Lady in White: Legacy

Chapter Eighteen

Convening

"You don't have to do this by yourself, Elsa! Come back to Arendelle with me. Please!"

"How can you say that? What power do you have to stop this winter I've created? To stop me from making it worse?!"

"I don't know! I just . . . I just know if we do it together, we can make things right!"

"Stop it, Anna! Just . . . Just stop! You're making it . . . I can't . . . I can't stop myself from—"

"Yes, you can! I believe in you, Elsa!"

"Why?! What reason do you have to believe in me at all? No matter what I do, no matter how much I try, all I ever do is hurt you! Please, Anna. Leave now. Leave, and never come back!"

"I won't, Elsa! You can't . . . You can't make me—"

"You're upsetting me, Anna! And when I get upset, I can't control it—"

"I'm not leaving without you, Elsa!"

"Anna, STOP . . .!"

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

2:23 a.m.

"Elsa!"

Anna shot up, eyes wide, heart pounding furiously within her breast, her breathing ragged. Confused, she looked around, her mind finally recognizing where she was. She was in Kristoff's cabin, her exhausted form sprawled across the woodsman's couch. Groaning, she forced herself to breathe, to calm herself, the dream she had been having slowly fading from her mind. It was only a dream, she told herself as she felt her heart rate return to normal. Just a dream. Nothing more.

Then why, a small voice inside her mind queried. Why did it feel so real? And why do you feel such pain and coldness in your heart?

"Shut up," the young woman muttered, not certain to whom, precisely, she was addressing the command. Her hand came to rest above her heart involuntarily, the sense of frigidity that had awoken her slowly fading away into nothingness. She rested her brow against the palms of her hands. It was just a dream. You're just upset because Elsa's been taken away, that's all. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

Then, the voice in her mind countered. Why did it feel like it actually happened?

Anna retrieved her phone from her pocket, the light from the device illuminating the darkened cabin. She frowned as she saw the time. Two twenty-three. She glanced toward the cabin door. I would have thought Kristoff would have been back by now.

A loud growling sound filled the cabin. Anna glanced downward, her cheeks turning slightly red as she realized the sound had been the rumbling of her own stomach. The young woman suddenly realized she had not eaten since breakfast that morning. Rising, she made her way toward Kristoff's kitchen, if "kitchen" was, in fact, the correct word for the cluttered mass of cupboards and foodstuffs strewn about. She held her phone before her, using the glow from its screen to give her enough light to rummage through the supplies her host had on hand. Her heart sank as she saw the meager offerings before her. If I have to eat one more of his protein bars, I'm going to—

Her stomach growled again, louder this time. Anna sighed, her gaze turning toward the stairway leading to the cellar. "Maybe there's something down there," she muttered.

Anna's gaze fell upon the stuffed reindeer staring at her from the small table by the couch. "He won't mind if I poke around there, will he, Sven?"

The toy stared back at her, unresponsive. The young woman smiled. "That's what I thought."

Anna turned on her phone's flashlight, carefully making her way down the stairs to the cellar. The underground storage space seemed smaller than she remembered from her last visit down there the preceding Friday. Carefully, she stepped toward the wall, her eyes roaming the shelves, searching for anything edible.

"Let's see," she muttered. "Beer. Schnapps. Beer. Potatoes." Her face wrinkled as she examined the bag of vegetables more closely. "Make that 'moldy potatoes.'" She sighed as she continued down the shelf. "Bread. Schnapps. Aha!"

Her eyes lit up as she found a large jar of still-sealed peanut butter. She turned her attention back to the loaf of bread. Satisfied that the bread was perfectly safe to eat, she ripped the seal off the jar of peanut butter and dipped a slice of bread into it. "Oh, yes!" she murmured as she chewed, certain in that moment that this was the most delicious meal she had ever eaten. "I will never," she said to herself as she dipped another slice of bread into the jar, "knock peanut butter ever again . . ."

Her voice trailed off as something in the corner of her vision caught her attention. Stuffing the second slice of bread into her mouth, she held her phone before her, the light from the flashlight illuminating the darkened cellar. She moved forward cautiously, uncertain of just what it was that had drawn her attention.

She inhaled, nearly choking on her food, as she realized what she was looking at. Against the far wall of the cellar rested a large painting, nearly as tall as she was. Anna blinked. It seemed out of place down here, she considered, given what she knew of Kristoff's relative lack of interest in the finer things in life. Swallowing, Anna took three additional steps forward, her eyes widening as she beheld the artwork.

It was a portrait of Elsa. The Lady in White was dressed not in white, but rather in a shimmering dress of blue, the same shade of blue, Anna realized, that formed at Elsa's fingertips whenever she summoned her ice and snow. The Elsa in the painting was smiling broadly, looking happier than Anna had seen her in the short time they had known one another. The young woman reached out her hand to touch the painting, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the painted Elsa's cheek. Anna felt liquid threatening to spill from her eyes as she looked into the painted woman's ice blue eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Elsa," Anna whispered, her lip trembling. "This is all my fault! You should have stayed in your forest. You would have been safe. I . . . I don't know what they're doing to you now, but I . . . I'm going to get you back somehow. I promise . . ."

Anna's voice faded away as she saw that the painted Elsa's arm was tightly wrapped around someone else's waist. Just who that person was Anna could not tell, as a long, heavy sheet was draped over the top of that portion of the painting, covering the mystery figure's features. Anna's brow furrowed as she leaned forward, her hand taking hold of the sheet. As her fingers made contact with the sheet, her mind suddenly took her somewhere else entirely . . .

"Hold still, Anna!"

Anna blinked as she stared at Elsa, arms folded in mock indignation. "Me? You're the one who's moving around, thank you very much. I am being a perfect lady over here."

"Oh, really?" Elsa raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose that's why you keep fidgeting every time Armand here tries to get to work."

Anna rolled her eyes as the painter nodded in assent at Elsa's words. "I hate posing for paintings," she muttered. "It's so boring and . . . and time consuming!"

"Oh, come on," Elsa said. "You've been telling me for the past three months how much you enjoy spending time with me."

"Doing stuff," Anna grumbled. "Not just standing here."

A hurt expression formed on Elsa's face. "Do . . . Do you really hate it that much?"

Anna grimaced as she realized what she had done. "No! Of course not! I just . . . It's fine!"

Elsa was wringing her hands now, a signal, Anna had learned over the past three months, that her anxiety was threatening to overtake her again. "You hate it." She turned away. "This was a bad idea."

Anna sighed. "No. No, it isn't." She put her hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Really."

Elsa refused to meet her gaze. "I . . . I just wanted to have something that would make this last forever. What we have now, I mean. The two of us . . . Together." She turned to face Anna, her expression now as melancholic as Anna had ever seen it. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I . . . I shouldn't have assumed . . . I mean, after how I've treated you all these years—"

"Stop."

Anna brought a finger to her older sister's lips. "We've been over this already. Remember? Water under the bridge. Remember?"

The queen of Arendelle nodded silently. Anna smiled. "It's very thoughtful of you. Wanting a painting of us, I mean." She turned back toward the artist. "All right, Armand. Get to work now."

"Anna?" Elsa looked at the princess uncertainly. "Are . . . Are you sure this is all right?"

Anna responded by taking hold of Elsa's hand, squeezing it gently, welcoming the coolness of her older sister's touch. "Oh, yeah," she said, wrapping Elsa's hand around her waist, standing shoulder to shoulder with the queen. "Not a problem."

"Thank you," Elsa said. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. "Because I already asked Armand if he could do paintings of us in five other poses and—"

"What?! Oh, come on!"

Elsa grimaced as Anna pinched her wrist. "Just kidding! Just kidding!"

As Armand began sketching on the canvas before him, Anna shot a quick glance back at Elsa. "You know I'm never going to leave you, right? That no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you. You don't have to worry about that. Ever."

Elsa tightened her grip on Anna's waist. "Promise?" she whispered.

Anna responded by squeezing Elsa's hand tightly. "Promise . . ."

"Anna!"

Anna blinked, her attention suddenly drawn back her present surroundings as she heard the door upstairs open and close. "Anna? You all right?"

Anna pulled her hand back from the sheet, the fabric still draped over the second figure in the portrait, no time available for her to dwell upon her unexpected reverie. The young woman raced up the stairs to the main living area of the cabin. "I'm here," she said. "Sorry, but I was hungry, and you didn't have anything up here that looked particularly good to eat."

Kristoff shook his head, laughing, as he turned on the cabin lights. "My sincerest apologies," he said. "I'll be sure to have you make the grocery list the next time I go into town for supplies."

Anna looked at him, expectantly. "Did . . . I mean, were you able to get whatever you needed to—"

As if on cue, Stephenson walked through the door. "Whoa! Nice place you have here, bro." He immediately plopped himself down on the couch. "Seriously, I could get used to this."

Anna looked at Kristoff. "What . . . What is he doing here? How is some pothead camera guy going to help us get Elsa back?"

Stephenson looked up from the marijuana cigarette he was in the process of lighting. "I heard that."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Good for you." She turned her attention back to Kristoff. "Please tell me you have a plan."

"Yep." The woodsman walked back to the doorway. "Now, I have a surprise for you, but you have to promise me something before I bring it in here."

Anna rubbed her eyes. "I'm too tired for riddles right now, Mr. Bjorgman," she said. "What is it?"

Kristoff folded his arms. "First, you have to promise me you won't get upset."

The young woman looked at him in confusion. "Fine. Whatever. Just bring it in here."

Kristoff looked her straight in the eyes. "Remember: You promised." He exited the cabin, leaving the doorway open behind him. Anna frowned as she heard what sounded like scuffling feet outside the cabin. Before she could investigate, Kristoff reentered the cabin. "Here you go."

Anna's cheeks turned red, her face twisted in fury. "You!" she screamed.

Chancellor Isaacson, still bound hand and foot, looked at Kristoff, a panicked expression upon his face. The next thing he knew, Anna had grabbed hold of his jacket lapels. With a shove, the young woman forced Isaacson onto the couch next to Stephenson, knocking the cigarette from the student's mouth. "Seriously, dude?" Stephenson complained. "I just, like, rolled that—"

"Shut up!" Anna snapped. She ripped the duct tape of Isaacson's mouth, taking a great deal of pleasure at the screams of pain emanating from the chancellor's throat. "What is he doing here?!" Anna shouted at Kristoff. "Why did you bring him?"

Isaacson swallowed. "If . . . If I may, Miss . . . Reinhart, is it?"

Anna was livid now. "How dare you?!" she screamed. "This is all your fault! If it weren't for you, Elsa wouldn't be . . . And Dr. Andersen would be . . ." Her hands were shaking now, she realized. Liquid was flowing from her eyes as well, and she hated it. With a scream of rage, she turned back toward Kristoff. "Why. Is. He. Here?!"

"If I may," Isaacson offered. "I would like the answer to that question as well—"

Kristoff placed his hands gently but firmly on Anna's shoulders before the young woman could react to Isaacson's words. "Anna, calm down. I need you to trust me on this, okay? There's a plan, I promise. I'll explain in a little bit, but you need to promise me you aren't going to seriously injure the people I've brought here. Okay?"

Anna blinked, willing herself to calm down. "So. You have a plan. Do you mind explaining what it is?"

From the couch, Stephenson's giggle filled the air. "I know the plan, 'Anna Reinhart,'" he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "At least my part in it."

Anna felt her fingers on both hands curling into fists. "Great. Wonderful." She sighed. "Do you mind filling me in on this brilliant plan of yours—"

Her words were cut off by the sound of something loud approaching the cabin. Anna recognized the sound in an instant. "It's the military!" she whispered. "They've found us!"

"Not likely," Kristoff responded, glancing at his watch. "Good. Right on time."

Kristoff exited the cabin, Anna hot on his heels. Her eyes widened as, through the dark of night, she saw a helicopter some thirty yards from the cabin, the low rumble of its propeller slowly receding into nothingness as its pilot powered down the aircraft.

"What's this?" Anna asked as she and Kristoff approached the now-silent chopper. "A friend of yours?"

Kristoff nodded, his face visible only due to the lights still radiating from the helicopter. "You could say that. Just let me do the talking. He's a little paranoid—"

The helicopter door opened. A figure emerged, arms outstretched. "Bjorgman!"

Kristoff stepped forward, arms clasping the new arrival in a long, tight hug. "Ah, Ry! So good to see you again. Thanks for coming on such short notice."

The man released himself from Kristoff's embrace. Anna squinted, trying her best to make out the man's features in the dim light of the helicopter's landing lights. The man was about the same age as Kristoff, perhaps a few years younger, Anna reckoned. His shaggy brown hair surrounded a face that seemed the color of coffee with too much cream added to it. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cargo pants, a large backpack slung about his shoulders.

The man gestured toward the helicopter. "You can do the heavy lifting, Bjorgman," he said, laughing. "Everything you asked for is in there." He gestured toward three very large, very heavy looking suitcases resting behind the pilot seat. "Everything and then some."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "'And then some'?"

The man laughed again. "Yeah. I just threw together everything I thought you might need, even things you didn't ask for. You know what they say . . ."

His words faded away as he suddenly realized Anna was standing just behind Kristoff. "Who's your lady friend, Bjorgman?" he asked. "And more importantly, why is she with you in the first place? Don't tell me her standards are that low—"

"Stop it," Kristoff said. "You're embarrassing yourself."

Anna glanced at Kristoff. "Does your friend have a name?"

The man straightened up, running a hand through his hair. "Ryder. And you are?"

Anna looked at the man. "So it's just 'Ryder,' huh?"

"Yep," Ryder responded. "In my line of work, I find it best if my clients and I, ah, don't get too closely acquainted. Too many bad things can happen, if you know what I mean."

The young woman shook Ryder's outstretched hand wearily. "Fine. I'm Anna. Anna Reinhart."

Ryder smiled broadly. "Pleasure to meet you, Anna."

Anna pulled her arm back before Ryder could kiss it.

"Ry," Kristoff said, picking up two of the suitcases. "Inside. And behave."

The man shrugged innocently. "When has that ever been a concern?"

"Since I've known you," Kristoff responded. He gestured toward the cabin with his head. "Inside. We've got work to do."

"All right, all right," Ryder said, making his way toward the cabin. "I expect two beers for my trouble . . ."

"Who is this guy?" Anna whispered once Ryder was safely out of earshot. "He seems . . . I don't know, untrustworthy."

Kristoff sighed. "Ry and I go way back. He and I grew up together. He's one of the last of the Northuldra, after all—"

"What?!" Anna glared at Kristoff, her voice still a whisper. "You said the Northuldra all died of a plague a long time ago!"

Kristoff shrugged. "No. What I said was that my grandfather told me his grandfather told him they had all died. Which is true. It's just that my grandfather's grandfather was . . . misinformed. Most of them did die of the plague, yes. But there was a handful that survived that retreated deeper into the forest to try to preserve their culture." He sighed. "Hopefully, Ry decides to settle down at some point, or there really won't be much likelihood of the Northuldra line continuing."

Anna opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. After several long moments of silence, she spoke. "Fine. You had your reasons to not tell me the whole truth before. I get it. But you need to fix that habit right now, Mr. Bjorgman, you got it? No more secrets or parsing the truth, understand?"

"Fair enough."

Anna turned toward the large suitcase still inside the helicopter. "So, what is he? An arms dealer or something like that?"

Kristoff laughed. "Something like that. Let's just say Ry has established himself as the premier supplier of surplus U.S. military equipment in this part of Europe."

Anna frowned. "And I'm sure it's all perfectly legal and legitimate, right?"

Kristoff sighed. "Look, Anna. With what we're going up against to get Elsa back, we're going to have to do some things that are most certainly not legal. If that's a problem for you—"

"It isn't." Anna's response was instantaneous. She turned back to face Kristoff. "So, what are we waiting for? Let's get inside and here this great plan you've worked up."

The woodsman smiled. "That's the spirit." He picked up the two suitcases at his side, turning to walk toward the cabin. "Do you mind grabbing that last one for me? Thanks so much!"

Anna opened her mouth to protest, but Kristoff was already ten paces away, whistling loudly. Sighing, the young woman reached into the helicopter, taking hold of the suitcase. "This can't be too bad, right? I mean, how heavy can it . . ." She pulled on the suitcase with all her might. "Come on, come on, come on, come on!"

Exhausted, panting, Anna felt her heart sink as she realized the suitcase hadn't moved an inch.

"Come on, AH-na!" she heard Kristoff yell from the cabin door. "What's taking so long?"

Perfect. Just perfect . . .

AN: Thank you to all who have left such courteous feedback on past chapters. It is very much appreciated, believe me. More to come!