Emma
Emma regretted her current situation. Her troubles had all started when Madison had called her, telling her she had to return to Winslow. She'd almost said no, thinking to avoid that frightful storm. But Madison was persistent, so into the storm they had traveled. Inside the blizzard, they'd found Taylor. And sudden disaster. Who knew Taylor was the Queen of Winterland herself? Now, thanks to Madison's foolishness, she was locked inside a sculpture of ice.
It wasn't their fault, she incessantly reminded herself. They weren't the ones who'd lost control, no that had been Taylor. Taylor Hebert, the cape freak, was completely responsible.
Her companion repeated his question, and Emma sighed.
"Were you even listening the first time? Twenty days ago, I accompanied my dear friend Madison to the Ice Palace." Somehow, something about her statement felt wrong, but she couldn't figure out why. Her memory always became fuzzier whenever she tried to focus. It hadn't been an Ice Palace then, when they'd visited, it was a... her mind went blank.
"A wicked villainess, the Snow Queen, joined us there. We tried subduing the evil sorceress, but Madison fell to her cruel magic," she continued, facing the frigid wind. She hated this, trekking through all this dreadful snow to reach their destination. "So I fled for my life."
She also disliked her traveling companion, Greg. The boring nerd from Mr. Quinlan's math class. One of Taylor's 'friends.' Not that she really had any friends. But it wasn't like she had any other choice. When she'd approached her school friends for help, they'd nearly fainted just hearing the Snow Queen's name. However, for whatever reason, Greg wasn't bothered the slightest.
"To the Ice Palace we go!" he'd exclaimed. When she'd asked why he was being so enthusiastic, he simply shrugged. "I knew Taylor," he said. "Or the Snow Queen, as many are now calling her. She was weird, sure. But definitely not evil. I don't believe any of these ridiculous rumors about her."
"But don't you feel the cold?" she asked. "And the aurora? It tells me many things, of her magical power and terrible cruelty."
"I hear it too," Greg remarked with a shrug. Beautiful teal flames reflected in his eyes, matching what she'd seen in her own irises. "I just don't let it get to me."
She wished she shared his positivity.
They tramped through the snow in silence, covering several blocks before Greg finally asked, "Once we get there... what will you do?"
"I'll save my friend. Then, I must see the Snow Queen again," Emma answered, the fuzzy feeling entering her mind again. Why exactly did she need to see the queen? Like when she tried thinking about the Ice Palace, her thoughts just unraveled.
"Huh. That's it? I know how close the Trio was. No desire for revenge on your part, for what she did to your friend?"
Emma was slightly surprised by his observation. She'd thought he was completely oblivious to other people's relationships; he seemed only to care about capes or video games.
"I'd be insane to try anything against that sorceress," Emma admitted. "But I do want to save Madison before speaking to the queen." She narrowed her eyes, suddenly overcome with suspicion. "What about you? Why exactly do you want to visit the Ice Palace?"
"I knew Taylor personally," he said. "I'll be visiting an old friend. Besides, there isn't much for us to do out here, except maybe die of frostbite or hypothermia."
She supposed he had a fair point.
When Emma saw the Ice Palace, she felt her opinion of Taylor improve. The frozen edifice, despite its missing segments, radiated both beauty and power. This wasn't the home of the meek girl she'd known at school – Taylor had changed. The building was forged from ice and surrounded by a thick wall and a wide moat. The other pathways and gardens were lit by lanterns emitting a teal glow, and the main facade was lined with glassy ice windows.
A month ago, when she'd first accompanied Madison to this place, the... previous structure had been intact. Now, no trace of it remained, the old building utterly subsumed by Taylor's creation.
"Those are some seriously tall gates," Greg said. "Do you think they will let us in?"
Past the moat and drawbridge, she spotted the entrance gates he was talking about. It reminded her of a heavy portcullis but formed from bands of ice rather than metal.
"This place was meant to keep people out," he continued, looking defeated. "As much as I'd like to see Taylor, I doubt she'll be welcoming us with glittering gifts or lavish banquets."
"Taylor knows me," Emma said stubbornly. "She has to let me in."
"Uh," Greg began. He was staring wide-eyed at something up ahead, and Emma followed his gaze.
Several odd creatures had appeared. Each of them stood a couple feet high and had hunched over bodies formed of rocky ice and snowy clumps. They carried long jagged pikes of ice in their thick hands. The stocky creatures opened the gates and lowered the drawbridge.
"I didn't know Taylor was this creative," Greg muttered. "When we were at Winslow, she didn't really strike me as the artistic type."
"W-winslow?" There it was again, that fuzzy sensation, like her memories were slipping away. She glared up at the teal-green aurora, certain it was eating away at her mind.
"You know, our high school?" he answered. "Where we three went to classes together?"
"Sure, whatever," she said. They were entering the Snow Queen's abode. She couldn't afford to be distracted by her own confusion.
"Also, what the hell are those things going to do?" he grumbled.
The blocky creatures intercepted them.
She stepped forward, head held high. "We demand an audience with the Snow Queen," Emma said haughtily. "I was... am one of her best childhood friends. She will want to see me."
One of the creatures - a troll, she decided – beckoned for her to follow with its pike.
"Did... that just work?" Greg asked in disbelief.
"Of course it did, I'm Emma Barnes... even these frosty gnomes know who I am," she said, glad that her importance was still recognized.
It was somehow colder in the palace than outside. Despite wearing layers of clothing and thick winter gloves, Emma could still feel the chill. The interior of the palace was eerie. It was so perfect... so serene, that Emma felt like they were no longer in Brockton. Blue light filtered through the windows of ice, and gentle glows radiated from hanging lanterns and chandeliers. The tiles on the floor were engraved with intricate patterns; the design reminded her of winter frost.
The troll transferred them to a small squad of smaller snow creatures. Golems, indigo like their bigger brothers, each equipped with a pointed ice spear.
Their snow golem escorts didn't give her time to admire the patterns. They pushed her and Greg forward, down the corridor then through a series of connected rooms. After a while, she realized something was wrong. The golems looked nervous, a few of them straggling behind.
She yelped as a group of greyish, lance-wielding ghosts emerged, floating through the solid ice walls. More phased in from the other side. They swooped forward, stabbing with their lances. Their golem guardians tried to fight, waving their spears. But for whatever reason, their weapons were ineffective against their adversaries. Eventually, the grey ghosts overwhelmed them.
Emma pressed herself against a frozen wall, feeling her fingers numb from contacting the cold surface. She didn't know how to fight, and judging from his dumbfounded expression, neither did Greg. If the ghosts tried to skewer them, there was nothing she could do about it, except maybe leave him as bait. For a brief second, Emma considered pushing him towards the specters.
Then, the ghosts passed on, not even registering their presence.
"What," she said, her lips quivering, "was that?"
"Do you really want to know?" Greg muttered.
She nodded.
"Those were Crusader's projections. He's a cape – a villain in the Empire Eighty-Eight, one of Kaiser's many subordinates."
Right. She'd almost forgotten who her companion was. Greg was a supernerd who obsessed over everything related to capes. "What's he doing here?"
"Probably the same as us," he answered. "Looking for the Snow Queen."
With the golems reduced to chunks of snow, the corridor stood empty. She glanced in the direction they'd been traveling.
"Question is, what do we do from here?" he grumbled. Steam left his mouth, and he looked pale and partially frozen.
"We must continue, with or without our guides," she decided.
"You realize how dangerous this is," Greg asked. "I'm not trying to get you to turn away, I just want you to be careful. If more of those snow creatures think we're intruders, or we run into Crusader's other ghosts..."
"I'm very well aware of the risks," she snapped. "But I'm doing this for my Madison... and for the city."
Greg snorted, like he didn't believe her.
"We keep going," she said stubbornly. She suffered from the cold too, but she wasn't going to quit just yet.
The other boy, bereft of courage, followed wordlessly.
As they progressed deeper into the palace, Emma tried to maintain her confidence. They'd strayed far from the original ambush point, and her own certainty was dwindling. Just how many rooms and hallways were inside this giant freezer? The blue walls of the frozen palace walls gave off a soothing aura, gleaming gently from the teal lamps. Emma tried fighting off its calming presence, after all, they were trespassing in the home of the Snow Queen. The false pretender and her nemesis.
After ten minutes of walking, Greg grumbled, "Where even are we? I hope you know where you're going."
She blinked, trying to banish her fatigue. The section of the palace they'd entered looked austere, starker than the ornamented halls from earlier. She guessed this part was the newer, unfinished portion of the icy building. Emma doubted the Snow Queen would reside here, in this underdeveloped area.
"Probably on the right path," she lied, forcing herself to sound confident.
Marching on, they proceeded down another plain corridor. This turned out to be the wrong decision. The corridor terminated, presenting a solid, blank wall of ice. There was nothing for them here. Greg looked like he wanted to make a remark, but she silenced him with a glare. Surely they could bypass this obstacle? Placing her hands on the frozen, flat barrier, she pushed. The wall stayed unmoving, heavy and unresponsive. Finally, she admitted defeat - they were hopelessly lost. She turned to Greg, prepared for humiliation. "I think we might be..."
Greg lifted a presumptuous eyebrow. "We might be what?"
She suddenly noticed something odd. "...might be closing in on something important," she finished. Partially melded to the wall of ice was a small door. "Look! There's a hidden door. Come on, give me a hand!"
They shoved the door – which was really a smaller block of ice – aside, discovering a stairwell constructed from cleanly cut ice blocks. The stairs led down, into the gloom.
"The palace has subterranean levels? Do you really want to go down?" Greg asked, sounding a bit smug.
"Umm," she hesitated, teeth chattering. She tried not to imagine what might lie further within the palace's icy depths. He was assured that she'd led them off course, that they wouldn't find anything here.
"If you don't even- ahh!"
Her foot slipped on the first step, and she collided into Greg, accidently pushing him down the stairs. She nearly tumbled down after him. "Guess we go down," she muttered, rushing down the stairs. She found her classmate sprawled across the icy floor. Luckily, he looked unhurt.
"Next time," he said, his voice muffled, "You could just tell me to walk instead."
She almost pitied him, poor, naive Greg, and for conscripting him for this journey. Emma glanced away. The room was unlit, and if not for Greg's crappy cellphone, the pervasive darkness would have covered the entire chamber.
"Somehow," he remarked, surveying their shadowy surroundings, "I don't this crummy hole in the ground is where we'll find the Snow Queen."
Emma watched as Greg fiddled with his smartphone, tapping on the screen and generating flickering light. Powering on his phone's flashlight, he illuminated the dark chamber. Their surroundings had lost much of its luster. The smooth walls of ice so prominent on the floor above had vanished, replaced by rough cavern walls. The cave extended outward; it was almost like a wide tunnel.
"Uh, do you still think we should we keep going?" he eventually asked.
"Of course," she snapped. Though Emma had doubts too. What did she think they'd find down that dark tunnel? But her own curiosity pulled her forward, into the unknown. They walked for a minute, deeper into the frozen earth. Gradually, her ears picked up… the soft but unmistakable rhythm of muffled footsteps. It sounded like an entire army of people, a cadence of hundreds of pounding boots.
"I think there's something up ahead," she whispered. She suspected the rhythms originated further below, down the tunnel. But she was both too proud and timid to explore on her own. "Can you go take a look?"
"Why don't you go yourself?" he scowled. No trace of his earlier derision remained, now he seemed anxious and irate.
"You're the one with the flashlight," she retorted. "I don't want to get in your way. Besides, it won't take you long."
Releasing a frustrated sigh, Greg walked on, swinging the flashlight around. He traveled for several paces, towards the yawning darkness. A moment later, he paused, peering downwards. "There's something down there," he whimpered.
"What?" Emma hissed. "Tell me what you see!"
What lay in the abyss below? But her companion looked paralyzed. A blank, horrified expression consumed his features, leaving him as still as a marble statue.
Strolling over, Emma peeked over the edge of the cavity. The scene was frightening.
Her eyes followed dozens of icy slabs, embedded along the sides of the pit, to the floor, where monstrous forms lay below. The forms, she realized, were rows of unfinished snow sculptures. Dozens of snow golems moved around them, working frenetically. She watched a snow golem cart over multiple pieces of snow. Other golems hacked the chunks apart, sticking the pieces onto developing snow sculptures. She realized the golems were making replicas of themselves – those disgusting creatures were reproducing.
The golem workers continued to work, carving small features onto the rows of sculptures. A few teal lanterns flickered feebly, illuminating the entire assembly process. She didn't know how long she watched, enraptured by the production. Eventually, she broke free of the spell.
Greg still stood beside her, his limbs locked tight. He appeared even more fascinated, from the way his jaw hung open.
She tried tugging on his arm, "We need to go," she cried, keeping her voice at a whisper. She didn't want any of those creatures to look up.
He remained petrified, so Emma took his cellphone flashlight and tugged on his coat. They backed away from the ledge, somehow without alerting the creatures below. Gripping the flashlight with a trembling hand, Emma searched for the stairwell.
They didn't get very far.
The shadows stirred. More foreboding creatures obstructed their return path, holding lanterns glowing with teal light. Unlike the snow golems, these appalling creatures stood at shoulder height, each with the width of a boulder. These were trolls, like the ones outside the palace gates. The trolls pointed their frozen pikes towards Emma and Greg, their crude eyes filled with hate.
Apparently, they'd stumbled into a restricted area, and now these homicidal guards had discovered their next victims. Their hostile demeanor chilled her fatigued body even more than the subzero temperatures.
Greg finally found his voice. "T-there's so many of them..."
Emma yanked him along, searching desperately for either another staircase, a hiding place, or anything resembling an exit. She shone the flashlight along the unpolished cavern walls, hoping to find an escape route. But her search was fruitless, they'd been down this path, and there was nothing here.
There wasn't anywhere to go... but down into the barrow.
Nearing the edge of the cavity, she took a tentative step, shifting her weight onto the first slab of ice. The slick surface supported her, but at any moment her balance threatened to give. Every frozen slab was a gamble. If her feet slipped, her body would crash onto the icy floor below.
The hostile trolls pursued. They were more adept at traversing these treacherous steps... or they just didn't care about falling. Emma realized it was the latter. One of the trolls plummeted to its death, disintegrating into clumps of snow. The other creatures didn't even flinch. If anything, they looked emboldened, like they wanted to avenge their friend.
Emma reached the level they'd seen from the top of the barrow. She knocked aside a worker golem, crashing it into a passing one. She pushed over another sculpture, turning the unfinished replica into clumps of snow, then sprinted across the deceptively large chamber. From above, the entire setting seemed so distant and miniature, but the actual production floor was vast and extensive.
Oddly, the hunting trolls began to slow. If they were assigned to protect this barrow, she guessed they couldn't just trample over the incomplete sculptures.
Behind her, Greg slowed down. She glanced at him, noticing he was breathing heavily. "You keep going..." he wheezed.
As he said that, stark white lights sliced through the enormous room. Emma was momentarily blinded as several flashlight beams intercepted them. Two costumed individuals entered from a frozen side door, perfectly camouflaged in the frosty sides of the barrow. They stood in their way, barring any possibility of escape. Behind them, the angry snow trolls finally caught up.
"Huh, that's not Crusader," the shorter cape muttered. He wore a ridiculously stylish outfit, and he was clutching a silver scepter.
"So you're what's been causing all this ruckus," said the taller cape with the skull mask. "One of you, go inform Her Grace about our uninvited guests."
Surprisingly, the trolls just leered at him. She'd thought they were on the same team, but apparently not. They were just reluctant allies, united in their hatred towards Greg and herself.
"Look at that poor thing... she's trembling," shorter cape said with false sympathy.
Summoning her courage, Emma repeated what she'd told the golem sentries earlier, "We're here to see the Snow Queen." Her voice quavered, and she hated that feeling of weakness. "Please, could you take us to her?"
The taller cape examined the two of them. He seemed to smile behind his mask. "Follow me then. Her Grace will decide your fate."
They whisked Emma and Greg away.
Lisa
Tattletale considered her current predicament, examining the positives first.
First, the unstable, traumatized girl masquerading as the Snow Queen trusted her. Somehow, Taylor was intrigued by her rational, unclouded mind, like she didn't know how to react to someone who wasn't one of her enthralled slaves. Along with the Undersiders, she'd found a place at her frozen court. Currently, Lisa helped Taylor's dad run the palace, and she was certain Snowy's reliance on her would only grow.
Second, she had an amazing bedroom, nearly thrice the size of her old apartment. Fractals of ice climbed up the frozen walls, icy and blue. A heavy chandelier dangled from ceiling, adorned with soft frosty patterns. It filled her room with a soothing greenish light. The ice on the floor reminded her of the surface of a lake deep in winter, thick and glossy. A gorgeous mantel clock stood above the gleaming fireplace, also filled with glowing teal orbs. She placed her freezing fingers near the gentle glow, but the cold aura provided no warmth. Her room was just as cold as the rest of the palace.
While her bed was made of hard ice – who thought that was a good idea, really – the blankets and sleeping bag she and the team had packed let her sleep through the bitter nights. The room was cold enough that the icy bed didn't melt from her feeble body heat. Food was delivered from the space behind the walls, carried by those funny golem minions Taylor kept making. Sometimes, Brian called his team together, and they dined in the small but ornate dining room down the hall.
All in all, her bedroom was spacious and beautiful, but certainly not perfect.
Then there were the negatives.
First, she was now firmly a part of the Snow Queen's questionable plans, whatever they were – Tattletale's own power hadn't provided much detail. But from what she could tell, staring into Taylor's haunting blue eyes, the girl had many ambitions. Lisa had picked the path of villainy, but she hadn't signed up to become a real villain. The palace was spectacular, but it was still a gilded cage. If Snowy ordered Brian to do something truly evil, she couldn't be sure he'd have the strength to refuse. And if he didn't refuse, Lisa and her teammates would become mixed up in whatever diabolical plots Taylor had created.
Two, the palace was freezing cold. Wherever she went, she felt numbed to the bone, and often Lisa sat in council meetings half frozen, her limbs stiff and her lips chapped. Even when she was moving around, bundled in layers of warm clothes and a thick coat, the chill persisted. Lisa was so tired of it, so sick of all the snow and ice. But what else did she expect, this was the Snow Queen's home.
Third and worst of all, her teammates were all mind controlled. It started a week ago, when Lisa had heard that a school near the Docks had been blown up. A tragedy, but nothing unsurprising in a city like Brockton. Only when Lisa learnt that a parahuman trigger was the cause, and watched a video of the incident, did she start to worry. A swiftly growing snowstorm had formed over the remnants of a school, pouring tons of snow over the streets.
This storm was positioned uncomfortably close to her team's base. From the second floor, Lisa spotted the expanding blizzard, moving ominously closer. She'd gone to bed intending to warn her teammates the next morning.
When she'd woken, haunting teal light streamed through windows, saturating her room and painting everything green. Glancing outside, she'd found a thick snowfall and teal aurora – the storm had reached them while they'd slept. Just looking at the light, she suddenly felt so tired. Lisa didn't want to go anywhere, much less outside. She just wanted to lie in bed.
Only her superpower kept her lucid, yelling something about emotional Mastering.
Eventually, she found her teammates in their own rooms. They each wore the same glassy-eyed, dead expressions, unresponsive when she called their names or shook their bodies. The rest of her team had succumbed to the depression-inducing aurora. Then one day, Grue seemed to recover, walking around their lair normally. The others recovered too, but they seemed... different. Later, Brian gathered the rest of the team, then declared that they were all loyal subjects of the Snow Queen.
Lisa had been too shocked to counter his ludicrous statement. Then, their team leader marched them out of their base, embarking on a quest to find Her Grace.
Now, she sat shivering in her grand bedroom under that hateful aurora, feeling the same hopelessness again. There were three positives tied with three negatives. What did this mean for her and the Snow Queen? What did she really think of Taylor? Lisa didn't have anything conclusive.
And why was she contemplating this now? Well, dozens of spectral ghosts were flowing into the midnight hall, each holding a ten-foot-long lance. They were looking for someone, clearly not her. There was only one individual these menacing projections could be seeking.
Maybe she could put an end to this long winter? She could lead Crusader's ghosts to Taylor, lift the endless ice and snow from Brockton... or she could instead warn the girl. She weighed her options, then made her choice. Lisa just hoped it was the right one.
A/N: Been busy with irl other stuff, but here's an interlude chapter while I try and figure out the rest of the plot.
