Kristoff grimaced for about the hundredth time as his beloved sled bounced over yet another bump buried in the snow. It wasn't the initial jolt that bothered him so much as the way that certain parts continued to rattle about after the fact. The worst offender was the seat beneath him. Though his own weight was helping to hold it down somewhat, the busted bracket on the right side meant that both he and the bench were thrown a short distance into the air with every jostle of the sleigh. The result was that his backside felt as if it had been given a rather thorough paddling ever since they had managed their escape from the robbers' hideout. He rather wished it was as hard as he'd bragged that his head was. Or better yet, as hard as the troll who was riding along beside him, apparently experiencing no discomfort whatsoever.

Rohl was sharing the seat with Kristoff so that he could act as navigator and guide them to his clan's home. They had all agreed that was the most sensible place to go once their new friend had assured them that they had some store of food there that would be edible by humans. Besides, not unlike Grand Pabbie, the head of his clan had some skill at healing, and they both had injuries that needed to be tended. That was particularly true of Elsa.

She was sitting in the cargo area at Kristoff's suggestion, so that she wouldn't have to put up with the same rough ride that he was. All she had to worry about was not falling out the back due to the missing tailgate. Well, that and the steadily growing hunger that was gnawing at them both. And the fact that she still hadn't regained the use of her magic. And that she now had no way of tracking Olaf and Anna, which meant that if something didn't change soon, this entire adventure of their's might well end in abysmal failure.

No, nothing to worry about at all.

"Is it much further?" Kristoff asked. He'd been trying his level best not to keep repeating that question too very often, particularly since the growling of his stomach served much the same purpose anyway. But Rohl had assured them that they ought to reach the hot spring and the troll community by nightfall that day, and the shadows were already growing exceedingly long around them.

"Not far now," came the confident response. "I'd guess we're only about half an hour away, as the boulder rolls."

"How about as the sled…" (another bump, another wince) "...bobs?"

Rohl just grinned up at him and winked.

Kristoff frowned a little, but chose not to press the issue. Instead, he twisted around to spare a glance at Elsa. "At least we're finally getting close," he said. "You still doing okay back there?"

Elsa, who had drawn up her knees and was resting her head upon them, looked up and offered him a weak smile. Its failure to reach her eyes rendered it rather unconvincing, yet Kristoff decided it was another matter that he didn't feel capable of pursuing at the moment. He'd run out of reassuring words a day or more back, and the only answers he thought he might have to even the simplest of their many problems amounted to relying on the kindness of strangers. That didn't seem like a particularly worthy source of encouragement. So he settled for returning a halfhearted smile of his own. Then he went back to watching where they were going and trying to guess where the next jolt to the runners might be hiding.

The sun might still have been above the horizon by the time they finally reached their destination, but it was impossible for either Kristoff or Elsa to tell for certain. Per Rohl's instructions, they were approaching his home from the south, following along the base of a lengthy escarpment. The wall of rock was not particularly tall compared to the mountains they were used to in Arendelle, but it rose up sharp and sheer from the surrounding landscape and seemed to stretch on forever in either direction. As a result, they lost the light a good while before someone atop the rocky height would have. Sven, who had already been pulling them along slower than he normally would have in deference to the poor condition of the sled, was forced to slow even further in order to pick his way along safely in the deepening dusk.

"Ah," Rohl finally said with a relieved sigh. "It's good to be home." He pointed, and the two humans peered ahead, Elsa pushing herself up onto her knees in order to see. Sure enough, in the middle distance, they could just make out dozens of tiny pinpoints of light, dancing and wavering through the darkness. They might have been fireflies or starlight reflected on rippling water. The only thing that dispelled that illusion was the panoply of color. Blues, reds, and greens dominated, but scattered yellows and violets could be seen as well.

Kristoff called Sven to a halt even though they were still a goodly distance away. "Might be better to make our entrance on foot," he explained in response to Elsa's quizzical look. "Even with Rohl here to make introductions, we don't want to be rude. Nobody likes it when complete strangers show up unannounced, and they like it even less if they drive their sled right through the front door."

So the three travelers dismounted. With practiced hands, Kristoff quickly unhitched Sven from the sleigh, and then they all walked forward, Rohl in the lead. As they drew nearer, Elsa and Kristoff were gradually able to pick out more details, aided by a pale blue-green glow that seemed to be steadily growing from deep within the well of the hot springs that apparently formed the center of life in this little corner of the world.

The troll home was located in a spacious grotto, which partially arched over the warm waters bubbling up from the broad spring. Indeed, it looked like it might well have been carved out of the cliff face by those very waters and the long passage of time. Trolls of every age and size roamed about, some ambling along the stony shelf beneath the overhanging roof while others sat in small groups and chatted animatedly with one another. A great many of them, though, had waded out into the shallows of the warm pool and were enjoying a luxuriant soak in the mineral-rich waters. The youngsters in particular seemed to gravitate toward the spring, and much splashing and laughter could be heard from them as they engaged in some game that seemed to consist primarily of lobbing pine cones back and forth over their elders' heads. The adults didn't seem to mind this much, even when the occasional cone bounced off one of their green and gray pates.

It was one of the trollings who first noticed the arrival of the unexpected guests.

"Rohl's home!" she announced with a happy shout. Completely ignoring the pine cone that smacked into the water behind her, she hurriedly began making her way to the edge of the pool. "I was hoping you'd be back soon! I've been working really hard shaping that one moon crystal, just like you showed me, and I think I might finally have..."

The young troll suddenly stopped short and then leaned back, her green eyes growing wider and wider as they roved up well above Rohl's head. By the time they stumbled upon Elsa's blue ones, they were as wide as saucers. Elsa smiled kindly down at her, and there was genuine warmth in her expression this time.

"Mama!"

The girl turned and ran pell-mell in the opposite direction, calling for her mother over and over again as she went. It was that more than anything that drew the rest of the clan's attention. All conversation stopped, and all eyes followed the fleeing youngster. Then they all turned as one to see what exactly it was that she was fleeing from.

A startled Elsa was unsure how to react, and therefore did not. Kristoff – having a vague sense that, as the troll expert between the two of them, it was somehow his job to take charge of the situation – raised one hand in greeting.

"Hello," he said with a simple nod.

They could almost hear the sound of all those eyes just blinking back at them.

"Get Grand Mahble," someone whispered loudly.

From the vicinity of their knees, they heard Rohl mutter, "Well, that could have gone better. You should have let me do the talking."

"Talking? What talking? All I said was, 'Hello!'" Kristoff nearly spluttered in his indignation.

"Yeah, but it was the way you said it," Rohl clarified.

"And what way was that?"

"Tall."

Before Kristoff could reply, a low rumbling noise drew everyone's attention. Troll and human alike watched as what looked like a large boulder slowly rolled through the crowd, finally coming to a halt a short distance in front of the newcomers. When it unfurled, it revealed a matronly troll who appeared even more ancient than the venerable elder of Kristoff's own clan.

"Molten magma, Rohl!" she exclaimed, giving the younger troll a stern look. "It's a scout's job to bring back crystals and to warn us of strangers, not the other way 'round! What have you gotten into this time?"

Rohl squared his rounded shoulders, but if he was trying to look defiant, the effect was soundly spoiled by the sheepish expression upon his face. "They were in trouble, Gran. I stumbled across them while I was exploring that big cave system down south. You know, the one where I always find all the best stuff. They were being held by Milda's bunch, and..."

"Milda? Rohl, you know perfectly well the only reason I let you keep going back to that place is because you swore to me that you'd stay well away from those humans. They're nothing but trouble. Even their own folk know that. And now you've gone and brought the trouble home with you!"

Rohl decided to risk a reassuring smile. "No, no, it's not like that, really. For starters, I was trying to avoid them. How was I supposed to know they'd suddenly decide to make use of a tunnel I thought they'd abandoned years ago? And besides that, these two..."

"Three," Kristoff corrected, laying a hand upon Sven's shoulder. But when both trolls favored him with a look of supreme annoyance, he seemed to wilt a little, apparently deciding that maybe the time had indeed come to follow the advice about who should and shouldn't be talking. Rohl turned back to Grand Mahble.

"...they were just innocent travelers who got waylaid by that band of bandits. Just because they were in trouble doesn't mean that they are trouble."

"Maybe they were and maybe they weren't, but now that you've brought them here, they most definitely are. Honestly, it wasn't bad enough revealing our existence to them? You had to show them right where we live, too? Remaining hidden from humans is how this clan has managed to stay safe for so long, Rohl. I always thought you had more sense than this."

"Yeah, but Grand Mahble..."

"But? But what? What possible excuse could you have to justify doing something so incredibly foolish?"

"Um, excuse me," Elsa interrupted in a quiet and oh-so-very-polite voice. The look Grand Mahble turned on her wasn't much more friendly than the one Kristoff had received, but Elsa had endured far worse to be appreciably intimidated by it now. Putting on the no-nonsense face she always sought to bring to the negotiating table, she looked back at the old troll without flinching and said, quite simply, "We already knew about trolls."

Grand Mahble favored her with a condescending and skeptical grimace. "Of course you did."

"Well, given that Kristoff here was pretty much raised by them, and that the head of his clan saved my sister's life when she was just five years old, and that Bulda and Cliff have both practically begun picking out baby names for when she and Kristoff finally… Ahem. Anyway, the point is that yes, we do."

The troll matriarch scowled up at Elsa. Then she scowled at Kristoff. Finally and predictably, she scowled at Rohl. "Even assuming I was to believe such a story, how could you possibly have known that was the case before you decided on this little rescue of yours?"

Rohl's face lit up with triumphant vindication as he pointed dramatically at Kristoff. "Because I heard this one singing one of our lullabies."

For the first time, it appeared that Grand Mahble didn't have a ready response. Instead, she regarded Kristoff again, her face wholly inscrutable. Judging that to be an improvement over the open hostility she had displayed up to that point, he quickly considered his options. Then he squatted down, tapped Rohl on the shoulder, and pointed at his pack. His eyebrows raised with curiosity, the troll unslung it and handed it over.

Opening it, Kristoff peered inside. Then he plunged his hand in and, a moment later, withdrew Rohl's crystal blade. Handing the rest of the pack back, he flipped the knife downward and proceeded to use the tip to scratch a series of overlapping lines in the rocky ground just before his feet. When he had finished, he flipped the sharp crystal around again and offered it, handle first, back to Rohl. Then he watched Grand Mahble intently, waiting for her reaction.

She stared at the markings he had made, a frown back on her face again. Then she gave a loud snort – or maybe it was a muted laugh – and a curt nod. Turning around, she began to walk off, but she gave them a beckoning gesture as she did so. "Right. Follow me then."

"About time," Kristoff grumbled quietly. "All the same, might be best if you wait here, Sven. We shouldn't be gone long." He gave the reindeer a quick pat on his neck, then set off after the troll. Despite the gruff tone of his words, the tight muscles in his jaw suggested that he was trying hard not to smirk.

This left Elsa looking between the two retreating backs and the scratches on the ground, plainly confused. "Troll runes?" she guessed. "What do they say?"

Rohl was chuckling. "'Can I talk now?'" he quoted through his laughter. "Come on. Best not to keep her waiting." He hurried off after the others, and Elsa followed close behind.

Grand Mahble led the companions to the back of the grotto. There, a flat slab of slate had been pushed against the wall like some sort of dais. The elderly troll climbed up onto it with some small amount of difficulty, then sat down and faced the other three. Her eyes settled on Kristoff.

"Well, you wanted to talk," she said testily. "So talk. You can start by telling me exactly how it is that you came to be raised by trolls. Then after that, maybe you can explain how somebody with such a solid and sensible upbringing would ever let themselves get mixed up with the likes of Milda and her bunch. And when all that's done, then we can get around to why you've come here and what exactly it is you want from us."

Kristoff leaned a little closer to Elsa and, out of the corner of his mouth, muttered, "I'm beginning to think that maybe we ought to just write all this down. It might save us time in the long run." Her only response, however, was to pin him with a what-are-you-waiting-for look, which convinced him to set his attempt at levity aside and grow serious. Clearing his throat, he proceeded to once again spin their long and complicated tale.

Grand Mahble was not the quiet, passive listener that Milda had been. She interrupted often to ask questions or to clarify some particular detail. Elsa chimed in here and there, helping to fill in gaps that Kristoff inadvertently missed. And this time, since they hoped they were talking to a new ally instead of a woman of dubious moral character like Milda, Elsa did not attempt to conceal the complete set of complications that had resulted from the head trauma she had received.

"Ah, now that makes sense," Rohl said when he finally learned about Elsa's missing magic. "When you were going on with Milda about all those powers you got from the Snow Queen, I wondered why you needed my help to escape."

"It's more than just that, though," Elsa admitted, a hint of despair creeping into her voice. "My magic was the only way we had to track the Snow Queen and our only hope of finding Anna again. Without it..." She lapsed into an anguished silence. Rohl looked at her curiously, then opened his mouth as if to say something. But before he could utter another word, Kristoff spoke instead.

"That's why we're here," he said to Grand Mahble. "Rohl said you're a skilled healer. I know I've seen Grand Pabbie do some incredible things with his magic. Like we told you, he was able to cure Anna after Elsa accidentally struck her in the head with her ice powers. If he could take magic out, then we were hoping that you might be able to help put it back in."

Grand Mahble considered them both, but Elsa in particular. Her face, though unavoidably stony, was no longer as stern as it had been earlier. After a few seconds of this quiet contemplation, she spoke.

"We know of the Snow Queen," she said. "We trolls have had dealings with her before, a long time ago. She came to us seeking help that we could not provide, and she was not pleased. Fortunately, we trolls are made of sturdy stuff and were able to survive her wrath, but in her anger, she wrought such destruction as none of our kind will ever soon forget. She is like a force of nature. You can try to weather it or you can try to run from it, but you cannot fight it, much less hope to stop it."

"I have no choice," Elsa pleaded. "She has my sister. I've got to try. If my powers came from her in the first place, then I might be the only one who can possibly defeat her, but without them, we don't stand a chance. So please, if there's anything you can do to help me get them back..."

Mahble crossed her arms and frowned. She possessed a most impressive glower, and she knew how to use it to good effect. It was in full force now, yet it seemed unable to intimidate Elsa in the slightest. She just stared back, though without any answering challenge in her eyes. All they held was a desperate hope. At last, Mahble sighed.

"It sounds like you got off lucky in that wreck. Could have been much worse, at any rate. If you'd broken any bones, you'd have been feeling them by now. Whatever bumps, bruises, and sore muscles you might have suffered, the hot springs should do wonders for them all. But that clout to your head..." She lifted one hand and motioned toward Elsa. "Come here," she said. "Let me have a look at you."

Elsa spared Kristoff a quick glance, then took two steps forward and knelt down before the wizened troll. She winced as unyielding fingers probed at the tender spot atop of her skull where her head had struck the log, as well as the second and more obvious wound that was still marked by a yellowish bruise near her temple. The examination did not take long, and when it was finished, Mahble clucked her tongue once and shook her head. "Barbarians," she grumbled. Then she looked up at Kristoff.

"I don't know what exactly you consider magic in this clan of yours, but I'm pretty sure I've never done anything of the sort. I suppose I do know a thing or two about dealing with injuries, though they've mostly been of the trollish variety. So I can't make any guarantees, but… I'll do what I can."

Her next words were addressed to Rohl. "I'll need my medicine bag," she said, "and a large basin of water from the spring." Rohl nodded, turned, and had already began to scurry off when Mahble called after him with one final instruction.

"Oh, and my hammer."

Elsa blanched, and once again gave Kristoff a concerned look. All he could offer her in return was a shrug of shared confusion and what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

Maybe ten minutes passed before Rohl returned, his arms wrapped around a sack that looked very much like the one in which he kept his various crystal implements. Another troll followed along behind him with a stone basin perched atop her head, her arms raised up to steady it. Both bag and basin were set on the dais next to Grand Mahble, who rose to her feet, flipped open the flap that had been covering the pouch, and began to rummage around inside.

Mumbling distractedly to herself, she withdrew a series of unusual items, examined each one carefully, then set it down on the ground next to her before plunging her hand into the sack again. There were clear vials in a range of sizes, inside which various liquids sloshed or oozed. There were bundles of dried leaves, folded or rolled and then tied together with a length of string. There were small boxes with hinged lids, which she would open and peer into before snapping them shut again and moving on.

And then there were crystals. It was one of these that finally put an end to her search, though as the troll held it close to her eye and examined it carefully, Elsa wondered if crystal was really the right word. It was milky white with perhaps just the faintest tinge of pink to it and, as far as Elsa could see, it lacked any faceting. In fact, it looked about as smooth as the stones she used to skip across the frozen fjord when she'd been young – pebbles whose sharp edges had all been worn off by the constant lapping of water along the shore during the warmer months.

Crystal or not, Grand Mahble appeared to be satisfied with its condition. Grasping it carefully between two thick fingers, she walked over to the broad stone bowl. Only then did she seem to realize that something was missing, and she shot Rohl an accusatory glare.

"You forgot the hammer," she said in irritation.

"Did not," he replied defensively, "but I've only got two hands, haven't I? Had to get help just to bring that basin back, didn't I?" Unslinging his own pack as he was talking, he reached in and pulled out what Elsa was decidedly relieved to see was a rather smallish hammer. Despite its size, though, she still remained somewhat apprehensive. She really couldn't see how a third knock to her head, however small, was going to undo the damage from the first two. She watched warily as Rohl handed the tool over.

Grand Mahble, gem in one hand and hammer in the other, favored Elsa with another long and indecipherable look. Then she again scrutinized the white jewel, turning it this way and that to examine it from all angles. She appeared to be looking for something – maybe a mark of some sort, though the stone seemed to be entirely unblemished to Elsa's eyes.

And then, with little to no warning, Grand Mahble held the gemstone out over the basin and, with great care and precision, tapped it soundly with a single blow of the hammer. Elsa gasped. What had been a whole, hard, and solid piece of brilliant stone just a moment earlier now crumbled instantly to dust and fell into the water below.

The surface began to foam and froth almost immediately. The bubbles, though tiny at first, did not stay that way for long. Instead of bursting asunder, each one appeared to simply merge with its neighbors so that, though the number of bubbles decreased, the size of those that remained steadily grew. And as they got bigger, it seemed as though their walls became thicker. The rate of mergers slowed, though without ever quite stopping, until eventually only two bubbles remained. After precariously sharing the bowl for an impossibly long time, even they finally collapsed together to form a single hemispherical bubble that completely covered the basin from edge to edge.

When Mahble tapped it with her hammer, it popped with a sound like the shattering of the thinnest glass imaginable.

She gestured for Elsa to lean in even closer. Then she poked a finger into the bowl. When she withdrew it, it came out covered in a thick goo roughly the consistency of paste. With her other hand, she turned Elsa's face to one side so that she could easily reach the ugly bruise left behind by Milda's blow. Reaching out, she brushed the white substance across the wound.

Elsa gasped again, though not from pain. Rather, it was the sudden sense of intense cold where the strange concoction touched her skin that startled her. It had been years upon years since she last remembered feeling cold, so that she'd very nearly forgotten the sensation. Still, there was no mistaking it as Mahble continued to spread the poultice. Without saying a word, the troll then grasped Elsa's chin, tilted her head downward, and began to press more of the substance through her hair and against the similarly aggrieved spot atop her skull. The cold spread outward from there as well.

It spread inward, too. She felt it not just on her skin, but in the muscles and tissue below. The effect even managed to penetrate her skull, and when it did, Elsa was gripped by a sudden and profound sense of relief. It was as though a chronic pain that had been with her for so long as to go almost unnoticed abruptly vanished. Or perhaps akin to having a persistently annoying noise that had been hovering just at the edge of hearing unexpectedly fall silent. She closed her eyes and took a long, sweet breath, luxuriating in both the peaceful sensation and the surprisingly pleasant odor of the balm.

The next instant, her eyes flew open. "Olaf!" she exclaimed. "Anna!" She sprang to her feet so quickly, she nearly sent Grand Mahble toppling over into the cistern. Grabbing Kristoff by the arms, she beamed broadly at him. "I can feel it, Kristoff! I can feel my magic again! I know where they are. And Kristoff, they're close! Closer than they've ever been since we left Arendelle. And I don't think they're moving, either. They must have finally reached the Snow Queen's palace. Oh, Kristoff! We're almost there. We're finally going to save Anna! Come on! We need to get going."

"Whoa, slow down there, scrappy." Kristoff just managed to snag Elsa's wrist as she tried to hurry back the way they'd come, her mind obviously full of one thing and one thing only. "Not so fast. We can't just go charging off completely unprepared."

"We've had weeks to prepare," she protested. "What else have we been doing this whole time we've been chasing them? What more do you think we can do now that we haven't already done?"

Kristoff bit back his first reply. Mahble's ministrations might have rejuvenated Elsa, but speaking solely for himself, he was still bone weary and sore all over. Between the crash and the rough ride from the robber's hideout, there were very few of his muscles that weren't aching painfully at that moment. Privately, he'd been looking forward to spending at least a little time submerged in the hot spring. He'd been hoping that, by the time they had to leave again, the waters would have helped to bring him back to his full strength. He was certainly going to need it for the confrontation ahead, after all. Yet somehow, with Anna's safety in the balance, asking for a delay to indulge in a relaxing soak didn't seem appropriate.

"You've just barely recovered," he said instead. "If we're about to face the Snow Queen, you're going to need to be one hundred percent. Sure, you can feel your magic, but you haven't even tried to use it yet. Who knows what else might still be wrong?"

"Well then, let's find out." Yanking her arm free of his grip, she spun away and marched off toward the hot spring.

"Don't freeze it!" Kristoff warned in an exasperated tone as he strode quickly after her. Rohl glanced anxiously at Mahble, then followed as well.

"Magic," Grand Mahble snorted. Despite the protests of age-stiffened joints, she dropped down off the stone slab. "Might be the single biggest problem in this entire world, except for all the others." She trundled off toward the spring, wondering if her first instincts upon the strangers' arrival hadn't been right after all.

She found Elsa, Kristoff, and Rohl standing alone near the edge of the pool. The other trolls had cleared out of the way, giving the humans a wide berth. They clustered together along the edges of a broad circle that was roughly centered around Elsa. The water itself had been emptied of all bathers and waders. Elsa's eyes were closed, her breathing slow and steady, arms hanging loosely at her sides. It almost looked like she was meditating. Beside her, Kristoff frowned, unsure if this was really the best idea, yet unwilling to interrupt her concentration for fear of making matters worse. The only sound was the gurgling of the water as it bubbled up from its underground aquifer.

Then, in a surprisingly undramatic gesture, Elsa raised one hand.

Along the far edge of the pool, a gently curved sheet of water rose up into the air, freezing immediately into solid ice. It continued to climb higher and higher, bending away from the onlookers. Soon, the sheet split into half a dozen separate channels, each of which began to slowly twist and turn as it reached skyward. The various forks curved back around so that, in a matter of moments, they passed over the heads of trolls and humans alike. Some extended all the way to the cliff face. Others descended in stair-step fashion to the floor of the grotto. When the last one reached rock and the sparkle of its magical growth faded away, Elsa lowered her hand and expelled the lungful of air she'd slowly drawn in throughout the entire endeavor. The warm water of the spring continued to burble away, oblivious to all that had happened.

It was strange, Kristoff thought as he gazed up with professional appreciation at the flawless ice construct. There had been no sound from the trolls before Elsa had begun, and there was still none now. Yet somehow, the quality of the silence had changed. Whereas before the air had been thick with fear and mistrust, it now held a sense of awe and wonder. The sensation was unmistakable. He had felt it himself the first time he'd laid eyes on Elsa's ice palace.

The silence was broken by the sound of a mother's anxious voice. "Gemma, what on earth are you doing? Get down from there at once!"

Everyone looked up to see a young trolling who had wasted no time whatsoever climbing the stairs to the top of one of the frozen concourses. She stood there now, at the exact point where the steps stopped and turned into a track of perfectly smooth ice that descended all the way to the pool below.

"Okay, Mama!" Gemma said brightly. Then, to the surprise of the adults and the delight of the children, she dropped onto her round bottom and pushed off, curling into a ball and rolling with increasing speed down the long and twisting chute. Her squeal of excitement was caught by the grotto, then echoed back at least three times louder. It only stopped when she reached the end of the curving slide and dropped into the water with a tremendous splash.

Her head broke the surface of the pool, followed immediately by a ringing peal of laughter. Two seconds later, there was a scrum at the base of each icy stairway as all of the trollings – and a few of their elders – sought to follow in her footsteps.

Elsa turned to Kristoff, her expression betraying only the slightest hint of smugness. "Can we go now?"

They both looked down as, before the ice harvester could answer, another voice interrupted. "I'm going with you, too." Rohl stood there, arms stubbornly crossed, and stared up at them as if daring either one to argue the point.

"Ahem." All three turned to see Grand Mahble, who had switched her glower back on and whose arms were crossed every bit as stubbornly. Faced with that imposing figure, Rohl's arms dropped to his side before rising again in a placating gesture.

"Gran, I have to go. Don't you see? They're my friends, and they're going to need all the help they can get."

"Mm-hmm. And what good are you going to be against something like this?" Mahble indicated Elsa's magical creation with a jerk of her head.

"I don't know. But I helped them once already, and who could have seen that coming? Besides, isn't it a scout's job to help keep the clan safe from danger? If the Snow Queen isn't dangerous then I don't know what is. And since Kristoff here was raised by trolls, then… well… then I'd say that makes him a distant relative at least. Surely, we have an obligation to help one of our own."

One corner of Mahble's scowl twitched fractionally upward. Then she shook her head. "I never have problems like this with any of the other scouts. Can't say for certain whether that's a good thing or not. Still, might be best for you to make yourself scarce for a while before you go rubbing off on them and giving them all ideas. At least it'd give me time to figure out how I'm going to deal with a dozen more like you."

Rohl grinned, then looked back up at Elsa and Kristoff. "Well, that's settled then. When do we leave?"

"We still don't have any food," Kristoff pointed out.

"Not a problem." Mahble clapped her hands and motioned to a couple of nearby trolls, who promptly scurried off to whatever served as the clan's larder. They returned just a few minutes later, supporting an almost comically large covered basket between them. "Hopefully this will be enough. And if you all manage to survive this crazy mission of yours, then when you bring Rohl back, I think we ought to be able to spare enough to see the rest of you well on your way."

"Thank you," replied Elsa earnestly. "And not just for the food, but for everything you've done. All of Arendelle owes you a great debt."

Grand Mahble waved such talk away. "We don't want it. Don't need a whole kingdom knowing that we even exist in the first place. You just keep mum about ever having been here or seen us, and we'll call it even."

Rohl looked shocked by this pronouncement. "Shouldn't we at least let them tell the other trolls? I mean, we never heard any news about all the clans that traveled south ages ago. We all figured they hadn't made it. Wouldn't it be good for us all to establish relations again?"

Mahble did an even worse job of concealing her smile this time. "I'll think about it," she said.

"Well then, we'd better be going," Elsa declared. "After all, we've kept Anna and Olaf waiting long enough already. Come on, Rohl."

Kristoff allowed himself one last, longing look at the spring's inviting waters. Then he took the basket of food, hefted it in his arms, nodded his own thanks to the trolls, and headed off after his friends. As they reached the edge of the troll village, he stopped and peered over his burden.

"Hey, where's Sven?" he asked. Then he called out, "Sven! Sven, where are you, buddy?"

A muffled honking noise pulled his attention around to the direction from which they'd just come. Had his hands been free, one of them would almost certainly have smacked into his forehead. "Elsa," he said loudly over his shoulder. "A little help here?"

"What is it?" she asked, backtracking and peering around him. He heard her stifle a laugh. "Oh, Sven..."

The reindeer was standing right at the bottom of the ice chute. Trollings reaching the end of their descent were popping out of their boulder forms a few seconds early, then leaping up, grabbing one of his antlers, and spinning through the air to add an extra bit of flourish to their entry into the pool. But Sven wasn't maintaining his position just to amuse the children.

He tried to twist around to look back at them apologetically. His attempts were hampered, however, by the fact that the tip of his tongue was stuck to the side of the slide.

Elsa flicked a finger, causing a thin layer of ice to discretely evaporate and Sven's tongue to snap back into his mouth. Giddy with relief, the reindeer bounded back along the edge of the pool to rejoin his comrades. Seeing Kristoff's displeasure as he approached, though, his long face grew slightly longer, so that by the time he'd reached them, his head was drooping in a dispirited sort of way.

"I'm sorry, Kristoff," said Kristoff in his Sven voice. "I'm a bad reindeer. I promised I wouldn't lick Elsa's ice again, but I just can't help myself. It looks so good..."

"Yeah well, I would have left you there a while longer to finally teach you a lesson, but we don't have time right now. We have to get going. Elsa knows where Anna and Olaf are, and she says they're close. So are you ready to get back to work?"

At the sound of his friends' names, Sven had lifted his head and perked up his ears. Now his entire demeanor changed again, back to the same excitement he had shown upon his release. Without waiting, he galloped on ahead to where they'd left the sled, passing Elsa and Rohl on his way so that he was already in position, waiting for them all when they finally arrived.

With a grunt, Kristoff heaved the basket into the rear of the sleigh and pushed it as far forward as it would go. Then he gazed disconsolately at the missing tailgate and the fractured seat brace. His buttocks twinged at the prospect of another uncomfortably bouncy ride. But this was for Anna, so he would endure whatever needed to be endured. After all, Elsa had climbed up onto the driver's bench this time too, as though moving that short distance forward meant she would get to her sister that much faster.

Even so, as he walked past on his way to hitch up Sven, Kristoff glanced back at the cargo compartment. "I just hope all our food doesn't tumble out the back before we get a chance to eat any of it," he grumbled quietly.

Elsa didn't even turn around. She simply raised one arm and twirled her wrist. The next thing Kristoff knew, the dark gray and rich browns of the sled had almost entirely vanished. Instead, apart from the runners and the seat itself, the entire thing was now completely covered with a blue-white sheen. A new tailgate had miraculously appeared, along with restraints to hold the basket firmly in place. Even the right side of the bench was fastened as securely to the frame as it ever had been before the wreck.

He gave Elsa a look that managed to say both, "Thank you," and, "Show-off." Then he continued forward to finish the harnessing. Despite his aches and his grumbling, he really was as eager as the rest of them to be getting on their way.

• • •

"Are you sure your magic's working properly?"

Kristoff had to shout to make himself heard above the howling wind that was driving stinging snow into their faces. A storm had blown up while they'd been sheltered in the lee of the troll's escarpment, but there was nothing much to protect them here on the flat, open ground beyond. Elsa had, for a while, attempted to direct the snow around them, but they had both eventually agreed that it wasn't worth the effort. She could do nothing about the biting wind itself, which was worse than the snow it carried. Nor could the bubble of protection she had offered extend far enough out to really do much to improve visibility.

The storm had completely blotted out the stars. Only the diffuse glow through the clouds of a mercifully full moon gave them any light at all, so Kristoff had to rely on his own internal sense of direction to guide them. To that end, Rohl's presence had already proven invaluable. Thanks to his many explorations, the troll knew the land by heart for miles around. He'd been able to help them avoid accidentally plowing into buried fissures or other hidden obstacles that could have proved troublesome if not downright fatal. Even so, Kristoff was increasingly feeling that they would have been better served by spending the night back at the grotto instead of trying to make their way through this mess in the dark. It wouldn't do Anna any good if they got themselves lost or buried alive before they could even reach her.

"I'm sure," Elsa yelled back. "We're really close! I can feel it! We should be almost there!"

Kristoff raised a mittened hand to his eyes and tried to squint through the snow to make out anything other than a featureless expanse of white. Poor visibility or not, he couldn't help but think that an immense palace like the one Gerda had described to them ought to be visible by now if they really were as close to it as Elsa claimed they were. Yet between the swirling flakes, all he saw was the black of night in every direction.

"To the right!" Elsa shouted again. "Turn a few degrees to the right!"

With a tug on the reins, he conveyed her instructions to Sven, who obliged as best as the thick powder on the ground would let him. Knowing full well that Elsa had ordered the course correction due to a sense that he himself simply did not possess, Kristoff nevertheless tried harder than ever to pierce the veil ahead in hopes of spotting some sign of their goal, whatever it might look like.

"Slow down! We're almost right on top of it!"

Having no choice but to put his faith in Elsa's magical connection to her creations, Kristoff complied. Sven, whose pace had already been reduced to barely a trot by the abysmal weather, now dropped down to an even slower walk. Braving the buffeting wind, Kristoff rose from from his seat and leaned forward against the dash panel, staring at where the horizon ought to be for any sign of the huge and imposing walls of the Snow Queen's fortress.

"Stop! Stop!" Before Kristoff had even had time to register her command, Elsa had leaped from the sled and was running forward through the snow.

No, some part of him thought as he hauled back on the reins one more time. Not through the snow. Over it! Elsa's feet barely left any impression at all behind her. Maybe it had been packed down and hardened more than he would have expected. He was familiar enough with the types of snowstorms that one could expect to encounter in the mountains around Arendelle, but this far north, maybe things behaved a little differently.

So it was that Kristoff stepped off the floorboards of the sleigh expecting to place his weight onto a mostly solid surface that had been hard-packed almost to ice. He swore loudly when his left leg disappeared nearly up to his knee, causing him to overbalance and topple face first into the fresh powder. The trollish profanity was quickly muffled behind a mouthful of snow.

Grabbing onto the sleigh and using it to haul himself back to his feet, he spat out the snow and tried somewhat futilely to wipe off his face with thoroughly sodden gloves. Turning to Rohl, who had been sitting on the bench between him and Elsa, he cautioned, "Better stay here! You drop to the bottom of this and we might never find you!" Then he slogged off past Sven and into the darkness that had swallowed Elsa, hoping fervently that he wouldn't lose his way in the blizzard himself. If he did, none of them might see each other ever again.

Fortunately, he didn't have far to go. He found Elsa just as the sled vanished from sight behind him. But what he saw then made his heart leap into his throat and the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Elsa had fallen to her knees, her face buried in her hands and her shoulders shaking with unheard sobs. Beside her in the nearly whiteout conditions, there was a denser, more solid mass of white. Not wanting to believe what he was seeing, Kristoff pushed forward, hoping that he would discover that his eyes were only playing tricks on him or that he was somehow managing to misinterpret the entire scene.

As he drew closer, he realized with a sickening feeling that neither of those possibilities was true.

Olaf stood beside Elsa, one hand resting on her shoulder in a completely inadequate attempt to console her. His face, usually given over to broad smiles and merry laughter, was now as downcast as ever it had been. He looked up as Kristoff stopped a single pace away. And it might only have been his imagination – it might have been an illusion caused by the falling snow and the poor light – yet whatever the reason, Kristoff would have sworn that the snowman's cheeks glistened wetly.

"Anna," Olaf said, though Kristoff had to rely on reading the shape of the snowman's mouth more than hearing his words above the raging gale. "Anna, she… she threw me out."