat of tears. “She’s headed to the hospital. Hopefully she’ll survive.”

  The sheriff stepped away from the front door. “Miss Evergreen is a strong woman. I think she’s going to be just fine.”

  “Thank you.” I appreciated his words.

  He nodded. “Birdie and Nate are in the kitchen. He’s ready to go.”

  “Good.” I went in, and Sin followed, leaving my dad and Sheriff Merrow to wait on the yetis.

  Birdie and Nate were at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee. They both looked up, faces full of expectation.

  Sin spoke first. “The yetis will be here shortly.”

  “How’s Buttercup?” Birdie asked.

  “Not great,” I said. “On her way to the hospital.”

  Birdie got up. “Poor kid. I should go over there. Be with her.”

  That surprised me. “You don’t want to stay and see how things go with the portal?”

  She hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “Buttercup saved my life. And you’ll tell me all about it.” Then she came around the table and patted Nate on the shoulder. “Besides, Nate’s got this.”

  He nodded, smiling a little. “I’ll handle it.”

  “How are you going to get there?”

  “I could drive her,” Sin said.

  Birdie waved his offer away. “You’re needed here. No, I’m just going to walk back to my house. It’s not far and my car’s still there. And don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” She gave me a quick hug. “I owe Buttercup.”

  “I’m glad you’re going. Kip and Juniper are there too.”

  “I’ll report in if there’s anything to report. You do the same.”

  “I will.” I hoped that report was nothing but good news. On both sides.

  The front door opened, and my father and the sheriff came in. “The bus is here.”

  “You kids have fun,” Birdie said. “I’m off to see Buttercup.”

  She left in such a hurry that I wondered if part of her reasoning for leaving was so she didn’t have to come face-to-face with the yetis again. I didn’t blame her. She’d had enough of them, that was certain.

  “Nate,” I said. “Let’s go check out that portal.”

  “All right.” He got up from the table and headed to the basement.

  I went right behind him, and Sin followed. I wanted to reassure Nate about the situation. “Don’t be scared of the yetis. Even if they wake up, my father and I will protect you.”

  He hit the landing and turned to look at me. “Birdie told me all about them. It’s okay. I’m not scared. I mean, I am, but I’m not going to freak out.”

  “Good.” I could see some of that fear in his gaze. I was okay with that. It was healthy. “And I promise that when this is over and you’re ready to explore what it means to be a winter elf, I’ll help.”

  He smiled and it reached his eyes. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  The basement door swung open, and my father jogged down the steps to join us. “We’re going to do this just like we did at the park. We’re going to create a brigade of people, pass the yetis through, and pop them back through that portal.”

  “What about on the other side?” Sin asked.

  He shook his head. “We were never able to find it.”

  I looked at Nate. “The polar forests are vast. That’s where the yetis live and where we think the portal opened up.”

  I went back to my dad. “When are we starting?”

  Titus appeared at the top of the steps, my uncle right behind him. Both of them were carrying yetis. The stench hit us a couple seconds later.

  “Never mind,” I said as they came down the stairs. A couple more firemen appeared behind them, forming the rest of the human chain.

  Nate’s nose wrinkled. “Why do they smell so bad?”

  I shrugged. “It’s their natural musk. I guess it’s some kind of self-defense thing.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Uncle Kris said. He reached the portal and stood there, his hands filled with blue fur. “Should I just put him through?”

  “Have at it,” my dad said.

  Uncle Kris held the yeti over the portal and dropped it.

  The yeti hit the ice, bounced back, and awoke in a snarl of teeth and claws.

  “Sweet and sour sugar plums!” My uncle scrambled to catch him, but the yeti climbed the shelves in a blue blur.

  My dad and uncle stretched their hands out at the same time, successfully using their magic to turn the rotten beast into an ice cube. He still managed to wriggle around a bit, but he was pretty effectively contained.

  “How did that happen?” my dad asked the room. “The portal’s been open this whole time.”

  I went to my knees beside it. “But we haven’t tried sending anything back. We must not be doing something right.”

  “We don’t have much time to figure this out,” Titus said. He was holding his yeti at arm’s length.

  I would have done the same thing.

  Nate looked horrified. “There was nothing in my father’s directions about this. Not that I remember.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” I started to stick my hand through like I’d done before with Sin, then looked over my shoulder at him. “Hang on to me. Just in case.”

  “You got it.” He knew what I was doing. He kneeled next to me and held on to my waist.

  I took off my rainbow obsidian bracelet, tucked it in my pocket, then cautiously dipped my hand toward the ice. My fingers touched the cold, slick surface and a second later, my hand went through. “It’s definitely open now. Try the yeti again.”

  My uncle picked up the frozen yeti and eased him into the portal.

  He went through like a charm.

  “That’s it,” I said. “We just have to keep the portal open.”

  My father frowned at the sight of me up to my wrist in the portal, but there was no other way to keep it open. “I’ll take over.”

  “I’m already handling it. Just get those yetis off the bus and back to the NP.” The cold was seeping into me, but how long could it take to get the yetis through?

  Eighty-seven yetis and twenty-some minutes later and we were still going. I could no longer feel my arm from the elbow down.

  “You’re not okay, are you?” Sin whispered.

  I made myself smile. “I’m fine.”

  “You look cold,” Nate said.

  “I’m fine,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, still smiling. I needed to relax, but that was no small feat with my blood temperature dropping into arctic numbers. “I can handle cold.” I flexed my fingers, hoping I wasn’t causing any kind of shift in the space-time continuum by holding this portal open for so long.

  Titus sent a message along the brigade line. “How many more yeti are there?”

  The answer came back five yetis later. “Fifty-three, Chief.”

  One hundred and forty-five yetis. That was if the cold hadn’t affected my ability to do math. I arched my back, stretching out the tension as
best I could without removing my arm from the portal, and trying to give myself a little pep talk. I could do this. Cold was my jam.

  But this cold was epic, and there was no pep talk in the world that was going to erase the fact that I was hurting.

  Sin leaned in and kissed my temple. He whispered, “Babe, let your father take over.”

  I opened my mouth to answer that maybe it was time to switch out, when the fireman at the top of the stairs announced, “The yetis are waking up.”

  “Tell Sanders to put them back to sleep,” my uncle shouted back.

  The fireman shook his head as he passed a squirming yeti to the next person in line. “He says he can’t without knocking all of us out again.”

  “Then everyone needs to move faster,” my uncle answered.

  There was no time to make a swap. I made quick eye contact with Sinclair. “I’m okay.”

  He sat back, frowning. “I’m worried about you.” I could tell he didn’t believe that I was okay at all. Why did he have to be so good at reading me?

  “Jayne.” My father’s voice carried in the small space like a sonic boom. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” That was the shortest, easiest lie I could manage. “Just hurry up.” I did my best to look light-hearted. “I don’t want to get bitten.”

  As if on cue, the yeti going through the portal snapped at me, missing my cheek by a few inches.

  “Son of a nutcracker.” I jerked back, somehow managing to keep my arm in place.

  Nate went to his knees on the other side of the portal. The fear had returned to his gaze, but it was now mixed with determination. I gave him props for that.

  Suddenly, he stuck his hand in. “Tell me what to do.”

  I hadn’t expected him to do that, but I didn’t have the energy to coach him through being a winter elf right now. I looked around the yeti going through. “This isn’t the time.”

  “Let him,” Sin urged.

  I wanted to. I really did. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. He was a winter elf, after all. Sure, one with no idea how to work whatever magic was in his blood, but a winter elf all the same. And he was Eustace Brightly’s son, so he had to have power within him. Maybe he also had some innate sense of how to use that power.