Crown of Ice (6 page)

Bae’s eyes are so glossy I could swear they hold unshed tears. “You have harmed him enough, Snow Queen. Can you not leave him be?”

I dump several flakes of the hay into his trough. “Not if I want to live. And, trust me, Bae, there’s nothing I desire more.”

Leaving Bae with a scoopful of oats and a bucket of water, I harness the ponies to the sleigh and whistle for Luki. I don’t concern myself with my appearance this time—my chamois tunic and breeches must suffice. I pull on a thick wool cloak and throw a reindeer hide blanket across my legs, allowing it to lap over the seat beside me. Luki jumps onto the seat and curls up in the folds of the blanket, his head resting on my knee.

I scout Kai’s location from the air before directing the ponies to land behind the mill. Kai’s sitting on the edge of the open loft, his feet dangling high above the frozen ground. His dark head is bent over his lap and his right hand moves swiftly across the pages of a leather-bound notebook. He’s calculating, of course. I smile slightly. I understand the comfort of equations.

He glances up when he hears the sound of my boots on the hard-packed ground. His eyes widen, but he doesn’t move. I’ve cast no snow spells to hide my form. It’s time to face him without disguise.

“You,” Kai says, with wonderment in his voice. He glances from my face to Luki. “And this is the wolf pup I found? You kept him with you?”

“Yes.” I move closer, until I’m standing beneath his feet. I tilt my head to look up at him. “Luki. You named him, remember?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Kai swings his feet onto the edge of the loft beam, drawing his knees to his chest. “Is he tame now?”

“Tame? No. But he obeys my commands, by his choice.”

Kai’s dark eyes settle upon my face. “I know we met only once, but there’s something familiar about you, something that makes me remember …” He rubs at his forehead with one hand. “Where do you come from, anyway?”

“Far from here, yet less than a day’s journey as I travel.”

“You travel fast?”

“Very.” I throw back the hood of my cloak, allowing my tumble of snowy curls to spring free and halo my pale face.

“Alone?” Kai examines every inch of me. Dispassionately, as if calculating my mass.

“Except for Luki. Although”—I turn the full force of my icy glare upon Kai—“there’s room for one more in my sleigh, if you’re interested.”

He meets my gaze with a cool stare of his own. “To go where?”

“Anywhere away from here. Isn’t that what you want, Kai?”

“You know my name.” He rises to his feet, clutching his notebook to his chest.

“I know a great deal about you, Kai. I know that you’re the smartest boy in this village. Or any surrounding village, for that matter. I know that your mind seeks greater challenges than this little place can offer.”

“I plan to go to the university. In the city—not so very far from here as the crow flies, but distant as the stars from this backwards village.” Kai’s eyes light up at this thought.

I purse my lips. I’ve studied drawings of that university in Voss’s library—along with sketches of the ancient walled town where it resides—but I’ve never set foot in the city’s bustling streets. Nor am I likely to ever do so. Kai may believe he is trapped—I know I am.

“Do you? Now that your father lies prostrate, like one dead, who’ll run the mill?”

Kai turns his face away. “My mother and Gerda’s family, I suppose.”

“Will they allow it, Kai?” I slip a little magic in my voice, just to draw his attention. “Will they actually let you go?”

“I don’t know!” shouts Kai. He swears and dashes into the shadows of the building. I’m afraid I’ve pushed too hard. That I’ve lost him.

But he was merely climbing down the ladder from the loft. He steps out of the lower level of the mill and strides up to me, his dark eyes flashing.

“I ask you again, who are you?” He makes a grab for my arm but jumps back when Luki bares his teeth and growls.

“I’m the person who can provide a puzzle that will test your mind to its limits.” I lay my hand on Luki’s head to calm him. “I can offer you a challenge that will absorb you, day and night, for months on end.”

Kai’s face crumples. He looks like a broken little boy. “Can it make me forget? Can it take away memories I can’t live with? Can it mask the pain?”

“I believe so.” I speak softly, with no magic lacing my voice. I no longer need it. I have triumphed. Kai Thorsen is mine.

***

Kai trails me, shuffling his boots through the deeper snow behind the mill. He stares at the sleigh for a moment before climbing in. Still clutching his notebook in his gloved hands, he appears dazed.

I wait for Luki to leap in between Kai and me before I take up the reins. Reaching across the wolf’s back, I lay my hand on Kai’s arm. “I know you’re tired,” I say, winding my words about the boy like silken ropes. “Rest yourself while we travel. Sleep now.”

Kai’s head bobs and droops. He drops his chin to his chest. I shoot a swift glance his way to make sure his eyes are closed before I urge the ponies to carry us into the stone-gray sky.

My magic keeps Kai asleep until we land at the palace. Drawing up beside the stable doors, I touch his arm to wake him.

“We’re here,” I say, shaking him slightly.

He blinks and gazes about, then rubs his eyes and stares at me.

“Where are we?”

“At my palace.” I step from the sleigh and Luki bounds after me. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here, Kai, no matter how strange things appear.”

I toss the reins to a waiting groom—a polar bear whose paws look like furred human hands. Kai blanches at the sight of the bear, but I simply take the boy by the arm and lead him to a set of iron-clad wooden doors that open upon the kitchens. Another bear, smaller and brown-furred, rushes forward to throw back the heavy doors, allowing us to stumble through.

“Palace?” Kai’s voice breaks on the word. “Bears with hands?” He glances at me. “What are you?”

I release his arm and step away. “I am the Snow Queen.”

“There’s no such thing.” Kai falls back against a kitchen table, his fingers scrambling against the battered wood.

“There is. She stands before you. Don’t you believe the evidence of your own eyes?”

Kai grips the edge of the table until his knuckles whiten. “I believe in logic, in calculations, in equations.”

“As do I.”

“But this place, those creatures—surely this is some enchantment.”

“It is, but reason still prevails. What do you think lies at the heart of magic, Kai, if not the perfection of logic?”

He shakes his head and a lock of his dark hair falls into his eyes. “Why did you bring me here? What do you need from me, if you have such power?” He brushes the hair back and clutches at his skull, as if to contain his frantic thoughts.

“I need your mind.” I cross to the counter where a reindeer haunch lies covered in burlap. “You must help me solve a puzzle.” I slide out a bone that still bears shreds of meat and toss it to Luki.

“What sort of puzzle?” Kai’s fingers relax. This is something he understands.

“One that will surely occupy your mind,” I reply. “Now, come with me, Kai Thorsen, and I’ll show you my challenge.”

I stride from the kitchens, glancing back once or twice to ensure that Kai’s trailing me. Luki, occupied with his bone, doesn’t follow. I’m careful to brightly illuminate all the walls as we traverse the icy corridors. It’s far too soon to introduce Kai to the wraiths.

When I open the doors to the Great Hall I sense that Kai’s right upon my heels. I cross to the mirror, throwing out my hands. “Here’s your puzzle, Kai Thorsen. You’ll find no greater.”

Kai wanders into the chamber, his eyes flitting from the vista revealed by the windows to the domed ceiling and the massive table. At last his gaze lights upon the mirror and he steps forward to stand beside me, staring into its reflective surface.

“It’s broken.” Kai strokes the smooth surface of the glass.

“Yes, but it can be restored.” I lay my fingers across his hand. “With your help.”

My touch galvanizes him into action. He springs away, striding to the windows in the far wall. “I know nothing of mirrors.” He stands straight as a spear, his dark form silhouetted against the backdrop of my snow-clad kingdom.

“You know mathematics. You can calculate and create equations to solve problems. These are the skills I need.”

“And why would I assist you?” Kai turns. His eyes shine like those of our bears—dark, bright, and cold. “It appears that you’ve put me under some enchantment and kidnapped me. Why should I help you with anything?”

I lean back against the table, surveying his frigid face. I must calculate the odds that this boy will be able to resist my magic long enough to destroy my hopes. Consider all the variables. Evaluate the possibilities. Find a logical means to persuade him to stay willingly, to aid me of his own free will. If I must hold him under an enchantment it will weaken me as well as him, and neither of us will be able to employ our minds to their full potential.

“This mirror,” I say slowly, as an idea blossoms in my mind, “holds a powerful enchantment. Restored, it can grant great magic to my master, Mael Voss. It’s he who set me to this task, several years ago. But I’ve learned …” I allow my fingers to glide across the mirror’s surface, “of its other power.”

“Yes,” says Kai, interested, I suspect, in spite of himself. “What is that?”

The lie slips easily off my tongue. “It can restore health to the ailing, even those that lie near death.”

Kai doesn’t move, or blink, but I know by his breathing that I’ve ensnared him.

“How’s that possible?” He takes two steps toward me.

“It holds very old, very great magic.” This, of course, is true.

Kai closes his eyes for a moment. He mouths numbers, calculating something in his head. “If I help you reassemble the mirror you must promise me one thing.”

“Yes, what is that?” I know what it is, but the game must be played.

“After your master achieves whatever it is he desires, you must grant me use of the mirror.” Kai takes a deep breath and fixes his dark eyes upon my face. “You must promise.”

“Very well, I promise. But what use do you have, Kai Thorsen, for a magic mirror?”

“The only use that would make me help you with anything. I will heal my father. I will bring him back to a full, healthy life.”

The trap springs shut, my lie the bait. “Of course,” I reply lightly. “You and I will restore the mirror, and you’ll restore your father to your family. A logical trade.”

Kai crosses to the table and walks its perimeter, examining every inch of Voss’s looking glass. He lifts one shard from the table and stares at it for a moment. “I assume, to have gotten this far, you’ve written some equations?” He waves the shard at me.

“Yes, I’ve a notebook full.”

“Show me.” He lays down the shard.

“Wouldn’t you like something to eat first?” I think of our recent journey and the lateness of the hour.

“No.” Kai’s voice is as cold as the walls of my palace. “We’ve work to do.”

***

I have to force Kai to rest, to spend any time in the chambers I’ve had the servants arrange for him. His every thought is the mirror. He sits huddled under the windows of the Great Hall, writing equations in his leather-bound notebook.

“You must eat,” I say, kneeling before him. “You’re no use to me, or your father, dead.”

“Did you figure this one already?” He thrusts the notebook under my nose.

I sigh and take the book from his hands, scanning his new equation. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Kai swears and bangs his head against the stones behind him. “This is impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible. Not when two minds like ours are involved.” I stare at the equation once more. “If you were to change this variable …” I grab the pencil that Kai hands me and scribble another figure onto the paper. “See here—it changes everything.”

Kai yanks the notebook from my fingers and eagerly scans the page. “Yes, that’s it.” He looks into my eyes, his face alight.

“I knew you’d see it,” I say, and sit back on my heels when I realize that Kai’s expression has changed.

“You.” His dark eyes bore into me. “I remember you. The girl in the church. The only one who could ever calculate as well as me.”

“I’m the Snow Queen.” I rise swiftly to my feet.

Kai stands to face me. “Thyra, that was your name. Thyra Winther.”

I draw myself up to my full height. “I am the Snow Queen. You’ve experienced my power.”

“You’re that girl. A girl no different than any other in our village. Well, except for the calculating part.” A faint smile tugs at the corners of Kai’s mouth.

“I was that girl.” I realize I might as well admit the truth, this once. “But the years, and Voss’s magic, have changed me. Don’t think I’m simply a human girl that you can ignore, Kai Thorsen.”

The boy whose mind I need, whose equations might save me from an eternity of torment, smiles more broadly. “I doubt it’s possible to ignore you, Thyra Winther. Snow Queen or not.”

“You need to eat,” I say, turning on my heel. “If you’ll follow me to the kitchens, I’ll see what I can find.”

Kai strides forward until he’s by my side. “The wolf pup—he’s your pet now, isn’t he?”

“Pet?” I walk faster. “I don’t have pets. Luki is useful as a protector, nothing more.”

“Really? Is that why he sleeps in your rooms? And follows you everywhere?”

“Whatever Luki does,” I say, remembering to illuminate the walls when I hear a faint wail echoing through the corridor, “he does of his own free will.”

“As do I,” says Kai.

MISSING PIECES

It’s odd, living with another human being again.

I constantly encounter Kai in passageways or the kitchens as well as in the Great Hall. He prowls the icy corridors as I once did, obviously determined to catalog every inch of the palace. He’s locating escape routes, I think, and concern flashes in my brain. But then I see him huddled over his calculations, his brow furrowed in concentration, and I remember that he wants to reassemble the mirror as desperately as I do.