Black Frost

by John Conroe

  “She didn’t have the pointy ear thing going on?” I questioned.

  “She is skilled at glamour – illusion to cover her differences. Try holding steel or iron in your hand the next time you look at one of my people and you’ll see through their masks.”

  “The fact that she found Ashley in the store means the whole Court will know where to find her, so we need to leave now,” he added, already standing. He lifted his right arm and the black arm bracelet that was wound around it suddenly slithered – changing form and flowing into his open hand. The night black metal morphed into a two foot blade in a split second. Greer glanced our way and saw us both frozen, mouths and eyes wide open. He glanced back at his blade. “It is my siooc dubhh sginna…my Black Frost blade. Only Guardians of the Winter Court carry them.”

  “But the Hunters have bows like that?” I questioned.

  He shook his head. “Those are made from a kind of wood….you might call it memory wood, as it ‘remembers’ two different forms.”

  I replayed the action in my head and realized that the bow had snapped open more like a switchblade than the liquid flowing metamorphosis of the Frost blade.

  “The arrows seemed awfully small?” I asked.

  “They are grown by a type of shellfish. They are very hard, light and filled with a toxin that the shellfish produces. One arrow will paralyze a man your size, two will kill immediately.”

  I shook myself and turned to Ashley. “Grab the bag you packed after dinner, and mine too!”

  I scooped up a shoulder bag I had prepared. Made from ballistic nylon, the dark green bag was small enough to not be a burden, but roomy enough to hold extra ammo for my rifle, some extra mags for my Sig, a small first aid kit, flashlight, and assorted survival goodies, including the caltrops. I slung the rifle across my back and then picked up Grandpa’s shotgun. It was loaded and had five extra shells in the stretchy nylon buttstock carrier. I threw another handful of shells into the pocket of my jacket and looked for Ashley. She had slept in her navy sweatpants and a long sleeve tee. Now she had a black and yellow hoodie over the tee and a soft shell jacket over everything. She pulled her Ugg boots on, grabbed a small bag in each hand and was ready to leave. I noted that her bag was the Aeropostale duffle her mother had given her for Christmas less than a month before she died. Ashley hadn’t had time to use it before Sarah’s death and had chosen not to use it since. I didn’t think the choice of her mother’s gift tonight was random.

  Greer nodded in approval at our speed, then led the way to the front door.

  “It’s unlikely that more Hunters have gotten here yet, and Coel hasn’t alerted me to anything, but we need to be ready and alert. Ian, it will be painful for me, but we need to ride in your vehicle – it’s the fastest way,” he said. “The only thing is I do not believe I can handle the door without burns.”

  I glanced at Ash. “I got it!” she said with a nod, her face reflecting both fear and determination.

  “Let’s go,” Greer said in a quiet voice.

  I opened our front door and he ghosted into the night, blade up in his right hand, left hand cautioning us to wait. He paused to listen and look, then nodded to us and we followed.

  The hair was up on the back of my neck and I tried to look in every direction at once as I unlocked the FJ Cruiser with my key fob. I opened my door and the rear door behind it, allowing Ashley to gesture Charm into the back seat. I scooped up the end of Charm’s leash and shut her door, while Ashley hustled around to the other side, opening both passenger side doors.

  Greer paused to grab the three bundles of green leather and metal and wood, then slid around the car with that ridiculous grace of his. We all jumped into the car, and closed our doors, the inside plastic handle apparently enough protection from the car’s steel body for Greer to use. My two long guns were tucked, muzzles down, between my left leg and the door. Highly illegal, but I wasn’t very concerned about little things like laws at this point.

  Chapter 13

  I started the car and we took off. Greer huddled in his seat, crouched over the leather in his lap.

  “What are those for?”

  “These uniforms as well as the ones that Neeve and I wear are rather special. They’re made from dragon skin and only Royals wear them. If we keep these with us, they won’t know what happened to the Hunters. It’ll keep them guessing. I’ll return them to Queen Zinna or Eirwen another time.”

  “Does that mean you’re royal?” Ashley asked from the back seat.

  “I guess it does. These three were cousins of Eirwen’s, which actually makes them distant cousins of mine as well.”

  “Let me guess…you and Neeve are the children of the Winter Queen?” I threw out.

  He nodded, alternating between looking ahead and behind us, still tucked in his painful looking position.

  “Queen Morrigan is my mother – Neeve is my older sister.”

  “So you’re a prince?” Ashley asked.

  “Technically, but it doesn’t mean anything on our world. The Courts are matriarchal, only women rule. Neeve is heir to Winter. Should anything happen to her, Mother would pick another female as heir.”

  “And yet your mother, the Queen, will risk her heir for missions to kidnap children?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Yes – for several reasons; first, Neeve is the best at this job, by a large margin. Second, it’s an incredibly important job, which is why Eirwen, heir to Summer, handles the Hunters. Last, if she fails, then she’s not the right person to be the next queen,” he said with a shrug.

  A motion in my side mirror caught my attention. A brief blur in the air. Nothing there…but a moment later it was back – a puck, flying to catch up.

  “Ah Greer, the pucks are trying to catch us,” I commented.

  He turned and looked behind us, then nodded. “Yes, I just saw one fly to the roof of this vehicle, but I didn’t see it again. They’re trying to keep with Ashley. They know she’s under threat.”

  Ashley crawled in back and looked out the rear window. “Dad, I think they’re trying to hang onto the roof rack.”

  “It’s made of aluminum so I guess that would work,” I said, slowing the Toyota down to thirty-five.

  “Ohh! Here come the rest!” Ashley said, excited. “Dad, slow down a bit more, the little ones are having trouble!”

  I dropped to thirty miles an hour and suddenly heard multiple thumps on the roof.

  “Okay, I think that’s all of them,” my daughter said with a little laugh. I found a moment to be amazed that she could laugh in the face of all this threat, violence and fear.

  “Will they be alright up there?” I asked Greer.

  “It would seem so. Pucks are tough and very adaptable, something others of my world often overlook.”

  “How about you? You don’t look like you’re alright?” I asked.

  “I won’t lie. This much steel is painful, even if it’s not touching me. But I’ll get through it. Just don’t dawdle!” he answered. “I’ll try to answer more of your questions…it helps keep my mind off the discomfort.”

  “You said ‘dragon skin’. They’re real? You hunt them?” I asked.

  “Oh they are very, very real, but no one hunts them!” he answered. “Dragons are a power to be reckoned with on my world. On rare occasions, dragons will molt, and from time to time the dragon elders have gifted the Queens with cast off skins. They are better than armor and last virtually forever.”

  “Forever?” I asked.

  “These in my lap came from a dragon that molted fifteen hundred of your years ago,” he replied. I glanced at the pile in his lap. Other than a faint bluish wetness, they looked new.

  “How about your blade?” I asked.

  “Only the Guardians of Winter have them. Their creation is one of my Court’s greatest secrets.”

  “What kind of metal is that?” I asked.

  He laughed. “They’re not made of metal at all. They are living creatures bred from our own bodies,
bound to each Guardian. They have no will of their own, but take whatever shape their Guardian decides. “

  “They flow like the liquid metal in Terminator 2, dad,” Ashley noted, watching as Greer held up his blade and had it change shape from form to form. She was right, it was the same thought I’d had.

  “How can they cut so well if they’re made of living flesh?” I asked, slightly horrified at the concept of a morphing weapon.

  He shrugged. “How can your canine have teeth and claws that are hard enough to rip and tear? How can a crab’s claw or an ant’s jaw bite through skin? Just different arraignments of…atoms, is it?” he said.

  “So this creature can rearrange the structure of its cells to form whatever you want?” I asked.

  “It is said that the wielder of a Black Frost blade is limited only by his or her ability to imagine,” he said, watching the weapon morph from a two foot spike to a cleaver-ax to a spear.

  “How do you fight something like that?” I asked with a shudder.

  “From a distance is best, they are tough to match at close range. Hunters try to use projectile weapons and avoid close combat whenever possible.”

  We were into town now so I glanced at the rearview mirror, meeting Ashley’s eyes. “Why don’t you call your grandparents and warn them we’re coming,” I suggested. A tiny pair of legs appeared on the back hatch window where a puck was hanging from the rear of the roof rack. Ash looked where my eyes were focused and laughed out loud at the puck’s antics.

  A long dark shadow loped across the road behind us, moving too fast to identify. In an instant it was gone into the woods on the other side, leaving me with just a chill as we sped through the dark, frosty night.

  Chapter 14

  Dad met us at the door, Les Baer .45 in his right hand, a hard look in his eyes. My mother hovered behind him, holding Max’s collar tightly as the big dog’s growl indicated he might bite Greer. He would have to get in line behind Dad though, based on the intense stare my father was directing at the tall elf.

  After a tense introduction, I explained the events of the night, my words focusing my parents’ worry and attention onto me. Mom had sort of collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, one arm around Ashley who was leaning against her. One hand over her mouth in horror, my mother listened to my description of the fight, forgetting for a moment that she was sitting across from Greer who was now petting Max. My father alternated with checking the windows and watching my face as I talked.

  “What now?” my father asked into the silence when I finished.

  “Well, we think we can meet with both Courts, or at least their ranking representatives to try negotiating some sort of deal,” I said, glancing at Greer who nodded.

  “What’s to keep them from just killing you outright?” Dad asked, ignoring my mother’s gasp.

  “Neither Court wants the other to have control of Ashley’s potential,” Greer answered. “My sister is Heir to Winter and Eirwen is Heir to Summer, both having enormous power and influence on my world. Also, your son is, I believe, of interest to both princesses,” he added. That was news to me.

  “Huh? How do you figure?” I asked.

  “My sister has never left a human witness alive before. It got me thinking about why she killed the Hunter and then left you alone and I’ve developed a pretty strong theory,” he said. “But first let me ask you a question, and I’m afraid it will be rather blunt. Where was Ashley’s mother from? Who were her parents?”

  Okay, I never saw that one coming. Not being prepared for sudden shift in the bizarre conversation’s direction, I was silent for a moment.

  “Mom was born in China, but she was adopted by my other grandparents when she was a baby. The Chinese didn’t value girl children,” Ashley said in a quiet voice.

  “We don’t know anything about her natural parents. Just that Ting is some type of family name, so it became Ashley’s middle name when she was born,” I added.

  “Okay, that mystery will remain unsolved. But it doesn’t change my basic theory. Ashley has potential that arrives maybe once every two or three of your generations. That potential, whatever it is for, is the result of her genetic heritage from her mother AND from her father. Talent from a single parent is often passed down, but major Gifts are always the result of both parents’ contributions. You, Ian, have obvious Gifts with metal and maybe weapons. Now that I’ve met him, I can tell your father has a Talent for weapons and I even think your mother may have a trace of Gift,” Greer said. “So you see why each of the Princesses could have an interest in you.”

  “I thought they only took children,” I replied.

  “Jeesh Dad! He means they want you to have a kid with them,” Ashley said, exasperated.

  I started to object but Greer was nodding his head.

  “Ian, both Eirwen and Neeve have very strong Talents. A child produced from the union of you and either of them would have an extremely high chance of high strength Gifts,” he said.

  “So, because they want Seabiscuit here for stud services, they’ll keep him alive?” my father asked.

  “I don’t know what a seabiscuit is but if you mean Ian, then yes,” the platinum haired elf answered.

  “So how do you set up a meet?” Dad asked.

  “If Ashley will lend a hand, I think we can use one of her pucks to carry a message.”

  “What the fuck is a puck?” my father asked.

  ***

  Five minutes later he was staring wide-eyed as Pancho and his clan finished off a beef brisket that Mom had been thawing in the fridge. Then the little leader landed in front of Ashley and listened as Greer spoke at length. Pancho seemed to agree after looking at Ashley, who gave him a nod. Then it got a bit weird.

  Greer kneeled on both legs and closed his eyes, hands on the tops of his thighs in meditation. After a minute, eyes still closed, he raised both hands, palms up in front of him. A small ball of blue light, about the size of a jawbreaker gumball, popped into existence over his outstretched hands, hovering an inch over his palms. Greer opened his eyes and spoke at length to the ball, which pulsed in time with each word. Finished, he looked to Pancho who called his second in command, the biggest puck, as well as another male forward. They both flew to Greer, hovering on hummingbird wings in front of him expectantly. Greer lifted his palms and moved both hands apart, the glowing ball of light suddenly splitting into two identical orbs. Then he shoved his hands at the pucks and light floated right into a puck, passing into their chests and disappearing. The jet black puck didn’t even blink, the other brown one rubbed his fur over his sternum then seemed okay. Both pucks gave little hand waves at their boss and then in Ashley’s direction, then blurred off into the night.

  “What the hell was that?” Dad asked, bluntly.

  “It is one of our methods of communication. It takes training and Talent, but does not rely on your metal science,” Greer answered.

  “How does the blue ball thingy get back out of the puck?” Ashley asked.

  “It is called out by the recipient, in this case my sister and Eirwen. They will send a reply back with each puck.”

  “How long?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Not too long. Maybe a quarter or half of one of your hours. They will feed the puck something high in sugar content to replenish the energy of the flight then send them back.”

  “Pucks like sugar?” Ashley asked.

  “Yes, they eat a lot of protein and fat, but they love sugar.”

  Ashley looked at her grandmother who raised one eyebrow, then both headed into the house. I looked at Dad who just gave me a shrug and looked as perplexed at I had. A few moments later the two ladies in my life came back out with a couple of tubes of cookie dough.

  “We were going to make some early Christmas cookies, using the easy way out, but I think the two of you could forgo some sweets,” my mother explained. Mom used the scissors in her hand to open the tubes and shear the dough into chunks which she handed to Ashley who handed th
em to the suddenly excited pucks. Pancho claimed the first piece then sat on Ashley’s shoulder and supervised the handouts. Whirring bodies swooped and blurred around the yard to the barking of both dogs. I had Charm’s collar and my father held Max to keep them from the sugary frenzy.

  Greer cleared his throat and spoke when we all looked his way. “I forgot to mention that they get a little….drunk when they eat sugar. Like a human on ale.”

  Sure enough the pucks’s flight paths began to get erratic and several of the adults crashed into each other, falling to the ground where they sat for a minute or two, looking all the world like St. Patty’s day revelers at the end of the night.

  “How will the messenger pucks find the princesses?” Ashley asked Greer.

  “The same way they found you – they are attracted to Talent. On this world, at this time there are just the three main sources, Neeve, Eirwen and – you.”

  “I don’t understand all this talk of gifts and talents, I mean Ashley is an extraordinary girl, but what power is it that you think she has?” my mother asked, snappishly.

  “Talents or Gifts are many and varied. One person’s ability to produce beautiful song with their voice or art with paper and brush are Gifts, albeit minor ones. The abilities most sought after by my people are the ones your older cultures called Second Sight, witchery, and sorcery. Now, in this age, you call them psy-kick,” Greer said.

  “Psychic. The word is psychic,” I supplied. “But Ashley has never shown any ability to read minds or bend spoons or guess the Lotto, except with Lindsey, but that’s cause they’re so close.”

  He shook his head, smiling slightly. “See you are wrong. Lindsey, who has some Talent of her own, and Ashley actually do connect on a level beyond just knowing each other’s behavior. It amazes me that you people ignore what’s right in front of you with such steadfast determination to be blind,” Greer said. “It happens to people on this world thousands of times and no one notices. You pick up your communication device to contact your friend or family member and they’re already on it, calling you! Husbands and wives complete each other’s sentences, mothers know when something is wrong with their children who are nowhere near them at the time, people feel something present in an empty house then laugh it off as nerves. It happens every day all over the world, but in Ashley’s case it hasn’t manifested yet,” he said. “On this planet, without guidance, Major Gifts are often not fully realized. Sometimes it takes training or a specific stimulus to bring them to the surface. My people specialize in that kind of training.”