Of Enemies and Endings

by Shelby Bach

  No wonder the witches were supposed to cast a spell to turn summer into winter. Solange wanted to make sure her reinforcements didn’t melt when they reached the human world.

  As they pounded toward us, I knew how to keep them from rushing out, and I knew how I was going to get past them to the door that led down to the prisons.

  I should have been afraid of the fight that was coming, but I wasn’t. Instead, I was afraid of not being scared. I was afraid of who I might become after I’d done this.

  stepped over the threshold, pulled out one of my combs, and tossed it over my shoulder.

  “Did you want—” Matilda stopped asking when bars sprouted up across the doorway, each as thick around as the Tree of Hope’s trunk, and raced to the top of the door frame. “Oh. So . . . no.”

  A squadron of ice trolls struck the barrier so hard that hairline cracks filled their translucent frames. Not so smart, then. One of them took a step toward me. His spear was made of wood and sharp metal.

  But I was still safe. Just that step was enough to widen all the tiny fractures in the troll’s ice body. It broke into a bunch of chunks that looked disturbingly like the crushed ice that comes out of a fridge.

  The reinforcements couldn’t take a hit like real fighters could. I could work with that.

  “Behind you!” Matilda said.

  Sadly, the ice army had noticed that the exit was blocked again. It would have been nice if they’d all run at the bars and broken themselves into itty-bitty pieces.

  They’d also noticed me, and it seemed like the Snow Queen had enchanted them to kill any intruders.

  An ice dragon reached me first. The Snow Queen had formed it slightly larger than a real, adult Draconus melodius. For teeth, she’d frozen metal spearheads in its jaws, two rows deep, like a shark.

  It didn’t matter. I was faster. I dashed between its legs and smashed two of its knees. It toppled and fell, right onto a horde of ice goblins who’d been racing my way.

  Okay, I thought, facing down the rows of ice soldiers between me and the door under the balcony, the one that led down to the prisons. It was too dark to see faces, only shadowy shapes. Twenty down, and a few thousand more to go.

  “Are you sure you don’t want help?” said Matilda. “Not even you can fight them all.”

  I didn’t plan to.

  Two of the giants in the back—twin translucent Likons—ran at me. I threw down another comb like a gauntlet. Bars shot toward the ceiling. They caught the faster Likon through the torso. He shattered instantly, and his pieces crushed at least fifty ice wolves. The second Likon crashed into the bars and cracked his elbow. He pounded on the barrier, and his damaged arm fell off.

  The second comb cut the room and the number of my opponents in half.

  I was safe along the wall of bars. I started running.

  Some ice trolls swarmed me, but they didn’t last long—all it took was a solid hilt-smash or a punch to bring them down. I even beheaded an ice dragon with a simple snap kick.

  Only the giants made me nervous. I steered clear when an ice Ori’an came my way, but I underestimated the frozen General Searcaster. I wove in between some slow-moving goblin statues, thinking the giants wouldn’t smash them up to get to me. Not my smartest idea.

  A huge see-through foot swept through the ranks and struck me so hard I went flying. The ice goblins caught in the kick cracked to pieces around me before we even touched down.

  I smacked into one of the bars. My right side flared white-hot. I gasped with pain and choked on blood.

  The Searcaster statue stretched her hand toward me. She moved way slower than the real thing.

  She’s just big, I reminded myself. She’s not as smart. She doesn’t have any magic.

  I groped inside my carryall. I threw the third comb, rolled to my feet, and ran, only half as fast as before. I didn’t think anything was broken. My right side just felt off, barely there, like it had been flattened when I’d fallen on it and it hadn’t reinflated yet.

  “She made it past that comb, Rory!” Matilda warned me. “She’s coming!”

  Scratch what I said about not being afraid.

  It was even darker in the back of the Snow Queen’s entrance hall. I could barely see. A dragon reared up out of the gloom. Next, two goblins. Then a hand of ice—larger than my entire bedroom at EAS—slammed down in front of me.

  I couldn’t stop. The ground was too slippery. So I curled my left hand into a fist and punched.

  It didn’t work. Her fingers closed around me, blocking out the little light I had left. They slapped me against her palm, and pain exploded against my temple.

  My arms flew up to protect my face. My left knuckles banged into the thick thumb joint, and that did it. The ice hand fell off along the wrist. The fingers and I went tumbling like logs, and I rolled to my feet again.

  Two hits. That was what it took to break a giant-size ice statue.

  Losing a hand didn’t seem to bother the Searcaster statue at all. She just started reaching down with the other one. I wasn’t going to let her grab me again.

  I broke into a sprint. Away from the door under the balcony. Toward the giantess statue.

  I slid through her legs and skidded to a stop behind her. My left fist slammed into her ankle, just like I’d done with Matilda. I felt my knuckle split against the ice. I winced, and then I struck again in exactly the same place. Completely unbalanced, the Searcaster statue began to topple backward.

  She would crash to the floor. She might even break into pieces, but she would definitely crush anyone underneath her when she landed.

  As Lena might say, I ran like hiccups. I ran like Lena.

  A dozen ice trolls tripped on each other in their rush to ambush me. Chase would have been proud of the way I vaulted over them, the way I slashed through a swarm of tiny gremlin-looking things.

  The shadows deepened. Searcaster’s ice statue was still falling.

  The door rose up, just ahead, a square solid shape slightly darker than the gloom.

  The ice giantess’s head cracked against the balcony.

  I threw open the door and dove through.

  The balcony shattered. Shards of ice rained down, sharp as the darts the Snow Queen had sent through Hadriane’s heart.

  Still, the ice statues were following me. White shapes streamed around the fallen ice giantess.

  One comb left. I pulled it out. I only had an instant to decide.

  I could chant the retrieval spell, call the combs back, and toss one comb down afterward to make sure none of them followed me. But then the way would be clear. The ice army could leave through the front door as soon as the Snow Queen called them, and she would have her reinforcements. Matilda couldn’t stop them all.

  Or I could drop the last one and leave behind all four combs—the only cage ever proven to catch the Snow Queen.

  I tossed the comb I was holding. Bars grew between me and the army, sealing them in.

  I turned and began to hobble down the hall. My ribs hurt.

  It really was up to me now—me and the heart.

  Light doesn’t travel too well through ice. The gloom deepened to black. Luckily, the combs weren’t the only things Rapunzel had given me.

  I fished out the glass vial and whistled. Light bloomed over my fingers and spilled down the hall. Blood was smeared over my forearm.

  I couldn’t close my hand without gasping. Green clouds had gathered under the skin around my knuckles, the beginnings of some very serious bruises. Plus my scalp was tender with goose eggs, my hair sticky with blood, my mouth swollen. If this was how I felt before confronting the Snow Queen, maybe it would be a mercy to put me out of my misery now.

  I didn’t really mean that. Well, maybe just a tiny bit.

  I limped onward. My right leg was beginning to hurt more than my ribs.

  The icy hallway sloped and narrowed. I paused. I couldn’t remember if it had done that before. I didn’t think so. The white fox had led us straight ba
ck, and then we’d gone through a door to the Treasury, where we’d taken a secret staircase down to the dungeons.

  Solange must have done some remodeling since I was here last. Of course she had. She knew I might come.

  Ugh. I needed a plan.

  I leaned against the wall. I’d just wanted to take some of the weight off my leg, but then I kept leaning. Despite the heating spell I’d cast, the ice felt good. It numbed the ache in my ribs and my leg.

  The soles of my sneakers squeaked against the floor and slid an inch toward the middle of the hallway. I hadn’t moved, not even a muscle. I was sure.

  Then with another squeak, my shoes slid two more inches.

  I stepped back.

  The corridor wasn’t getting narrower. The wall was moving. The Snow Queen had clearly included booby traps in her remodel.

  I took off down the hall. I didn’t run, not quite. The wall wasn’t moving quick enough to crush me, so a fast walk would—

  Triumphant squawk-shrieks echoed down the corridor. Fear knifed me through the chest. Witches.

  “Took you long enough to notice, Aurora Landon,” said a silky voice.

  Three green-skinned witches blocked the hall twenty meters ahead. A taller witch stood a little bit ahead of the others, her back straight, her hair woven with moonstones. It was Istalina and two more Wolfsbane witches, their wands raised.

  They weren’t like Matilda and the Living Stone Dwarves. There would be no last-minute alliance here.

  It was officially time for make a break for it. I opened my stride, ignoring the pain lancing my knee.

  “Not so fast.” Istalina flicked her wand at the right wall.

  It leapt forward, like it was spring-loaded. I shoved back with my left hand, hoping that West’s ring could hold it.

  The impact nearly shattered the bones in my arm. It probably would have if wind hadn’t built up around my elbow and blasted it, so hard that it carved a divot out of the ice under my palm. The gust grew stronger. It ricocheted off the ceiling, blowing my hair into my mouth and swirling down the hall.

  The wall stopped, but I wasn’t sure how long the wind—even if it was laced with magic—could last against solid ice.

  My shoes squeaked again. The wall gained another inch. Not long, I guessed.

  “Quick thinking,” said one of Istalina’s clan mates.

  “Thinking isn’t enough,” said the other.

  “You’ll need power,” said the first.

  “More power than you have,” added Istalina, but she didn’t sound as happy about it as the others did. She was probably thinking of her mother.

  Apologizing wouldn’t begin to make it better, not when their hate was so personal. Even telling them I knew would probably just set them off.

  The ring had grown as thin as a strand of cooked spaghetti. I could almost see it shrinking.

  “You’ll be dead in a minute or two,” said the first witch. “All we have to do is watch.”

  I glared at her. I’d just taken out an entire army of ice statues. I refused to be defeated by a wall.

  The trap didn’t extend the whole length of the corridor. The witches were in a safe section. All I had to do was cross the forty feet or so between us, and I would be out of danger.

  Well, from being crushed.

  I took one step toward the witches.

  The wall gained at least four more inches. West’s ring carved a fresh divot in the wall, about two feet from the last, and three craters opened up in the ceiling directly above me.

  “Warning shots,” Istalina said. “Try to move again, and we’ll aim for your legs. The wall will crush you all the quicker then.”

  “You’re supposed to die by the trap,” said the first witch, clearly sad about it. “Orders from Her Majesty.”

  You are not worthy of me, the Snow Queen had said in the courtyard.

  All this time, Solange had wanted her palace to finish me off. She would get all the credit, and tell her followers I wasn’t anything special. In the end, she might say, with that cold, triumphant smile, all it took to kill Aurora Landon was one small enchantment.

  No wonder the door below the balcony hadn’t been locked.

  The witches cackled.

  The wind rippling up from my left hand seemed to falter. The ring had shrunk to the width of paperclip wire.

  My head throbbed. I was so tired.

  Not like this. Not killed by the Snow Queen’s stupid house. If I had to die, I wanted to bring that heart back to her. I wanted her to kill me herself.

  A crash echoed in the hall behind the witches.

  Istalina raised her wand. “They’ve gotten through,” she hissed.

  It took a second for me to catch on. Someone else had come.

  The witches lashed the air with their wands. Spells sizzled down the corridor and, at the end, a familiar voice gave an order. “Shields! Good. Now arrows!”

  No way. It was another trick. The Snow Queen was trying to confuse me, to get me to lower my guard—

  But arrows did thud into the witches. One struck the second witch in the chest, and she fell back into the path of the wall. Another pierced Istalina’s shoulder. She ripped it out and stabbed her wand at the wound. Smoke puffed up, and before the gusting wind could blow it away, she squeezed off another shot. “Don’t let them get any closer!”

  “She doesn’t have much time!” said another voice down the hall. Lena. My heart leapt with hope. “Here! I’ll make sure it holds!”

  “Cover me.” Orange wings, so huge that they brushed the ceiling, flapped down the hall and toward the frantic Wolfsbane witches. Another flap and I could see the rest of him, the wooden cylinder in one hand, a shield in the other, and his mouth a grim twist.

  Chase.

  o!” Istalina raised her wand, but right above her, Chase folded his wings. Both of his sneakers landed on her face. She crumpled to the ground.

  Then Chase ran my way.

  I couldn’t believe he’d followed me. It should have been impossible. I’d sealed the entrance hall.

  The first witch, bleeding from her hip, flicked her wand. “Duck!” I shouted.

  He did. The spell missed and hit the ceiling instead. Still running, he shouted over his shoulder, “Geez, what part of ‘cover me’ did you not understand? There are only two witches left.”

  “And we only have one archer left!” came Lena’s voice.

  Both of them came, and one of the archers, too.

  Chase slid to a stop. Holding his shield in front of us, he fumbled with the ends of Lena’s retractable spear. “How do you—”

  “You twist it,” I said. “But I don’t think that’ll hold this wall.”

  “Lena promised it would. Besides, we’re out of time.” Chase nodded at my ring. It was finer than a hair, just a tiny shine of metal. He twisted the staff-stump. The shaft zoomed open. Both ends stopped just a few inches from either side of the corridor.

  The gust around my arm petered out. The ring was gone, all used up.

  The wall shot forward. Chase’s arm reached back and kind of scooped me behind him. Sweet, but it wouldn’t stop us from getting crushed.

  With a crack, the staff hit and held. Fractures crackled across both walls.

  As rescues go, this one had some room for improvement. My worries about cave-ins tripled. “That still might not hold.”

  “Better go before we’re squished.” Chase pointed down the hall. “Lena’s casting a strengthening spell on it from over there. Her control is still kind of spotty. Can you walk? If the answer’s no, it’s piggyback ride time.”

  “I can walk.” I didn’t want to be carried. Last time Chase had tried, he’d told me how heavy I was. “Maybe not far, though.”

  “No, not far,” he said softly. He hadn’t turned around yet. I think he was afraid to take his eyes off the two remaining witches. The archer was keeping them busy, firing off so many arrows that the witches couldn’t use their wands for anything more than blasting the missil
es out of the air. “What do you say we tackle those two while we’re at it?” He started forward.

  I followed, just a step behind. “What do you say we keep the shield in place in case they’re bluffing?” I said, not ready to take any more risks. My left arm ached as much as my right leg.

  “Your Tale. Your call,” Chase said, sounding vaguely disappointed, and my chest swelled, suddenly full to bursting. He’d come. He was talking to me.

  We had cleared most of the hall. I tested my sword arm. It was okay. I could handle a brief surprise attack. I put a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “I’ll take the one on the left.”

  Chase nodded. “Now!”

  The witches hadn’t realized we’d gotten so close. When I pounced, Istalina shriek-squawked and stuck her wand in my face. My hilt struck her temple before she could cast anything.

  The one on the right slumped against the floor, bleeding from her hip and her shoulder, and her wand rolled out from between her fingers. Chase didn’t spare her a second glance. He turned down the hall and spoke to the shadows that Rapunzel’s light couldn’t reach. “We’re good, Lena.”

  The booby trap wall slammed against the other side, and then the corridor did cave in. Ice chips rained down. Cold bits invaded my collar. Chase shielded me, his arm around my shoulders again.

  “Oh, thank gumdrops,” Lena called. Footsteps padded down the hall, fast.

  When I looked up, Chase was glaring down at the witches, sword raised like he expected one to jump up and start casting at any second. He didn’t seem to notice that slivers of ice had melted in his hair. Or that his arm was still around me. Or that I was leaning half my weight against him.

  “What are you doing here?” I didn’t mean to say it like an accusation.

  Chase looked genuinely surprised. “You said you needed me.”

  It’s totally possible for a person to be overjoyed and completely exasperated at the same time. After so many years of knowing Chase, I was pretty familiar with the feeling.

  He leaned in, examining my face. His fingers grazed my cheek. “Rory, what happened to you?”

  I probably looked horrible. I shouldn’t have cared about that, especially when he was pretty banged up too. His lip was swollen, and his chin had a huge bruise. “What happened to you?”