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 sho
ok 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.
“Welcome to the Claret,” Jagger said as he let go of my waist.
I shoved him not so gently away. My head was full of questions—but they would have to wait because all my brain cells were currently trying to comprehend the building before me. This wasn’t one of my dreams, but it very well could have been.
It was hard to tell if the castle was English or Russian, but it looked like a chimera, a mythical creature composed of part man and part lion. I half expected to see part of a pyramid on the other side of the Claret.
The combination of building materials was seamless. Wavy glass met the bottom of the highly decorative Russian palace, which in turn flowed into the English battlement wall’s stones, which led into a pointy cone steeple that connected to a set of Roman columns topped with a triangle of marble filled with tiny sculptures. And on either side of the castle was a dense forest unlike any I had ever seen. The trees, the thicket, and the grass were all red. The Lights in the sky were dimmer than even the night before, their colors fading into the dark sky, making the red all that more stark in contrast.
Something told me that Jagger really, really wanted to show off this view.
“Come on,” he said, and began to move toward it.
“You live here?” I asked, processing. “You said I was a princess. Are you some kind of a prince? Because I have no intention of getting married anytime soon…”
I had read too many fairy tales, but even so, I was pretty sure happily ever after wasn’t how my story ended.
“Relax, Princess, I’m not that kind of prince,” he countered lightly, still walking toward the castle and staring at the facade as if he, too, were still fascinated by its existence.
“What other kind of prince is there?”
I stood my ground for a beat. Some part of me did not want to follow until I had answers. But when the wind picked up, I could see him shiver. I could stay outside forever. But maybe Jagger would be more talkative inside.
When we got to the castle’s giant wrought-iron double doors, they opened automatically. I hesitated. He glanced at me, as if to say it was only a few more steps after coming all this way.
I stepped over the threshold and into the Claret. The anteroom was as eclectic as the facade, in contrast to Kai’s home, which was economical and perfect. Jagger’s was massive and the opposite of organized. Every style of decor from modern to baroque was represented.
A trio of sculptures greeted us, each in a different style and material, depicting the same woman wearing a crown. I looked at the faces of the gold, silver, and bronze statues, looking for a likeness of my mother. The River Witch had said she was a queen, after all. But she was not the one depicted here. In every incarnation, the woman’s hair was wild, her smile was broad, and the expression more spirited than royal.
The floor of the anteroom glittered with a mosaic of colorful stone. The walls of the anteroom were covered in tapestries, each with a different crest. Does this place represent more than one kingdom? I wondered, trying to make sense of it.
The giant doors closed and locked behind me with a wave of Jagger’s hand. Is this a trap? I thought a second too late.
I looked at him hard. The desire to punch him again rose.
“How did you do that?” I demanded.
“I’m a borrower. A Robber. I am not like you, or a real witch. My gifts come from without, not within. I wasn’t so lucky.”
A thief. Was everything here borrowed? Even the facade?
“I don’t have any magic,” I argued, thinking that magic wasn’t what I would call it. A runaway, unwanted force of nature, maybe?
“You know you do,” Jagger said. “You just don’t know how to use it fully. I can help you with that … Maybe we can help you with that.”
We?
I already had a teacher in the River Witch. It was the Bale part that interested me. If he could help me get back to Bale, it didn’t really matter what he or his friends stole.
Turning back was not an option. Curiosity won out over my growing sense of dread. I walked with Jagger through the anteroom and into another room, ready to find out who “we” really were and how they would help me rescue Bale from the King.
20
The “we” turned out to be the girls from Stygian, the ones selling bits of magic in colorful bottles. When Jagger and I entered the Throne Room, I saw twenty or so girls lounging on velvet sofas. I searched for the one with green hair who had winked at me, but I could not find her among them. I had no idea who these people were or what was going on. If this was supposed to help me understand the truth, it wasn’t working.
Every single one of the girls was beautiful. In fact, they were a whole other level of pretty that surpassed what I saw on TV back at Whittaker. They were different sizes and shapes and colors. I had never seen skin like that before. Each girl’s skin shared a mysterious glow with the aurora borealis, which had no business being above wherever the heck we were.
As we approached, I felt twenty pairs of eyes following us.
“That is Margot,” Jagger whispered, pointing to a platinum blonde with an angular, brown face.
She was sitting on a throne decorated with gems. Hers was the face that I had seen cast in metal.
“She considers herself a queen, and us her subjects.”
“Back at Whittaker, I knew people who considered themselves all sorts of things,” I whispered.
Even if I hadn’t recognized her image, I would have known she was their leader. She was holding court. The girls were busy talking and laughing, but they were stealing glances at her for approval. And judging from her smile and her posture, she was enjoying every second of it.
Jagger stuck close to my side, and I wasn’t sure if he was being protective or territorial. The stares from the girls ranged from daggers to curiosity.
“Queen Margot, may I present Princess Snow of Algid,” Jagger said with a flourish and a bow when we finally reached her.
I was suddenly embarrassed by my simple pale-green dress. The clothes that Gerde had made me were a marked improvement over my gray Whittaker wear, but these girls took fashion to another level in the same way Kai had taken architecture. They were vibrant flowers, and standing in their presence, I felt like a common weed.
Jagger rose, meeting Queen Margot’s gaze with a humility I hadn’t seen in any of our previous encounters. It was clear that she had sent him to get me. But to what end?
I bowed my head to her, too—not out of deference, but a tactical decision that I hoped would pay off. A bow from who she thought was a real princess should count for something.
“You honor me, Princess Snow,” Margot said with a tight smile that seemed to cover the giddiness that my gesture sparked. “It’s not every day we are graced with true royalty. And by someone as infamous as you, to boot. The King is looking for you. It’s not safe for you out there, wandering the woods of Algid alone. I’m glad you chose to seek asylum within the walls of the Claret.”
Jagger shot me a sideways glance and a toothy grin that said he was impressed.
“Everyone, welcome Princess Snow,” Queen Margot instructed, her voice formal and lilting.
There was a shift in the crowd, which instantly came to attention. The girls scrambled to their feet within seconds.
One, if possible even prettier than
the rest, stumbled forward and curtsied. Her hair was deep red, and she had medium-brown skin. Her eyes were also brown, but rimmed with gold.
“We’re not used to being around actual royalty,” the girl said. Her voice was filled to the brim with sarcasm. She bent into another exaggerated curtsy but was unsteady on her feet and ended up falling on her perfect bum.
“Enough, Fathom,” Queen Margot warned.
The red-haired girl retreated to her overstuffed chaise, still laughing. There was something in the way she looked at me that felt familiar.
Margot gave me a sympathetic look. “Jagger, why don’t you show the Princess to her room? She can get acquainted with the girls in the morning.”
I’m pretty sure “acquainted” isn’t what Margot means, I thought, feeling very unwelcome in the crowd. At least in this place, my cage would be a gilded one. I just hoped it had a lock to keep Fathom out. I didn’t know her, but I suspected she would be trouble. I could feel it.
I didn’t have time for the drama. I was here for a purpose. I needed us both to just get to it, despite Jagger’s look that told me to hold back and play it out at Margot’s pace.
“Did Jagger tell you what I require?” I asked. “He said you could help me get my friend back from the King’s castle.”
“Did he, now?” she said with a laugh that denoted that Jagger might have made a promise that he could not deliver.
“I will give you whatever you want in exchange. But time is not on my side.”
Margot laughed again.
“If you are not interested, I will retrieve him myself,” I said, prepared to walk away.
“With your snowflakes, my dear?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling my cheeks begin to burn.
My knuckles began to itch; my claws about to stretch out.
I felt a surge of anger rise from within, but tried to tamp it down. I didn’t know what would happen if I couldn’t control my temper here. Would I bring on another ice storm? Or freeze the room solid? Or worse?
If they didn’t let me out of this room soon, it wouldn’t be my choice anymore.