A Crown of Snow and Ice: A Retelling of The Snow Queen (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 3)

by Melanie Cellier

  “You did it! You freed Giselle.” He regarded me curiously. “Does that mean you’re learning to control it?”

  My smile turned rueful. “To be honest, I didn’t actually intend to free Giselle. Not ahead of time, anyway. It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing. And it didn’t work at all when I tried it on Emmeline.”

  His face fell. “Yes, Giselle told me about that.”

  I thought of the warmth his presence seemed to spark and the progress I had made on containing it, but I decided against mentioning those. He didn’t need to know everything about my powers.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Clearly the godmothers have given you these powers and sent you here to help us free ourselves. So we need you to learn to control them.”

  I glared at him. “I’m trying!”

  “Well, I was thinking I could help. I know a place where we could go—somewhere private and secluded, where you won’t be able to damage anything if you suddenly start a fire or a tornado or something.”

  I raised both eyebrows. “And you’re going to help me. In this private, secluded spot.” I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  He stared at me for a second and then burst out laughing. “Not like that. I swear. Not that I would be unwilling, of course.” He grinned at me wickedly. “But it isn’t the most practical means to control it.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I forgave you because we were literally going to die otherwise,” I said. “But if you ever try something like that again, I’ll just turn all those ‘powerful emotions’ against you instead of a pile of rocks.”

  He held up both hands. “I promise Princess Celine that I will never kiss you again.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Unless you ask me to, of course.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes I think I liked you better when you were a walking ice block.”

  He just continued to grin, unrepentant, and I shook my head.

  “All right, then. Let’s give this practice thing a try. If you’re certain there’s nothing I can damage, then I guess it can’t do any harm.”

  I made him wait while I ran up and changed my dress, though. I’d already ruined two in Eldon, and I was wearing one of my favorites. When I came back down in my plainest dress—a fine wool gown with intricate embroidery—his eyes laughed at me.

  “Yes,” I said, before he could say anything. “This is my most practical dress. I am a princess, remember?”

  He grinned. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Your eyes did,” I muttered as I stalked past him and out of the huge front doors. He had said I wouldn’t be able to damage anything which meant there was no way we were staying in the palace.

  He caught up within a few steps and directed me up into the mountain city. To my unspoken relief, he made no move to take me back into the tunnels. Instead he led me upward by the most direct route before selecting a small side road. We quickly branched off even the smaller road, taking a steep—and apparently unending—staircase.

  I was puffing slightly—and trying to hide it—by the time he led me sideways off the stair and onto something that looked more like a goat track than a road. I eyed him suspiciously, and he shrugged.

  “Secluded, remember?”

  We followed the track for some time while I tried not to think of the drop off to my left. We weren’t exactly walking along a cliff edge, but it was close enough. The path wound around a large outcropping of rock and then turned sharply. I stopped and blinked.

  Oliver spread his arms wide. “Welcome to my favorite place in the world.”

  I walked forward slowly and spun around so I could take it in. I could see why. Tucked back here, hidden by that outcropping, was a large mountain meadow. The flat space spread well back from the edge of the mountain, ringed by several tall evergreen trees. Soft grass covered the ground, and I even saw a few bright wildflowers—the first I had seen in this not-quite-spring. A burbling sound drew me toward the far side of the meadow where I found a small stream, the mountain water clear and icy cold, but not actually frozen.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said softly.

  “And perfect for what we need.”

  I eyed Oliver uncertainly. “Up until I accidentally burn it down.”

  He seemed undaunted. “This meadow has survived worse than you—I promise.”

  I looked around at the beauty uneasily and then shrugged. I wasn’t likely to find a better spot, and I did need to learn to control my powers.

  I turned back to Oliver. “So what now?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about that. Emotions are key, but it doesn’t seem to matter which ones. So I guess it’s up to you. What emotion do you think you can most effectively conjure at will?”

  “Uhh…” I stared at him blankly.

  He narrowed his eyes at me consideringly. “Anger, maybe?”

  “Hey!” I put my hands on my hips. “Are you saying I’m an angry person?”

  He kept his face straight, but I noticed his lips twitching. “Anger is a strong emotion, that’s all.”

  I walked around in a circle, needing the activity while my mind raced. Could I make myself angry? This beautiful haven didn’t promote anger. My gaze turned upward, to where I could see the higher slopes of the mountain. Snow lay heavy there just as it did in pockets throughout the Eldonian capital. And yet it was well into spring. It should have melted by now, turning that little stream into a strong current.

  I glanced back at Oliver, his expression curious as he watched me silently. The fire in his blue eyes still burned, making his face alive and bright with color. So different from how he had been before. Whatever this enchantment was, it did the worst thing possible—stripping people’s true selves.

  I shivered at the thought and felt something stir within me. It was anger, yes, but also fear. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing myself.

  Burning heat erupted from my chest and surged down my arms. It took me by surprise, but I clenched my hands into fists just in time, holding it inside. Nothing happened, and elation filled me. I’d done it! I’d called it, and I’d controlled it.

  The warmth inside me turned ferocious, and for the first time I felt an uncomfortable burning sensation. I looked around frantically and spotted a large boulder on one edge of the meadow. Striding toward it, I held both fists out in front of me before unfurling my fingers. Pointing them at the stone, I flung all the heat down my arms and through my hands.

  Enormous tongues of flame burst from my fingertips. Unlike in the tunnels, they didn’t cling to me, instead flying through the air and engulfing the boulder.

  “Whoa!” Oliver’s startled exclamation barely made it through the roar of the unnatural fire. For a moment it swirled around the stone, singeing the grass beside it, and then it winked out as quickly as it had appeared.

  I stood, panting, my hands falling slowly back to my sides.

  “Well, that seemed to work. What did you do?” Oliver’s voice approached me from behind, but I shook my head and gestured for him to stay back. I needed space to think, and I didn’t want to end up hurting him by accident.

  I walked toward the boulder and touched it. I could feel searing heat, but when I pulled my fingers away they remained unburned. Interesting. But that fire inside had felt as if it would burn me when I tried to keep it in.

  I closed my eyes and conjured the same emotions, focusing this time on the fear that I might suffer the same fate as the Eldonians. The warmth inside, which had disappeared when it transferred through my fingertips, returned—faster this time and stronger.

  I gripped my hands into fists again, once more holding it inside. But this time I worked, not on containing it, but on calming it. I reminded myself that I was strong. That I could fight. That I wouldn’t let anyone strip my true self away.

  Instead of burning stronger and hotter, it began to fade, growing weaker until it was a mere warmth curling around my belly.
I opened my eyes and glanced around. A tall group of trees stood some distance from me. I looked at them contemplatively.

  Could I use this gentle warmth, or did I need to burn myself to be effective? Whipping my hands up from my sides, I thrust my flat palms toward the trees. At the same moment, I willed the gentle warmth back into a raging inferno.

  It didn’t quite obey me, but it did leap into greater life, and a hot wind rushed from my hands to shake the ancient trunks. It wasn’t exactly a gale, but it had been more than a breeze.

  I turned to Oliver with a triumphant smile on my lips.

  He gazed at me blankly. “Well. That was fast.”

  “What can I say? You’re an excellent teacher.”

  He looked at me skeptically, still in shock apparently, and I spun around, the giddy smile still on my lips. I barely restrained myself from pumping the air with my fists. I did it. Now just let this enchantment come for me. It didn’t know who it was dealing with.

  “So it looks like fingertips are flames and palms are hot air?” Oliver seemed to have recovered from his shock. He squinted his eyes as he glanced around the meadow, as if considering which bit he would most willingly sacrifice. “I wonder how big you could get the flames?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Typical male. I’m more interested in how controlled I can get it.”

  “Yes, I suppose that might be more useful.” He looked a little deflated, and I barely refrained from rolling my eyes again. All three of my brothers—even the calm, sensible ones—would have been the same. If it had been up to them, the whole meadow would have been gone in some kind of flash forest fire.

  “In that case,” said Oliver. “Can you do the little flames on your fingers thing? Like you did in the tunnel? It didn’t seem to burn you…” He waited for my nod of agreement. “So, I wonder how long you could keep it up for.”

  I frowned and bit my lip. Sustained power. That wasn’t something I had managed yet. I wanted to be allowed to bask in my success for a moment longer, but curiosity soon overwhelmed me. Could I do it?

  I pushed up both sleeves. Neither the wind nor the fire seemed to harm me, but the wind had whipped my skirts around in the past, and I didn’t want to end up with a burning dress.

  Holding my hands extended in front of me, I kept them initially balled into fists. I thought back to waking Giselle in the display room. I suspected that I needed a more gentle emotion for a smaller, sustained use of my power.

  Unfortunately, gentle wasn’t really my thing.

  My mind flitted over Emmeline and the others I had met at the palace and then traveled back to the woods. I recalled Cassandra’s tight grip around my waist, and the lurking desperation at the back of her eyes. She exuded confidence, but she was still only thirteen.

  Compassion and sadness gripped me, along with a determination not to let her down. This time the sensation inside me was more like hot coals than a live flame. I directed it down my arms as I slowly unfurled my fingers, aiming them all upward in bent claws.

  A flicker of light on one finger was followed by another, and then all ten burst suddenly into flame. I stumbled back, and they instantly went out.

  “Try again,” said Oliver, his voice encouraging, but I barely heard him. My focus had returned inward.

  The coals were still there, banked, not extinguished, and I quickly brought them back to stronger heat. This time, when the flames appeared, I held steady, ready for it. The tongues flickered a little and then settled, burning brightly.

  I looked up at Oliver and found him inching closer to me, clearly fascinated.

  “It really doesn’t hurt you at all?”

  I shook my head.

  “Does it even feel hot?”

  I considered my answer. “Yes—and no. I can feel that the heat is there, but it isn’t unpleasant like it normally would be. It doesn’t burn me.”

  Before I could stop him, he reached out a hand and stuck his fingers into the flames sprouting from my closest hand. I gasped and jumped backward, the fire going out at the same moment as he exclaimed and stuck his fingers into his mouth.

  “Ouch! That burned.”

  “Of course it burned! Idiot! It’s fire.”

  “Well, it wasn’t burning you. I was curious.”

  “Of course you were,” I muttered, holding out my hands in a demand that he show me his fingers.

  Reluctantly he pulled them out of his mouth and laid them in my open palms. I examined them, conscious of the strength in his hands and the calluses that told me he spent a lot of time training with various weapons. At least they didn’t look seriously burned.

  “Do not try that again,” I told him firmly, releasing his hands abruptly when I felt a coil of now familiar warmth in my chest.

  “I won’t.” He grinned at me, unrepentant. “I’ve learned my lesson, I promise.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him but then turned away, my mind already elsewhere. The warmth I now felt burned quietly, under control—or so it seemed. How long could I keep it burning there without letting it out? And how much attention did I need to give it to keep it from extinguishing?

  Glancing speculatively back at Oliver, I picked up my skirts and fled across the grass. “Catch me if you can,” I called back over my shoulder. If this was going to be a true test, I needed to be distracted by something else while I tried to keep it burning.

  After a surprised pause, Oliver took off after me. His longer stride meant he was soon closing the distance, so I aimed for some trees, weaving in and out of their trunks. With a sudden spurt, I twisted out of his sight behind a particularly dense group of trunks and ducked off to the side, crouching behind a large boulder.

  I tried to still my breathing, pressing a hand against my chest. Yes, the warmth still burned, but faintly. It was going out. I coaxed it back to life, careful not to allow it to grow too strong.

  The effort distracted me, so that I startled and shrieked when Oliver jumped around the boulder. Briefly the coals inside burst into open flames, but I clamped down on them hard, ducking under his arm and taking off running again.

  With a playful growl he raced close behind me, and I threw myself forward, going as fast as I possibly could. It felt good to stretch my legs and run without purpose after all the worrying.

  Still, he was catching me when my foot caught on a small stone hidden in the grass, and I tipped forward. Oliver lunged after me, trying to catch me, but instead we both went down, rolling over before landing flat in the grass.

  It took a moment for me to catch my breath, and then I was laughing. My uncontrollable giggles went on and on, as my overburdened emotions finally found an outlet.

  Oliver’s deeper chuckle sounded in my ear, and then I suddenly realized that we had fallen almost on top of each other, my skirts tangled in his legs. His chuckles softened, and he pushed himself up on one elbow, looking down into my eyes. I thought he would speak, but instead he swayed down toward me, until our faces felt far too close. He paused there, his eyes asking me a question. But he didn’t speak, the moment drawing out between us so taut as to be almost painful.

  I realized he was staying true to his earlier word—the question needed to come from me, not him. But I found I had no breath—and no idea what I wanted to say. I had never seen the blue fire in his eyes burn so strongly, and suddenly the coals that had been simmering inside me all this time leaped in response. The unleashed inferno felt as if it would melt my insides like wax.

  Gasping, I rolled away from him and thrust my hands blindly out to my side. My hands were neither flat, nor pointed, and the wind that leaped from my hands and rushed across the meadow carried actual tongues of flames with it. It hit the trees on the far side with enough force to bend them sideways, the fire dancing around them, but thankfully not actually catching alight.

  I breathed a sigh of relief just as a piercing scream echoed across the open space.

  Chapter 12

  Both Oliver and I scrambled to our feet and took off running in the d
irection of the sound. Dread filled my stomach. If someone had been over there, they would have received the brunt of both my wind and fire.

  A short figure stumbled out of the cover of the trees, and my relieved brain noted that she didn’t appear to have any burns. A moment later I realized I recognized her.

  Giselle.

  Oliver reached her first, gripping her by the shoulders and inspecting her for injury. When he started berating her, I breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t be doing that if she was hurt.

  “What did you think you were doing?” he demanded. His voice sounded stern, but she looked entirely undaunted.

  “I was spying on you, of course. What do you think I was doing?”

  Even I raised an eyebrow, impressed at her pluck. I could see why Oliver had said he wished I could meet her. She reminded me of my younger self.

  “You could have been injured—badly!” Oliver now sounded more resigned than angry.

  Giselle ignored him completely, her attention turned to me. “You told me you had power to release people from the enchantment. Not that you could shoot fire from your hands.”

  I shrugged. “I’m still working on that part. That’s why we’re out here.”

  “Well, it looked pretty impressive. I want to see it closer up.”

  I looked over at Oliver, and he shrugged helplessly.

  “All right,” I said. “But no more hiding. I don’t want to singe your hair off.”

  “No, indeed.” She patted her pale blond locks.

  I eyed them. “Although it might be worth it, just to see if it would get a reaction from Emmeline.”

  She gasped and clutched at her hair. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Relax, sis,” said Oliver. “She’s teasing you.”

  Giselle glared at me before moving a few feet away. “Well, come on then. Let’s see these impressive powers.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  The fear from when I heard her scream remained close enough to the surface that I easily whipped my internal heat to a raging bonfire. When it began to grow uncomfortable, I swung my hands in front of me, clapping them together, and pointing all of my fingers toward a rock at the base of the trees.