Growing Together Chapter 7

Elsa was left inside a heavy leather tent full of food and other supplies. She knew there were at least two guards outside, and there were probably more – if this Princess thought Elsa had special powers, she'd take plenty of precautions to keep her royal prisoner on ice.

How could she escape? If her husband was here with her, he'd surely have a wonderful idea to get them out of here and back home safely. But that was half the problem – he was up to his neck in icy water, and she couldn't hear his escape plan until she escaped and set him free. She'd have to work this one out on her own. At least she had some time to think it over. As long as Urraca thought Anders was in her power, both of them were safe.

What would Anna suggest, if she was here? She'd probably say, "Let it go." That was probably good advice, but how should she do it? For a moment, she considered the direct approach – flying icicles to take out the guards – but she wasn't desperate enough to kill. Not yet. Besides, she'd have to take out every soldier in the camp once they saw her running away.

Saw her. They can't do much to me if they can't see me. That was the answer! Or was it? Would she be playing into Urraca's hands somehow? No, she thinks I'm the Bringer of Summer, she decided. She doesn't know about winter; she has no idea what I can really do. She's about to find out.

First, she had to free her hands, which were tied behind her back. She focused on the rope, willing it to become cold, then colder. It eventually froze and turned brittle; it cracked and broke when she flexed her wrists. She rubbed the circulation back into her hands, then considered her next move.

She gathered her thoughts, then flung her arms up over her head. Outside the tent, she could hear the wind rising. The sides of the tent shook as strong gusts hit them. She couldn't see the snowflakes swirling in that wind, but she knew they were there, and they were getting thicker by the moment. But she'd need more than just a snowstorm. If she was going to get out of here and rescue her husband, she'd need a howling blizzard, a storm severe enough that it could kill. She'd made a storm like that only once, and it hadn't been deliberate that time. How could she recreate the terror that had led her to unleash that violent storm on Arendelle, on the awful day when she'd been imprisoned and tried to flee?

She had spent all her life trying to keep her powers under control. For years, she had failed. Recently, with the help of Anna and Anders, she had finally begun to succeed. Now, she had to undo all those years of progress and let her powers rage uncontrolled. Nothing else could create the storm she needed. That meant she had to let herself feel fear.

She tried to imagine herself tied to a stake, facing a firing squad of Spanish crossbowmen ready to kill her at Urraca's command. The wind outside was blowing harder.

She imagined Anders tied to a stake next to her. The wind found its way under the edges of the tent and began swirling snow around inside.

She imagined Anna tied to a stake on the other side of her. A hurricane-blast of wind ripped the tent's stakes out of the ground and carried it away, a flapping tangle that was quickly lost in the storm. The supplies inside it were scattered across the landscape, and Elsa was almost knocked off her feet. She was stunned at the effects her fear was having on the weather; that caused more fear, and the storm got even worse. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But it seemed to be working. There was no sign of the guards; they had obviously taken cover.

Now she had to find the pond where the Spaniards had sunk Anders, so she could set him free. That was going to be a problem – she couldn't see more than forty feet in any direction due to the wind-blown snow, and she had no idea where the pond was. She hadn't seen any pond when they were brought into the camp from the western side, so it must be somewhere on the eastern side. Which way was east? She had no way of telling directions; it was nighttime, and thanks to her own strategy, the stars were invisible. Her best guess was to assume that the storm winds were blowing the same way most Norwegian storms blew, from out of the west, so she should make her way downwind. It was hard. Her own winds threatened to knock her over with each step. At least she didn't have to face into the wind and deal with the flying snow in her eyes.

She nearly stepped into the pond before she saw it. "Anders!" she shouted. He might have replied, but she'd never hear his voice in this storm. Would she be able to see him with all these snowflakes filling the air? If he was too far out in the pond, he might as well be invisible to her. She followed the shoreline, straining her eyes to find some sign of – there!

His head was about twenty feet from shore. She couldn't think of any way to get to him except to go wading. So much for royal dignity, she thought as she gathered her skirt and stepped into the chilly water. At least the "chilly" part didn't bother her. The bottom was muddy and threatened to pull her shoes off with every step. He was facing away from the wind, which meant he was facing away from her. She waded out until the water was level with her mouth – she didn't dare go any deeper – and reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. He nearly leaped out of the water, he was so startled.

"Elsa!" he exclaimed. "Did you make this storm?" She nodded reluctantly. "Wow! Remind me never to get you mad at me."

"I can't imagine you ever making me as mad as that princess did," Elsa answered. "How am I going to get you out of here?"

"Could you start by cutting the ropes around my hands? They're kind of tight." She raised one hand; the flying snowflakes around her congealed and froze into a small knife with a serrated edge. Working by feel, she sawed at the ropes around Anders' wrists until they parted. As soon as his hands were free, he turned himself around and flung his arms around her. She returned his embrace. The storm began fading almost immediately.

"I was really afraid for you," he whispered. "I know that princess means to kill us both if we let her."

"You were almost drowning, and you were only worried about me?" she marveled. "You stubborn, irrational, wonderful man!" She still wasn't used to how selfless he could be when she was involved, even though she'd seen plenty of proof that his concern about her was unfeigned. When they finally let each other go, she asked, "Now what?"

"Give me the knife," he said. "I can cut the rope off my feet, and then we can get out of here." She handed it to him; he took a deep breath, ducked under the water, and finally bobbed to the surface after about fifteen seconds. "That's one seriously sharp knife," he commented. "If you ever lose your job as queen, I bet you could make a living selling knives."

"Anders, this is one of those moments where I almost wish I could lose my job," she said heartily. "Not only has this princess of España put a death sentence on me because I'm the queen of Arendelle; I've somehow got to figure out how to stop her and Stavanger from invading my homeland when we don't have an army. I could really enjoy being a commoner right about now. Commoners have it easy – they just do what they're told, and they don't have the burden of an entire kingdom on their shoulders."

"But remember, my love," he said as he rested his hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to carry that burden alone."

She gave him another impulsive hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Anders. But... what are we going to do?"

"First, we have to get out of this pond and out of this army camp while the storm is still raging," he told her. "Then we'll work on a master plan. Don't give yourself a headache trying to figure it all out by yourself. Getting the headaches is my job. Now, let's get out of here!" She nodded firmly. They waded out of the pond and set out across the snow-swept, wind-battered landscape. Their wet clothing quickly froze solid, but they hardly noticed.