Ice Queen

by Candace Wondrak

  And—she looked down at her own body—she wore a silver, sparkling dress, jewels etched into its length and its sleeves. No gloves, though. Her hands and her toes were free.

  Odd…

  She slid herself off the bed, moving to leave the room, to find the guys and ask what had happened, how she’d gotten here, but something glimmering caught her eye. Frost stopped and turned her head, noticing a large, round mirror hanging on the wall opposite her bed.

  Make that doubly odd, for Frost could not recall that mirror hanging there before.

  Frost found her feet moving toward it, almost as if she was drawn to the mirror, like she didn’t get a say whether or not she approached it. It was nearly as tall as her, an oval shape, its circular glass caught in a dark, meticulously-carved mahogany wood. It was beautiful. Beautiful and strange. Beautiful and peculiar.

  She stood before it, meeting her own reflection. Her eyes squinted somewhat, and she lifted a hand, outstretching it towards the mirror. The moment her fingertips brushed against the cold surface, her reflection morphed. Frost jumped back, her heart in her throat.

  It had changed, and yet it was still her.

  The woman mirroring her movements was tanner, a healthy glow to her cheeks. Her hair was more yellow and less white, and her eyes were a normal, crisp blue and not the luminescent azure she knew hers were.

  Frost wanted to ask the reflection who she was, but as she reached up to touch her own face, she watched the reflection do exactly the same. That woman…it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. The woman in the mirror held no traces of coldness, of ice and snow, of magic. The woman looked normal in every possible way.

  So instead Frost spoke, “I don’t understand.” Her voice echoed through the giant room, bouncing back and forth with no answer. Truly, she hadn’t expected an answer. This was…this was strange. That woman wasn’t her.

  Frost started to shake her head, and as she did so, the dress she wore changed, just as her reflection did. Instead of a sparkling silver, a color reminiscent to her winter magic, the dress turned into a golden hue, radiating warmth. Her hands, she discovered, were tanner, less pallid. The next time she glanced into the mirror, she realized, deep down, that she’d been staring at herself all along.

  The her in the mirror was who she was supposed to be, the woman who never had a chance at life because her parents had asked for the help of the white-haired witch. Why her parents had done so, Frost still didn’t know.

  Maybe all of this was meant to help her discover the truth.

  Frost woke in the same bed where she and Noel had made love. She did not wake with a start, mostly because that dream had been just that—a dream. Not a nightmare. Not something she was fearful of; ironic, given what had to happen today.

  Today she would face her demons. Today she would learn whether or not these men really, truly loved her, or if she meant nothing to them. It was selfish of her to wish that they would be okay with what she’d done. Knowing it without saying it and seeing it for themselves were two vastly different things.

  When she woke, she found herself alone. She slowly got up, dressed herself, and met Blue by the bedroom door. Blue’s tail thumped the ground, and she ran a hand through the fur on his head, moving toward the front of the house, where the others were, talking quietly.

  “If she can’t do, she can’t do it,” Douglas was busy saying. His sword lay on his back, attached to its sheath over his coat. “I will not let her overwork herself in the hopes that her magic can get us into the castle.” His thick, muscular arms were crossed.

  Noel’s hood was up, though his face mask was down. “And I’m not saying to push her. All I’m saying is that we have to try. It’s the reason why we’re here. Get in, get the Jewel, get out.”

  “Nothing is as simple as it first appears,” Hale whispered, scratching the back of his neck.

  Frost coughed, causing the guys to simultaneously quiet themselves as they turned to look at her. This day was not a day meant for lounging around and eating a meal for breakfast. This was a day that was better to get over with sooner rather than later. “We should go,” she said. At her side, Blue let out a bark, as if agreeing with her.

  Noel was the first to nod. “Right. Let’s get this over with.”

  As she watched the men exit the house, Frost held in a sigh. Truly, these men had no idea what they were about to see. Her one true shame.

  They walked through the town, hiking it through the snow. Frost had offered to sweep aside the snow like she’d done for the house, but they told her to conserve her magic. Ever since that vision, where she awoke with the knowledge it wouldn’t last forever, they hated relying on her, probably because they didn’t want her to die. The snow was tall, up to the rooftops of most of the one-story houses. It was tough to wade through, but it was doable. Most of the snow on the bottom few feet had been around for years, so Frost suspected it had hardened into ice by now.

  The sun shone overhead, the skies clear as they made their way through the city. When they reached the bridge, Frost’s feet immediately froze. Ahead of them, above the snow lining the bridge, were bodies—and not the frozen sculptures she knew lay under the snow, but new bodies, fresh ones.

  About two dozen corpses, frozen to death. Most of them wore Fenburn armor, but a few of them wore Springvale colors. Those that were lost trying to get the Jewel. Men and women who had died bravely, stupidly, for their kingdoms.

  “Those who lost their lives trying to cross the bridge,” Noel whispered. “Let’s not join their ranks.”

  Frost held up a hand, gesturing for the men to remain back. The minute she crossed the threshold to the bridge, she felt the air cool significantly. Anyone who was not immune to the cold would never last in air like this, even when bundled up. This was the sort of weather that could freeze the blood in one’s veins in a matter of minutes.

  The castle was the start of it all. It made sense that the magic made it the worst place to be. Frost had abandoned it a long time ago, never wanting to return. Maybe her magic sensed this, maybe that was the reason why no one could cross and reach the castle.

  The wind lapped at her face, and Frost tilted her chin downwards, bringing her hands to her chest, holding them before her heart. She focused on her breathing. In, out. In, out. Slow and steady, constant, cooling her fraying nerves and trying to stifle her worry.

  This was it. There was no going back. This was the turning point for everything.

  Frost moved her hands out, exhaling. All her magic, all of her strength, gathered at the palms of her hands, and she swept them apart, as if she were parting a great sea. The ten feet of snow parted, swept off the sides of the bridge in one swift movement, revealing her true shame. The bodies that had rested upon the top of the snowdrifts either fell to the floor or went with the snow off the sides of the bridge. There were no respectable deaths here. All of this was madness.

  With the snow gone, she closed her eyes, unable to look upon the icy people taking up the bridge. Body to body, they took up so much space, innocent lives that were lost. Anyone with eyes would know they were real people, turned to ice with her winter magic. The men behind her now knew what secret she held so close to her heart, and they knew how badly it had broken her.

  She inhaled deeply, raising her head before blowing out through her mouth, pushing the icy air away. Frost swayed on her feet, but she kept herself upright as she turned to view the men behind her. Blue had stayed with them, his white head cocked as he’d watched her.

  “Well,” Frost spoke, motioning to the bridge and the hundreds of icy people frozen on it, “there you have it. Now you can see for yourself how wonderful my magic really is, in case you didn’t already know. In case an entire kingdom stuck in winter wasn’t enough for you.” Her breath grew short, and she wanted to scream. She wanted to fall down, scream, and block everything else out. So what if it was a childish move? She’d never had a childhood, not really. This winter was all she’d ever known.


  Her head felt light, but she plowed on, saying, “No one escaped. My sister is the only one who got out, and that’s because I wanted this. I wanted everything to stop. I killed these people because I was selfish.”

  How could anyone not cry when admitting the mass-murder of an entire kingdom’s worth of people? Tears formed, and she didn’t stop them, even as they froze midway down her cheeks, digging into her skin like tiny knives.

  “It’s okay,” Noel spoke quietly, cautiously stepping through the snow and onto the bridge. She hadn’t cleared anything else, so he did a bit of a tumble. Just ten feet away, the frozen sculptures began. He reached for her as Douglas and Hale ventured forth, followed shortly by Blue, but she pulled back.

  “It is not okay,” Frost whispered fiercely. “None of this is okay. You want me to come with you after this? Would you have me do this to Springvale? I am a monster—”

  Douglas was at her side, Hale on her other. Douglas said, “You were a child with magic.”

  “That is no excuse for what I’ve done,” Frost said, turning to glare at him. Hard to do, with the frozen tears on her face. “Child or not, I knew this was wrong. I knew it was wrong as it was happening, and I still did it anyway. I wished for this.”

  “No,” Hale whispered, shaking his blonde head. “You might’ve wished to be alone, but you did not wish for an entire kingdom to freeze. You didn’t want everyone to die, I’m sure of it.”

  She let out a skeptical chuckle. “How can any of you put any faith in me after seeing this? What I’ve done, there’s no coming back from it. There’s no being redeemed from this.” No redemption, no forgiveness. Frost didn’t deserve any of it.

  “Princess,” Noel spoke, “maybe you’ve forgotten, but we’re not knights in shining armor. We’re not here to decide whether or not you deserve redemption. The only person who can give you that is yourself.”

  Douglas nodded gruffly. “We’re not here to judge you.”

  “Least of all judge you for past mistakes,” Hale added, shooting a dark glance at Noel and Douglas, who agreed with a single bow of their heads.

  “Right now, the only thing that matters is the future, and the here and now,” Noel said, reaching for her, cupping her cheeks. He did not try to rub the frozen tears from her face, probably because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle them, but he did bring his head to hers, leaning his hooded forehead upon her. “We’re with you, Princess, from here on out. No matter what.”

  Frost waited until his hands released her face, feeling a bit woozy from the strength of his words. Though she wanted to cry more, she wouldn’t. Reaching for her face, she swiped at the frozen tears, flicking them off.

  “Whether you believe it or not,” Douglas remarked, his scarred, bearded face appearing both stern and unbelievably kind, “we’re not going to leave you, or let you wallow.”

  In spite of herself, she smiled.

  Noel clapped his gloved hands. “Now that the air won’t freeze us, who says we get in and get this thing over with?” To say he sounded eager would be a lie. No one wanted to cross the bridge, and no one wanted to go inside the castle. Would that stop them?

  No, no it would not.

  Frost was about to say something, but her voice cracked, sounding off. The guys had started to walk, but the moment she took a step to follow them, she felt her knees giving out. She collapsed, but Douglas was near, and he was able to catch her before she fell to the stone below. Something gooey oozed from her nose, and her eyes lolled back into her head.

  The last thing she remembered before passing out was Douglas saying, “She’s bleeding. We have to get her inside.” Then her world turned to black, and even though she’d found something to live for—three someones, more specifically—it was a welcome change to her normal, dreary existence.

  Frost found herself in a bed. A real bed, with a fire roaring in the fireplace in the corner of the room. Her eyes cracked open, and as she struggled to sit up, Douglas appeared at her side, shaking his head, his hands going to push her back down.

  “Easy,” he said. “You passed out cold. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.” Of course he didn’t. He was a caring man, one who wore his heart on his sleeve. Douglas’s scarred face smiled down at her, though it was a tremendously sad smile. “You had me worried there.”

  “I had myself worried, too,” Frost whispered. Her brows creased as she recognized her surroundings. They weren’t in her old room, but it was right down the hall, another bedchamber decked out with all the royal furnishings. “We’re in the castle,” she added, meeting Douglas’s eyes as he finally let her sit up.

  Douglas gave her a single nod. “We are. There was a bit of ice on the outer doors, but we broke through.” He sat on the edge of the bed, resting a hand over her legs on top of the sheets. “We’re in.”

  “And the others?” Frost asked, noting both Noel and Hale were gone.

  “They’ve gone to look for the Jewel.”

  Worries flew through her mind faster than she could stop them. Before she knew what she was doing, she rattled off, “What if they’re frozen solid? What if I didn’t expel the cold air enough? There might be—”

  “I’m certain they’re fine,” Douglas said, confident. Kingdoms more confident than she was in her own magic. “And I made them swear that if they felt the air grow colder, they’d turn around and come back.”

  Hmm. Fine. Still, though, Frost worried that they would not feel the air soon enough. What if they knew they stepped too far into the cold and it was too late to turn back? What if they were lost in this gigantic place, never to be seen or heard from again? This place had many winding corridors and stray hallways, numerous rooms and multiple towers. It was not a place for two men to wander, two men who’d never before set foot here. If anyone should be wandering these halls, it was her.

  “How long have they been gone?” Frost asked. She would’ve gotten out of bed, but Douglas’s hand was firm on her leg. Plus, it was kind of nice sitting here, being here, after all this time. It was only made so nice knowing these guys weren’t going to abandon her. They might not have been her redemption, but they were the next best thing—her future. Her hope.

  “Not too long,” Douglas spoke with a shrug of his wide shoulders. “I’m sure they’re fine, Frost. You simply need to rest. I’m not letting you leave this room until I know you’re well.”

  In that case, they might never leave this room. Frost felt…weak, still. Her palms were tingly, almost as if it was absent the constant thrumming of magic it was used to. She reached for her braid when she recalled the reflection of herself in her latest dream, how she’d had golden, honey-colored hair.

  Nope. Her hair was still nearly white as the snowy world outside.

  Frost’s chest felt vacant almost, as if her heartbeat barely was working. Her head still felt a bit light, but she was awake. That had to mean something, right? Maybe this—finding the Jewel, helping these men bring it to Amara and securing Springvale’s dominion over Wysteria—would be the last thing she’d do. Maybe this was her fate, her recourse for what she’d done all those years ago.

  “I want to help search,” she said, placing a palm atop Douglas’s hand. “I know how to navigate the castle. I know where its vault is.” Her parents had shown her the vault when she was young, told her how important it was to the kingdom. The Jewel had to be in the vault, otherwise it wouldn’t be locked with a combination only the king and queen—and Frost and Amara—knew.

  “When they return, if they haven’t found it, then we can all go,” he answered her with a gentle smile. “How does that sound?” Douglas looked the part of a scary, menacing warrior, but deep down, he was nothing but kind. With his scruffy beard and his scars, he played the part well. Anyone would be intimidated by his size and his appearance.

  Frost knew she would never be able to convince him to let her go right now, so she sighed and shrugged. “Alright, you win. We’ll stay here.” And then, silly her, she came up with an idea,
something that would not only pass the time, but also tire him out. If the others weren’t back, if she’d tired him out enough, perhaps she could simply go, find the Jewel, and be back before he woke up.

  It wasn’t the best reason to make love, she was aware, but she also felt oddly needy, like a part of her was missing. What better way to overcome that feeling than by joining with one of her men?

  “Why don’t you come into this bed with me, and we can pass the time and keep each other warm?” Frost offered, watching as her suggestion settled in him. There was a fire going in the fireplace, but its heat was not nearly enough. Not like she knew Douglas’s body was. His body was a fire like no other.

  “I don’t think now is the time,” Douglas said, but she could tell there wasn’t much heart in it.

  She gave him a smile, and with that smile, she knew his rejection wouldn’t last long. He loved her, and there was no possible way he could deny her when she gave him a look like that. Suggestive and slightly pouty, her lips puckered just a bit.

  Oh, yes. He relented within moments, as she knew he would.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Move over,” Douglas relented, and Frost slid herself over, allowing him the space to crawl under the sheets with her. When his hands roamed her sides, pulling her into his chest and smothering her with his heat and his size, Frost couldn’t help but grin. She adored being in his arms, loved feeling his strength engulf her whole.

  Truly, there wasn’t a feeling like it anywhere else in the world.

  “We could simply lay here,” Douglas offered, ever the gentleman. “You could rest more. You have to be feeling worn-out, after using that much magic.”

  She traced a pattern over his chest, along his coat. She was tired. She was very tired, but the tiredness was deep, within her bones. There was no sleeping it off. It would remain with her until the day she died, and even then there was no telling that her soul would be at ease. Someone like her, someone who’d done the things she’d done, didn’t deserve to be at ease.