The Frozen Beginning (Elemental Diamond Book 1) (6 page)

What is with this place and its lack of door handles?

Glacier hesitantly touches the small screen with her finger, and the door opens with a small click and a whoosh. The room lights with a harsh glow automatically, and Glacier is welcomed by the view of a crystal white-wall bathroom with a large double shower and a lone wall shielding the middle. The porcelain toilet and basin have matte black colour schemes and the towels over the rack are a soft blue.

Her lips open in awe, and she looks back at the screen that now illuminates with a menu. Glacier presses the button that reads
Lights
and a submenu comes forward.

The option
Ceiling
is highlighted, with other options including
Floor
and
Vanity
below it. Glacier taps
Ceiling
and the lights turn off. She then presses
Floor
. Small floor lights brighten the shiny room with a softer glow than the ceiling lights. Glacier presses the button again, and the room is dark once more.

Glacier presses another button and the door closes. She walks across to the other doorway opposing the bed. This one has no door, just an entrance with the same panel as the bathroom. Glacier presses the same
Light
button as she did for the bathroom, and the light flickers on.

Glacier finds at least a hundred variations of clothing lining the wardrobe racks, and shoes of all varieties filling the shelves. She walks into the spacious room, touching all the soft fabrics of the fancy dresses and skirts. Everything is blue, with the odd white and black accessories.

Hunting through the gowns and fancy dress shirts, she searches for something comfortable and
clean
to wear to bed. Something that isn’t stained with her father’s blood.

The closest Glacier can find to comfortable looking nightwear is a silk black nightgown that only reaches mid-thigh and a pair of cotton undergarments. She locates a blue robe near the jackets, and takes them with her to the bathroom.

Glacier only turns on the vanity and floor lights when she enters the bathroom this time. She rests her pyjamas on the counter and observes her reflection. Her hair sits limp and knotted, and her face is flush with patchy pink cheeks and a dark purple bruise across her nose. Her eyes, something her father had always said were uniquely beautiful, are bloodshot and lifeless.

Here I am, surrounded in riches and glamour and luxury, and all I want is my broken home and my shabby clothing
.

Glacier feels deep down that she is wasting the opportunity that she has by being here, but she can’t bring herself to care about it. She doesn’t want the luxury, or the money, or the fame when it came at the price of her father’s life and Castor’s freedom.

She turns in the mirror, and pulls her sweater down past her shoulder to see where her skin tingles in pain; there are two large puncture marks adorning her skin, looking red and swollen with irritation. Glacier moves away from the mirror and moves back to turn off the vanity light. She doesn’t want to look at herself when she looks as miserable and pathetic as she does.

She strips her clothing, leaving it in a pile on the ground. When she steps into the shower, she hears a computed voice and jumps in surprise.

“Good Evening, Miss Wardgrave. My name is PAM. I am your Personal Assistance Monitor. I am here to help with any need or service you may require.”

A computer in the shower… Are they serious?

“Uh, hi, PAM. I’m Glacier.”

“Would you like me to assist you with the temperature of the water? If not, you can switch the settings to manual on the power menu.”

Glacier stands in the middle of the shower cubical, naked and stunned, listening to the voice reverberate from the ceiling. From where exactly, she isn’t sure.

“Uh, thanks, that would be good.”

“How hot would you like your shower?”

She hesitates, “Um, can I please have it cold?”

The showerhead projects sharp jets of water, dousing her face. The water cleans the cut across her forehead, a stinging sensation echoing across it.

Glacier doesn’t feel the cold; she never has. It simply feels like the water is the same temperature as her skin.

She closes her eyes and turns to face away from the projectile, then tilt her head back. The water runs through her snow hair, the knots slipping away with the currents.

Her shoulder stings where Michaels had stabbed her with the barbs of his stun rod. The memory is suddenly fresh in her mind, and her body jerks from the remembrance of the raging electricity coursing through her bones in powerful waves.

Opening her eyes, Glacier notices the water gathered at the bottom is now a frozen sheen of ice. Her feet stay planted firmly against the what would be a slippery surface, but Glacier doesn’t feel the slipperiness that accompanies it.

Glacier leans her hand against the wall as a brace before slowly moving her foot against the ice. Expecting her foot to slip, it surprises her when it doesn’t.

It feels like walking on concrete
.

Glacier has perfect balance and stability. But when the water continues to freeze at the bottom and blocks the drain, the cubical starts to flood.

“PAM, could you please make the water warm now. No…
hot
; make it really hot.”

Glacier quickly moves away from the pouring water to refrain from being burnt, and wait on the opposite end of the shower. The bathroom floods with thick steam, clouding the mirror and glass with condensation.

The ice cracks before it melts into the hot streams, and rinses down the drain. When the last of the ice is gone, Glacier asks PAM to make the water warm, and finishes cleaning herself.

How did I do that? How is it even possible?

Once Glacier is done, she steps out with her mind reeling from what happened. She dries herself off and changes into her clean clothes; the silk feels like feathers against her skin, the softest she has ever felt. Glacier walks out into the bedroom with her clothes under her arm and turns off the lights, sitting down on the bed.

As she continues to dry her hair with her mind whirling over the ice in the shower, her eyes are drawn to the small flask on the bedside stand. Glacier pauses before lowering the towel and reaching for the grey bottle.

After she folds her clothes and towel at the end of the bed, Glacier walks back into the bathroom, only switching on the vanity lights. When she is in front of the mirror, she ignores her damaged face and turns to observe her shoulder where Mr Michaels had dug the barbs of the stun rod into her skin.

Glacier can see the small holes as her back is exposed with only thin straps supporting her nightgown. The piercing marks look slightly bruised and irritated. Glacier shakes the bottle with quick movements before twisting her arm around and spraying the small holes. The spray is wet, clinging to the skin. Shortly after, Glacier starts to feel a small tingling.

The tingling slowly morphs into a more intense pain, and Glacier cries out. She muffles herself with the length of her thumb. Shoving it in her mouth and biting through the pain as her other arm quivers. Glacier can feel an intense itch burn across her skin as she breaks out in a sweat. Watching through squinted eyes, Glacier observes as the holes slowly close.

Glacier gives a small, muffled cry right before the pain starts to dissipate. Finally releasing her hand, she notices teeth indentations from biting so hard. Looking over at her now completely healed shoulder, her eyes widen.

It worked
…

Glacier and her father had been working on a formula that could heal any flesh wound. A few days ago, they had come to the conclusion that it could only be administered as a spray. Glacier had taken the prototype from her father’s room. If it had been successful, it would have helped thousands of elementals.

With an antidote like this, it will be easier to win battles. She can erase any of her flesh injuries from the previous battle.

I might actually have a shot at making it to the end
.

Glacier heaves in a few deep breaths as she regains her composure and wipes her forehead. With an elastic Glacier finds in one of the bathroom draws, she ties her tough curls back into a bun at the nape of her neck and splashes some water on her face to relax her. Glacier braces her hands against the edge of the counter, staring at her reflection challengingly.

“You need to win.”

~

There is a quick rap on her door, causing Glacier to jolt awake. She looks out the window, and the sun is shining brightly behind the curtains. Glacier looks around for a clock but does not find one.

“Uh, PAM?”

“Yes, Miss Wardgrave?” PAM’s computerized voice sounds.

“What is the time?” Glacier’s tired voice is barely audible as she rubs her eyes, moving the covers away.

“The time is seven fifty-six A.M.”

Glacier nods to herself before grabbing the robe from the end of her bed, wrapping it around herself and walking over to the door.

Since when are people awake at this hour?

The same as last night, when Glacier is close enough the door opens out into separate panels, disappearing behind the wall. Standing on the other side of the door is the boy who had delivered her dinner last night. He smiles at her again, but this time his smile is different, almost apologetic.

“Morning miss. I have your breakfast.” His tone is off as he watches her approach. Glacier returns his smile in hopes that he won’t stare anymore. She quickly grabs the dome that had her dinner from last night still trapped inside, and trades him.

“Did you enjoy your dinner?” His question is fair, and Glacier can tell he is trying not to stare openly at her.

“I wasn’t really that hungry last night,” she replies, in case he goes down and realizes that she hadn’t touched her dinner.

“Oh. Well, enjoy your breakfast.” Just as he goes to walk away with his cart, Glacier stops him.

“Wait!”

He turns around with a surprised gaze, and returns to where he was, leaving his cart.

“Yes?”

Glacier swallows her pride and asks him, “How do you open it?” Her voice is just above a whisper, but she knows he hears her when he gives her a peculiar look.

He presses his finger on the top of the dome in the centre, and a button glows under his touch. The dome cascades down around the plate below it, revealing poached eggs with a thick yellow sauce, buttered toast and cracked pepper.

“Thanks,” she mutters quietly, before shooting him another quick smile and disappearing back into her room.

How the hell was I supposed to know that was how you open it? Why is nothing simple here?

Glacier moves to the same spot on the floor as last night, and eats. The creamy sauce explodes with enchanting flavours on her taste buds; it is so delicious that she finishes the entire plate in a few minutes.

When she finishes, Glacier places the empty plate on the nightstand and strides into the wardrobe to find clothes for when she leaves for the stadium.

She changes into light blue jeans and a cotton t-shirt, some of the only casual clothes, leaving her feet bare. Glacier fixes her bun, and as she walks out of the wardrobe there is another knock on the door, louder than earlier.

Is it time to leave already? Melana said I wouldn’t be leaving until later…

Glacier steps in front of the door and it slides out as it opens, revealing the two men her father had attacked when they come to collect her. She hesitates at the sight of them standing there.

W
hy are they here?

Glacier braces herself for an attack when they step into her room. Suddenly Thomes appears behind them and enters the room as well.

“Good morning, Miss Wardgrave! And how are we this morning?”

Glacier blanches at his presence. Her eyes are wide but her lips form a tight line. A sudden, powerful anger Glacier feels from looking at him sparks hatred so strong, she knew she hadn’t felt anything as strongly.

The thought that her father’s murder stands before her, carrying the same weapon he had used against him makes her sick to her stomach. She feels knots tighten in her gut, and her skin burn hot with rage. A scream resembling a vicious cat bounces off the walls in an echo before Glacier launches herself at him in an animalistic craze. Her head tells her only one thing.

Murderer.

But before her hands can come remotely close to his throat, the other two guards swoop in and grab each of her arms, pulling her back to where she started. Glacier hisses and growls as she tries to shake away, but they hold tight.

“Stop behaving like a Critter, my dear. It is very unbecoming.” His voice causes her teeth to grind and her eyes to narrow with an unsuppressed rage.

Glacier quivers with anger she has no idea how to control, like a monster has awakened inside of her and taken over, refusing to let go.

“We’ll make this quick. I just have to deliver something from Chancellor Staren, then you can continue on with your day,” Glacier watches as he pulls out a gun of some sort, with a large, square barrel. Glacier stills at the revelation of it before she tries pulling back, away from him.

“No, please don’t!”

He ignores her plea as he advances towards her. The guards holding either arm rotate her until her back is facing Thomes. She senses Thomes behind her before his hand lifts her shirt. Glacier struggles against the guard’s strong hold, flinging her body side to side in efforts to avoid Thomes’ weapon. He growls in irritation before he orders the men to pin her on the ground.

They quickly slam her face down onto the carpet, and her nose explodes with pain when she hits the floor. Glacier cries out and continues to struggle against their unyielding hold. Thomes lifts her shirt again, exposing the small of her back. She feels the barrel of the pistol against her skin and her body quakes with fear.

A severe shot of pain punctures her flesh, and Glacier feels something latch deep into her skin, as well as something move just
beneath
her flesh. Her throat dries from her muffled painful screams, and heavy tears falling to the carpet. Her broken face rubs irritatingly against the fibres, but she feels too weak to move.