by Rin Chupeco
West made for a particularly vicious dog. By the time he was done, there was nothing left of the shade, and the girls had fled.
West trotted back to Loki. He stood on his hind legs and peeled the fur off his head, revealing the boy underneath once more. “Zoe’s not going to be happy about this,” he said nervously.
A shiver rippled up Loki’s back, and they sensed the explosion before it actually happened. They only had time to grab West and yank them both out of the way before the incoming shock wave nearly swept them off their feet. The ground underneath shuddered apart, the front wall of the mansion coming down upon itself. Looking over the debris, Loki saw black smoke billowing out of a large hole that now took up most of the Doering’s lawn.
“The rabbit hole, I guess?” West offered weakly.
Loki swore.
A loud bellow came from somewhere inside the hole as if in response.
“That wasn’t a person,” West said, looking out at it through the window. From within that newly formed crater, something large moved.
“Better get used to the idea, West.” Loki raised their staff. “We’ve got trouble.”
* * *
Kensington’s six-foot-three-inch frame made hiding behind a pushcart several inches shorter fairly challenging, and a little embarrassing. Quite a few puzzled staff members had seen him trying to be unobtrusive while being anything but, before he’d finally learned to tuck himself completely out of sight.
People who knew Ken well would have asked what he was doing in a library to begin with. He didn’t mind books all that much, but he was a big fan of noise and the sound of his own voice, and liked to exercise that right as often as was humanly possible.
He watched carefully as the shade he’d been tracking drifted from bookcase to bookcase, invisible to every eye but his. But soon another shadow joined the first, followed by a third, and a fourth. He knew it was getting late and that the public library was practically devoid of people by now, though it was one of the few places still open in the area.
Ken scowled. He’d hoped to destroy the lone scout before it could alert any more of its fellows, but already something felt wrong. Shades hated daylight, but when it had first appeared at the school cafeteria, it was still a long way till nightfall. It had also been a pain in the ass to track, given how well they clung to natural shadows, and he knew Zoe was going to kick his ass for wasting so much time on this.
Shades, shadows. Loyal minions of the Snow Queen. Like their fellow nightwalkers (ogres, Deathless, chimeras), they obey her every command. They weren’t supposed to survive in Invierno. That the Snow Queen could overcome even that was a terrifying thought.
Without making a sound, he set his guitar case on the floor, pulling down the zipper to reveal two swords. The first was a katana, bathed in a dazzling white glow. The other was a shorter wakizashi blade that was a shiny obsidian black.
His hand hovered briefly over the black sword before, with a resigned sigh, he selected the other instead. Then he got into position, took a deep, quick breath, held it in for a second, then slowly exhaled, the muscles in his arm contracting as they always did before he struck.
There was a low, chittering sound. On the ceiling directly above his head, a shadow larger than the others loomed over him and grinned, baring rows upon rows of sharp, knifelike teeth.
“Die!” Ken said, and swung the sword.
There was a thunk. He’d made a small miscalculation, and his sword had stopped a few inches from the shade’s face. The bright blade had glanced off a book caught in its upward trajectory and had done no damage. Both boy and shadow gazed down at the blade. Then Ken looked back at the shade, whose teeth had lengthened considerably.
“Aw, bollocks.”
The shadow leaped.
Ken’s second attempt with the blade was more successful. This time, the sword caught the shade right along its midsection, slicing it almost effortlessly in two. The pieces landed on the floor with a nasty clunk, melting away. The other shadows, alerted by the sound, converged on Ken, sprouting claws, talons, and, in some cases, a second mouth filled with just as many razor teeth as the first.
Two of the lunging creatures were dispatched in the same manner, but several more slammed into him before he could raise the blade a third time, sending him into one of the bookshelves. The bookcase fell onto the one behind it, which in turn fell over the next, and the next, culminating in a disastrous domino effect that rendered more than half the library into complete shambles in less than two minutes. The few patrons still loitering fled, shrieking.
Struggling out from between two fallen shelves, Ken crawled frantically to his guitar case, but was yanked back. A shade had latched on to his foot; he could feel incisors digging deeply into his flesh, drawing blood. Ken kicked out, hitting it square in the face with his boot. Gritting his teeth against the quick flinch of pain, Ken neatly decapitated it with one broad stroke, then stabbed it again for good measure. The bright sword sang through the air, making short work of the rest.
When the last of the shades disappeared, Ken found himself sprawled on the floor, surrounded by piles of books, dislodged shelves, and loose papers that floated down, settling on his nose.
“Stupid shade. What did he have to go and bite me for?” Gingerly, he waggled his toe, relieved that it was only a scratch. “Blasted thing better not have rabies.”
He turned his head. The second sword lay beside him, a bright and inviting black.
“No,” he told it. “I’m still not using you.”
Something large and vaguely threatening loomed over him. Ken could sense it even through the stack of papers blocking his vision. He nudged them to one side.
A librarian stood over him, hands over her hips. She did not look happy. “What,” she began, in a voice that could be heard for miles around, “do you think you’re doing?”
There wasn’t much he could say to that. “Uh. Saving the world?”
It was almost a blessing that the wall behind them exploded before the woman could strangle him.
10
In Which Tala Dunks on an Ice Maiden
Her phone was still useless by the time Tala arrived back at Elsmore High. With the game over and most of the students at the bonfire—the ones that hadn’t fled yet, anyway—the school was as silent as a mausoleum. Surprisingly, the doors were open; some intrepid custodian had forgotten to lock up for the night.
She was just in time, spotting the firebird as it entered through one of the windows and, based on what she knew of the school layout, into the boys’ locker room.
She’d hoped that leaving the bonfire would free up any network congestion problems, but the lines were down all over town, and she couldn’t even get a bar. Either her phone was damaged, or whatever was disrupting everything else had also been intelligent enough to cut off access to all communication in Invierno.
It was the Snow Queen. It must be the Snow Queen. Who else could it be, especially after that ice wave that had tried to kill her and the firebird? The thought scared her. She wanted to head back home and find her parents or search for Lola Urduja and the others, but she was also sure she’d only be walking into an empty house. They must have caught wind of the weird things going on by now.
Cool. Supercool.
Tala was still shaking as she traveled down the darkened corridor. She knew coming here alone was a bad idea, and she was tempted to run back to the desert. At least she wouldn’t be alone there.
But Alex. If she turned tail and ran now, what was going to happen to Alex? Sure, he was a dumbass. But it was also partly her fault for being best friends with a dumbass.
A warm glow filled the hallway, followed by a soft, squeaking noise. Tala found herself looking down at the firebird, who stared back up at her and waggled its tail. She breathed easier.
“Great. What are you up to now? Did you fin
d Alex?”
The firebird grinned through its beak and hopped away, skidding to a stop at the end of the corridor and ambling into the boys’ locker room. It poked its head out a few seconds later and chirped at her, impatient.
A loud shuffling sound echoed down the hallway. The firebird ducked back into the room, and Tala spun around, heart pounding.
“Langdon!” she gasped, relieved at the sight of the round-faced boy moving toward her. Langdon Schillings was captain of the school’s chess club, the type who always had a good word to say about everyone. On his heels was Vivi Summers, the editor-in-chief for the Elsmore Gazette.
The smile on her face froze when both drew nearer. The duo moved at a peculiar lurching gait, dragging their legs like they had difficulty controlling them. Their skin was oddly blue-tinted, and the color of their eyes were a strange white, leached of all hues to the point that their irises were nearly transparent.
The Langdon she remembered had green eyes, and behind her rimmed glasses, Vivi’s had been brown.
More students appeared: Kenneth Somerset, her lab partner for one semester; Rhett McGowan, a boy she was in history with; Sophie Alcantara, the student council secretary, and many more. Eerily silent, they moved toward her with the same blank, colorless eyes.
“Guys?” Tala backed away. “Guys?”
There was only silence, and the sounds of dragging feet, as if their own body weight was a sudden and unaccustomed hindrance.
Tala wheeled around and ran, nearly stumbling when another half-dozen students poured in from the other end of the hall, blocking the exit.
“Alex!” she yelled, panicked, but there was no reply.
“Spellbreaker.” The whisper rose from Vivi’s lips, the sibilant hiss a stark opposite to the girl’s normally timid tones.
“Spellbreaker.” The murmur spread, a strange fervent hunger glittering in the otherwise expressionless faces. “Spellbreaker.”
Tala barreled into the boys’ locker room, slamming the door closed behind her.
The firebird nudged at her feet, crinkled its beak up at her, and flew off toward the row of lockers. “Thanks a lot,” Tala snapped after it. “You should be protecting me too, you jerk!”
From behind the lockers came a noise that sounded suspiciously like a raspberry.
Tala dragged a long bench across the doorway to block the entrance, then piled on a few more chairs for good measure.
There was a quiet breeze coming from somewhere, and she shivered. She didn’t remember the locker rooms being this cold.
The wind came again, stronger this time, and Tala felt her teeth chatter. She looked at her hands and saw, to her surprise, small puffs of air leaving her mouth as she exhaled.
“Hello?” The embarrassingly quavering echo of her voice bounced off the walls, so she doubled down and roared the next words out. “If this is some prank, then I swear by every Kardashian you know that I am going to…”
She stopped. There was movement at the other end of a row of lockers, an odd, scraping noise. Cautious, she crept toward the sound.
The air grew colder.
Tala was a practical girl. She got down on her hands and knees, pressing the side of her face against the floor, so she could peer through the gaps between the lockers and floor.
What she saw were a pair of feet, standing roughly three or so rows from where she knelt. The skin was an unhealthy blue. There was a quick, cracking sound every time it jerked forward, one foot twitching over the other in a parody of movement, and small particles were forming on the ground it had trodden on, leaving behind a path of glassy ice.
Tala’s heart felt as if it were threatening to punch its way out of her chest. Her rational mind argued against the existence of ghosts and the undead, but was promptly overridden by the part of her that stopped screaming inside her head long enough to remind her not only was there currently a firebird loose in the area, but she was also probably definitely being hunted down by a malicious Snow Queen, and therefore natural laws need not apply.
The pair of feet stood between her and the exit, which presented a problem. How fast could it run? Could she outrun it? Every ghost in every horror movie she had ever seen seemed to point to no.
The shuffling noises drew closer. She swallowed hard, pressing her back against a locker. For the first time in her life, she contemplated crawling willingly inside one.
The sudden clang of a locker door slamming shut nearly made her scream. But when she gathered enough courage to peek around the corner toward the noise, she only saw Alex, and relief spread through her. He was frowning at one of the lockers, jiggling at a combination lock. Much to her amazement, Lynn was also there, twiddling her thumbs nervously.
“You really don’t know what his combination is?” Alex asked her.
She shook her head. “I know where his locker is, but not that. I’m sorry…”
“That’s all right.” Alex looked around. “Are you there?” he asked aloud.
Tala started, but it was the firebird who moved, trotting out toward him.
“I’m gonna need a little help with this.”
The firebird complied. A sudden tornado of flame made short work of the lock, and the locker door fell open. Lynn screamed, jumping back. “How did you do that?” She quavered.
“I’ll explain everything later.” Alex reached in, wrinkling his nose, and tossed several pieces of dirty clothes out before finding a cell phone.
He thumbed through the screen, paused, and heaved a sigh of relief. “I don’t think he’s uploaded it yet. Must have been waiting to blackmail me first.”
“I don’t understand. What’s going on? Chris said that you were gay…”
“Lynn.” Alex spun, took her in his arms. “Thank you for everything,” he said gently. “And I’m really sorry. I don’t want you involved in any of this. If I were someone else, I would have asked you out.”
“Alex, what—”
He bent down and kissed her, cutting off her response.
Tala gasped. Alex, you asshole.
The poor girl’s mouth opened and closed like a fish who’d realized too late it was flopping on dry land. And then it firmed and expanded, even as her lips thinned and disappeared completely. Lynn’s skin began to take on greenish hues, her body shrinking until her clothes swallowed her up. The whole process lasted no more than a few seconds, until all Tala could see of Lynn Hughes was her tank top, discarded next to her skirt and underwear. From somewhere inside the strewn clothing something moved feebly and croaked.
“I really am sorry,” Alex told the frog sincerely, fishing it out and setting her gently on a nearby bench. “But I can’t have you remembering any of this.”
“What a wonderful curse, Your Highness.”
Tala stilled. So did Alex. A shape had formed at the opposite end of the room, air steaming around it. Before Alex could react, ice sprung up at his feet. Rapidly, it climbed past his ankles and calves, trapping him in place. Alex swore and struggled, fighting hard to break free. The firebird snarled, but a sudden blast of cold air sent it stumbling out of Tala’s vision.
A figure finally materialized. It had the face of a beautiful woman, with long white hair and pale skin. She wore a mantle made of green-tinged ice, whipped about by unseen winds. It was her feet that Tala had seen earlier, still bare, still that odd blue color. Everything about her looked cold and brittle. Her eyes were of the very lightest blue, devoid of all but the barest mazarine color, with irises so contracted, they were nothing more than small black dots. Her features had a grayish cast to them, and her waxy skin stretched tautly over her face, giving the appearance of an elastic, but still lovely skull. Thick tendrils of cold air floated about her as if she were enveloped in her own personal fog. She resembled the ice-like woman that had attacked her at the bonfire; different enough features, but created in much the same way.
“We’ve been looking for you for so long, Your Highness.” Her voice was harsh, cutting sharply through the air. “An unusual spell, your curse. But such an ingenuous one:
In shifting ice a prince you’ll kiss, and the first shall be forgiven;
The sword rises twice from palace stone, and the second shall be forgiven;
Pledge your love to the blackest flag, and the third shall be forgiven;
And then, my dear—and only then,
Shall you lift that which was forbidden.
“Is that not what the old witch told you?”
“That is none of your business, ice hag,” Alex snapped, though his face was pale.
The woman smiled knowingly. “Very little escapes my mistress’s notice. In her magnanimity, she has spared your life all this time, but now she has come to collect.”
She slid closer. “Do not be afraid, Your Highness,” she cooed, though the malevolence in her smile belied the words. “You will make a splendid addition to the mistress’s army once I am done. It is a gentle process and a painless reward.”
“I’d rather die than be that cold witch’s puppet!” Alex spat.
The lady laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “You will learn to love her with all your very being. You will live the rest of your life solely for her pleasure. Already this day I have taken many outlander children for the mistress. Today, they assume their place in the Winter Army, and you too shall join their ranks. Do you feel her love creeping up your veins, Your Highness?” The ice crackled, sliding past Alex’s knees to his hips. “Will you deny the queen?”
The woman held up a glittering shard of glass the size of a large grape. Alex frantically redoubled his efforts to free himself.
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? Tala had her sticks still, but her palms were clammy, sweating. She looked around, spotted a lone basketball on a nearby bench.
“Open your eyes, Your Highness,” the woman crooned. Alex tried to twist away, but the woman caught his chin, setting the glass piece over the boy’s right eye. “And stop struggling so. It will take but a moment, and you shall be free and exalted above all.”