by Alex Bell
There was another awkward silence, during which the lights were turned on. It was not yet fully dark but the sky was a dusky grey and suddenly the Ice Hotel was lit up, sparkling with a hundred tiny golden lights, as if dressed in the gossamer cloak of a majestic queen. At the same time, the lights in the Winter Garden also came on, bringing splashes of colour to the previously pale ice so that each exquisite sculpture glowed in a bright pool of pink or blue or green or orange.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ I breathed.
‘Let’s walk around it,’ Ben said, already striding towards it so that I had no choice but to follow.
Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help being captivated by the Ice Hotel. Even from the small part of it that I had seen I could tell that it was every bit as magical as I had thought it would be. I’d never seen anything so lovely in my life. As someone who’s been to both I can say - with authority - that the Ice Hotel is more enchanting even than faeryland itself.
‘I’m sorry about your Violectra,’ Ben said - the sentence coming out in a rush as soon as our feet crunched on the white-pebbled path that wound through the garden. ‘I thought the swansong might have been inside it. That’s why I broke it. Even though it didn’t make any noise at night ... I thought perhaps Liam had found a way to stop that. The way the black roses turned up inside the case and the fact that the horse wrote the street name on the surface ... It seemed the perfect hiding place because Liam knew you loved it so much and always had it with you. I’m sorry. I hated doing it, but I really thought the swansong might have been inside.’
‘It’s okay,’ I replied. ‘I understand.’
‘I left you there in Germany because I knew you would never be persuaded to trust me again after that. Then I got a phone call from Jaxon saying I should come to Paris because he was sure he’d found the swansong. I thought you would be safe in Bavaria but I asked Lukas to stay behind and keep an eye on you just in case.’
I nodded but couldn’t think of anything to say. I found that I hardly cared about what had already happened - it was what was going to happen next that concerned me. The snowsuits, hats and gloves kept us warm enough in the frosty air and we walked for a little while in silence, keeping in step with each other but not touching. I wanted so much to take Ben’s hand but I knew if I tried to touch him he would shrink away from me. Eventually we came to the most stunning ice sculpture yet. It was a life-size unicorn lying down in the snow - a proper one, not a mere horse with a horn on its head, but a magical creature from faeryland itself, almost as if whoever had sculpted it had been there too and knew what it was like. There was a bench nearby, set beneath one of the old-fashioned wrought-iron black lamp posts that reminded me forcibly of the mythical land of Narnia.
‘Let’s sit down for a minute,’ I said. I was tired and hungry and wondered what time it was back in France. Or Germany. Or whatever country my internal clock was still wired to. When had I last slept? Or eaten, for that matter ... I didn’t feel like talking any more. It was too hard and too painful. And I didn’t want to break the soft tranquillity that was here in the garden. But there were still things I had to know. So I drew a deep breath, summoned up my courage and, a moment later, said quietly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me what was going on with Liam in Germany? We spoke on the phone all the time. Why didn’t you ever mention it? You must have known I would have believed anything you told me.’
Ben was silent on the bench beside me for a moment before saying, ‘Partly because I was ashamed of him.’ He kept his eyes fixed on the unicorn carved out of ice before us and went on in an emotionless voice, ‘We said we were going to have children one day, but there was something very wrong with Liam. There always was. And I thought you might worry that it was genetic. But mostly I didn’t say anything because I thought it was under control and every time I spoke to you, you were so excited about the wedding plans. I didn’t want anything to spoil it.’
As if on cue, there were the sounds of clapping behind us and when we twisted around on the bench we could see a wedding party through the branches of the ice trees. They were posing for photos outside the hotel. The bride must have been cold even though she was wearing a beautiful fur-edged winter wedding dress. But if she was she didn’t let it show. Instead she just looked gloriously happy. I remembered then that there was a wedding chapel in the Ice Hotel. A sudden, irresistible longing struck me and I must not have been thinking straight for I turned back to Ben and said, ‘Let’s get married! Let’s just go and do it right now!’
He frowned at me. ‘You can’t possibly be serious.’
‘Something went wrong - well, let’s fix it! Please, Ben, let’s just go and put it right!’
‘Jasmyn,’ Ben said quietly. ‘Surely you must realise that isn’t possible. We can’t just pretend none of this ever happened.’
‘Why not?’ I said desperately. ‘Why can’t we do that? There’s no enchantment now. We’re free to be together as we should have been from the start.’
Ben turned his gaze away from me and back to the unicorn. ‘For more than a year I thought of nothing but finding the swansong and breaking the enchantment,’ he said in a flat voice. ‘I dreamt of finding you again and putting everything back to the way it should have been. But now ... It’s too late, Jaz. It took too long to find it. Too much has happened since then.’
‘Ben—’ I began pleadingly, but he interrupted me.
‘You were his wife for a year. How can either of us pretend that didn’t happen? You shared his house, his life ... his bed ... ’
I cringed and felt the colour rising to my cheeks. I shuddered now at the very thought of Liam touching me. But as far as I’d been concerned at the time, we were married, he was my husband and I loved him. I only thanked God now that when he’d wanted to start trying to have children I had insisted that we needed more money saved before we could even think about it. I had thought it out of character at the time for Ben had always been the more cautious one of us when it came to money. I had assumed it was just because he was excited at the thought of having a family, not because he wasn’t Ben at all.
‘You can’t blame me for that! I can’t believe you’re even bringing it up!’ I hastily blinked back the tears filling my eyes for - despite my words - I felt so full of shame that it was as if it might break me apart from the inside. ‘I thought he was you! I didn’t know what I was doing!’
‘Listen,’ Ben said, turning towards me at once and taking my gloved hands, looking right into my eyes as he went on earnestly, ‘Listen to me, Jaz. I never have - and never will - blame you.
What happened was not your fault. That’s not what I’m saying. But it still happened and we can’t pretend that it didn’t.’
I knew that he was right. After all - this was the real world now. Hurt and pain didn’t dissolve into nothingness just because you wanted them to. Ben and I were not the same people we had been before all this began and the fact that neither one of us was really at fault didn’t change that. But I wanted him anyway. Even after everything that had happened I wanted him back so badly that it was like a physical ache in my soul. I wanted to ask if he still loved me but couldn’t summon the courage. If he said no I was afraid I might shatter on the spot, like an ice sculpture smashed by a sledgehammer into a thousand heartbroken pieces.
I couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face. I tried to hide them from Ben, turning my head and keeping my eyes glued to the unicorn in front of me like my life depended on it, even though I was no longer even seeing it. But he noticed at once and moved closer to me on the bench.
‘Please don’t cry, Jaz,’ he said quietly, as he pulled me to him and put his arms around me. ‘This is rock bottom. It’ll get better from here. I promise.’
Sobs rose up in my throat and - although I tried - I couldn’t keep them inside. All my self-control was gone; broken and stripped away, leaving me defenceless and vulnerable. I couldn’t have pulled away from him even if I’d wanted to. All I could do was
bury my face in his arms and weep.
‘Please don’t leave me, Ben!’ I sobbed. ‘I don’t think I could bear it if you did!’
He sighed. ‘We’re not together any more, Jaz. We haven’t been for over a year now.’
He spoke quietly without a hint of anger or blame but, even so, his words were like a kick in the stomach. I was dimly aware of the sounds of laughter and happy voices coming from the wedding party at the front of the Ice Hotel and it was like having a heart full of needles. Finally, they all went back inside and it was quiet once again. Ben rested his chin on the top of my head and waited for me to stop crying before drawing me to my feet.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go inside and get something to eat.’
‘I don’t want anything to eat,’ I said, my voice hoarse from the effort of trying to retain control of it. ‘I just want to go to sleep.’
I suddenly found myself wishing we were at a normal hotel. I was cold and desperately miserable. I didn’t want ice and snow and cool light. I wanted warmth and brightness and a soft, comfortable bed to curl up in.
‘You really should eat something, Jasmyn,’ Ben began, looking upset, but I pulled away from him, shaking my head.
‘No, no, I’m not hungry,’ I said. ‘Not at all. All I want is to go to bed. Please, Ben, don’t argue with me about it. I just want to go back to the room.’
‘All right,’ he said softly. ‘All right. I’ll take you back.’
We turned away from the reclining unicorn and trudged out of the Winter Garden. A spectacular ice dragon guarded the exit but I hardly spared it a glance for all that it must have been an incredible thirty feet long and lounged in the snow with a lizard-like grace. It hardly felt any warmer inside the hotel than out and I was only dimly aware of other guests in the foyer, laughing and enjoying themselves, and the music that was coming from somewhere close by.
Ben unlocked our room upstairs and when I went in I saw that someone had lit all the candles in the little nooks and ledges carved into the ice. The room flickered with soft, soothing candlelight. Without a word I got straight into the sleeping bag on the bed in the far corner. I knew I should say something to Ben to reassure him that I was okay and to minimise the awkwardness that would be there in the morning but I simply didn’t have the energy.
‘I’ll be right back after I get something to eat,’ Ben said from the doorway. He paused, then added, ‘I’ll bring some food up for you in case you change your mind.’
I nodded but my face was turned away from him and I was buried in the sleeping bag, so I didn’t know if he’d seen my response or not. In another moment he was gone. I’d hoped sleep would come quickly - I couldn’t remember ever being this tired before in my life. But as soon as the thick door of ice was closed and I was alone in the cool, candlelit room, fresh sobs rose up in my throat so that I could hardly breathe beneath the onslaught of them.
Hunger growled in my stomach and I wished I had had something to eat before going to bed, but I knew there was no way I could possibly have sat at a table in a restaurant with Ben, surrounded by normal, happy people enjoying themselves on holiday. I didn’t want noise or people or light. I just wanted quiet and darkness and to never see another living person ever again as long as I lived.
24
Evacuation
I was woken up the next morning by one of the igloo guides putting a tray of hot cranberry juice on the ice table between the two beds. I knew this was the customary way guests at the Ice Hotel were greeted in the morning but it took me a moment to remember where I was. I had not slept at all well, for I had been plagued with a repeating dream that just went round and round in a cycle - exactly like my dreams in the weeks after Liam died. Only, this time, I kept dreaming that I was woken by Ben on his return to our room. He would gather me up in his arms, bury his face in my hair and tell me - over and over again - to forget what he had said earlier, that he still loved me, that he always would, that it was not too late for us and that now we could be together forever. Sweet relief and happiness would fill me, but then some part of me would dimly realise that I was dreaming - that this was not real. But as soon as I worked that out, the dream would start all over again ... This time I really was awake and Ben really was there ...
I had cried myself to sleep before Ben returned to the room last night but, when the igloo guide woke me with the hot drinks the next morning, I looked over and saw that he was in the other bed, already sitting up, still wrapped up in his snowsuit and sleeping bag like I was. He thanked the smiling igloo guide who then left, drawing the ice door closed behind her. I was cold and aware that my hair hadn’t been brushed so I grabbed the hat that I had discarded the night before and rammed it back on my head, fully aware as I did so that this was a ludicrous time and place for vanity.
‘Did you sleep okay?’ Ben asked. He was trying to sound normal but I could hear the anxiety in his voice - as if he thought I might snap at him for talking to me.
‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘I slept fine. Did you?’
‘Yes,’ Ben said, but I suspected that he was lying too.
I reached out for one of the mugs of cranberry juice and took a sip, feeling the hot, sweet liquid slide down my throat, warming me a little. We drank in silence as cool morning light filtered through the window and sparkled off the ice in the room. Although I hadn’t slept well, I found I felt a lot better that morning and was annoyed with myself for falling to pieces the night before. There had just been so much to take in, in such a short amount of time, that it had been overwhelming. Now I’d had time to adjust to the initial shock, I could see things for what they truly were. And I was convinced that things were not as bad between Ben and me as I had initially thought.
He was still upset and I couldn’t blame him. But he hadn’t said he didn’t love me any more. He’d told me it was too late to try to mend things between us but I didn’t believe him. He hadn’t taken off his engagement ring - it was still there on his finger. He’d spent more than a year of his life, and all the money he had, trying to find the swansong and lift the enchantment. Why do that if you weren’t still in love with someone? He could have just given up and left me. Instead he turned himself into a knight even though he knew he’d have to endure those awful transformations with bones breaking and feathers ripping through his skin. He still loved me, he had to. I could not - would not - believe that it was too late.
‘What happened to the blood?’ I asked, looking down at the snow on the floor and remembering how blood had splattered across it during Ben’s transformation the day before.
‘What?’ he said, looking blank.
I gestured at the floor. ‘Yesterday,’ I said. ‘There was blood on the floor.’
‘Oh. I took some clean snow from the hallway to cover it up before I went down to meet you,’ he said. Then he added, ‘Shall we go down and get some breakfast?’
I nodded, putting my now empty mug down on the table. Ben did the same then said after a brief hesitation, ‘We’re going to have to talk about ... where we go from here.’
‘I know,’ I replied as I struggled out of the sleeping bag and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Hastily, I drew them back up as my feet trailed in the snow, the freezing air making my toes numb already. It was time to start a new day of difficult conversations and hard truths. Still, at least it couldn’t possibly be any worse than yesterday ... Or so I thought. As I sat at the edge of the bed and pulled on my warm, thick boots, I had not the faintest inkling of just how horrific that day was actually going to be.
Ben was a little worried that Lukas hadn’t returned yet as he had expected him to be there when we went down to the restaurant but I found it difficult to feel too worried about him when I knew him to be practically indestructible, and with a magical horse to boot.
We ate breakfast from plates made of ice. I wasn’t sure if Ben regretted what he’d said last night or if he merely felt guilty about upsetting me, but he seemed especially attentive that morning, brin
ging me coffee, insisting that I take the seat by the window and asking if there was anything else I wanted from the buffet table.
‘I’m fine,’ I replied. I was eager to eat my meal before anything upsetting could happen to make me lose my appetite once again so, in an attempt to keep the conversation relatively neutral, I said, ‘Why are we here at the Ice Hotel anyway?’
‘Lukas was able to get us a room because he knows one of the managers. Apparently the man has some werewolf blood in him or something. Anyway - the Ice Hotel is convenient because it’s built on the edge of faeryland.’
‘It is?’
Ben nodded. ‘Every year. It doesn’t matter if it’s physically in a slightly different location - wherever it’s built will always be on the boundary of faeryland. Lukas said it’s because the magical races are all fascinated by the hotel. It’s an enigma to them that it’s built by humans. They think something like this should be in their realm, so they hover around it. The only thing stopping them from claiming it as their own is the concentrated human presence here.’
After we’d eaten, we took paper cups of coffee to drink outside for it was - surprisingly - actually warmer out there than inside now that the sun had come up. It was one of the peculiarities of the Ice Hotel’s design that it always stayed around minus five degrees inside whether the outside temperature sank as low as minus forty or rose as high as plus five.
We walked out and saw several ornate sleighs with polished brass bells attached to the harnesses, waiting outside by the front doors. They were not pulled by horses but by reindeer. I’d never seen a real one up close before and they were not quite what I had expected. Their large antlers were velvety soft to the touch, covered in fine, smooth hair, and they had large, liquid brown eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes. When the handler said they were tame and could be stroked, I took one of my gloves off and ran a hand down the nearest reindeer’s back, amazed by how soft its coat was - not at all coarse or weather-beaten as I would have expected.