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Authors: Danielle Paige

Stealing Snow (19 page)

BOOK: Stealing Snow
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He will not win!
I thought, and concentrated on the ground behind him. The air began to kick up and cyclone.

The Enforcer struggled against the wind, holding tighter to his ax, which he raised in my direction. But as he raised it, my wind caught hold. His battle-ax flew from his hand, swallowed up behind him by the vortex I had created. He followed a second after. His armored figure bent at the waist as my storm sucked him backward and he disappeared into a whirl of white.

I shook myself off and stood up in the snow, my feet sinking into it.

I could have used a tornado to get away immediately instead of facing the Enforcer. I should have. But I needed to know that I could defend myself. I needed to know because when I finally found Bale, the Enforcer would be the one standing in my way.

I heard the sound of boots against ice. This was not over yet. I knew the Enforcer was coming back even before I saw him. It was just like the superhero movies on television. The bad guys never died. They always lived to fight again. It was the same in
The End of Almost.
A character could drop off a cliff and be resurrected in a coma.

I pushed another cyclone in his direction, but his dark silhouette advanced through my storm.

And this time, inexplicably, my snow did not make contact with his armor. It should have leveled him, but the ice fell away from him as if he were surrounded by a force field.

I threw daggers of ice at him, but they, too, did not make contact.

Suddenly, instead of feet there were mere inches between us.

The Enforcer reached his hand up, and his battle-ax came tumbling toward him, landing in his grip like a boomerang.

His hand squeezed the handle.

I felt my ice claws come out. I swiped at him. I clawed at his metal shell with icy nails. I was unable to penetrate the hard metal exterior, but I left a mark. Five jagged lines rippled down his arm where I’d tried to gain traction.

I kicked him again. But he stepped aside, and I lost my balance.

This time, he was on top of me. He dropped the ax and pinned me down with his chain-mailed hands, keeping my arms against the snow so I couldn’t use them against him.

I saw what he was doing. But he was bigger and stronger.

I looked into the deep black pools of his eyes and wondered if the King could actually see me now. The Eyes of the King…

“Can you see me, Lazar?” I said. “You can’t face me yourself, so you send this thing to get me? You’re a coward…”

There was no response from the Enforcer. His hands were crushing me into the ice.

“And you … You’re just a minion of the King. You don’t even
know me … You just do whatever he tells you to do … That boy in the square … and now me … You are the worst kind of coward…”

Is there any thought, feeling, or free will inside there?
I wondered. I had stared into the eyes of a lot of vacant kids at Whittaker who were too drugged up on the cocktail to care, but there was always something … that flash of something underneath the dark.

I searched for that now in the Enforcer, but I came up empty. Still, I felt his grip loosen just a fraction.

He wasn’t human. He couldn’t be. But whatever he was, he couldn’t or wouldn’t die.

With every ounce of energy I had left, I ripped one hand free and sliced at his face. My ice claws made an impression on the hood of his armor: four lines tracked across the surface of the magical metal. The Enforcer had my wrist secured again in a half second.

He was a soulless monster, a pawn of the King.

“Do you enjoy this? Do you get your kicks doing this? Do you feel anything at all? Or do you just do what he wants?”

He tilted his head like he was contemplating my words. And then he brought his ax down. I kept my eyes open.

I ordered my snow to freeze him, but nothing happened.

I focused on the eyeholes of his armored hood again. I ordered my snow to freeze whatever was inside. The blade continued to fall and fall.

I do not end like this
, I told myself, willing my snow to come to my aid. Frost crept up his armor, but it melted away. And the blade didn’t stop.

I didn’t believe in the prophecy. But I also didn’t believe that I was going to die here. That I was never going to see Bale again.

I didn’t blink. I wouldn’t blink. Blinking was giving up. Giving in.

I do not end like this
, I told myself again.

“Bale, I will come for you. No matter what. I will find a way,” I whispered, my breath making wispy clouds in the cold air.

And a hair’s breadth from my face, the ax finally came to a halt.

But I wasn’t the one who had stopped it. My snow hadn’t stopped it.

The Enforcer had.

With a guttural growl, the Enforcer buried his ax in a tree. He looked from me to the tree and then pulled the ax out.

His head tilted to the side. Was he deciding whether or not to kill me?

I closed my eyes and tornadoed myself away.

19

While I was spinning away from the Enforcer—my ice and snow hurling around me, keeping me above the changing landscape—I closed my eyes and saw the River Witch again.

I was standing on the River’s edge, and she was beckoning me from underwater. She said something I couldn’t quite make out. And even though everything in my body warned me not to, for some reason I was desperate to hear what she had said. I leaned farther over the water just as the River Witch leaped up. Her tentacles wrapped around my arms and legs and pulled me underwater. I could hear her clearly now, even though she was whispering.

“I knew you’d come back to me.”

And then the snowstorm released me, depositing me on the cold, hard ground. I shook my head clear. I was somewhere in the woods. Lost. But at least there was no sign of the Enforcer.

The pale-blue trees seemed to wink at me. The North Lights
overhead had turned gloomy and mauve as if they had witnessed our fight below.

I let out a string of curses more colorful than the Lights and found a tree to lean against. As I inspected myself for injuries, I admonished myself. What was I thinking, fighting the guy whose main mission in life was to kill me? And now I was screwed. He was the key to finding Bale. I had no idea which way led back to the city or which way led to the King’s palace. I was alone.

I could call on the River Witch. I could call a snow tornado and take myself back to her and Gerde and Kai.

“Bale, how am I supposed to find you now?” I said out loud.

My arm twitched. When l lifted up the witch’s cloak, I saw that the scars across my arm—what Kai had said was a map of Algid—were lit up again. I recognized the city by the terrain surrounding it. And then I remembered Kai had said the King’s palace was at the top right corner of the map. I could do this. I could figure this out. I didn’t need the Enforcer anymore.

I pushed my sleeve down and started walking.

I’m coming for you, Bale.

I walked for hours in the snow. Hunger began to gnaw at me even though the cold did not.

When I finally thought I could not go on any farther, the palace came into view.

I looked at the fortress for signs of where the dungeon might be. If the Enforcer had Bale captive, that’s where he’d be. My scars were lit up just above my wrist. I had found my way here,
and no matter where I was in Algid, I knew I could find my way back.

I examined the castle. Through the window I could see one of the drawing rooms, where an ornately dressed man played chess with the Enforcer, who was inexplicably still in complete armor.

I could not see the man’s face, as his back was to me. But I guessed it was the King. The man everyone in this land claimed was my father.

I suddenly couldn’t catch my breath. And there was a twinge of pain in my heart. I had to look away. I pressed myself against the side of the castle and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I saw the last person in the world I thought I’d ever see again: Jagger.

“Where have you been?” I asked, reaching out to touch his face to make sure that he was real and not a snow exposure–addled daydream. His skin was cold but smooth.

“Around. I have my ways …,” he boasted. “You missed me?”

I realized that my hand had lingered, and I pulled it away.

“Why did you leave me? How did you find me?”

“I watched you with the River Witch, but I couldn’t get to you.”

A desire to punch him again hit me with the familiar wave of trust that accompanied his magnetic smile. The pull of his charm I had felt a moment ago made me want to flee even more.

“I thought you ran away! But you were spying on me? Who does that?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to get drowned by the River
Witch. Nice work giving her minions the slip. And getting to the castle on your own.”

I slid down my sleeve where my scars were probably still lit up like Christmas. “Bale’s in there somewhere. We have to get him out.”

“No, we have to leave. Now.”

“What are you talking about? You told me the key to Bale is the Enforcer. He’s in there. I’m going to get him out. With or without you.”

“I know the River Witch helped you get in touch with your snow. But how do you think you’re going to play this? Level the whole castle and somehow miraculously spare Bale’s life?”

He had a point. The Enforcer had come this close to killing me. My body still ached from the battle, but my pride hurt more. But I didn’t admit that. Instead I said, “Exactly how long were you spying on me?”

“That is of no consequence. I will help you get in there—me and my people. I promise. And we will break Bale out. But right this second, we need to get out of here.”

I could feel anger whirl inside me. Had this been Jagger’s plan all along?

Had the King really taken Bale or had Jagger and his people? I suddenly needed proof of life—proof of Bale.

“You can go back to doubting me as soon as we get clear of the King’s army.”

“What are you talking about?” But just as I said it, the snow behind Jagger sprang into an army of Snow Beasts. There were thousands of them.

I had walked right up to the castle and not seen a single guard. He didn’t need them. The snow itself contained all the protection he needed.

My claws extended the tiniest bit in my palms, drawing my own blood. There was a Whittaker pill for the feeling I was feeling. I called it Boring. But it was really Dulling. It counteracted the jumpy feeling of anxiety that was gnawing inside me at the moment. The feeling that said there was no way out of Whittaker. And now there was no way through to what I wanted to—what I needed to—do; there were thousands of beasts in my way. It was an improbable, impossible path to Bale. The pill didn’t make things possible. It just dulled the wanting and the needing.

Then I got a flash of something. My eyes were open, but they were not seeing Jagger. Instead I got a flash of a dark room with a triangle of light pouring through.

“Bale … I don’t know how … I saw Bale…”

“Snow! We have to go now. Before this gets messy.”

Jagger pulled out a small yellow vial like the magic ones I’d seen the girls peddle in the square.

“Don’t smash it this time,” he suggested, holding it out to me. “Drink.”

I didn’t move a muscle. I looked from the bottle to the Snow Beasts. I didn’t have enough control of my snow to take out all of them and spare Bale. Coming back to fight another day made sense.

“It’s a transporting potion. All it takes is a sip,” Jagger urged.

I had never tornadoed out with someone. I didn’t know what
would happen if I tried to take him with me. I considered the bottle again. Another possibility occurred to me immediately. I felt myself light up with hope.

“Will one of those take me and Bale back to New York?”

“No, there isn’t enough magic in the world to transport someone to another world. For that you need a gateway.”

The Tree?
I thought.

He shook the vial in his hand. “This will take you to my home.”

I shook my head. “What do you know about the King’s mirror?”

I wanted to see how he’d react. I thought I saw his eyes widen slightly, but I couldn’t tell for sure in the dark. “And do you really think that I am going to drink anything that you give me?” I balked. There was no way I was going home with him.

The things in the snow had other ideas. While I had been talking, they had been getting closer. I heard a rustle of snow too close beside us.

“Sometimes it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission,” he said as he downed the vial himself—and suddenly put an arm around my waist.

Then in a blink, before I could twist away, we were someplace else.

BOOK: Stealing Snow
12.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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