Read Stealing Snow Page 27


  I landed on a bridge that crossed over where the moat merged with the River. My hands gripped the iron railing. I felt completely and utterly drained.

  But the King followed me to the bridge, snow carrying him through the air without wings, like a current. He landed softly beside me.

  The King sensed my weakness, too. I closed my eyes for the slowest of blinks, gathering strength I did not have as I rolled away from him. But he was too fast. He was over me again.

  I needed to get to my feet. But I was spent.

  I did what Rebecca Gershon would do when she faced Storm in this exact situation. (Well, not exactly. She had been kidnapped, but not by her demented patricidal father.) I tried talking to him, stalling as I waited for my power to return.

  “Why did you bring me to Algid? I never would have known about this place if you hadn’t taken Bale,” I said.

  My father cocked his head, considering. “You were always coming back here, Snow. It’s our fate.”

  Below us, I willed my Champions to defeat the beasts and the King’s soldiers. My snow was gone for the moment, but my Champions still followed my will.

  The giant Snow Wolf ate one of the Duchess’s soldiers as proof of its new combined power. I heard the Robber girls chanting something. At first I thought they needed me.

  But no. It was Margot’s name they were calling. What sounded like fireworks suddenly followed.

  A dozen grenades exploded on the King’s mega Snow Wolf. The Robber girls were now focusing all their efforts on one target instead of several. The Snow Wolf blew up into a billion bits of ice and frost. The blast spread so many pieces of it so far that even if it could find its way back together again, reconstruction would take time.

  I looked coldly at the King. “You were never meant to find me. And I’m not sure I’m buying into your insane prophecy, anyway,” I replied.

  “It is fated, my dear Snow. It is what will be. And you are just as magnificent as the prophecy said you would be,” the King said without a hint of irony.

  I realized something was wrong. My feet slipped on the icy surface of the bridge. My body felt even weaker. My hands shook when I called for more snow. Trembling, I reached for the vial that Howl had given me.

  The King knocked it out of my hand.

  A thin liquid spilled onto the light coating of snow that covered the ice. I reached down and scooped a handful of blue snow to my lips. I didn’t feel anything.

  “No cheating, Snow. It was hard for me at first, too. Until I met your mother, I killed countless people by accident,” the Snow King teased.

  And now he kills on purpose, I thought.

  I concentrated on what little snow was on top of the ice, whipping up the smallest of tornadoes. It took him by surprise and pushed him back toward the railing of the bridge. He tried to hold himself steady, but his feet slid backward and he was soon straining against the side of the bridge. I hoped the railing would break, for my father to fall into the water below. It would be perfect. It would be poetic.

  But it was not to be.

  My snow stopped swirling. I reached out my hands again and nothing happened. The air and the snow stilled and remained motionless. My father stood upright.

  “You possess such raw force. I can see that you have had some training, but whoever taught you really should have told you the most important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That you can’t make life without sacrifice.”

  And then I understood what he was saying. I had sacrificed my snow to bring my Champions to life.

  The King took another step toward me and restrained my arms. He shouldn’t have been able to reach me. I should have been able to stop him before he got so close.

  But I couldn’t. I looked up at the sky and concentrated on the cloud formation that was just beneath the North Lights. I willed it to come close to bring me more snow. But the clouds remained in the same spot. The North Lights themselves were a moody dark blue. They looked melancholy.

  “Don’t you worry, daughter. Your power’s not gone. It just takes a little recovery time. Unfortunately for you, you have run out of time. The throne is and always will be mine.”

  And for the second time in Algid, I felt a wave of cold wash over and through me. The King was trying to freeze me.

  I kicked him as hard as I could, but even when he released me, I could still feel the cold burrowing into the corners of my heart.

  My fingers felt paralyzed. My face felt twitchy, but every muscle was stuck in place. This was different from the battle with the Enforcer. The King was not going to hesitate for any reason. Certainly not out of love for his daughter.

  His eyes weren’t just cold; they were distant. They burned with an intense wanting that I didn’t quite understand.

  He came back again for more. And this time I was the one pushed toward the edge of the bridge. My body was half-suspended, and I could see the water below.

  This is not how I end, I told myself.

  I reached for his face with my claws and for my knife from my dress pocket. I managed to shove the dagger deep into his side, where the chain metal gaped open just enough for my blade to slide through to his flesh.

  The King roared in pain. I knew how he felt. The burning of the blade, the unforgiving heat that no amount of cold could temper. He responded with a head butt.

  The pain radiated through me, and my ears rang. The King put his hands around my throat, but he didn’t squeeze. He froze, overtaken by the dagger that I withdrew as forcefully as I had stabbed him. I felt myself slipping into whiteness.

  I thought of Bale and of me and him at the institute in happier times. Of the kiss near the window at Whittaker. Of the first time he had held my hand when we were so small. I would never get that back if I let myself go into the whiteness.

  A new rush of strength surged through me. It wasn’t much, but enough to create razor-sharp snowflakes. I concentrated, and the King’s face came back into focus. He was not faring well, either. His face strained with the effort of freezing me. My snowflakes fell from the sky onto his face. They were as hard as diamonds and as sharp as glass. They cut into the skin on his face and hands, just like in one of my dreams. Tiny red dots surfaced on his skin. My pulse quickened. I had drawn blood. Cadmium Red Deep. Same as Margot’s.

  Clutching his face, the King released me—and I turned my snow on him.

  I tried to freeze him, but nothing happened. I had run out of steam. I had run out of snow.

  My spiky flakes stopped falling from the sky.

  “You don’t know me,” I said, baiting him.

  I remembered The End of Almost. He had told me I was out of time. But I could make my own time. I could stall him.

  “But I do, Snow. More than you know. Sometimes you have to break things to find what’s unbreakable,” he added.

  The last words were not his. They were Dr. Harris’s. Had Temperly been right? Could Lazar really get inside anyone’s head? Had he gotten into mine?

  Before I could process my questions, I got a new answer. With a crush of skin and bone, Lazar’s face re-formed as one I knew very well: Dr Harris.

  “No … How? I don’t understand…”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” he said in Dr. Harris’s voice.

  “You … were there all along…”

  “Oh no,” he said, transforming back into the King. “I only borrowed the good doctor’s eyes when I needed to. I could not cross the Tree. Nor could I kill you there. It had to be here in Algid. But I could not go long without seeing my love. When love shuts a door, it opens a window.”

  The look on his face softened when he spoke of my mother. It was not a manipulation this time. He was still in love with her. Or at least his twisted version of it.

  “So Dr. Harris was a Shell?” I demanded.

  That part of the legend was true. The King could see through people. Maybe even control them.

  My mind raced. Dr. Harris had been a little too interested
in my mother. But I never thought this was possible. I never imagined this.

  “What an ugly word. I did not harm Dr. Harris.” He shook his head. “He is very much alive and well on the other side of the Tree. I found that with enough concentration, I could visit the minds of the very weak. Like your good doctor.”

  “Mom didn’t know …,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

  I thought of Mom and Dr. Harris’s last few interactions and how much she had been relying on him lately. He had spent years wearing her down, gaining her confidence. Her trust. She’d crossed into another land to protect us, only to have him stalk her through Dr. Harris.

  “You’re a monster. You’re the sick one,” I said.

  My eyes stung. I tried to make sense of my father’s evil.

  “Don’t cry, dear. I hate it when you cry. You never cried at Whittaker, even when Bale … Well, you know what happened to him. Don’t think that I didn’t care about that boy … and for you. Why else would I have brought him to me? I have plans for him. But I blame Ora. I did not want to know you. I did not want to feel anything for you. It’s harder to dispose of you now.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “What I’ve always wanted. I want you to die.”

  He gave me another shove—one that pushed me over the edge of the bridge. My claws came out and grabbed hold of the side of the bridge just in time. I hung there for a second, trying to pull myself up as he stepped back and reached out with a sword made of sharp, heavy translucent ice.

  He wielded it at me and in a flash cut off the snow claws on my right hand. I continued to hang on with my left. Beneath us the River raged.

  Maybe I could let go and the River Witch would fish me out again. But would she know where I was? Would she get to me in time?

  The River suddenly froze over. Spikes sprung up like a bed of nails. Clearly there would be no River Witch rescue or death by drowning if I fell now.

  “The truth is, I did not expect to like you so much. Or to see so much of myself in you,” he said, giving me an admiring look even though he intended to kill me.

  “So now what? You love me, so you’re going to spare me?” The words came out bitter and sarcastic. My arm felt weak, but I held on.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, raising his sword again.

  I made one last effort to summon my snow with my free hand.

  “Go to hell,” I spat at my father as the hilt came down.

  Without warning, my father was thrown up and away from me. I couldn’t see where or how or why.

  Jagger appeared over the top of the railing, “Miss me?” he said, kneeling down and pulling me to safety.

  I threw my arms around his neck. I had never been so happy to see him in my life.

  “You have no idea,” I said, sinking into his strong, lean chest.

  “I’d never leave you, Princess. Never,” he said with a solemnity that made me want to trust him. And more.

  “A shame, really, how love creates an opportunity for weakness,” the King interrupted from beyond the bridge.

  I looked at Jagger, who was studying me intently. He had come for me. But a small part of me still wondered if he was here for the mirror and nothing more.

  A scepter made of ice formed in the King’s hand. He pounded it against the base of the bridge. I heard a clash of thunder in the distance.

  “Run,” Jagger said, grabbing my hand and making for the opposite side of the bridge. I followed, not understanding, but trusting Jagger’s steps on the bridge as I had on the dance floor.

  “What is it?”

  “Thundersnow. Where there’s thunder, there’s lightning…”

  I heard the crack behind us as the bolt hit the bridge. It began to split down the center. We were forced to run in the other direction toward my father. Just as he intended.

  We could hear part of the bridge fall onto the frozen River below as we ran, our every step just an inch ahead of the tumbling snow. When we almost reached the other side, Jagger and I jumped and landed on the snowbank. Our bodies tangled together in a painful but welcome fall.

  I felt a sliver of snow come back to me just as Jagger willed me on.

  “Get up, Snow.”

  And as he pulled me to my feet, I saw a new danger. The King had gotten ahead of us and let loose a barrage of icy discs like the ones that had killed Margot.

  I returned fire, but a couple of my icicles only dropped a few of the flakes.

  The King sent another round of spiky discs in my direction. They would cut us to bits unless I could counter them with my snow.

  Jagger produced a sword and with vial-aided dexterity, cut each approaching disc down.

  The King laughed and threw a squadron of icicles next.

  I wasn’t fast enough. I managed to shoot off a single snow-cicle. But I had nothing left to shield me from the King’s next wave.

  “Robbers don’t usually show such loyalty, boy,” the King said.

  “You have no right to speak for my people,” Jagger spit back.

  “Leave him out of it! Hell, leave me out of it. I already told you, I don’t want any of this. You can keep your stupid crown. Just give me Bale and let me go.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t up to you. I have to be sure the prophecy is over. I can’t leave this up to chance or the Eclipse of the Lights. You have so much power already. In a few days, it might be too much …” He raised his hand again.

  Jagger pulled back and threw a fire dagger at the King. It hit his armor but did not even leave a mark.

  I shot off some more snow and concentrated on the ground behind him. A half-formed Champion rose behind the King in the snow, ready to impale him with an icicle. But the King was stronger and faster than me. He sent an ice spear straight to my heart.

  The spear flew through the air. Closer. Closer. My Champion fell to the ground.

  No! I thought. Not now. Not like this.

  At the last second, a blur of mat-black armor jumped in front of me. The spear went straight through as his body fell to the ground. Jagger let off a round of fire, stunning the King momentarily.

  It was the Enforcer. He had saved me, and in the process he’d sacrificed his life for mine. I leaned down and removed his helmet.

  I heard a far-off scream that I realized was my own.

  The Enforcer was Bale. My Bale.

  42

  Bale lay in the center of the ground, not moving.

  My hands shook over the gaping hole that went right through his armor.

  I looked up at Jagger. “Please help him … This is our deal. The mirror for Bale. Robber Rules.”

  Jagger’s handsome face was twisted in confusion. “Even after all this? You still love him?”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t say what Jagger wanted me to say.

  “Even if I could, I don’t have a vial for this, Snow. The wound’s too deep.”

  I needed Bale to wake up so I could start hating him or he could give me a reason to keep loving him. Nothing made sense. How could he work for the Snow King? How could he hurt that kid in the square? How could he be the one that Gerde and Kai had told me such awful things about? The one who’d come and hunted me at the ball?

  Was he still the Bale I knew? The one who’d grown up with me on the other side of the Tree? Or was this the part of him that I’d always seen but could never quite reach—the part of him that loved fire and loved to watch it burn everything in its wake? Was that what appealed to Bale in Algid?

  There was no sound. No movement. Bale was still.

  My snow was still, too.

  My breath caught. I held Bale in my arms, life pouring out of him, leaving me.

  I should have known the Enforcer was Bale. The heat that poured off him in the battle and now. He had saved me twice. It made sense, finally. He chose not to kill me in the square.

  Had he chosen this life? Or was he under the King’s control?

  I had not come this far to let him
go now.

  With a sigh of resignation, Jagger tore a piece of his own shirt and placed it over Bale’s wound, applying pressure.

  “Well, isn’t that a surprise,” the King said menacingly, having recovered from Jagger’s attack. “His love for you is stronger than I anticipated.”

  The King came at me again. He cast a sorrowful look at Bale. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from finishing what he started.

  I rose to my feet to face my father again, maybe for once and for all. I closed my eyes and summoned a snow sword, which appeared in my hand. It was covered with symbols like those on the Tree.

  The King conjured up a sword of his own. His weapon clashed against mine. I had never done this kind of fighting before, but like Fathom’s dagger, my snow sword seemed to know which way to move and when. Or maybe it was sheer will. I found my footing and pushed my father back. I matched him strike for strike, but he pushed back in return, forcing me up a hill. From my vantage point, I could see the Robber girls were all winning. The tide was turning in our favor. I considered sending a wave of snow to wipe out the giant Snow Wolf in case it had re-formed, but it seemed too much of a risk.

  I pressed forward against the King, the weight and speed of my sword outpacing his, finally. My father’s eyes widened as he lost his footing and fell backward into the snow.

  I raised my sword over him unsteadily. All it would take was one slice down and he’d be dead. I wondered and hoped that the beasts and Shells would fall the second that the King did. But I had never killed anyone, and I wasn’t sure I could kill him now, no matter how much he deserved it. I had hurt people in my life, but never permanently.

  I steeled my grip on the sword’s hilt and channeled every ounce of strength I had. I had no choice. There was no alternative. There was no cage that could contain a power like his. And he would never stop coming after me and Temperly and the Robber people. This was my destiny.

  “Don’t, Snow.”

  It was the one voice that always stopped me in my tracks. It was my mother. Here. In Algid.

  “You can’t,” she said.

  “Mom, he’s evil. He tried to kill me. I have to end this,” I said, readying myself for the final stab.