***
Ornery touched his foot on the other side of the chasm. Making sure that the footing was solid, he shifted his weight. Carefully, Ornery helped Miss Emmert onto the ledge. They had crossed safely, but it had cost them a great deal of time. The Griffin had long-since disappeared through the threshold.
“Ornery, you must listen to me,” Miss Emmert said, her tone serious as she dusted off the ice from her dress. “We must use any means possible to halt Glacial’s blood from reaching the Icy Throne.”
Ornery nodded and started to walk away, but his mother held his arm.
“Child, I mean, any way possible. If that means throwing Glacial from the tallest spire before they can reclaim her, that is what we must do.”
“I am not a child any longer, mother. I will not allow her blood to be spilt,” Ornery answered as he strode away from Miss Emmert. It wounded his heart, but the boy knew that he could do the deed if necessary.
They both stopped in front of the glittering threshold that Glacial had been whisked through. The doorway was opaque, hiding the next room’s contents. The Griffin could be lying in wait on the other side. Ornery directed his mind and transformed his hands into sharp hooves. Silently, he nodded to his mother.
Together, they stepped over the threshold. A blast of frosty air slapped them across the face.
The next room was so large that it could not rightfully be called a room. It was a long hall. So long that you could not make out the end. In the center was the Icy Throne itself. It was so silver that you almost believed it was made of pure shine. A raised altar stood just a few steps behind the Throne. Hanging over the altar was the Spiral Vortex.
It looked much like Corpse had described. It was both so beautiful and horrible that it hurt your eyes just to gaze upon its swirling surface. A fierce wind blew out of the snowy ingress. The Griffin was nowhere to be found, but Glacial was bound to the altar, half-naked. Ornery moved to run forward, but Miss Emmert held him back.
“It is an illusion,” she whispered. “Use your equine senses. Animals are not so easily foiled by glamours.”
Extending his senses, Ornery realized his mother was right. The deception could fool his human eyes, but not his Centaur heritage. “Is it a trap?”
Miss Emmert carefully walked around the edge of the room. As they neared the Spiral Vortex, Ornery found a huge shaft in the center of the room that plummeted beyond view. If he had run straight across, he would be dead now.
His mother explained, “This is just the antechamber. The real Throne lies somewhere beyond this room.”
Following the curved wall, they arrived at another threshold. Carefully, they passed through the doorway, only to find themselves in a room exactly like the one they had just left. It had the same illusionary Icy Throne and central shaft.
Ornery looked to Miss Emmert, who frowned as she spoke. “It is a Mirror Loop. There must be another hidden exit.”
The boy focused so hard with his eyes that his head felt near to bursting. No matter how hard he looked, he could find no other flaws in the icy walls. Feeling defeated, Ornery turned to his mother.
“What shall we do?”
“There is a spell... It might work.” Her voiced sounded far more doubtful than her words. Ornery did not want his mother to expend herself any further unless it was absolutely necessary.
“Save your magick, Mother. There must be a key to this puzzle. Is there no legend that discussed this room?”
Miss Emmert’s brow crinkled. “There is one.” The woman shook her head. “But it regards the White Wolf.”
“What is it?” Ornery asked, desperate to find a way that did not tax his mother’s limited stamina. Even now, she nearly panted at the exertion of simply walking around the antechamber.
“Ornery, it is vague. It just describes Pale as ‘sniffing’ out the true door.”
Sniff? Ornery raised his nose and flared his nostrils. His senses certainly were not as acute as the wolf’s, but they were far more advanced than Miss Emmert’s. Pouring all his concentration into his nose, Ornery sampled the air. The ice smelled clean and sharp in his nose. The scent was so pure that it burned his tender membranes.
Leaning close to the wall, he followed its path, his nose but inches from the icy partition. He sniffed around the threshold and found that it smelled no different than the walls. There were one and the same.
Obviously, his mother and Ornery’s crossing of the threshold was nothing but an optical illusion. They had never left the same room.
Ornery smiled. With his Centaur senses he did not necessarily need his mother’s magick. Carefully, he scanned the wall — inch by inch. He could feel Miss Emmert’s tension, but she made no effort to hurry his progress, nor did she advance another strategy. It felt strange to have his mother rely on him like this. Ornery truly felt that he was his father’s son now.
“It is here!” he blurted. The smell was so subtle he had almost missed it. Ornery placed his hand on the solid-looking ice, only to have it vanish. Miss Emmert stepped up and tested the area. The space was about the same size as the other doorway. They gave each other one last look before striding through together.
Once through, they were both startled by a young girl’s voice. “I was wondering when you’d finally get here.”
A beautiful blonde girl sat upon the silver throne, her feet thrown over the arm of the chair. She twirled a small whip in her gloved hand. The room was very similar to the antechamber but somehow was so much more real. Now that they had witness the full glory of the throne room, they could never again mistake the antechamber for anything but the sham that it was.
Beneath the Winter Vortex was Glacial. The Ice Princess was crumpled upon the altar. Blood smeared her face, and black hair was matted to her head. Even from this distance it was obvious she had been beaten, severely. Ornery winced in sympathy. Even if she survived this ordeal, her beautiful features would never be the same.
Miss Emmert cautiously edged around the room, wary of the blonde stranger.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who is very annoyed by all the delays.”
Ornery followed his mother and made certain that there was no chasm in the floor as they crossed to the altar. The Vortex hanging behind the Throne was something akin to a living creature. It pulsed and flowed. Faintly, behind the glistening facade, Ornery swore he could make out a wintry scene. Was that a glimpse of the Winter King himself?
“The Bride was not enough?” Miss Emmert was obviously as confused as Ornery. The Ice Princess’s blood was supposed to open the Vortex. Why had it not?
The blonde seemed equally perturbed about the situation. “I told them to wait until the Conclave assembled, but they would not listen.” The girl toyed with her curls. “The Griffins are majestic but not too bright. Luckily, they allowed me to test the Vortex with just a bit of the Princess’s blood. As you can see, we’re all still here.”
An intense dislike of this girl and her attitude was forming in Ornery’s heart. She smelled funny too. But his concern was for the Ice Princess. Glacial looked so forlorn that his heart actually ached for the Princess. He would give anything right now to have her awaken and pester him about Centaur history.
The blonde girl casually swung her limbs back over the side of the Throne and clapped her hands. “I was hoping you would deliver the Snowy Maiden to me, but there again you failed miserably.”
Two Griffins emerged from the shadows, growling and swishing their tails. Ornery automatically reformed his hands into weapons, but Miss Emmert put a restraining hand on his arm and shook her head.
“Now is not the time,” she whispered.
The blonde girl giggled lightly. “Nay. Your mother wishes for you to wait until all is assembled before making her strike. She is very wise, you know.”
Miss Emmert took a few steps towards Glacial. The blonde girl stepped out of his mother’s way.
“By all means, Sele. Tend to the Giant. I might need her yet.”
Annoyance crept over the blonde’s face. However, and she tapped her foot on the icy floor. “This is taking the others far too long. That Crystalia, she certainly knows how to loiter,” the blonde said as she headed to the exit. In a deeper voice, she spoke to the Griffin. “Keep them safe until I return.”
Ornery cautiously followed his mother to the Ice Princess but kept an eye on the Griffins. The beasts barely seemed restrained now. What were the creatures going to do when the girl left the room? His attention was distracted as Glacial moaned when Miss Emmert rolled the Princess over. Ornery winced to see her face so black and blue. One whole eye was swollen over. The Princess could not even open it. Glacial’s lips were so cracked that she could barely speak.
“Ornery?” the Ice Princess managed to croak out.
Miss Emmert urged him to Glacial’s side. Instinctively, Ornery picked up the Ice Princess’s hand, “Yes, Glacial. Please try to rest.”
“I dreamt you came to me.” It looked like she tried to smile, but with all the caked blood it was impossible to be sure. Her sole open eye moved to his mother. “Why are they doing this? The Winter King will never want me now.”
Miss Emmert soothed the Princess and adopted the tone she had used so many times with Ornery when he was sick in bed. “Do not fret, sweetness. They have no desire to make you The Bride, only to open the Vortex.”
Glacial’s tongue tried to wet her lips, but she flinched from the pain. Miss Emmert scraped some ice from the floor and dampened the girl’s lips, then dribbled some into the Princess’s mouth.
“Ornery is right. You must rest. You must be strong for our escape.”
Ornery knew Miss Emmert was being overly optimistic, but he did not care. He liked the thought of leaving this place. Before Ornery was too busy and too occupied to notice how thin the air was. A breath of it barely seemed to fill your lungs. And the cold. It went bone deep. All the walls, ceiling, and floor were pure ice — cold and unforgiving.
“I am no longer The Bride anymore, am I?” Glacial asked.
“Shh, child. Do not worry of such —”
The Ice Princess gripped Ornery’s hand much tighter. She drew herself into a sitting position. “I am free to choose my own betrothed?”
Miss Emmert smiled, but her concern for the Princess’s future could not be hidden. “Yes, Glacial. You are released from your vow to the Winter King.”
Glacial fell back down and sighed, “I am free.”
Ornery gave the Princess’s hand a squeeze, but she did not return the gesture. Panicked, he looked to his mother. Miss Emmert frowned.
“She lives, but I do not know if she will awaken.”
Settling down next to Glacial, Ornery moved a few matted hairs away from the Princess’s brow. A gash longer than his finger crossed her forehead. What had these beasts done to her? In that moment, Ornery vowed to make them pay. To make them pay for every life they had taken, every life they had destroyed.
***
Holt fought the wind at every turn. Clouds collided with one another and boomed their anger. Finally, he could make out the towering blue-white Citadel. Ekoli urged him to land near the base. Alighting near a large fissure in the wall, Holt set down the goddess. The moment that he had dreaded all night was at hand.
It was his family that was in danger, not Ekoli’s. There was no reason the goddess should risk her life.
“I want you to stay here. I will be back for you.”
Ekoli graced him with a warm smile and a light kiss on the lips. “I must accompany you, m’love. I know secrets of the Icy Throne that no other could fathom.”
Holt was not easily dissuaded. “Tell them to me. I will not have you at risk. Especially, not if you might be... might be carrying our child.”
Unconsciously, the goddess hand rubbed at her abdomen and she frowned. “I must ensure a warm and receptive world awaits any child of ours.”
“Please, I beg of you. Stay.”
Ekoli did not answer. Instead, she pulled him against her and kissed him deeply. By the time the goddess released him, Holt was nearly out of breath. She grasped his hand and began walking towards the crack in the wall.
“We go together.”
In his current state, Holt was in no shape to argue. He followed his love into the fissure.
Within a dozen steps they found a steep staircase. Taking her back into his arms, Holt took wing again. He caressed her tenderly as they rapidly ascended the stairwell, taking each moment of comfort he could scrounge.
Once near the Icy Throne, there would be little time for love.
It would be time for war.
***
Traven fought the urge to just rush forward. This slow crawl through the hallway was driving him mad. To have dozens of enemy pressed so close was unnerving. His hand burned to raise his sword and just start hacking away, but he did not. That ploy had not worked too well in the staircase and certainly was not the strategy of choice here.
No, at least Crystalia’s ruse had gotten them this much closer to the Icy Throne. There would be a battle with these Knights. This much Traven was sure of. In each of the tales, unerringly, they fought the Frigid Knights, and the battle occurred in the Throne Room itself as the Ice Princess was sacrificed. All these details the Hero knew from Granny. It was just the outcome that was in question.
Glancing towards Crystalia, Traven felt a pang of concern. The girl would not like her role in all of this. The Icy Throne was where the Snowy Maiden was prophesized to be gravely injured. If The Man Who Did Not Know and The Hanged Man were successful against the Winter King, they would snatch the injured Maiden and flee down the mountain, sailing away on a ship. It was on the rough seas where the Snowy Maiden succumbed. So even if they won against the Winter King and his minions, Crystalia would die for their efforts.
But the Fates had been kind to Traven, in a bizarre fashion. A part of him had truly died at the Gullet. The young boy with grandiose ideas and boundless passion was gone forever. In its place stood a man who knew when Fate had him by the throat. Traven looked at the Snowy Maiden again. Her hair was quite the mess, and her face was streaked with tears, but still she strode forward. He wondered if the Fates were feeling generous, if Crystalia would survive this ordeal. And if she did, what would she have to sacrifice? What part of her would die in the process?
***
Crystalia cringed as she raised Corpse’s dismembered hand even higher. The further into the Citadel they got, the more Knights had gathered around. She felt like a little girl holding a cupcake away from nanny goats. The Frigid Knights were drawn to her and swarmed about. Traven and Pale kept the damned creatures back, but their bodies still pressed the group tightly together. The going was slow, and she feared they might be too late. Besides, what was she going to do with all of them once she reached the Icy Throne?
A gong sounded, ringing off the walls and echoing repeatedly. The Frigid Knights milled, then broke. Crystalia looked around at her companions, but none seemed to know what was happening either. Traven’s sword was raised, but the Knights offered no aggression. They just melted away. The leader of the group gripped Crystalia’s wrist tightly with his frozen hand. “Do not forget your promise, Snowy Maiden.”
Before she could respond, he, too, was gone. For a moment, everyone stood perfectly still, too stunned by the Knights’ departure to move. All at once they surged ahead, not trusting this turn of luck.
“Pale is certain that Glacial lies up ahead!” Traven shouted.
The ice hallway took numerous turns, and at each corner they had to slow and check the corridor for any sign of the enemy. It took them running into several blockades to realize they were in a maze.
“The Winter King is not the most hospitable host.” Corpse indicated towards the bare ice walls as he said, “And he could use a few tips on decorating.”
“Shh!” Traven hissed. “I heard a cry.”
Once the hallway was silent, Crystalia could hear it too. Following after Traven, they foun
d one of the many small side chambers. The rest had been empty, but this one contained a young girl chained to the wall. The blonde captive raised her face, sobbing.
“Viola!” Crystalia shouted as she ran towards her friend. Traven’s arm restrained her, though. The girl jerked from his grip. “Hero, this is my friend, you met her in Last Hitch.”
“How did you get here?” Traven asked as Pale growled.
The girl could barely speak she was so beside herself. “After you left, the entire town was slaughtered. I was kidnapped by these great big beasts with wings.”
Crystalia pushed past the Hero and kneeled by her friend. She tugged on Viola’s restraints. “Can you open these?”
Traven sounded skeptical. “I think we best —”
“Can you not see? It is just like Glacial! Now find a way to open these manacles.” Crystalia glared at Traven. How could he be so insensitive? Guilt throbbed in her heart. She was certain that her poor friend had been kidnapped because of the Snowy Maiden.
“My father?” Crystalia asked.
Viola began to sob hysterically, “Dead, everyone dead.”
Crystalia fought tears. It seemed unreal to think of her father gone. The concept was almost too abstract to really touch her heart.
Traven came near and held out his hand. “Give me back my knife, and I will unlock her.”
For some reason, Crystalia was loath to release the blade back to its owner. She rose to consult with the Hero when Viola gave out a scream. Crystalia turned and realized that she still had Corpse’s hand in her grasp. Shoving the dismembered organ at the dead man, Crystalia said, “Take it.”
Corpse backed away. “Where am I going to put it?”
Crystalia tried to foist the hand at the dead man, but he pushed it back. “Put it in your pocket or something. We might need it later.” Corpse indicated over his shoulder, indicating toward the still at-large Frigid Knights.
7 Folds of Winter Page 50