Of Sorcery and Snow (16 page)

Now he was
really
worrying me—imagining stuff about people. I'd never noticed anything between Paul and Vicky. “Chase, how can I help you?”

I was thinking along the lines of taking his pack before we got to the ice slab pile ten feet ahead, but he said, “Just let me sleep. I'll be okay after sleep. And food would be nice.”

I sighed. This was why I wanted him to tell Lena about being half Fey. She would know exactly what excuse we could give Miriam to convince her to stop for the night. She would help us keep the secret.

We took the ice slab pile really slow. Chase slipped once, and he almost dragged me down with him. He really couldn't go much farther. At the top, when he stopped to catch his breath, his wings disappeared, and then I had an idea.

“Don't try to catch me,” I warned him. “That'll defeat the purpose.”

Then I stepped away from him and fell, shrieking a little to make sure Miriam and Lena noticed.

“Rory!” Chase said.

Sliding down the fifteen-foot slope, I made sure to include
lots
of arm flailing. The only part I didn't plan on was the gap between the ice slabs and the flat trail. Specifically the
puddle
inside the gap. My foot went straight into it.

“Ugh!” I said, splashing out. No need to fake frustration now.

“Are you okay?” Lena sprinted over the snow. Miriam came back more slowly, scowling hard, like every step in the wrong direction pained her. Chase slid down and stared hard at me, waiting to see what I was up to.

“Is it sprained? Can you still walk? Do you need some of the Water?” Lena asked me.

I stood up. My foot was fine, but my soaked boot squished unpleasantly. “I don't think we need to break out the Water just yet. But Miriam, this is ridiculous. It's dark. We should stop.”

“I think we have a few more miles left in us,” said Miriam evenly.

“I don't,” I said, trying to sound less whiny and more authoritative. “My adrenaline wore off about a half mile ago. It's only a matter of time before someone breaks a leg.”

Miriam glared down at me. “I know you three think you're the king and queens of all the other little eighth graders, but I have news for you: I'm in charge here.”

That annoyed me. The three of us had been on quests before.
She
hadn't. “Or someone could break their neck. The Water can't fix that.”

Lena was more sympathetic. “I know you really want to cover as much territory as possible tonight, Miriam, but I
am
pretty tired. And we really can't afford to make mistakes.”

“You're just a bunch of bullies, aren't you?” Yikes. Miriam's good mood was gone, and it was my fault. “Fine, but we're getting an early start tomorrow. No more excuses.”

“Great.” Chase dropped where he was, dragged his pack in front of him, and pawed through it until he found his sleeping bag. “I call this nice flat spot with all the cushy snow.”

“Wait! I adapted this spell.” Lena moved behind me, unzipped my carryall, and pulled out that big tile, which she placed on the ground. Then she said, in loud clear Fey,
“Oh, snow servants, you're pretty swell, but we need a temporary place to dwell.”

Chase snorted. Using “swell” in a rhyme reached a new level of giggle-worthy, even for her.

Then a half dozen headless snowmen rose. They were shaped exactly like the dirt servants hiding in Mom's garden, except these had spades instead of fists. They immediately started cutting blocks out of the ice and arranging them into walls.

Miriam was too shocked to see walking snow to be mad anymore. “Are they, for serious, making an igloo?”

“Yes! Well, kind of.” Lena beamed. “I downloaded snow structure building online yesterday and embedded the techniques in the tile with, you know, the usual—the clay figurines and powdered dragon scales. I wasn't sure whether or not I needed to burn it first—to get its essence—so I did
both
, and . . .”

She can chatter about new inventions for hours if no one
stops her. Miriam looked like she regretted asking.

Chase leaned in, so his voice wouldn't carry over the sound of the snow servants. “You're getting better at lying.”

It was true. I'd had a ton of practice over the past few years. My mother had probably found my letter by now.

I wish I couldn't, but I could picture the horror on her face. She probably tried calling me first, then breaking through the San Fran Door Trek door, then calling people in the middle of the night. Mom was wondering where I was, just like the parents in Portland were worrying about their kids, because I was good at hiding the truth.

I hadn't even told Lena and Chase that Brie was having a girl. That might count as lying too.

But Chase had meant it as a compliment. So all I said was, “Be proud. I just channeled
you
.”

He grinned sleepily. “Hey, your pack has the Lunch Box of Plenty, right?”

And so, while the snow servants cut and stacked their third layer of bricks, Chase ordered a cheeseburger from the Lunch Box. When the walls grew as tall as her shoulders, Miriam made us change out of our fancy clothes. She
said
it was only to save time the next morning, but I think it was punishment for forcing her to make camp. With the dragon scale clamped in my fist, I didn't feel the cold, but it was
super
awkward to change into my jeans out in the open. Even if Miriam had made Chase go on the opposite side of the snow hut.

Especially if. I mean, he
was
a boy.

Chase finished dressing first. When the tile servants placed the last block and collapsed into little snowballs, he dove through the rounded hole at the bottom of one wall.

“Okay. Right,” said Lena, still trying to take out her contacts. “No need to test it out. The structure looks pretty sound.”

“Thanks, Lena,” came Chase's voice from inside.

Miriam kicked it once, hard. Lena yelped, but the blocks didn't shift. “Seems safe,” said our Tale bearer, and she crawled inside.

“
Thanks,
Miriam. You got
snow
in my sleeping bag,” Chase said.

“What if that Searcaster giant comes back?” Miriam said, as Lena and I scooted in after her. The roof was too close to stand up in, but it was kind of cozy. “Doesn't a little house made out of snow scream that people are here?”

“This is why we have watches.” When Chase finished shaking the snow out of his sleeping bag, he flopped on top of it, eyes closed, and kicked off his shoes. “I call last watch.”

“I'll do the first one since you guys are all tired,” Miriam said, not in a supernice way. “What do I do? Just look for giants on the horizon?”

“Um. You could,” I said politely, “or if you wanted to stay inside, you could just watch the mini magic mirror.” I flipped open my M3 case and chanted the spell that turned the radar on:
“Show me our enemies, if you don't mind, please.”

“Got it.” Miriam snatched the M3 from my hand and stormed outside. She probably would have slammed the door if we had one. Not a great start to the quest.

I mean, it
was
her Tale. She should be in charge, and we
had
kind of bullied her into stopping.

Lena unrolled her sleeping bag. “I call third watch. Rory, I give you permission to poke me until I get out of bed.”

Someone had to tell Miriam which one of us she needed to wake up for the next shift. I grabbed the Lunch Box and crawled out. At least I could bring her a peace offering.

Then I discovered another downside to not having a door: Miriam didn't hear me coming.

She hugged her knees, peering into the mirror she'd balanced on top of them. The M3's soft gray light lit up her chin, leaving the rest of her face in shadow, but a tiny tear glinted on the side of her nose.

I was a humungous jerk.

I would be a better Companion after tonight. I wouldn't get Chase and Lena to gang up on her ever again. I would let her make
all
the decisions. “Miriam?”

Her head jerked up. Two more tears dribbled from her eyes, and she didn't even
try
to hide them. “Philip never listens to me! I can't believe he decided to remember
that
. I wasn't even talking to him—Mom and Dad had both promised to come to my tournament in Eugene. College scouts were going to be there, and I
had
to make a good impression. But Philip's been sucking in geometry this year. My parents convinced his teacher to let him retake the last test he bombed, but it was on the same day as the tournament. Dad announced he was going to stay behind with him, and it seemed so important, and George and I had just broken up, so I just—I always say stuff I don't mean when I lose my temper, and it came spewing out of my mouth. I think that was the last thing he heard me say.”

I'd made the right decision, not getting involved with Brie's baby. You didn't need to do anything as intense as locking a sister in a tower. Younger siblings were so easy to hurt.

“He
has
to know I didn't mean it,” Miriam murmured, mostly to herself.

Well, I couldn't ask her if she wanted the Lunch Box
now
. So, instead, what popped out of my mouth was, “You and George broke up?”

They'd been together practically since my first day at EAS. Inseparable.

Miriam shrugged. “It didn't make any sense to stay together. I mean, he'll be a college student in, like, two months. We'll never see each other.”

“Does Lena know?” I asked.

Miriam wiped her face. “I don't think George told his family yet.”

Silence stretched out between us.

I remembered all the times the three of us had run into Miriam and George, and they'd been laughing, or holding hands, or studying together. When everybody got poisoned last spring, they'd picked beds side-by-side. I remembered Lena teasing George about it. I'd never imagined them breaking up. I'd always thought they were part of each other's
happily ever after
. That was what Sarah Thumb had said.

But once, when I was very young, I thought that about my parents, too.

“I'm sorry.” Great. I sounded awkward, even to myself.

“It just sucks!” she burst out, almost crying again. “Now I'm alone in the
Arctic Circle
with a bunch of bossy kids, who just so happen to be Philip's best chance. I know you don't want to hear that right now, but it's
true
. And it
sucks
.”

“I'm
really
sorry about earlier,” I said, meaning it this time. I set the Lunch Box down next to her. “I thought you might want some coffee. To keep you up until it's time to wake me for the next watch.”

Miriam snorted. “I barely slept last night—what makes tonight any different?”

“It's really cold,” I offered.

She cracked a tiny smile, but it disappeared as soon as she remembered she was mad at me. “Thanks, Rory.” When I hesitated, she waved me off. “We're
good
. You can go to sleep now.”

I didn't feel very tired either, but I crawled back inside anyway.

By the time I'd pulled off my sword belt, boots, and jacket, Lena's soft purring snores filled the snow hut.

Chase was out too. His burger was still in his hand, only three bites taken out of it, I'd never seen him too exhausted to finish a meal.

He hadn't seemed tired at all when we'd danced. Fighting the enchantment hadn't shown on his face inside Queen Titania's pavilion. He'd just told me that we were going to be okay. He'd known that
I
was scared. He hadn't even bragged very much afterward.

I was lucky to have friends like these.

They weren't like Natalie and Shakayla. When I picked Lena and Chase for Companions, they would never let me leave without them.
Never
.

“You're awesome,” I whispered to Chase, taking the burger from his hand.

I would have never admitted that if I thought he was awake, so I jumped when he mumbled, “I know.”

Then he rolled away, closer to the wall, and fell asleep for real, and I wondered why I felt so embarrassed.

That night, I didn't dream of my ancient door.

I dreamed of Torlauth di Morgian, a sneer on his face and a sword in his hand. I had my sword out too, but I turned to the other people in the room. The Snow Queen smiled. Chase managed to look smug even with one of Solange's trolls holding his
arms behind his back. Lena tried hard to nod encouragingly even though she was crying.

As my free hand slid into my pocket, I knew one thing: I had brought us here, and so
I
had killed us all.