Chapter 7 Neve
Something changed within me the moment I spoke to Sandman. An outsider here in my dreams? Perhaps his control over dreams themselves allowed him in, but for however long I’ve been asleep, I’ve never had a visitor except for my mother’s voice.
The Sandman said years, but that can’t be true.
Maybe something did happen after all with the King of Diamonds, but my mother is in a frail state from her curse.
She should want to awaken me to use me to her advantage, not keep me here.
If she has some way to wake me from this frozen sleep, she should do so quickly. I can’t fathom why she wouldn't.
After my father's passing, before the funeral, I remember that the King of Diamonds, King Jasper, wanted to speak to us through the large stone we used to speak to other kingdoms. I know I’ve slept for more than a day, so surely, if anything came of that request Mother took care of it.
Kicking the powder, I glare out at the endless snow. I haven’t gone back to the fake castle, instead choosing to wallow in my anger and confusion here in the trees. Here, as strange as it is, I’m free. No one has expectations of a queen in her own dreams.
My thoughts drift back to Ban the longer I’m here, letting my anger and despair focus on the man who changed the course of my life. I would still be queen if not for him; my father wouldn’t have suffered a fatal blow, and I would still have his guiding hand as I learn what to do next.
I glare out at the mountains while trying to decide my next move. Memories only betray me with pain, and without my mother's voice, there’s no one to talk to. I’ve tried calling out to the Sandman many times, but he isn’t answering.
No one is.
“I’ll go there,” I say, talking to myself. It’s probably not a good habit, but I’ve been doing this for a long time. For as long as I’ve been asleep at least. “Even if I can’t escape the dream, I can control it. Maybe I can imagine a fake Ban and come up with a plan to kill him.”
As I take off through the snow, the thought makes my heart tighten. I’m not a killer. That was never part of the plan when I agreed to take the crown. But my father wasn’t supposed to die the night I ascended the throne, either.
There’s only one person whom I want to end, and he signed his name so I would know exactly who he is.
Forcing the thoughts out of my head, I will my mind to empty and let me run free.
I’ve done this too many times to count since the dreaming started, but I’ve rarely bothered with the mountains.
There were only a few places I truly had to go in the snowy hills, and the North Mountain itself was a beast to brave.
I haven’t thought about climbing mountains in years, even before my coronation. As the wind whips past me, an imagined chill sending a shiver up my spine, a thrill shoots through me for the first time in a long time.
Sandman, Ban, all of them. They can go to hell. I’m going to run into the snowy mountains until I run out of imagination. With any luck, this dreamscape will come to an end.
Time bleeds together, and I run over snowy passes and use my magic on the fake snow and ice as though building my own bridge.
All these pathways come from somewhere in my memory, but some of them are more familiar than others.
I remember often, when I pushed against the limits of what I could do, that my recollection would get a little blurry.
It doesn’t matter though. Here, I’m invincible.
As I run up the hills, my mind clears. It’s not going to offer an escape but at least running like this makes me feel a little less trapped. I continue taking the paths as they form in my head, memory and imagination blending together to guide me on.
My steps falter, the whirlwind of snow circling around me, calming me as a sudden stabbing in my hand makes me stumble. It’s like a phantom touch, the ghost of remembrance threatening to overwhelm me. I’ve felt a throb in my finger more times than I can count, but nothing as acutely sharp as this.
Glaring up toward the white sky, I prepare to scream into the unknown again.
And then I feel my real eyes fluttering.
Surprise rolls through me, and the space all around me in the mountains begins to fade. This endless dreamscape cracks around the edges, the imagined land blurring together as I spin around.
My hands twitch. My real hands, flexing against the pain shooting through my finger. I gasp, feeling as though the ground is torn out from under me.
Blinking, I stare up at a dark sky. No, not the sky, a ceiling.
And someone’s stabbing me in the finger.
As I whip my head to one side, the past stares back at me. For one single moment, all I can do is catch my breath, forgetting to survey my surroundings.
Long white hair. So white it’s almost reflective. Blue eyes, defined muscles -
Oh Gods no.
I rip my hand away from him, his body on one side of the bed.
Bed.
Why the hell am I in a bed?
Still scrambling to make sense of things, I push myself away, sliding off the side of the bed opposite him. My limbs are slow to respond, and when I stare down at my hand there’s a bit of blood on one of them, just a speck of red. Like something pricked my finger.
“W-what did you do?” I snarl, glaring at him. My voice sounds strange, sluggish, and it’s taking more effort than I would like to get everything out. “Where are we? How are you here?”
The man of my nightmares holds up his hands, eyebrows lifting. “Queen Neve, I mean you no harm.”
“No harm?” I growl, my mind raging. “Killer! You’re the King Killer. Where is my mother? Guards!”
He winces, but doesn’t look overly concerned. His lack of fear drives me wild, convincing me to stand through a wave of dizziness. Maybe I should take things slowly, and get a feel for my surroundings, but right now all I can see is the man who ended my father's life.
As I stare into his cold blue eyes, I see the monster in chains. Not the man in black standing before me with his hands raised.
“Father!” I scream.
Screw Ban and screw this whole dungeon. Flinging myself forward across the space, my shrill voice rings out to match Mother’s wails. “Guards! Guards, come quick!”
Mother’s frosty fingers catch my elbow as I collapse beside Father, who lies unmoving on the dungeon floor.
I didn’t see her throw more magic at us, but maybe it’s residual after the strike angled at myself and Ban.
Her magic is such a fickle thing, her control worsening the longer her curse remains.
“Neve,” Mother whispers harshly, stopping me as I try to turn Father. The blast shot him backward, his body crumbling into the opposite wall of the room before he sank against the frozen stone. His neck is bent at an unnatural angle, but I need to see his eyes.
Eyes hold life. Surely there’s still a spark in his.
“Neve!” Mother hisses this time, pulling me away from my father. The ache in my chest clouds all reason, and I give up fighting to turn my sorrow on her. “The ice mage killed him. That was a planned blow. The King is dead because of the ice mage Ban.”
Ice flies from my fingertips without permission, growing large icicles in thin air as my power expands. The sharp tips point toward the mage, who stares at me with unreadable eyes. “This is all your fault!”
“You would believe that,” he replies sadly, slashing his arm out in front of him. All at once, the icicles I’ve forced begin to bend, pointing down and away from him. “Neve, please–”
Enraged, I raise my arms and send a wave of ice at him. He deflects it away from his body, which only serves to stoke the anger. “Don’t speak my name! You have no right!”
“I know you’re upset,” he says carefully, letting snow drift from his fingertips. “But you don’t–”
All my confusion and rage bubbles over, and I scream as I thrust my hands toward him, my magic twisting and rolling through me. My energy feels low, but my magic is almost bursting at the seams.
The surge of magic catches him off guard, and there’s a flash of surprise in his eyes before he is rocked backward. Ice shards explode all around me, the blow striking the far side of the room.
No, not a room. I’ve seen this place before.
I’ve been here when I wanted to hide from my responsibilities as a teenager.
But in all my twenty-two years, I’ve never seen the decrepit house furnished.
I thought this little cabin was a place only I knew.
It used to be a little abandoned cabin in the mountains, a place probably too dangerous for a child but I liked coming here anyway.
I think I mentioned it to my mother once but she brushed me off.
As my magic bursts through the far wall, knocking the ice mage out of the structure, I realize I should have used a touch more caution.
The cabin was always in a precarious state, and as the dingy, large windows on the opposite wall give way from magic and the body of a man, I see the mountains all around us.
Familiar cliffs. The cold has always been my friend, and with ice magic my fears abandoned me when I realized that anything was possible if I tried.
I stumble as the building creaks, slamming my hands against the wall. Ice forms beneath my palms, and I try to steady my breathing.
Control it. My emotions are getting the best of me, and I probably should not have launched the mage out the side of the cabin.
As the structure creaks, I peer out of the newly made hole and grit my teeth. It appears we are alone at least for the moment. I may not get another chance to deal with this without any witnesses.
He killed my father. That cannot stand.
Without thinking I rush at the opening, my legs wobbly but my magic burning inside.
I shot him out of the cabin. I’m going to find him and finish this.