The Ice Queen Read online

  Alador cleared his throat once they walked through the entryway toward the main part of the castle.

  She’d purposefully designed it to look like her own ice palace back home. With multiple rooms hewn from thick blocks of blue ice that sparkled and gleamed like cut diamonds in the noonday sun. She’d injected the ice with a form of bioluminescence that would always glow day or night so that use of lights wasn’t a necessity.

  Honestly she was surprised the magick inside this place had allowed her to design the castle. And while it was tempting to be happy that she could, she suspected that the palace was merely an illusion of safety.

  Her stomach twisted up in tight knots of apprehension as her mind dreamed up a million different things that could happen to them this night. But it was all speculation, and the last thing she wanted was to stress any of them out worse than they’d already been.

  She looked at Alador. He was staring at the palace with wide, curious eyes.

  Luminesa couldn’t help but wonder if he liked it or thought it cold and sterile.

  He bowed deeply. “I will find a room. But first I’d like to visit the children.”

  It’d never occurred to her that he might want to. She frowned. “Why?”

  And though his nostrils flared, his words were gentle. “Because they are children, Ice Queen.”

  She frowned harder. He’d called her Ice Queen again. It shouldn’t bother her. Biting down on her back teeth, she swallowed the question on the tip of her tongue. The one that demanded to know why he still refused to use her true name after she’d gone to the effort to give it to him.

  Then surprising even herself, she pointed her thumbs in opposite directions. “The girl, if she is now done eating, would be sleeping in the West and the boy in the East.”

  His hooves clacked against the ice as he moved toward the west, she watched him go with eyes as wide and round as saucers. But he stopped, and turned to look back at her.

  And again her heart did that stupid, stuttery beat in her chest. She curled her fingers against her breast, wondering what it was about the male that discombobulated her so.

  “Do you feel anything at all? Or are you chiseled from the same ice this palace is?” he asked.

  His arm gestured wide, encompassing the whole of the place and Luminesa could only blink, as her thoughts continued to try and suffocate her.

  Though the words stung, there was no bite or condemnation to them. Merely curiosity.

  Luminesa felt tongue tied and unsure of herself or how to even answer him. All she could seem to do was breathe and swallow and stand there like a fool.

  Grunting, he shook his head and on his face was a look of such genuine disappointment that she felt it as keenly as if he’d slapped her. Handsome visage twisted in a deep scowl, Alador turned and left without saying another word. She watched him go, standing like a statue even once he was long gone.

  Clutching fingers to her breast, she told herself that he was nothing. That these people were nothing to her. That she was here for one purpose only, to thwart the Goblin’s plans for her.

  She swallowed hard, wondering why there was such a strange lump in her throat of a sudden.

  Baatha’s shrill cry was what finally caused Luminesa to turn.

  He circled her head, once, twice, and then a third time to let her know he wished her to follow.

  And like an automaton she did, but her head was aswirl with a jumble of thoughts. How was she was supposed to set about freeing them, why had the Under Goblin done as he’d done, and why did Alador’s words continue to echo through the recesses of her thoughts?

  He’d asked her if she felt.

  Did she feel?

  Looking back through her new life she tried to spot a moment where she’d really felt something. A spark of anger. A spark of desire. Fury. Fear. Curiosity...but everywhere she looked for it, she came up empty.

  There’d been annoyance, and irritation, but those had been very low lying emotions, hardly even skin deep. The one time she’d really felt something was the day she realized how truly evil the Under Goblin was, but even then her conviction hadn’t been soul crushing.

  But all of that paled in comparison to what she’d felt the moment her eyes had landed on Alador’s. That quivering, soul-stealing thread of anxiety that’d tunneled like a hot, little worm through her lower stomach.

  And how her frozen heart had beat so hard in her chest it’d felt like pain the first time it’d happened.

  Baatha wound up a spiraling staircase; she knew where he was leading her after a moment. To the study in the upper tower.

  Dragging her fingers along the blocks of ice she inhaled deeply, allowing the cold to seep into her veins, to turn her pleasantly numb again. She smiled as the burgeoning pain, worries, and questions slowly eased out of her. The ice taking her fears and giving her that blank, emptiness back.

  The peace of feeling nothing again.

  That familiar emotion of stark barrenness where nothing hurt. Nothing pained her and nothing could ever hurt her again.

  Landing on the top step, she turned and opened the ice door of the study. She’d not built a roof on this part of the palace, and so she stood out in the open, staring at the sky that danced with millions of flurries, losing herself in the peaceful tranquility of darkness that now blanketed this cursed place.

  Baatha landed on her shoulder, his talons digging deeply into her shoulder, causing blood to trickle down her icy frame in red, frozen rivulets.

  Above the lights of night danced, a painting of neon green and vivid blues that undulated through the sky like the belly scales of a snake.

  Inhaling the frosty nip of the air, she quieted the jumbled thoughts in her head and simply allowed herself to become one with the ice and blackness.

  No more doubts. No more questions. She would be methodical. Cold. Calculating. She would work out the Goblin’s riddle and she would send them home and then she would leave and never look back, never wonder about the centaur with eyes as green as spring.

  ~*~

  Alador

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find when he reached the first tower. The children huddled into themselves crying out from pain and hunger and begging for him to save them. It was with shock when he opened the door and instead found Kai bundled under several layers of thick, dark fur.

  The room softly aglow with a strange sort of flame from the corner hearth. The fire was crystalline in color, a shifting rainbow of shades as it burned and gave off its heat, making the room warm and comfortable.

  Twirling, he stared at a table laden down with fruits, cheeses, and nuts. Pitchers of juice sat there as well. Frowning, he walked over to the table, picked up a square of yellow cheese, sniffed it—it smelled slightly grassy and nutty—then popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

  It was delicious.

  Soft, but not too soft, with a sharp nip to it.

  Clenching his teeth, he turned back to look at the boy.

  The tow-headed child had his hands tucked beneath his cheek, his rosebud lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply without the strain of a frown between his brows.

  Hooves muffled by the plush tanned carpet covering every square inch of the floor, Alador made his way over to the bed and laid his fingers against the boy’s forehead.

  He was warm.

  Lifting the furs just a little, he noted a new pair of nightclothes on him too. The Queen had given him new clothes?

  Keeping his thoughts to himself, Alador turned and quietly left the room. Walking the long distance between Kai’s room to Gerda’s, arriving several long minutes later.

  And again he found the same thing.

  Frowning in puzzlement he stared at the blond-haired, pixie-faced girl who slept as peacefully as her brother.

  Why had the Queen done this?

  Her hatred of humans was legendary. She’d banished the children without so much as a backward glance. Alador had expected the worst. Expected to see t
hem blue and shivering from the cold, or near to death. Not contented, not with full bellies, and sleeping soundly.

  He’d not expected to walk into their rooms and felt warmth. Seen fire.

  Not from her.

  Not from a Queen who cared for no one and nothing.

  Not from the woman who’d not deigned to answer a single one of his questions, the cold woman as beautiful as she was harsh.

  He’d accused her of feeling nothing, and she’d not even defended herself.

  Why?

  Exhaustion laced every inch of his bones. He desperately needed sleep. Needed food. But his brain would not stop wondering, couldn’t stop wondering why she’d done this. Why she’d come for them.

  Leaving Gerda’s room, he walked down several winding halls before stopping to stare out the icy window at a night that seemed to stretch on into eternity. Above, the borealis danced with fairy light, hypnotizing him for a moment.

  The palace was enormous. Grander than any space he’d been in before. A centaur’s home was little more than a nest of hay to bed down into for the night. When the weather turned bad, occasionally they’d build a hut to keep the worst of the snow off them, but that was it.

  His kind did not enjoy the feeling of being enclosed, he craved the outdoors, the vast expanse of forest. But even he wouldn’t have lasted long in this raging storm of ice and snow.

  Muttering beneath his breath he shoved fingers through his hair with one hand, while he rested his other palm against the frozen block of wall.

  It was the strangest thing, the wall was ice. But, it was also warm.

  Which was bizarre, it should be little more than a melted puddle at his feet, and yet there was a perfect balance between cold and hot. A strange blue glow filtered from it, casting a radiance down the halls and through the rooms so that it was never truly dark.

  Picking at the wall with his nail, he frowned at the glittering beauty of it. There was something oddly appealing about this place.

  Cold, foreboding, and yet...alluring. Much like the creator herself.

  And as though his thoughts had conjured the woman, when Alador glanced back out into the night, there she was. Standing as a sentinel, exposed to the cruel elements. But not buried by it, not like he and the children had been.

  The queen—Luminesa—was one with the fury of it. Her long hair blew like a banner in the breeze behind her. Her arms were held high above her hand, and from her fingertips it seemed as though the ice danced for her, it swayed rhythmically above her.

  In profile her face was even more harshly pretty. The gown she wore that looked as though it’d been built from ice sparkled like the flame that glowed in the hearths, lighting up the night so that she shone brighter than even the beams that swayed through the sky.

  His fingers dug into the wall as he gazed at her.

  Alador had only ever known the rumors. That she was cruel beyond imagining. A harsh mistress never to be angered, and always to be feared. He’d grown up hearing the stories of her as a child, that if you did not do as your parents demanded the Ice Queen would come and eat you in your sleep.

  That she loathed humans, and would as soon drop them from a thousand foot cliff than show them even a measure of kindness. Then he’d grown into a man and his suspicions had only been confirmed by the knowledge of the treaty his people were forced to endure every time they needed to cross over into her border.

  For so long the Ice Queen had been an enigma, the boogey-man they feared, the ruler they loathed.

  And yet there she stood, silent, alone, and with her face tipped up to the sky with a look of desolate abandon.

  She was no monster.

  Not that he could see.

  No, what he did see was a woman set aside. One possibly so terrified of feeling anything at all that she’d closed herself off to the world.

  Keeping to herself not because she hated others—clearly if she could tend to the children as she had, she was not evil—but because maybe she no longer knew how to interact with anyone other than her creatures.

  What had turned her into this?

  Her lips moved and Alador caught himself wishing he could hear what she said, what words fell from her lips with such solemnity that even at such a great distance he knew she suffered.

  Planting his free hand on the pane of ice so smooth it was glass, he shook his head. Not sure why he cared as he did.

  One thing she and his kind had in common was their disinterest in the outside lives of others.

  Except for him.

  Alador had never much been like his people. Physically, yes. But emotionally, spiritually, where it really counted, he’d never been centaur enough.

  Because he did care. He’d always cared deeply for the plights of others. A bone of contention between he and his sister was his fascination for the humans who lived on the steeps.

  And now, here in the middle of a barren landscape, he found that same fascination for others begin to blossom for a woman built of ice, but who had a heart made of fire.

  Chapter 6

  Luminesa

  She should leave.

  Leave and never come back.

  Yes, it would mean defeat. Yes, she’d be thrust back into a cruel world which she’d very nearly not survived before, she’d make sure that the Under Goblin did no harm to the inhabitants inside first.

  Somehow she’d make certain the children were returned to their families, the male to his herd.

  But even as she thought it, her lips twisted into a tight scowl and her heart hammered with fury at her own weakness.

  How could she even think it?

  How could she ever be expected to return back to human and be happy, be normal again? She watched as a crystal of ice floated down on the gentle breeze.

  Tracking its graceful swirls of movement with her eyes, watching as its twelve-pointed crystalline shape moved to settle into the pile of snow gathering high at her feet, disappearing and becoming invisible within its mass.

  That’s what she’d be if she failed.

  Nothing but clutter on the ground.

  Vanished, unimportant.

  That gorgeous piece of ice, the only one in existence of its kind, made unimportant the moment it’d settled into the pile.

  Who would she be without her ice?

  Helpless?

  Alone?

  Frightened of her own shadow again?

  Baatha’s sharp cry pierced the veil of night. She glanced up, and smiled softly, in awe of his natural grace and beauty.

  Holding out her arm, she waited for him to land on it. The moment he did her snowy falcon friend rubbed his soft-feathered head against the side of her neck. Sighing deeply, she rubbed her fingers idly down the side of his face.

  The sky was full of dancing lights, piercing stars, and silvery-blue clouds pregnant with snow. The air smelled of crisp pine, and frosted berries, and nipped at her nose with its wintery kiss.

  “For years Baatha I’ve been alone. Devoid of human, or semi-human interaction, I do not know if I can do this now. How do I even start?”

  He screeched, and she looked deeply into his golden-tawny colored eyes. So wise, and full of intelligence. She nodded, having lived with him as her constant companion the past hundred years, she’d learned his language.

  Learned what each shrill cry meant as though he’d spoken to her in her own tongue. And just as she knew him, he’d come to know her.

  “You are right, I did not think this through.”

  His chest feathers ruffled and he bumped his sharp beak into her cheek, then blinked at her twice.

  He’d been angry at her earlier for deciding to come on this journey, not able to understand her sudden about face for coming out to the people trapped here.

  Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure herself why she’d done it.

  It went against everything she was now, and yet...sometimes when the loneliness of her existence became too deep she’d remember the woman she had used to be.


  The one who could laugh easily and often.

  Who’d been able to tell tales, and make jokes.

  The one who’d smile with a heart full of glad tidings. Who’d had a heart for the unfortunate, and the downtrodden. Who’d believed in the general goodliness of the people around her.

  The woman she’d been before the night that’d stripped her of her soul and had turned her into a creature as unfeeling and uncaring as the ice she loved so much.

  Shaking her head, she watched as a small shower of diamond polished flakes fell off the crown of her head to land at her bare feet.

  In that deep darkness she gave voice to the innermost fears of her heart.

  “When I saw him, Baatha, I felt again.”

  Her whispered words sounded like a ghostly wail on the wind. And for the first time since the genie had given her the power of ice, she shivered. Hugging her arms to her chest, but not from cold.

  Rather from some innate knowledge that things were about to change for her. Portentous things. Like she’d come to a fork in the road, one smooth and barren and free of obstacles and another that was choked with weeds and treacherous holes throughout.

  And though she knew she should have chosen the cleared path, she also knew that by coming here she’d somehow taken the rickety and dangerous trail.

  Mouth dry, and palms actually sweating, she held them up before her, watching as curls of steam wafted off them into the night.

  “I sweat.” Her words sounded shocked, strained, and even slightly of fear.

  Baatha moved his head toward her first palm, rubbing the side of his face against it, allowing the magicked tears to fall from his eyes and rim her hand in frost once more.

  He repeated the same process on the other hand before turning to look back at her with curiosity burning bright in his tawny eyes.

  Feeling choked up, Luminesa swallowed hard.

  She was feeling things, not just emotionally, but physically as well. Already she was changing. And the thought was terrifying.

  Curling her hands tight to her breast, she gazed at the blizzard in front of her without really seeing anything and whispered, “I feel, Baatha. I’m beginning to feel again.”

  His sharp cry rang in her ears. A question that demanded an answer. Was it good what she felt? Would this change her forever? Would he lose her?