Chapter 22 Neve #2
When I don’t look up, he grabs the back of my head, forcing my gaze to where he wants it.
I whimper at the feeling, aware that something is very, very wrong, but my pain is almost dimmed by his touch.
I’m fairly certain it’s some type of magic, but the relief from the fiery burn is enough that I don’t immediately question it.
It’s debilitating, but I can still think.
Still move. Whatever this is, I think it’s meant to immobilize me.
Did he say I’m dying?
My thoughts stall as two figures appear.
I wasn’t aware of where we were before, but as I blink, I acknowledge we’re sitting in the field on the way to the docks.
There’s a large ship in port, something I can’t remember happening since long before my frozen sleep.
The two walking leisurely across the field, no attendants in sight, makes my stomach roll.
Davina and Lancelot.
I thought this was the dreamscape… but I couldn’t see things in real time while in the frozen sleep. Now I don’t understand where Hans has brought me.
“This was part of the plan?” Lancelot growls, keeping pace with the Queen.
The Mad Queen. Her hands are stained red, and there’s a deadly look in her eye as they march toward the ship.
A man appears on the deck, wearing a red helmet, and I hadn’t realized there was someone else waiting for them.
I dimly recall Davina summoning some guards, but I didn’t really look for anyone else.
I barely considered how Mother’s guests appeared when I realized they were already here. “Is this real?”
I’m surprised when Hans answers, “Yes. I can only stave off the pain from your spirit for so long.”
There isn’t time to figure out what he means. The Mad Queen turns and strokes her red fingers down Lancelot’s arm, over the tunic and thick coat he’s wearing.
She has heavy furs on, the details I glossed over before sticking out now.
It’s an all-black coat, so I don’t know what they hunted to get one like that, but it’s lush and rich with thick, fluffy sleeves.
I barely noticed it when I was fighting Mother, but unless the Mad Queen changed, it doesn’t look like that coat’s seen battle at all.
“Sned was an expected casualty.” She sighs, her words striking me like a blow. I was fighting with my mother, sure, but she was alive when I saw her last. “It’s the only way to unleash the curse.”
“You still haven’t broken that part down for me, darling.”
Lancelot has a deep timbre to his voice, one that would obviously command respect and attention if he weren’t standing next to Davina. At her side, however, he’s more or less become a background figure.
Davina gives him a wicked grin, leaning in to drag her tongue over his lips. I’m sitting close enough to make out the details, and I wish I couldn’t.
I guess that’s proof they can’t see me after all.
Lancelot reaches up, gripping her hair in his hands for a moment, deepening the kiss. Wrinkling my nose, the pain falling to the wayside as I watch them make out, I almost wish we arrived later. This is the last thing I want to see.
When I drag my gaze further down the path, I can see more frozen figures. More crimson splotches across icy surfaces. The red on Davina’s hands has to be blood, and she seems to have no qualms sliding those bloody hands across as much of Lancelot’s skin as she can.
Davina gasps, and I’m worried it’s a sound of passion until she spins with a roar, throwing out her hand. Weak spears of magic shoot from her hand, sailing harmlessly through the two of us in the grass. There’s a manic expression in her eyes when she shoves Lancelot away.
Beside me, Hans clicks his tongue. There’s dark, shadow-like magic drifting near Davina’s shoulder before she shakes it away. He sighs in the shadows. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I echo.
Davina’s speaking before he responds, and I wish he would say something a little less mysterious. “We should go. Sned is dead, as we planned. It would have been easier if her nuisance of a daughter remained sleeping, but it’s no issue now. At least she’s dead too.”
“How did she wake from the frozen sleep to begin with?” Lancelot hisses, swiping a finger along his lip. “It had to be with the original spinning needle, right?”
“Hush,” Davina hisses, looking around wildly. For a moment, her gaze settles on us, and I believe she knows we’re here. Then her gaze slides on, and I no longer know what to make of it. “It probably had to do with Ban.”
“Ban,” Lancelot repeats. “He’s the Reaper with the ice magic?”
“So good of you to keep up,” Davina drawls.
“He shares the same magic they did. That won’t be an issue?”
“Those… Reapers,” Davina spits, her lip curling over the word, “are hard to kill. Now that we have the north and the souls, we never need to come back here.”
“And that’s enough?” Lancelot asks skeptically. “You’re going to have enough heartless magic this way?”
Davina pauses, clenching her hands. A scarlet ball appears there, different from her other magic that curls in thin wisps when she uses it, and I try to sit up to study it more. Unfortunately, the pain in my back spikes, and I’m nearly lying down at this point. “Not until we have them all.”
“This would be so much easier had Dima not floundered in Swan Lake.” Lancelot sighs, gesturing to the boat. “A path through Swan Lake would be easier than sailing through these treacherous waters with Meria throwing a fit.”
“Swan Lake means Icicle Pass, and until the Icebound are banished, they will make passage impossible for us.”
The two step toward the ship, walking across the thick board that stretches from the dock to the deck.
How is this supposed to help me?
“I don’t understand,” I growl at Hans, who’s still staring at the two. There’s a longing in his eyes that I can’t quite place. “I don’t know those names or what this means. Ban mentioned the Icebound, but I only know a few things about them. I can’t see them–”
“You can,” Hans interrupts, turning to face me. The scenery around us fades, and with it, my belief that this is real. The darkness crowds in until I see nothing but the shadows. “They are the dead you see when you step into the shadows with Ban.”
“B-but I couldn’t see them before–”
“Because you denied your power before,” he says simply, tilting his head. “You were taught to be a queen for the people. For the citizens of this land. You neglected the other part of the Frostlands, the pieces of you that make you a blood ruler of the north.”
I slap my hands against the ground, and there’s no sound. There’s nothing here but the inky blackness again. “You’re not explaining!”
He stands, and this time, he doesn’t help me up.
“Your parents raised you to be the ruler for the people. Your mother’s curse took her attention from all else.
And in the end, it stole your father’s life, too.
He was gone before he could show you what it means to be a Glacia.
” That sadness is back in his face, like mentioning my father somehow hurts him.
“Where once there was a passage to the next life, the gates now stand forever closed. Because we stopped caring about the souls who carry us into the beyond. Now, that duty rests on four souls I damned once upon a time.”
Four souls? The pain in my back keeps me still, and frustrated tears bloom in my eyes. “I didn’t have any lessons about the Icebound! My father never mentioned any of that to me!”
“Because you ran out of time,” he says, keeping his gaze on me as he steps away.
He closes his eyes, and the sadness across his face morphs to something worse.
His brows scrunch, and he doesn’t look down at me again.
“When you wake, remember the gift. It is to ensure someone in your family tree weathers this storm and can stop Davina’s plans.
Foiling one part will be the beginning of stopping this altogether. ”
Pushing up, I mean to go after him. Or throw ice at him if my magic will respond. But nothing happens when I try, and the pain in my back is bad enough that I can’t make myself chase him. The Sandman keeps stepping away until he fades into the blackness, leaving me alone.
As the darkness settles in, I feel something tugging at my mind, begging me to follow. The emptiness remains, but I can feel myself slipping, like the shadows are devouring me whole, and as I sink into the dark, there’s a light ahead.
“Forgive me, Neve.”
It’s a voice that echoes around me, not just in my head. The question burns in my mind as my eyes slowly open. “Ban?”