the Cold

The girl sat in the darkest corner of her room, hugging herself, small, thin frame shivering despite the crackling hearth fire that burned brightly and warmed everything. Her clothes, shredded white silk, tattered cast offs she’d been given, hid most of her wiry body, but did nothing for the chill inside her. Her black hair fell messily from her head, the darkest black there was, it fell onto her face and shading her shadowed eyes. They were blue, an impossible blue that resembled all shades of the sky. The same sky she saw in the small square of her stone-framed window, the one that was barred with iron and covered every other day. But today it was open, because She had opened it. But the little girl was alone in the room; she was the only life there. Everyone — everything else had gone, on Her orders. The girl needed to be alone, alone so the Cold inside her core could spread, and then she’d be full, whole, and never have to be alone again. But she didn’t want the Cold to spread, she wanted it buried deep, down where no one could reach it, not even Her. So she beat it down, forced it into submission and slowly, tentatively, reached out and crawled to the fire.

She couldn’t understand why the fire had been made, to test the Cold’s strength or to see if she fought it, to see if she was the One. She wasn’t, she knew that much, it was all her seven year old mind could grasp at the moment. She wasn’t the one they wanted, needed, and she didn’t want to be, she wanted to stay warm and feeling, she didn’t want to ascend. Folding her feet beneath her she sat in front of the fire and counted the number of crackles she heard and the cracks in the stone, counting was good, it was easy. Hugging herself again she stared into the fire and thought Warm, warm, warm, warm, hoping it helped. It was like a spell, like playing piano, continuously pressing that one key for the haunting effect, for the rhythm. She repeated her spell in her mind and counted under her breath, now she was just continuing, just like Nurse did when she was upset, she counted.

She counted until the maid came to check on her and stoke the fire; the woman looked frightened when she saw she wasn’t in the corner like she had been earlier. She dropped the hearth brushes and ran out calling “Mistress, mistress,” frantically. Six days the little girl had been in the room fighting the cold, she was hungry, they hadn’t fed her, she was clean because they always made a bath, though it too was cold. She sat shivering in front the fire staring after the maid not able to move her legs despite her fear. When Mistress came, dressed in billowing white, heart shaped face surrounded by the same curtain of black hair as the little girls, and eyes the same impossible shades of blue resembling the sky. Her lips were painted red and she smiled a thin, cold smile, she wasn’t happy, the girl could see that. It was the seventh day, the Cold was supposed to have taken her by now and it hadn’t, of course She would be mad. But somehow that didn’t worry the little girl as much as it used to, all she wondered was is she’d be thrown away, because if that happened she could finally gain freedom. Mistress walked up to her, her high heels click clacking against the warm stone, she was the queen, the Ice Queen to be exact, and beneath her feet a thin sheet of frost covered the stone. She was the little girl’s mother, winter in a bodily form. “Why,” said the Queen in a soft, chilling voice. “Why hasn’t it taken you?” Her eyes gleamed; they too frosted over, turning icy blue instead of impossible. The little girl didn’t want her eyes like that. Her expression went from painful to frightened as she looked at the Queen.

“I d-d-don’t k-k-know,” she stuttered. “B-b-but I d-d-don’t want it t-t-to. Sorry.”

“Why not, it’s the best thing that can ever happen to you Sweetie, it means you’ll ascend,” the Queen’s voice turned sweet, almost cheerful as she talked of the curse that made the queen, queen. “You’ll become queen, continue our bloodline and I can retire.”

“D-d-don’t want to. F-f-find s-s-someone else,” said her daughter.

“No,” shouted the Queen, voice laced with venom. “You are the only one, do you understand, the only one. For centuries I have waited for a child to succeed me and you are that child. You have to.” Quiet, almost like a whimper.

The child could not understand; why was she the only one? Why couldn’t her brother’s ascend? Why didn’t the cold take them? Could they not rule as kings? She voiced this, slow and stuttering, the shiver made it worse, but the Queen let her get it all out.

“W-w-why m-m-me? Why not E-e-edward or F-f-francis or K-k-kayit? Why not them?”

The Queen looked appalled at the idea as if it was unheard of and the little girl had an inkling that it was. “Because,” the woman spat, “Cold will only take a girl, only a female can ascend, that is why you are the only one.”

She was losing her patience, she only had so much and something like that thinned over centuries. She had, had a girl before, long before the one now, a small, pretty little thing that looked just like her, even as a baby. But she died, a girl wasn’t supposed to die before the cold, and she couldn’t have another one no matter how hard she tried, the little girl knew this story of course; everyone in the palace knew that story. A queen was needed and the current could only be kept for so long, it wasn’t that she would die, the Cold kept her from aging, got rid of all illness, but she could go mad. Cold only did so much, and it wasn’t a power to be abused. That’s why it was so important that she ascended to the Cold like so many before her and become queen. The Cold needed new, young blood to survive, untainted and unspoiled. All the girls before her had been kept in the palace, never stepping a foot outside of it, so they could remain pure for the Cold. No had any idea when it first started, who the first queen was or why the Cold existed, it was ancient, they knew that. It had many names, Cold, Winter’s Kiss, the Ice Curse, it varied from country to country. Ancient magic that was feared, because ancient magic tended to be unstable, it needed a body to stabilize it, and only the queen could, but for how long. The girl knew all this, she knew her mother couldn’t keep the Cold at bay forever, soon it would break free of her body and freeze everything, even her, and she knew she was the only person who could keep it at bay until the next, but still she persisted. “No,” she said, in her small, firm voice. “Won’t, I won’t. Find someone else.”

But she was the only one, the Cold was picky and now it only took blood, untainted, unmarred. It had to be her. The Queen was vexed now, her eyes filled with rage and magic fizzed all around her, crackling like the fire. “You will ascend, the Cold will take you, it will,” she said, voice raised, sharp and piercing. “You will stay here until it does.” Her confinement was lengthened, guards were to stand outside the door at all times and she wasn’t to be visited at all, they locked her in, the Queen turned the key herself and wore it around her neck, there was only one key. The fire was doused, put out and the chimney was charmed so she couldn’t climb out of it, they wouldn’t let her escape. The window remained open though, barred but open, and all she could see from it was the sky, cut into smaller squares by iron, even if she could move to go look she wouldn’t be able to see the world outside, she was in a tower, high above the world and the window was charmed so it only let her see the sky. The girl had magic too, but hers wasn’t strong enough to break the charms. So she slumped against the still warm side of the hearth and counted. Counting was okay, it was her spell, and it kept her sane.

A young boy, the age of seven, walked through the palace halls; he was a small, thin thing, just as small and thin as his twin, who was missing. The Queen had promised him he’d get to see her after a week, she hadn’t been lying then, he could tell, her eyes always calmed when she lied. But the week was over and his sister hadn’t come, he was worried. Did the Cold kill her? He didn’t know if it was possible or not, he didn’t learn such things. Only the princess learned in detail about the cold, not the prince or princes. But he was the youngest and her twin, she’d told him things, she’d told him she didn’t want to be queen, that nothing was worth it. But he knew as well as she did that she didn’t have a choice. It’s been seven days exactly, Cold should’ve taken her now, she should’ve been let out by now, she should be with me! He didn’t like it, everything felt entirely wrong. When he tried to ask Nurse she wouldn’t tell him. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing young one, the lil’ princess is just not feeling well,” said the old woman, her voice thick with an accent of a country long dead. He didn’t believe that, he would’ve known if she wasn’t feeling well, he always knew. So what was wrong?

Daringly, the little boy marched down the hall from the nursery, where he slept, to the bedroom of his eldest brother, Edward. He knocked, he wasn’t strong enough to kick open the heavy door like Kayit did, and wasn’t brave enough to just barge in unannounced like Francis. “Who is it,” asked the deep, sharp as ice voice of Prince Edward. The little boy flinched, he was used to the cold voices of his older brothers, but it sounded different today, edgier maybe, or pained? He didn’t know, but meekly he answered, unable to keep the unease from his voice, at least he didn’t stutter. “It’s me, Hale,” he said, “I need to ask you something.” Silence, the other prince didn’t answer, but slowly, the door creaked open. Edward sat with a magazine, tall and lean, on his bed in worn jeans and a black shirt, brown hair neatly layered on his head, he glared through wire-rimmed glasses at his little brother, but Hale thought the glare wasn’t so harsh today, why? “Well don’t just stand there,” Edward almost snarled, “come in and shut the door.” Hale walked in quick and the door swung shut behind him. “What do you want?”

Hale stood shaking, hands clenched together in front of him, where was the courage he used to get there? “I want to ask you, w-w-where Hailey is?” Why did the stutter come now? Edward, like the king, hated that stutter, he couldn’t stand it.

“How the hell should I know, she’s probably with Mother, doesn’t her confinement end today?” He hid his face behind the magazine.

“Y-y-yes, it d-does, but something’s w-w-wrong. I checked, the guards are still by the door and Mother was alone. You have to know something Ed.”

“Why do I have to know?”

“B-b-because, you’re the E-e-eldest, she likes you.”

“That does not mean she tells me everything.” He hadn’t turned the page for a whole minute, even though he was a speed reader.

“Ed,” Hale snapped, he was really worried.

“I don’t know,” Ed snapped back. “Now get out of my room.”

“Y-y-your lying. You a-a-always know.”

“Get out.”

He’d made him angry; his eyes, a stormy gray, swirled with it. The door swung open and Hale ran out, before Ed could do any damage. The Eldest had a temper, just like the Queen, it was strange, you’d think he’d be calmer considering he would have to rule as king when their father was gone, he’d be king until Hailey wed. Hale didn’t really like that thought, but again he had no choice in the matter, he walked unsteadily to Francis’s room, if the he knew something he’d at least tell Hale, after all they were friends. Kayit was the only one he couldn’t ask, Kayit had a worse temper than the Queen and Ed combined and just loved to cause trouble and mess with you, Hale was too afraid of Kayit. Francis’s door stood open and he lay on the floor, curled into a ball. Hale ran to him, terrified. “Francis,” he screamed “Francis are you okay?” The older boy groaned there was a gash on his cheek where someone had slapped him, still bleeding and he shuddered in pain when Hale touched him. His eyes popped open, gray and frightened. “Hale,” he squeaked, then gave another groan as if speaking hurt. He was clutching his stomach and gasping for breath, Hale didn’t need to wonder what happened to him, he could already guess, the Queen was in a bad mood. He got even more worried for his sister, understanding that whatever reason the Queen was mad, it was her fault. Hale yelled for help, and Aya, a maid, came running in with the palace doctor, Guild, and the King. They shooed Hale away and he stood there watching, as the King lifted Francis who screamed in pain out of the room and in the direction of the infirmary. He flinched when a familiar, dangerous presence came up beside him, followed by the smell of smoke. Kayit whistled over his cigarette as Hale jumped away. “Really did a number on him,” he said “the old hag; broke a few ribs.”

“H-h-how do you know,” Hale asked and Kayit grinned flashing canines that only he had.

“Because I’ve broken enough ribs myself to be able to tell, besides, I saw it, she left the door open. Did you hear, the little princess defied the Cold, Queen ain’t too happy about that.” He laughed, as if the idea was funny.

“She did what? How?”

Kayit looked at him uninterested. “Does it matter? You should be more worried about yourself. If Hail’s gets her anymore mad she’ll be going after you next, she won’t go after Ed, she likes him too much and she knows she can’t do anything to faze me, so you’re the only option, better hide quick.” Whit that, Kayit rubbed his cigarette against the stone, dropped it to the floor, and left.

Hale took a sharp intake of breath and ran for the nursery, it was where they had slept together since they were infants, he and Hailey. He locked the door behind him, because Ed had locked his door, even though the rules were that all doors must be open. He pushed the chest of drawers in front of it, though he knew it wouldn’t defend against any spell. So he made a spell of his own, thinking the words. Hold, hold, hold, he thought. Keep out, turn away, protect. The jumble of words would have to do, he paced around the large room. He realized he was expendable, Ed would be King because he was Eldest, Kayit was Hound, and Francis could be Steward or Consigliere, but he would be useless, because She only needed two. Then I’ll run away and take Hailey with me. It was a good idea, his only option, because he was expendable She wouldn’t look for him, but the princess was not and as he remembered fearfully, there were guards at her door. He’d have to find a way around them.

Hailey sat stiffly slumped against the hard chaise sofa in her room, there was no bed, and no throw pillows on the sofa, the only furniture was the wooden table stripped of its cloth, one hard arm chair, and the sofa. It was day nine of her confinement and the Cold pulsed persistently in her core, she pushed at it and repeated the spell in her head, at least she didn’t stutter in there. Her teeth chattered, her body shivered beneath the thin silk that had been shredded even more the day before, not by the Queen though, by the King. He had the bottom end of the stick with the Queen’s temper, he was the one who had to calm her down and fix everything, he couldn’t care less about what Hailey wanted, he needed her to ascend so his sons would be safe. His steel gray eyes had bored into her, it always seemed he could see the soul. He raged on, until the Hound came, that’s what Hailey called Kayit, by his title. Hound stopped the old man’s ranting, laughing maddeningly, all this madness was fun to him. Now the sofa was torn like her clothes, she had bruises hidden behind the dress, small so the Queen wouldn’t see them. All the sons have gray eyes, she thought as the cold bit into her, it was winter outside, it always was. All except Hale, his eyes are like mine, like Hers; an impossible blue. She smiled faintly, a sweet expression on her miserable face, she wondered if she actually did ascend would both their eyes change when she used magic. She knew she wouldn’t be able to feel the cold if she let the Cold take her, but that was a bitter thought that she did not want to think of. Hugging herself tighter, she put her head in her knees, closed her eyes, and went to sleep. All the while the simple spell, a song now, echoed in her head Warm, warm, warm. It kept Cold at bay.

Hale had been hiding, three days now, but it was ten for his sister. Hound had come to visit him, said their old man had seen Hailey. He was standing outside the door because Hale’s spell was working. “Old man got pretty vexed when he heard the little princess didn’t submit to the Cold, stole the key to visit her and what does he do, knocks ‘er silly,” he’d told him, whistling the words as usual. “Had to go in and stop him, old fool, gonna get himself in trouble like that. When do you plan on coming out, Nurse is worried?” Of course Nurse is worried, thought Hale. It’s her job to worry. The old nurse had been Nurse to all the queen’s children for more than a few centuries, she was just as ancient as the magic, but if she had any, she never used. She’d frequently stop in front the nursery doors and wring her hands fretting over Hale, he wasn’t eating and he wasn’t letting anyone in. “He be such a thin boy already,” she would mutter in that thick accent that made her voice seem big and loud when it was really small and meek. Hale’s stomach had stopped growling the first day, then he just had headaches that turned to migraines that persistently thumped against his head like club music, banging to be let free. It helped if he took a bath, or drank some water.

The nursery had a bathroom connected to it and windows, all barred to stop them from leaning out and possibly falling. He stared at those windows now and wondered about the bars. There were bars in Hailey’s confinement room, charmed for sure. He probably wouldn’t be able to break them, but if he tried to break them with Hailey, it might work, but he’d need to be in the room. Now how do I get in the room? There was his problem, clear as day, he couldn’t get in the room. It made his distress and unease grow. He ran a hand through his uncombed, messy black hair and sighed. Counting, he thought, will help. So count he did, he was counting when the Queen broke his charm and stormed in the room with a grinning Hound and horrified Ed, counting when she pulled him up by his hair and slapped him across the face, her sapphire ring digging into his skin making a small gash big on his face. He counted when she screamed something in her rage that sounded something like “Why, why, why,” as she threw him across the room. He counted while listening to Kayit laugh, thoroughly enjoying it and stared blank eyed at Ed who’s mouth hung open, for the first time letting his mask of anger fall of in front of others. Hale’s lips moved, mouthing the numbers as he made it to a hundred and she kicked him, all the while screaming “Why, why won’t that girl submit?” She directed her anger at him because she couldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t hurt her, because Hailey needed to be pure and unscarred for the Cold, he on the other didn’t need to be anything, and he was the closest thing.

The Queen raged for an hour, then stomped out the room, Ed thought she’d break her heels. He ran over to his youngest brother and picked up the small, bleeding, little boy. His ribs were broken, all of them, he was barely breathing. His lip, cheeks, and side were bleeding, his left eye was black and he somehow twisted his left wrist. “Crap,” breathed Ed and ran past Hound out the nursery and down the many halls to the infirmary where Francis still was. The doctor wasn’t there at the moment, but Ed knew basic healing spells and set them up around Hale, a few minutes later a nurse came in and helped him with the machines. They beeped and booped and helped him breathe. Now he had reached nine hundred ninety-nine, but he couldn’t count anymore. He was trying his best to keep his eyes open so he could stare at Ed who looked scared half to death, he’d never seen the Eldest look like that before, that was something unheard of, it distressed him further and he squirmed in the bed, pain stinging his whole body. “Don’t move,” said Ed firmly, “please don’t move.” So Hale stopped and Ed sighed. “At least you made it three days”, he murmured, running a hand through his hair.

“Hai—,”started Hale, but his lungs stung and his chested ached.

“Don’t speak either, alright?”

Hale gave him a desperate look. “Hailey,” he breathed, quickly and then winced at the pain.

“Worry about yourself will you, she’s fine. Mother can’t hurt her, you know that. Just worry about yourself.” Ed sounded a little like his usual self, angry and edgy, not worried and frightened.

Hale did not want to worry about himself, Ed could see that. “You’re such a stubborn little brat, you can’t help her you know,” he’d told him, but Hale just stared at him and he sighed. He was quiet for a while, sitting on the hard metal stool. His expression did not change as he pondered at whatever he was thinking, Hale watched him, breathing slowly through the machine. He kept playing with his fingers, moving them like one would when playing the piano, except he didn’t move his hands or flick his wrists, fully aware that one was broken. The healing spells put up by Dr. Guild, the nurse, and Ed buzzed around him, along with his own simple protection spell. Finally Ed sighed, slumping down further and running his hand through already messy hair. “Look Hale, I’ll figure out a way to get you out of here, safe from Her, but I can’t promise anything and I don’t know how to help you with Hailey. But I’ll figure something out, maybe even get that damned Hound to help, all you need to do for now is rest, Francis will keep you company, kay?” He glanced up at Hale for reassurance, all the boy did was blink. “Alright then,” Ed stood, that seeming to be enough. He left the infirmary and went back to his own room to pace around, “How,” he wondered, “how will I get them out of here.” As he paced he bit his thumbnail a bad habit he did when stressed or in deep thought, right now he was in both.

A month passed and the Queen’s anger worsened, Hale was finally able to leave the infirmary and so was Francis who was willing to help with whatever plan Edward had. Hound was a different matter, he was loyal to no one, but since he was interest and greatly loved to defy the Queen, he was helping and so was Nurse, the old woman wanted the last children she’d take care of safe. They had a plan and at a perfect time to, but Ed knew something was wrong, and as they headed to the confinement room he figured out what, the guards were gone, they hadn’t been there for that entire month. The Queen had snapped, and she planned to punish everyone who caused it, she wasn’t used to being defied and the Cold had used that weakness against her and drove her to do the unspeakable and Hound had helped, not because he was ordered to, though the collar around his neck certainly helped, but because he was interested. Hound was an obvious sadist.

The confinement room was empty, they burst in through the door and found the place empty, except for the little bit furniture and the ice filling the room a sure sign that the Queen had been there and been mad. Ed glared at Hound who stood, leaning against the door frame grinning, flashing his canines. Hale realized at the same moment Ed did, as the Eldest grabbed Hound by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, giving a low growl, Hale felt a sudden, sick feeling to scream. “Where is she Kayit,” growled Ed, low and buzzing with anger. The Hound’s grin widened and he shrugged. “Wish I could tell you Bro, but this collar,” he pointed to the black, steel spiked collar around his neck “forbids me from disobeying Her orders.” Ed set his stone hard gaze on his younger brother who just grinned, people being angry at him wasn’t anything new. No matter how much Ed threatened him or what he did Kayit still wouldn’t be able to tell him, they both knew that. Nurse coughed and spoke with that familiar thick accent, one they all found comforting because she had raised them with that accent, taught them their ABC’s how to count, patiently listened to their childish stories that they had found fascinating and scolded them when they did something wrong, comforted them when they upset Her. “The little sidhe is in the dungeon, best we hurry,” she told them and Ed dropped Kayit and ran, followed by Hale.

Deep below the palace was the dungeon, Ed and Hale came panting to a stop in front the large iron door with the bolt, coming up beside them was Nurse and Hound, not tired at all, they didn’t even need to catch their breath. Hale stared at the door, behind it, he could feel, was Hailey, and she was crying. A scream was building in his throat, one he didn’t want to let out. Hound opened the door and as soon as he did they could hear it, the princess’s screams, they rang out loud and clear, blood curling. Ed shuddered as Hale ran in, his throat threatening to echo the sound. She was laying on a slab of stone, flat like a bed, her wrists and ankles were cuffed and tears streamed from her eyes, staining her cheeks. The Queen stood over her and glared at them, she held one of Hound’s cigarettes in one hand and a whip in the other, Hailey’s dress was now just pieces of cloth because of it. There were mark all over her arms and leg, whip mark, burn marks and if anyone bother to take them off to see, red marks where the cuffs dug into her skin, she had little gashes on her cheeks and if she was turned over they’d find more whip mark on her back. Seeing her like that, Hale, horrified, let the blood curling scream that had been building in his throat out, together they were deafening. The Queen dropped the things she had been holding and threw her hands to her ears, so did everyone else. “Hound,” she screamed as loud as she could. “Hound make him stop, make him stop, that is an order.” Hound had no choice but to obey, he ripped one hand from his ears and wrapped it around Hale’s neck. Instantly Hale stopped screaming; now he was making broken bird noises and crying. Ed ran to him as Hailey who had seen what happened screamed louder.

No one knew what happened next, if anyone were to think about it they would remember Francis who was supposed to be waiting for them at the back doors, scramble in the dungeon with something oval-like wrapped in a white cloth and hand it to Nurse who was chanting in that ancient language. Suddenly the cuffs on Hailey snapped open and Francis lifted her off the dais, he told Ed to bring Hale, so the Eldest did. Francis wrapped them both in heavy, velvet red cloaks, giving them each a leather satchel. Nurse walked up to them, the cloth off the object in her hand, it was a mirror. The Queen still holding her ears for some reason and so was Hound, whatever Nurse was doing she knew she couldn’t let them see. She held the mirror up to the twins and they looked dejectedly into it. She said one word, loud and clear, accent thick, but the word was clear. “Run,” she said, but where could they run, the Queen’s grasp was far and wide, she would surely find them. But reflected in the mirror was a forest and when Ed blinked, his youngest siblings were no longer beside him, instead they were in that forest. Nurse had sent them to the forest, not somewhere they’d be safe, not somewhere She wouldn’t be able to find them, but somewhere where they were far enough to hide for a while, until something was done. She wouldn’t be able to find them for a long time.

Hailey gripped Hale’s hand, he was making the strangled bird noises again, like he was trying to speak, but she figured Hound had broken his windpipe because the Queen had told him to. She smiled, a small reassuring smile that didn’t quite make it, but it was enough. “W-w-we’ll be o-okay,” she said and he nodded. They started walking, her feet was bare and the ground was laced with freshly fallen snow, it seemed like winter was everywhere. They were both stumbling, she because she hadn’t walked in a while and her legs were shaky, he because of the cold and his terror. Night seemed to go on forever as at last they made it to the edge of the forest to the road, but by then they were too tired and fell down at the side, fingers still entwined. Snow covered them, but the passing limousine that was at the moment taking a very important man home had stopped because the sharp eyed driver spotted them in the head lights.

The very important man, Arch Duke Antonio Benvenuto De’ Laurence, gripped his cigar, only a twinge of annoyance on his face. “Why’d you stop Ozzy,” he asked the driver in another ancient accent. The driver stared at the scene outside the front window, not believing his eyes. “Sir, there are children out there,” he said and a flicker of surprise crossed the Arch Duke’s eyes. He took a drag of the cigar, “Cinder, go inspect,” he told the man across from his with shaded eyes wearing leather. The bodyguard left the car and trudged in the snow to the two children. He trudged back to the limo in a hurry. “Children,” he told the Arch Duke. The man stared blankly into space for a moment and took another drag from his cigar. “Bring them,” he said and so Cinder did. They woke up once they entered the warmness of the car, they woke with a start, blinking. They curled up together in the limo’s leather seats next to Cinder, wet, cold, and shivering, they smelled of blood, hate, anger, and magic, thick and ancient. The limo drove through the night and dawn broke the sky. “What are your names,” asked the Antonio softly. The little boy chirped up and made the broken bird noises then frowned as he realized he could not speak. So his sister spoke. “H-h-hailey,” she said softly, barely a whisper, then pointed to the boy. “Hale.” The man nodded and he caught a glimpse of the marks on her wrist, and something flickered across his eyes, lasting only a second, but it was enough to make the children try and push back into the seat. It was anger, and they hoped he wasn’t angry at them. “How old are you,” he asked. Hailey didn’t trust herself not to stutter, so she held up her hands giving them full view of the red marks on her wrist and scars going down her arm, some of the fresh wounds still oozed red. She opened her left hand fully and then carefully held up two fingers on her right.

“Seven. This year?”

She nodded.

“Who do you belong to, your Mama and Papa?”

They both looked at him with big, terrified eyes and again tried to scramble back into the seat. Antonio understood even without Hailey’s next words. “N-no,” she said. Antonio took them to his home city and placed them in a hospital, same room, since they cried when someone tried to separate them. Hale’s windpipe was broken, they were assured it would heal but he might not speak properly again. He was still recovering from recent wounds and an x-ray showed the fractures in his ribs, but he doctor said he was fine, that he was the better off of the two, except for his voice. Hailey on the other hand, she lost a lot of blood, and a majority of her wounds were fresh, she’d have to stay in the hospital for a while. “The boy can go in two weeks though,” said Dr. Harris, the one De’ Laurence family trusted. Hale did not leave the hospital after two weeks, when they tried to take him he screamed and cried; clinging to the metal bed frame and Hailey screamed with him, they would not be separated.

Antonio laughed and said to leave them be. “Whatever they’ve been through, it’s best they face the aftermath together,” he said. When the month ended Hailey and Hale were taken to Raven Crest Manor, that sat on a hill in the best part of town. There, Antonio assured them, they’d be safe, he grinned flashing canines that made them flinch. “H-h-hound?” Hailey stuttered and Antonio shook his head. “Something else Bambina, something else.” From that day onward Hailey and Hale had become De’ Laurence, and could not be touched. The Ice Queen and her subjects would not be able to find them for a long time.