Crown of Ice Read online

  Over time I trained myself to stop crying altogether, even when alone.

  Lingering in Inga’s garden, which was mysteriously never touched by frost until far into November, I’d stare into the heart of the roses. The exquisitely layered construction of their petals diverted my thoughts from a daily barrage of harsh commands and snide comments. By the time I was eight I allowed such words to swarm about me like bees, never settling upon my skin. “This does not touch me,” I told myself. “Such words hold no power. Let them fade. Let them fall away.”

  When I learned to hide my emotions Inga was more indulgent, allowing me to eat dinner with her children rather than sending me to the corner stool with my bowl of stew. But she still treated me like the pigs she raised, with a care never quite touched with kindness. “Can’t get too close to them,” she’d say, yanking me away from the pen as I tried to pet the tiny, squealing, piglets. “One day they must be carted away and slaughtered.”

  I later understood why she kept her distance. Inga knew that one day I too would be taken away. A knock would rattle the cottage and as the door opened my true master would be revealed. Inga had made a deal—not with the devil, but with a being just as evil. In exchange for a protective spell that shielded her garden from early frosts, Inga had promised me to Mael Voss.

  When I was younger I made a few feeble attempts to talk to my new master about his journeys, his work, or anything at all. I was alone, and desperate to hear another voice. But Voss brushed me aside, his cold disdain crueler than any slap. So I learned to talk to myself and the animals that roam the halls of the palace—bear and fox, owl and rabbit and reindeer. All of them conjured into creatures that can perform simple tasks. Paws transformed into hands, hooves into claws. Yet despite their presence my conversations are one-sided. Voss never grants these creatures the power of speech. They understand my commands but can’t respond.

  I sit upright as a hare hops onto my bed, a slip of paper in his hand-like paws. He drops the paper onto my bearskin coverlet and leaps away, racing through the small opening Voss insisted on carving into my door. He wants his messengers to reach me, whatever the hour.

  I glance at the paper with blurry eyes, registering Voss’s command. I must meet him in the Great Hall. I’ve slept later than usual and know it’s due to my failed attempt to kidnap Kai. I’ve yet to design a new plan to lure him to the palace, and sleep offers escape from my darker thoughts.

  Dressing swiftly, I hear a noise and turn to see Luki bounding from his bed of furs. He approaches me, his eyes bright with expectation.

  “I suppose you’re wanting breakfast.” I pull on my boots. “First we must see what Voss demands of me. But come along—we’ll stop by the kitchens on our return.”

  The pup follows me down passageways of glittering ice. My inside boots, stitched of soft leather, make no sound on the stone floors. The palace is built inside a mountain and maintains the architecture of its great caverns and meandering tunnels. I was often lost that first year after Voss brought me to the palace, but eventually learned to navigate every inch of the frozen rooms and corridors.

  “This way,” I say, although I assume the pup will trail me wherever I go. I drag open the heavy doors leading into the Great Hall. They clang against the walls and a fissure runs through one large block of ice. It’s of no concern. I flick my hand and the ice repairs itself as I stride into the hall, Luki padding behind me. I feel the pup creep upon the train of my robes when I stop short just inside the door.

  The Great Hall does justice to its name. No ice blocks line its walls—this room is built in a cave that opens upon the world. A row of tall, arched windows marches along the stone outer wall, providing a view across a wide expanse of snow-clad lands. The thick glass set in the windows is clear enough to display the jagged ridge of mountains rising against the far horizon. A domed ceiling soars above the chamber, braced by rafters boasting the breadth of towering trees. In the center of the room stands a wooden table so large a small boat could dock upon its surface.

  The mirror lies flat upon this table. My task. My challenge. My nemesis.

  Voss’s enchanted looking glass possesses a rustic frame of dark wood, thick as the span of a man’s hand. The graceful lines of the vaulted ceiling are reflected in the lower portion of the mirror. The upper third, though, remains dark. I have yet to fit all the shards in place upon the oak backing board.

  “Ah, Thyra.” Voss gazes out one of the windows. “Prompt as always. One of your more endearing traits.”

  He turns, swirling his black velvet robes about his tall, spindly, figure. He never wears anything like the fur cloaks and woolen gowns he provides for me. His clothing reflects the grandeur of some ancient court. I suspect he has preserved his garments along with his body.

  As I lift my chin to stare into his face, I am taken aback, as always, by the ferocity that blazes from his gray eyes. “You commanded my presence, Master?”

  Voss’s smile flashes like a knife slicing his smooth face. His skin is as unlined and pale as a sculpture carved from packed snow. He could pass for a young man, if one did not look into his eyes, or examine his strangely aged hands. “Yes. It has come to my attention that only five months remain for you to complete the mirror. And yet, yesterday you flew off to some village to gawk at skaters. This does not seem like a sensible approach to completing your assigned task, my queen.” The last word is spoken, as always, with mockery.

  “All part of my plan.” My voice is calm. I place my hands behind my back before I clench them into fists. Memories of the pain I endured when Voss imbued me with magic always threaten to overwhelm me when I’m in his presence. But I’ve trained myself to never show anger, or fear. “I’ve done well, as even you must admit. But my calculations reveal I need another pair of hands to meet our goal. I’ve recently discovered someone who I believe can help me.”

  “Ah, the young man.” Voss moves closer to me, gliding over the stone floor in a way that makes me question the state of his lower body. “So you’d bring a human to the palace, Thyra? Did I ever give you leave to do so?”

  I clasp my hands tightly. “I’m still human.” This is true, despite my magical prowess, at least for five more months. “And I thought you’d applaud any measure that recreates your precious mirror.”

  Voss’s angular face might have been sculpted from snow, for all the color highlighting his sharp cheekbones. “You think this boy will do your bidding? I have given you many powers, but such command is not among them.”

  “Then perhaps you should grant me that ability.” I don’t drop my gaze. One can’t look away from a demon and live.

  “I could, but what then what would stop you from controlling me? No, my queen, you must find another way.”

  “There is no other way.” I note the cruel curve of his thin lips before taking a gamble. “You have never explained to me why the mirror is so important to you. Perhaps knowing its purpose might aid me in my work.”

  Voss waves aside my query with one narrow hand. “It has nothing to do with you, Snow Queen.”

  “The mirror’s curse has everything to do with me. It will reduce me to a wraith if I do not complete my task in time.”

  “True. And that is all you need to know, Thyra Winther.” Voss’s eyes glitter like the scales of a snake.

  “I just find it strange. I didn’t think you so vain you would put so much stock in a looking glass.”

  Voss’s lips pull back, baring his sharp white teeth. “Am I not worthy of such vanity? I am old, Thyra. Older than you know.” Voss runs a hand through his long white hair. “Yet I will look young while your average village beauty ages into a wrinkled crone. You possess the same power.”

  “If I complete the mirror in time.” I step forward and feel the pull of Luki’s weight upon my train. Flicking the bottom of my robe with one hand, I dislodge the pup, who tumbles out from behind me.

  “And what is this?” Voss’s crystalline eyes narrow. “I’ve warned you never to br
ing a wolf into this palace.”

  “He’s part of my plan.” I bend and lift Luki into my arms before Voss can move toward him. “He’s my bait. The boy, Kai Thorsen, loves animals. I’m using this pup to draw him to me.”

  “It did not work yesterday. Do not look shocked. I have ways to watch over you.” Voss crosses to the mirror and presses his hand against the empty portion. “Perhaps I should convert him. The wolf, I mean. Give him fingers and see if he can assist you in your task.”

  “No, no.” I clutch Luki so tightly he yelps. “You’ve said it yourself—wolves are too intelligent to conjure into servants. Leave him be. He may still prove a useful lure.”

  Voss caresses the completed surface of the mirror. “Perhaps. And I do give you leave to bring the boy here, if you can. Whatever is required to finish your work. You are my best hope, and for that reason I am willing to make allowances.” He turns and leans against the edge of the table, staring at me. “Did you never question why I chose you as my latest queen?”

  I lower Luki to the floor. He spins around twice before pressing his body against the soft leather of my boots. “I assumed it was because I was an orphan. Easy to bargain with someone like Inga for my life, and no one to miss me when you spirited me away.”

  “That was part of it, yes. And I sensed your cleverness, even as a child, even from afar. The wind that blew you from certain death was sent by me.”

  “I know.” I also know he could have saved my parents, if he’d wished. “I’m not always certain I should thank you for that.”

  “You should bless me.” Voss whips his cloak closer about his body. “I have given you life, and great power, and immortality.”

  “If I complete the mirror before my birthday.”

  “Regardless, you still have eternal life.” Voss examines me like some potion whose ingredients elude him.

  “As a wraith. Hardly my idea of a blessing.”

  “Yes, that would be unfortunate. You see, Thyra, I have a special interest in you beyond my desire for the mirror’s magic. I should like”—he turns his head slightly so I can no longer see his eyes—“the final, everlasting, Snow Queen to be of my lineage.”

  A river of ice rushes through my veins, freezing a body that should not feel the cold. “What do you mean?”

  “Look at yourself, my queen. Do you not see the resemblance? Oh, many, many decades separate us, it is true. But you are my descendent, born from the line my nephew established when I disappeared from his village, and his life, forever.”

  “That can’t be true.” I clench my leg muscles until Luki whimpers, obviously sensing the tension radiating through my boots.

  “It is. I selected you the day you were born. Your parents suspected this. Your father caught me once, watching you. It was a tale long told in his family—the old man of the mountains, the wizard of the storms. The thief who would come in the night to steal children from their beds. Somehow he sensed the danger to you. Why else do you think they were fleeing that day? What else could compel your parents to take that mountain pass in the dead of winter?”

  I sense the truth in his words and vow, were our destinies not linked, I would kill him where he stands. I’d strike him with one of the shards piled in a wooden box upon the table. A piece of his own mirror to pierce his heart. I’d do it, if I’d merely die. But I know from the unfortunate fates of some of the wraiths that Voss’s death won’t break the mirror’s hold on me. His spell may have trapped me initially, but now even he can’t alter the consequences of my failure. My mortal death would simply hasten my transformation into a wraith.

  “So you see, Thyra, why I have such a fondness for you. Enough to allow you to follow your foolish plan to lure that boy here. Enough to resist harming the wolf pup you should never have brought into my presence.”

  “You have no fondness.” I forge steel to edge my voice. “Not for me or any living creature, besides yourself. And as for allowing me anything—you still need my hands and mind to fulfill your dearest desire. I’d not harm anything of mine, not if you wish to live.”

  Voss eyes me coldly. “To live? What makes you think you can do anything to kill me? You possess no such power.”

  “No? Then why do I detect a glimmer of fear in your eyes?” I smile. Like my master, my smile does nothing to warm my expression. I have confirmed this in my own, quite ordinary, mirror.

  “That is your imagination, playing tricks on you.” Voss turns aside and gazes out the window. “Well, my queen, since you have denied me the joy of transforming this wolf, perhaps I should have you bring me another creature to conjure. I feel like exercising my powers today. A reindeer, I think. That should not be difficult.” He spins around, his robes swirling like smoke. “Bring it to the stables by this afternoon or I shall find a way to rid this palace of that pup.”

  I stand for a moment, staring at his expressionless face. I know I’ve been dismissed.

  “Come, Luki.” I turn and stride to the door.

  “You’ve named it?” Voss’s voice bores into my brain. “A foolish whim, Thyra, from one who cannot afford such luxuries.”

  I simply stalk off down the hall, Luki trotting in my wake.

  BACK IN MY CHAMBERS I clothe myself in a tunic and breeches of tanned reindeer hide and toss on a brown bearskin cloak. I’ve not hunted reindeer for some time, and then only to kill for food. To capture such a creature and bring it safely to the palace will require considerable craft and cunning.

  Luki attempts to follow me when I leave my chambers but I close the door in his face, knowing he can’t squeeze through the opening used by the rabbit. He’s too young to be of any use to me today. He’s more likely to scare off prey than provide any assistance.

  I hitch one of our reindeer to the sledge. Like all herd animals, it will be easier to manage another of its kind if it has a companion, even a domesticated one.

  We glide over the icy landscape for many miles before I spy a herd of reindeer in the distance. I ease the sledge to a stop and climb off. Creeping over the hard-packed snow I crouch low, a length of rope coiled about my arm. One of the reindeer lifts its head and peers in my direction, instantly alerting the others. They wheel about, forming a tight pack. Every shaggy brown head is turned toward me, though I don’t believe they can see me through the swirl of snow I’ve spun about my body. But I’ve no powers over scent, and that’s their alarm. They thunder off in the opposite direction—a great mass of flanks and hooves flying away from me.

  All but one. An older creature, by his grizzled muzzle. He’s been caught in the storm I’ve sent too late to halt the herd. Thrusting his head against the wind, he tries to rejoin his fellows, but the force is too much for him. He’s trapped, unable to move in any direction.

  I approach him slowly, uncoiling my rope. As I reach his head his eyes roll until the whites show and I jump back to avoid his slashing hooves. There’s nothing for it then. I take a deep breath and concentrate, slowing his heartbeat just enough to cause his head to droop. As his eyes close I toss the rope about his neck and pull it tight. He jerks his head back, but he’s fallen into too deep a stupor to fight me. I expel a breath, hoping this allows his heart to regain a more normal rhythm. I don’t want him dead, merely docile.

  I guide the reindeer along the path I’ve already trod in the snow and tie him firmly to the hitch on the back of the sledge. Jumping onto the wooden planks, I slap the reins hard against my tame reindeer’s flank. She takes off at a fast trot. The captured reindeer runs behind us. It pulls against the rope but is sensible enough to keep up to avoid falling. No such creature will risk a broken leg, even to escape.

  Back at the stables I unhitch my domesticated animal and dry her steaming flanks before I release her into the paddock. I then turn my attention to my prize, who’s still attached to the sledge. His head hangs low, but I can see life and vigor returning to his dark eyes. I quickly tie him between two hitching rings and whistle a sparrow to me. It perches on my finger, a small cylinder
attached to its tiny leg. I breathe into my hand, creating a perfect ice crystal I place in the container, then flick my finger to send the bird on its way. I know Voss will receive and understand my message.

  He appears several minutes later, wearing a crimson cloak over his black robes. His clear eyes shine with an expression I know only too well. I have seen that look—it is carved into my soul. When he laid hands on me to imbue me with the magic I needed as Snow Queen, I stared into his ageless face far too long while pain wracked my body. Burning, yes, like liquid fire. And he smiled then, just as now.

  “I see you’ve fulfilled my demand. Very good.” Voss checks over the reindeer, who trembles violently at his touch. “You may go now, my queen. My work is best accomplished alone.”

  I depart swiftly, not meeting the reindeer’s eyes.

  LATER I STEAL OUT OF the palace and make my way back to the stables. I want to see what changes Voss has wrought upon the unsuspecting beast, if only to prepare myself for the first time it’s presented to me. I don’t want to give Voss the satisfaction of viewing my shock over his latest creation.

  The scent of hay and the sound of grain ground between broad teeth permeate the stables. The heat of animal bodies causes a mist to cloud the cold air. I make my way to a corner stall. The reindeer stands with his head pressed in the corner, far from the trough holding his feed and water.

  “You must eat and drink.” I can discern no obvious physical changes in the animal, but I haven’t yet seen its face.

  “Bah-h-h ... ” A noise erupts from the reindeer’s throat and I jump back. It doesn’t resemble the sounds I’ve heard from any animal.