Chapter 11
Itook Douglas with me for good luck, and also because I was afraid that the king might throw him out if I left him behind.
It was most certainly colder outside than in the fancy block of ice. I didn't like how hard it was getting to walk in the snow. My balance felt off, like I couldn't quite keep my footing even when the snow was packed.
The cliffs around the castle made my stomach drop, and I stayed as far back from the edge as possible to ensure that the rest of me didn't drop with it.
Find the villager, convince her to stop attacking the castle. Simple.
The king's request was unusual, but then again, so was the rest of his story.
I ducked under some snowy branches, feeling the powder dust over my hood as I braced myself on the piney tree trunk.
Its rough surface and sturdy trunk reminded me of the prickly king.
He was a bit abrasive, but his roots ran deeper into this land than I realized.
Blamore’s older brother… I never questioned why Blamore was named only a prince and not the king of Averglas until now. No one mentioned it, so I didn't think much of it either. That was starting to become a recurring theme of Averglas; things about the king were simply not spoken of.
It was as if they didn't even remember him, or at least, the non-monstrous side of him.
I chewed on my thoughts for a while as I circled around the back of the palace and found a worn trail in the snow. The path seemed to follow the impressive map the king had made, and sure enough, when I found the end of it there was a scrappy little cabin resting at the base of a cliff.
Found you.
I approached the cabin cautiously, noticing that it was in even worse shape than the king's map had shown.
The wooden walls were coated in a thick layer of ice that was probably the only thing holding the rotten logs together.
The foundation was uneven, and many of the logs were cracked down the middle.
The thatched roof was weighed down with snow and probably only a flurry or two away from caving in.
I approached the front door, which was barely dangling on by a single squeaky hinge at the top of the frame.
I knocked on the ice-coated wall instead, afraid I would knock the door off its final hinge if I struck it.
“Hello?” I called into the cabin, the door swinging open just by the breeze of my breath. “Is anyone home?”
The door kept swinging open until I was staring straight into the empty cabin.
No one was home, but the space was crowded with cots and hoarded supplies.
Bags of grain, dried lentils, and even a large tin of tea were all scattered around the room.
I stepped inside. There were more supplies squirreled away in the corners and even some shadows in the rafters that might have been more.
“Looks like someone is well prepared for the storm,” I said to myself, turning my attention to the empty fireplace.
It was completely cold, with ashes that had long since been blown out of the hearth and scattered across the carpet. It was strange…out of all the supplies here, there wasn't even a scrap of firewood.
All of a sudden, one of the items in the rafters jumped down on me. The air fled my lungs as a small figure pounced down on my back, flattening me against the floor and holding a cold hand to the back of my neck.
“W-what?” I gasped, barely able to lift my head from the floor before the attacker ripped my bag off my shoulder and rummaged through it. “Hey!”
The attacker leapt off me, running out the door and throwing the bag to the floor on their way out. I scrambled to my feet, running to pick up the bag to see what was missing.
My matches!
“Get back here!” I ran after the thief, darting out the door and spotting their dark attire easily against the bleached snow.
They were running downhill, already putting plenty of distance between us with their treasure in tow.
I couldn't lose those matches. My heart pounded as I chased after them, half running, half sliding down the hill until we were both running across a flat span of land.
In a moment of quick thinking, I reached into the bag and retrieved Douglas, who fortunately had not been stolen, and sent him into battle with a strong throw.
Douglas didn't disappoint, hitting the thief straight in the shoulder, hard enough to make them stumble and fall into the snow. I caught up with them, standing over them just as they rolled over and met my eyes.
A young girl, maybe thirteen years old, glared at me with sharp gray eyes that were made less intimidating by her adorable freckles. The box was grasped tightly against her chest, her eyes flicking between me and the matches.
“Give me those!” I said, reaching for the box only for her to roll out of the way. I stepped on the edge of her cloak, pinning her down before she could dart off again.
“Or what?” the girl hissed, as she tugged at her pinned cloak.
“You'll hit me with another rock?” Her eyes landed on where Douglas had fallen, and she scrambled over to grab him and return the favor.
She pulled her arm back to throw but paused to do a double take when she noticed his smile. “Why does it have a face?”
“Because he's friendly,” I said, stepping another foot on her cloak. “As am I when I'm not tackled and robbed.”
“You won't last long in the mountains then,” the girl said, tossing Douglas aside. “No one is friendly up here.”
“Probably because you like to take people's matches.” I frowned, and the robber just rolled her eyes.
“You would, too, if you were freezing,” she said. “Aren't you familiar with how survival works? Clearly not if you're willingly walking around this mountain. Don't you know the snow king lives up here?”
She tugged her cloak free but didn't try to run away just yet. She didn't offer back my matches either, but I would take what I could get for the moment.
“I'm well aware,” I said, gazing up at the ice tower that loomed behind us. “He's a finicky gentleman, but I've dealt with worse royals.”
“Wait? You've spoken to him?” The girl arched her brow, looking back at the smiley face drawn on Douglas. “I understand now. You're crazy.”
“Says the girl living in frosty isolation,” I clipped back.
“We're all going to freeze to death at this rate.
I'm just choosing to do it in peace.” She stood up, dusting the snow from her skirt and cloak.
She was smaller framed than I expected, only coming up to my shoulder in height.
Her hair was long and pretty, tied off in a frizzy blonde braid that hung over her shoulder.
“There's nothing peaceful about freezing to death,” I said, my answer stunning her enough that I could lunge forward and snatch back my matches. “Trust me, kid.”
The girl frowned but didn't try to wrestle the matches back. She looked tired, her eyes shadowed with dark circles and her shivering appearing to wear her down.
“It beats dying of lung paralysis,” she said, her voice soft as she wrapped her arms around her torso.
Paralysis?
“You weren't always alone, were you?” I thought back to all the bed cots packed into that cabin. My chest tightened. “You lost someone.”
“Everyone,” she whispered, her voice gravelly.
“As I said, it's not personal. I'm just trying to survive.
I don't know what happened, but my whole family just kept getting sicker until they couldn't move at all, and then they never moved again. I think it had something to do with the smoke coming from the fire, they just kept coughing every time it was lit.”
My little finger twitched, the bone feeling odd, like it was made of wood or something. I curled my fingers, using my thumb to tuck in the little finger since it refused to do it on its own.
“Blackwood poisoning,” I breathed, the words hot and dry in my mouth. “I’m so sorry...”
“Blackwood?” the girl tilted her head. “Isn’t that a type of tree?”
“Yes, and looking around, it would seem that there are quite a few up on this mountain.” I pointed out the tall evergreens with nearly black bark and dull-green pine needles.
“It hasn’t been officially recognized by the city physicians yet, but boiling their sap releases a lethal toxin into the air that causes paralysis.
It sounds to me like that’s what happened to your family. ”
She swallowed hard, her face turning paler than the snow as she looked down at her hands. “That...that can’t be true,” she whispered. “I was the one who tended the fire and I’m just fine.”
“You’re immune,” I gasped. “My betrothed was too. Funny how the best luck always comes to the worst people.”
“Hey!” the girl snapped.
“I was mainly referring to my betrothed. You seem...decent.”
She frowned.
“What?” I huffed. “You stole my matches!”
“And you hit me with a rock.” She rubbed her freshly bruised shoulder. “You got your matches back, didn’t you?”
I snuck a glance at Douglas, and he didn’t seem to harbor any hard feelings over it. Probably because she didn’t try to steal him as well, despite his undeniable value.
“I suppose being hit by Douglas is a fair enough punishment for your crimes,” I said.
“Douglas?” She followed my gaze toward his charcoal smile. “...The rock?”
“He’s a great judge of character,” I explained.
“He bruised me.”
“Like I said, you’re decent.” I plucked him from the snow and slipped him back into my pocket
She growled under her breath, her argument cut off by another aggressive round of shivering. The wind was picking up, making it less than ideal for us to keep standing out in the elements. It would have been wise for us to seek shelter, but I still hadn’t completed my task set out by the king.
“Why don’t we go make a fire?” I suggested. “We can continue this conversation with a little more warmth.”
“Are you going to use one of those matches?” she nodded at the box still in my hand, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said. “I’m sort of saving them for an emergency. I can strike a fire with some rocks, or...”
“No,” she cut me off, her shivering getting more intense. “I’m not burning anything from this forest. Not anymore.”
She pulled her hood lower over her eyes, trying to hide what might have been the gloss of tears, or just the sting of the wind. I looked down at the box of matches in my hand, finally understanding why her fireplace had been so cold.
“When’s the last time you lit a fire?” I asked.
“Can’t remember. I don’t trust it not to kill me, too.” She sniffled with a tight grimace. “It’s all the ice king’s fault. If it wasn’t so cold, they never would have burned those nasty logs.”
She’s afraid of dying the same way her family did.
“Is that why you’re attacking the snow king’s castle?” I took a half step closer, careful not to scare her off but feeling the urge to be closer. “For revenge?”
“It’s more than that,” she said stiffly. “I sneak inside through the windows. They're the weakest spots in his walls. That’s where I get all the food. It’s not fair that he gets to hoard all these supplies while his winter claims our loved ones.”
I considered just how much food and supplies I’d seen stashed in the tiny cabin. Did all of that really come from the castle? Why would he be keeping that from the citizens?
A patch of icicles caught my attention on the edge of a tree branch, my eyes focusing on their glossy reflection as I wondered if he was watching this scene unfold.
I wanted to ask him to explain himself, or better yet, explain himself to this hurting little girl, but that wasn’t what he asked me to do. I had to thaw her heart on my own.
“Do you see that tall evergreen over there? With the rough bark?” I pointed over her shoulder at the closest blackwood tree I could find.
“Yeah, what about it?” she asked.
“That’s what the blackwood trees look like,” I explained. “Anything else should be completely safe, I promise you. Besides, even if there are a few blackwood tree ashes left in your fireplace, it looks like your body doesn’t react to its poison. You won’t hurt yourself if you warm up your home.”
I opened the matchbox, then selected one of the three matches. The tiny sliver of wood felt like a mighty sword pinched between my fingers, one that was too powerful to place in the wrong hands.
But perfect to place in a pair of hurting hands.
“Here.” I held the match out to her. “Take it.”
“What?” She just stared at the match.
“I have two others. I can spare one,” I explained with a gentle smile. “Use it to light your first fire, then keep feeding it with healthy wood so your home can stay warm.”
She stepped forward and apprehensively took the match. I placed it in her palm, tucking her fingers around it before looking her straight in the eyes.
“Just promise me this,” I whispered, her attention fixated on me. “Before you light it, I want you to whisper your greatest wish to it, alright? Something that could only be possible through magic.”
Something that will give you the strength to carry on.
“You really are crazy, aren't you?” she smiled, the tiny expression enough to make my fingers release her hand with ease.
“Crazy enough to propose to a snow king,” I laughed, tucking the box with the remaining matches back into my bag.
“Propose?” She made a disgusted face. “I’d rather marry Douglas than that ice freak.”
“He’s not all that bad.” I quickly came to his defense, looking back at the twinkling icicles.
“He sent me here to check on you, after all. I’ll tell you what.
Why don’t you keep all the supplies you’ve already got stored up, and stop breaking the poor guy’s windows, okay?
If your wish burns out and your supplies run dry, then you can come visit the castle and we’ll find a much more civil way to keep you warm and fed.
Just don’t leave any fingerprints when you knock. ”
She let out a subtle laugh, her fingers toying with the match as a hopeful light twinkled in her stormy eyes. “Fine, I suppose I have enough supplies for now. Thank you, miss.”
“Safara.” I smiled. “You can call me Safara.”
“The princess?” She crinkled her nose.
“In some kingdoms, yes.”
“Huh, never expected a princess to climb a mountain with a rock for an escort.” She shrugged, then held out her hand to offer me a shake. “I’m Lea. Tell that ice king to let a little sun out for me, alright?”