I decided having Skreeklavic living in a cave was dumb. Why not a mansion? Then there's a hint of backstory as well. Caves are so...backward.
Chapter 11 - On the Devil's Doorstep
Jack turned to the perfect circular hole in the ceiling, through which the moonlight shone weakly, and let it shine on his upturned face.
Elsa bit back a gasp. He looked like an angel, all wreathed in cold light, white hair and pale skin strongly contrasted against his stunning blue eyes. She watched as he looked up at the moon, and then his voice reached her ears, soft and pleading.
"I'm sorry, Sir," he said, almost inaudibly. "I don't know what to do. How could You let this happen? Aren't You supposed to be a Guardian, too? You chose us, all of us, and now You've failed us." He choked, and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, and then, "Where can I find Ombric?"
There was silence.
Elsa reached out and pulled on his sleeve, taking him out of the light.
"Jack! What are you doing?"
He sighed. "The Man in the Moon. I thought, at least, He would give me a sign, but I don't know what to d—"
Both of them took a step back as a shadow began to grow in the middle of the moonlight on the floor.
Jack blinked. "—I thought he wouldn't." Then, his eyes went very round. "No. You can't be serious."
The shadow figure was full-size now, the shape of a man with a crooked back, a long cloak, and the longest incisor teeth Elsa had ever seen.
"What is it?" she asked, staring at it.
Then, the light faded completely, and the shadow was gone.
"Anyone but Skreeklavic," Jack muttered.
"Who's Skreeklavic?" the queen asked, getting a little annoyed by his cryptic answers.
"Skreeklavic Shadowbent," Jack's face was grim. "He's a vampire."
"A vampire?" she gasped.
"Yes. And he'll know where Santoff Claussen, Ombric's village, is."
"Hold on; Ombric? Who's Ombric?"
Jack blew out his breath all at once. "I'm really bad at that, aren't I? Explaining things? Ombric Shalazar is the last wizard, and he lives in a village somewhere. He would know what we should do. He might even know where the Guardians are!"
"So, the Man in the Moon just told you to go ask a vampire where to find a wizard?" she blinked up at him.
"Sweet Manny, it sounds strange when you say it like that, Elsa," he ran his long fingers through his hair, mussing it up. "But yes, exactly."
She felt odd, taking everything he said as truth, especially when it sounded so unbelievable, but then again, if it weren't true, would she be standing in the North Pole, talking to Jack Frost?
He sighed again. "Listen, Skreeklavic and I...well, let's just say we aren't on the best terms. I've played some pretty nasty tricks on him over the years—nothing recently, of course—and I don't think he'll fancy seeing me. Are you sure you still want to come?"
She nodded. "Yes, I am. Never alone, right?' she reached out and took one of his big hands in hers. He sucked in his breath sharply, startled, staring at her.
She felt silly. "Too far," she mumbled, "I'm sorry."
"No," he said quickly, tightening his grip on her hand as she tried to pull it away. "You just—you just took me by surprise."
They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking, before they realized the sun was coming up.
"Never alone," he repeated, almost in wonder. Then, he let her hand go reluctantly and straightened up.
Elsa felt hot and flushed. She never did anything bold like that, and yet this young man seemed to draw it out of her.
He cleared his throat, flashing her a soft smile. "We should go, Snowflake."
"Y-yes," she focused on trying to calm down. "Are we flying?"
He grinned. "I have an idea about that." He hopped over to the desk and turned back to her, clutching a round glass ball. "North's snowglobes. They can take you anywhere."
"But...couldn't it take us to the wizard then?" she ventured.
"I wish! You have to know where you're going. Once, it worked like that, but we don't know why."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," he turned the globe over, eyeing it, "a little girl used one to get to Bunny's Warren in Australia, but we have no idea how." He sighed. Then, he looked down at her, holding it out in front of him. "Are you ready, Snowflake?"
She nodded, taking his proffered hand.
He brought the snowglobe close to his face and said, "Carpathian Mountains, Shadowbent's outpost."
The glass glowed blue briefly, and an image of a mountain range covered in snow appeared inside. He tossed it at the bookshelf.
Just before it made contact, the glass burst up into a whirling ring of colours, and Jack pulled her through.
The portal led them to a snowy mountainside covered in pine trees. Jack picked it up out of the snow and stuck it in his hoodie pocket. "Handy things, these," he said. "It's over here, Elsa. C'mon."
He led her between the trees through the snow, until they came to a huge clearing, in which stood an ancient run-down mansion.
"Is this it? Is this where he lives?" she whispered.
"Yes. We should probably go quickly. They've probably already picked up our scent."
"Who?" Elsa scrambled after him through an open iron gate, and down an icy path.
"The wolves. He's the captain of the Werewolvian Hordes. And they don't like me."
She trotted in his footsteps, heart thudding in her ears. Werewolves, too?
As if in answer to her thought, a howl shattered the peaceful silence. A human-like howl.
As Jack mounted the front steps, there came an answering cry, from closer by, followed by sharp yipping and more spine-chilling howls.
Jack reached for the door knocker and let it drop against the heavy door. She turned to him.
"What exactly did you do to these 'wolves'?" She tried to steady her voice, but it still trembled.
There was another chorus of human-emitted cries, much, much closer this time.
"Better not to know, Elsa," he tried the knocker again.
She gazed out into the pale light and saw dark shapes moving between the snow-clad trees and shrubbery, closing in.
"J-Jack," she said warningly.
He grit his teeth and raised a fist to pound on the door.
Before the blow fell, the door opened a little, not enough for them to see anyone on the other side, and a voice spoke.
"Jack Frost," it said, deep and pleasant, "How good to see you! It's been a long time."
"Let's not waste time on pleasantries, Captain," the Winter Spirit said. "You could scarcely mean them in any case. Call off your men."
Men? Elsa reached out to steady herself on the wall, looking out at the path, where she had expected to see wolves.
Instead, emerging from hiding and moving closer, she saw a collection of the most wild, rundown men she had ever seen.
Their hair and beards were a tangled mess, their clothes were made of fur, rough and ragged, and deep, thick white scars ran across their faces.
But their eyes were bright and clear, and held nothing but hatred.
"Why should I call them off, Frost, after what you've done?" the voice behind the door hissed. "Why should they not be allowed to take revenge for their lost brothers?"
"Captain Shadowbent, you know as well as I that the avalanche was not my doing. Mother Nature has no love for you or your wolves. Call off your men, sir." He sounded calm, but Elsa could see the panic in his eyes.
The bedraggled men gathered at the foot of the mansion steps, waiting for a word from their master.
There was a moment of silence, which seemed to stretch on and on, and then the voice barked, "Spare them! I wish to learn of their business."
The men began to disperse, but they stayed close.
Jack's shoulders sagged in relief.
And the door swung open.
There, standing hunched-over and leaning on a cane, stood a thin, pale man with long, stringy grey hair, glittering black eyes, and fangs.
Skreeklavic Shadowbent.
