Crown of Ice (28 page)

“I’ll unhitch him.” Gerda pulls away from Kai and takes hold of Bae’s harness. “We understand each other, don’t we, Bae?”

“Indeed, little miss.” The reindeer turns his head and gently butts Gerda’s shoulder.

“You go.” Gerda motions to Kai and me with her free hand. “I’ll join you in the Great Hall when I’ve taken care of Bae.”

Kai shakes his head. “But you must navigate the corridors alone, and the wraiths …”

“Can’t harm me, as Thyra says.” There’s a new steeliness in Gerda’s eyes. “Now run and finish that blasted mirror, will you. I’d like to get home someday.”

Kai laughs and gives Gerda a swift kiss on the cheek before grabbing my hand. “Come, Thyra, we’ve our orders.”

We race through the kitchens, Luki loping in front of us. Dashing down the corridors, I don’t illuminate the walls any more than is necessary and the wraiths are soon trailing us. Their wails resonate within the icy halls. Luki howls in response.

“Leave them,” I tell Kai as he swings an arm to chase the former queens away. “If they follow us they won’t be swarming Gerda.”

“Good point.” Kai halts and motions toward a set of open doors. “Look—Voss’s chambers.”

“The spell on the doors evaporated as well.” I draw up beside Kai. “Listen—could you dash inside and grab the pewter box that’s sitting on the table? I’m going to run to the Great Hall and try to place my shard while you bring Voss’s fragment.”

Kai nods and gives me a quick kiss before disappearing into the dark room. I call forth more light in the hall to aid his search before taking off at a run.

The wraiths swarm in my wake, their hollow voices chanting a familiar refrain. “The last piece—I will place it. Give it to me.”

I don’t bother to answer. Reaching the Great Hall, I throw back the double doors and stride inside with Luki, leaving the wraiths clustered in the corridor. They can’t cross the threshold, even now. It’s not Voss’s spells but the mirror’s magic that controls them.

“Soon, soon,” they howl and hiss. “Soon you’ll be one of us.”

I block their cries from my mind and grab my shard from the bin. Leaning over the mirror, I turn the fragment by tiny increments. I don’t attempt to think, I strive only to experience the feel of the sharp glass under my fingers and the warmth of Luki’s body pressed against my leg. The wraiths’ wails are muted as I concentrate on those things that I refuse to lose—my mind, the essence of my being, and the memory of Kai’s smile.

Kai runs into the chamber, holding the pewter box aloft. “I have it, but it’s locked.”

Behind him, Gerda slides past the wraiths without flinching. “Bae’s comfortably settled.” She follows Kai across the room.

I feel my shard click into place just as Kai places his arm about my waist.

“Done!” he exclaims, hugging me to his side. “Now for Voss’s piece.” He hands me the box.

“Midnight hour, no time left,” chant the wraiths. “Soon you’ll be one of us. Soon.”

Luki slinks toward the doors and crouches, growling.

I slide my fingers under the latches on the box, calling forth enough magic to spring the locks. Holding the box before me, I slowly open its domed lid.

The interior is lined with black velvet. Soft as a snowflake, dark as a starless night.

And empty.

I close the lid and cradle the box to my breast. “For once in his life”—my voice is fragile as an ice crystal—“Voss didn’t lie.”

Kai yanks the pewter casket from my hands and flings open the lid. Every trace of color drains from his face. “No. No, it can’t be.”

“Midnight hour, midnight hour.” The wraiths’ words beat inside my head. “Ding, ding …”

“No!” The box slips from Kai’s fingers and crashes to the floor.

“Clang, clang, clang,” cry the wraiths.

Gerda gasps and leans over the mirror, pressing her hand against the glass, her fingers outlining that one small, dark spot. “No,” she says as tears well in her eyes. “It isn’t right.”

The wraiths’ voices ring out like a ghostly choir. “The bells chime. Six, seven, eight …”

Kai takes me in his arms. He covers my face with kisses. When he reaches my mouth, his lips linger until I pull away.

“Nine…”

I will fade. I will disappear. My body will melt to mist, my mind will shatter like ice hit with a hammer. I will cease to be Thyra Winther.

I tilt my head back and gaze into Kai’s eyes. I read his love there, beneath the terror and despair.

“Ten …”

I will become a wraith. But in this last moment I hold one precious thought—that in these past months I’ve finally lived. For so many years I was a ghost, every emotion muted, my heart frozen. Long before Voss brought me to this icy kingdom, I’d rejected my feelings. A necessity perhaps, for self-preservation, for survival, but sad and lonely all the same.

“Eleven …”

Smiling, I take Kai’s face in my hands. I utter the final words he should hear, the last words I’ll ever speak as Thyra Winther. “I love you.”

I bow my head, prepared for whatever comes. Gerda’s sobs break the silence and I glance at her just as a tear trembling on her lower lashes slides and falls, striking the mirror.

“Twelve. The hour has struck. Come to us, Snow Queen. It is time.”

Nothing happens. As the wraiths’ voices fade away like dying chimes, I lift my head and meet Kai’s astonished gaze. He touches my face and gently turns me to the mirror.

It gleams smooth as a lake newly sheathed in ice. Where the empty space had blemished its purity, light refracts from an unbroken surface. I touch the spot where the final fragment was to be placed. Cool glass slides beneath my fingers. “How is this possible?”

Kai lays his hand over my fingers. “Gerda’s tear. It fell on the empty space and filled it.”

“But it’s turned to glass. The mirror’s whole.” I straighten and gaze at the girl who stands next to us, her cheeks still damp with tears.

Gerda lifts her chin and meets my stare. The familiar look is back in her blue eyes—that look of love and compassion that I remember from long ago, on another face. My mother’s look.

“But I don’t possess any magic,” says Gerda, holding out her hands. “I just wept.”

“You cried for me.” I take hold of Gerda’s hands. “Even though you’d no reason to care, even if your life might be better with me gone, you cried for me.”

Kai laughs and pulls us both into an embrace. “We did it! Together! We conquered the mirror and saved Thyra.” He kisses Gerda on the forehead before kissing me in a much less brotherly fashion.

I feel Gerda break Kai’s hold and step away. “The wraiths,” she says, her voice suffused with wonder. Luki’s low growl turns into a whimper.

Kai and I turn as one to face the open doors. The wraiths are drifting into the room. As they cross the threshold their wispy forms solidify, until they stand before us, a semi-circle of young women. Their mode of dress varies, indicating the span of time, but their faces are all alike in beauty, radiating joy and calm.

I step out of Kai’s arms and approach them. “Are you free then? Free to depart in peace?”

They do not speak but curtsey in unison, bending low before me. As they rise their solid forms fade, thinning to translucence before they disappear. A soft breeze wafts through the room, filling the chamber with the scent of roses.

“Now you are the last, the eternal Snow Queen.” Kai’s voice pierces my reverie.

No.
Recalling Bae’s recent words, I spin about and stride to the mirror, placing my hands on its cool surface. I bend my head over that reflective pool, gazing into my own crystalline eyes. “Give me my chance,” I say, my words ringing through the chamber. “The choice must be mine and mine alone.”

The mirror vibrates beneath my fingers. I press my palms against the glass and feel the hard surface quiver and give way, until my hands are plunged wrist-deep into icy water. Ignoring the gasps and exclamations from Gerda and Kai, I cry out. “I renounce immortality and all the powers of the Snow Queen. I choose to remain mortal. I choose to be myself, Thyra Winther, a girl like any other.” I pull back my damp hands as a tremor races through my body. Shaking, I step away, watching the mirror solidify.

Kai catches me before I slide to the floor. “What have you done?”

I lean back against his chest as he wraps his arms around me. “Given myself a future,” I reply. I concentrate, calling forth the magic I’ve summoned so easily for many years. “Nothing,” I say after a moment. “Nothing there.” I laugh and turn in Kai’s arms until we’re face-to-face. “I’ve given it up, Kai. I’ve no more power, no magic. I’m simply human. I’m just another girl.”

“No.” Kai’s index finger traces the contours of my face. “Never that. Thyra Winther is never just another girl.” He leans in and kisses me until Luki wiggles between us, yipping and licking at our hands.

“You”—I pat the wolf’s head—“must learn some manners.” I lean closer and whisper in Kai’s ear. “As should we. We’ve left Gerda just standing there.”

A flush reddens Kai’s cheeks. “So we have.” He turns to the girl. “Time for all of us to get some rest. Tomorrow we take you back to the village, Gerda. Back home.”

Gerda smiles, but I detect the sorrow in her eyes. A very brave child—destined to become a remarkable woman.

“I can’t light the halls anymore,” I say, as the three of us leave the Great Hall. “It may be difficult to find our way.”

“Not with Luki leading the charge.” Kai motions toward the wolf, who trots before us, tail swinging. “Wolves can see in the dark.”

“So they can.” I link one arm through the crook of Kai’s elbow and extend my other hand to Gerda. “Come, let’s retreat to our respective rooms. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Kai whispers in my ear, “are we sleeping apart?”

“We are.” I jab his ribs with my elbow. “I may have lost my magic, Kai Thorsen, but I haven’t lost my mind.”

He throws back his head and laughs. The merry sound rings through the icy halls like silver bells. A chuckle rises in my throat. I fight to keep it contained, to no avail. Gerda glances at my face and giggles.

“You’re red as a rose,” she sputters.

Kai peers into my face. “You are,” he says. “Bright crimson, just like a rose.”

I sniff and lift my chin, choking back a laugh. “Just because I’m no longer a queen doesn’t give you leave to tease me unmercifully.”

“Oh yes, it does.” Kai winks at Gerda.

“Here are my rooms.” I fling open the door and cast Kai and Gerda a fierce look that doesn’t quite hide my smile. “You two head off now. I need some sleep.” I allow Luki to slip through the door before I close it, defeating Kai’s attempt to grab me. Running across the room, I fling myself on my bed. I recall Kai’s astonished face and dissolve into a fit of laughter.

A SINGLE CROCUS

Morning sun spills through the tall windows of the Great Hall, spreading fingers of light across the surface of the mirror. I rose early today, waking when Luki left my rooms for his first run. I dressed quickly and dashed outside behind the wolf. Heading to the Great Hall, I stopped by Voss’s old rooms to rip the heavy drapes from the window and drag them with me. Now I contemplate the mirror, and wait.

Kai and Gerda stumble into the room, their eyelids drooping.

“What are you doing?” asks Kai, crossing to my side. He gives me a quick kiss before turning his attention to the fabric piled upon the mirror.

“Waiting for you. I need your help.” I direct Kai and Gerda to assist me in lifting the mirror just enough to slide the large swathe of material beneath it.

“What’s this for?” Gerda tugs at the fabric, pulling it to the edge of the table. Her cheeks are pink with exertion.

“I’ve sent a message. I hope to receive a reply soon.” I meet Gerda’s questioning look with a frown. “You’re exhausted. Didn’t you sleep?”

“Not much.” The girl tosses her golden braids and shoots a glance toward Kai. “We stayed up for many hours, talking.”

Kai lifts his head and offers me a reassuring smile. “We did indeed. All about the mill, and what should be done going forward.”

“Kai”—Gerda’s voice is very firm—“has promised to teach me the business. Before he heads off to the university, of course. I convinced him that our mothers and I are perfectly capable of running a mill.” An unexpected grin lights up Gerda’s face. “We’ll just hire a few more burly men to help with the heavy lifting.”

I eye Kai with interest. “Oh, you worked this out last night? You and Gerda?”

Kai smiles sheepishly. “Well, really it was more Gerda telling me how it was going to go. Considering this new side of her, I’ve no doubt she can run any business.”

I smother a laugh. “No doubt. So you’re off to the university after all?” I give Gerda a nod. “I knew you could bring him around.”

“It wasn’t that difficult,” says Gerda as a bird flies through the open door.

“It’s the falcon.” Kai’s tired eyes widen, his gaze following the bird’s spiraling flight.

It sails upward to the rafters before turning and plummeting down, straight to my waiting arm.

“This was my messenger.” I unscrew the cap off the cylinder that’s fastened about the falcon’s leg. “Now let’s see whether I received any reply.”

My heart leaps as I pull a small roll of paper from the metal tube. So I didn’t kill him that day. “It’s from Holger,” I say to Kai, who turns and tells Gerda that he’ll explain later. “He’s agreed to my request.”

Kai moves closer, trying to read the scroll. “What request was that?”

“Watch,” I reply, tucking the paper in my pocket.

In an instant the chamber is flooded with birds. Falcons, geese, doves, even two eagles. Their wings fill the room with the sound of a great rush of wind.

Gerda runs to us and huddles at Kai’s left side while he puts his right arm about me. “What are they doing?” she asks, her blue eyes wide with awe.

“Watch,” I say again.

The birds hover over the table, forming a circle that surrounds the frame, then fly down and grip the loose fabric lying beneath the mirror with beaks and claws. They pull the heavy tapestry material taut, creating a cradle for the mirror.

“They’re carrying it off?” Kai turns to me in amazement. “But where?”