Frozen Fire

Chapter Eighteen: Fulcrum

xXx

The stink of death and a churning sea of carnage drenched the village of Ec'Nelis.

Dragurs roared below, while the skies teemed with a horde of phantasms. Thankfully for Danny, the horde was small this time, no doubt due to the immense mob of skeletal monsters lurching about the streets like a hemorrhaging wound. He winced as the phantasms tore at his cloak and yanked. Their frenzied cries rang loud and piercing like a siren. He blitzed them with a charged beam of his power, then descended onto the streets, just past the Spire in the Market Circle. As he landed, a group of draugrs reeled from the three yeti they'd been engaged with to face him. One of the draugr's jaw sagged, as if in a grin, its empty eye sockets glittering with green fire.

Like the promise of a storm riding the wind, it hissed his name. Not the name he went by, or any of the others he'd been given over the years. It was the name Written into the stones of a cave at the peak of Mount Cinomrah. The name he abhorred with every hellish fiber of his being.

And then they said, "Ourrrr kiiiiiinnng awaitssssss youuuuuu."

His face contorted, eyes glowing bright, as he blasted the draugr with his power. The discharge of ecto-energy lit up the battlefield and the draugr exploded. "Nice try, bone bag," he said, "but that won't work this time."

They'd taken him by surprise last time. It wouldn't happen again.

The yeti—Ymira, Aksel, and Timberfrost—raised their swords in thanks, just as Timberfrost shouted, "All hail our Great One!"

Danny dipped his chin to them, before he launched back into the sky, whirled, and vaporized a swarm of draugrs that had two females and their howling cubs cornered. A pressure started to build in his chest as his core bristled, as that inner voice inside him whispered over and over and over again: Protect. Destroy. Kill.

Protect. Destroy. Kill.

Danny thought nothing of decorum. His rage became fire as something primal in him reacted to the keening wails of the yeti—of his family. And that name. He could still hear it. It didn't matter how loud the battlefield became; he could still hear it everywhere—that godsdamned name.

Protect. Destroy. Kill.

The power in him thundered like a storm cloud. Waves of it churned, congregating in his clenched fists, and he fought it off with his teeth gritted. He used his ice power instead, blasting those monsters into pieces.

Protect. Destroy. Kill.

The battle of Ec'Nelis was nothing compared to the war that raged inside him. He fought it off with all his strength as he ripped draugrs apart, bone by bone, until their fire petered out and their bodies disintegrated into ectoplasmic waste.

He would bring the death, but he wouldn't become it. He refused.

Something launched at him from behind, grappling at his cloak. He spun with his teeth bared, ectoplasma charged and roiling in his palm.

"Danny!" Dagfinnr cried.

The charge dissipated. Behind the cub he spotted a wild-eyed Finn. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and hauled them into the sky, just as the spiked end of a Morningstar whizzed past their heads. The cubs cried out as several crossbow bolts hurtled towards them. With a burst of energy, Danny turned them all intangible, and the bolts passed through them instead, though Finn still shrieked with his hands covering his eyes. He dropped the terrified cubs onto a truss of ice where two rooftops joined.

"Stay here," he commanded. But then, as he surveyed them, realization curdled, and his insides went hollow. "Where's Freyja?"

Dag and Finn shared a glance, their eyes wide and stricken with panic as they turned back to Danny, and Dag cried, "We got separated!"

"We—she—the draugr! It was after us! We thought . . .we thought she was right behind us!" said Finn, tears clumping the fur around his eyes. He wiped at his snotty nose and clutched at Danny's cloak again. "We gotta find her!"

Deep seated rage boiled in Danny's chest. The insidiousness of his power churned just below the surface of his control, waiting for him to give in; to unleash its might upon his enemies. The very air around him shimmered and the snow brightened as his aura flared.

Dag and Finn both stumbled away from him, their faces stricken.

"Where is she?" he demanded in a voice that did not sound like his own.

"W-we last saw her in the alley off the Market and Southbend," Dag stammered.

"At the freezepop cart!" Finn added frantically.

Danny whirled midair. His hands clenched into fists that flickered with power as he scanned the streets. Bloodshed and destruction reigned, but the yeti fought valiantly, their war cries a deafening roar accentuated by the sharp clash of metal and ice and bone. Suddenly, a blur of white and the glint of twinned swords caught his attention. He squinted at the alley of Southbend where Tsuel and Frostbreath lived.

His core and the teeming well of power in him bristled with instinct. Protect. Protect them. Fight, destroy, kill. Annihilate.

And when he spotted the draugrs his vision went white.

xXx

Tucker yawned into his hand as he waited in line at the cafeteria. He was running late this morning. Jack and Maddie had technically given him the day off, so, considering the time, he was certain they'd already eaten, and wouldn't be expecting him. Part of him was inclined to skip the lab today. But then what? His best friend was gone, and it wasn't like there was anything else to do in this shithole besides work, so he supposed he may as well head into Fentonworks and try and get something done. Never mind that he was up to his eyeballs in projects.

He thanked the teenage girl working the handout counter after she presented him with a hot breakfast sandwich and a mug of black coffee. Stuffing the sandwich into his mouth, he gnawed on it while he walked to the lab. The other residents nodded to him as he passed, with some even murmuring halfhearted pleasantries, but otherwise ignored him, which he appreciated. He'd hated all the pitying looks and condolences that had followed in the wake of Sam's disappearance. At least now he was back to blending in with the melancholy.

As he walked, his thoughts strayed. Damon Gray had expressed interest in integrating Tucker's goggle prototype into the Militia's gear, much to Tucker's surprise. It was to the point now that Gray sent his subordinate, Branson-or-whatever-his-name-was, down to the lab for updates almost daily. That, coupled with the brain-breaking shit the Fentons had sprung on him a week ago, was keeping him more than busy as of late.

Which was good. Busy was good. It kept him from thinking too long about the hard shit.

Though, he supposed he could argue that the research the Fentons kept hidden on that laptop in their wall very much counted as hard shit too, but at least it was less personal hard shit. He'd take toeing the line of treason over dealing with his grief any day.

Still . . . Tucker sighed as he washed the crusty bread and egg sandwich down with a suffering sip of his coffee. He had no idea what to think anymore. His mind reeled with images of Phantom turning an entire building intangible, saving the hundreds of people fleeing it as it crumbled to the ground, while in a surveillance feed two years later, he'd decimated the entire GIW facility and killed everyone inside it. It didn't make any sense.

No matter. Today, he decided he wouldn't think. He'd simply waltz into the lab, greet the Fentons, and set to work on soldering some electrical receptors with his favorite Humpty Dumpty songs blasting in his ears. Numb his mind with some sick guitar riffs and tune out the world. Tune out all the hard shit, too. Try and forget it all. At least . . . for a little while.

Already humming the tune to his favorite song, Tucker didn't notice her at first, waiting in one of the little alcoves where the Northeast-Southwest hallways intersected. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she grabbed him by the loose fabric of his jumpsuit and yanked. Hot coffee spilled down the front of his shirt and all over his hand.

"Tucker?" Paulina asked. "Please tell me that's you. I've been waiting here for hours."

"Uh, yeah, it's me?" Tucker said, willing his racing heart to chill the fuck out, because holy shit she'd scared the crap out of him. He hissed through his teeth as he tried in vain to shake the pain from his burned hand. "What the hell, Paulina?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I make you spill your coffee?" she asked. She didn't sound sorry at all, though. She tilted her head at him, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips. The orange cane she always carried dangled from one of her hands.

"You kinda did," Tucker said. "It's fine, though, only a third-degree burn. I'll just live the rest of my life in agony. Don't worry about it."

Her lips curled. "I wasn't worried. I'm sure you're fine."

"You could always make it up to me?" Tucker hedged, waggling his eyebrows at her. Then realized how stupid he was, because she was blind and couldn't see it.

Paulina wrinkled her nose and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. "Nice try, Geek Boy, but that's not why I'm here."

Just his luck. Even the resident crazy chick wasn't interested. Tucker shrugged and stuffed his throbbing hand into his pocket. The other still held his half-empty coffee, which he took a long sip of. "So, what can I do you for, gorgeous?"

"Valerie was here last night. I'm pretty sure she was snooping in the lab. Just thought you'd want to know."

Tucker straightened at that. "How do you know?"

"Because she ran into me. Literally. It sounded like she was walking fast from the direction of the lab. Seemed, like, super sketchy about it, too."

"What were you doing here, Paulie? Keeping an eye out for ol' Too Fine?" he joked, though he couldn't keep the accusing tone out of his voice. His eyes narrowed as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Paulina scowled at him. "I like going for walks at night." She tapped her cane onto the ground. "It's easier for me when there's less foot traffic."

Oh. That did make sense. Tucker winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Fair point. Well, did you see what Valerie was doing?"

By the time he realized his mistake, Paulina was already smirking at him. She arched a brow. "Would you like to try that one again?"

Another wince. "Uhhh, do you happen to know what she was doing here?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't. But anyone snooping around at night is probably doing it for the wrong reasons. Just thought you and the whacky weirdo Fentons might like to know."

She was right; they absolutely would like to know that. Tucker's heart galloped at the information hidden in that lab, and what it could mean that Valerie was potentially snooping. Was there a correlation? Or was it all some big coincidence? His mind raced, and apprehension roiled in the pit of his stomach. A cold sweat broke out at the back of his neck. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

"Something is wrong with her," Paulina said.

"Wrong with who?"

"Valerie."

"Something's wrong with Valerie?" His face darkened as he thought again of Sam, and how Valerie had treated her. He remembered how Valerie had acted at the funeral. All demanding and haughty and teeming with her shitty attitude. "Other than she's a bitch?"

Agitation flickered across Paulina's face. "She never used to be like that. Something is wrong with her. She's not . . ." Her mouth twisted as she struggled for the words. "She's not right. I don't know how else to say it."

Tucker studied Paulina then. Ever since the accident that robbed her of her sight, the gorgeous Latina had all but faded into the shadows, wandering the compound's winding hallways and hardly speaking to anyone. The other residents avoided her like the plague. Not because of her disability, but because, despite having been blinded by one, Paulina was very vocal about her belief that not all ghosts were evil. That everything they knew was likely wrong. As a result, they'd all called her crazy. A ghost sympathizer. The poster child for Stockholm Syndrome. And a myriad of other terrible things that Tucker was too ashamed to admit. Because now, after that shit he'd seen in the lab, he wasn't sure what to believe anymore.

So much for tuning out the world and all the hard stuff. He sighed again.

"What makes you think there's something wrong with Valerie?" he asked.

Paulina's brows rose. It was clear she hadn't been expecting him to believe her, which made him feel like total shit. "It's hard to explain. She's always so . . . on edge. Jumpy." She crossed her arms and rapped her fingers along the crook of her arm. "Her dad, too. They fidget a lot, like there's a war going on inside them."

"So?"

"So, Val never used to be like that. And Mr. Gray never used to be so . . . mean. Something isn't right."

Tucker was silent as he mulled over Paulina's words. He thought again of how Valerie was at the funeral. But then, he also remembered Maddie Fenton telling him how Val had practically sobbed when she'd told her about Sam. He remembered how close Sam and Val had been when they were younger, until out of nowhere, Sam said that Val just . . . changed. Like a switch being flipped. It never made sense to Sam, and Tucker knew his best friend had agonized over it in the years that followed, though she'd never admitted it.

Paulina must've mistaken Tucker's thoughtful silence for something else, because she shifted her feet and glared at him with her cloudy eyes. "I'm not crazy, Geek Boy."

Tucker raised his hands but then dropped them to his sides as he realized, yet again, that she wouldn't see it. "Didn't say you were, Paulie."

She raised her chin and ran her fingers through her long silky hair. "Wouldn't care if you did. Just like to remind everyone once in a while." She laughed a little under her breath. "Not that it does any good. And yes, I know it's ironic coming from me with how I treated you and Goth Girl in our middle years."

Tucker's chest tightened at the reference to Sam. "Uh, it's fine. Not even worried about it."

"It really is a shame," Paulina said. "What happened to her, I mean. She was one of the few people around here who didn't completely suck." She twirled her hair around her fingers so tight that the tips of them reddened. A shadow swept across her face. "I saw her. That night before . . . well, you know."

His stomach was suddenly in his shoes. Sam hadn't told him that. "Y-you did?"

Paulina nodded. "She couldn't sleep. She was . . . worried. About the mission. And I . . . I think I gave her some bad advice."

"What do you mean you gave her bad advice?"

"Just the usual. You know, all the things everyone taunts me for."

Tucker let out a single humorless laugh, though his heart leapt as Sam's decision to drop her ectogun suddenly seemed clearer. Not that he could tell Paulina that. "It's not your fault. Sam's kinda stubborn. You wouldn't have been able to just convince her of something. Not unless she already believed it herself on some level. What happened to her was just a . . ." He swallowed hard. "A freak accident."

"What did happen to her? I heard it was the wisps."

"It was," he lied. And hated himself for it. But he'd promised the Fentons he would keep FENTODRONE #9's surveillance footage clandestine for the time being.

Paulina blinked away the sudden glassiness from her eyes. She took a deep breath and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "I still stand by what I believe. There are good ghosts out there."

"Didn't a ghost blind you?"

"Not on purpose. He saved me. If it wasn't for him the Fright Knight would have killed me. He's a hero."

"But he blinded you, Paulina. That doesn't seem very heroic to me."

Paulina shrugged. "I'm alive and I wouldn't have been. I'd rather be blind than dead, believe it or not."

"Which ghost even was it?" Tucker asked.

"I don't know. I never got his name. But he was really powerful."

"Hey, that really narrows it down."

Paulina scowled at him. "He had white hair like snow and green eyes that glowed like fire. I remember his face because he looked so human. Sorry I can't paint you a picture, Geek Boy. Would if I could."

"Heh, sorry. I don't mean to seem like I'm mocking you," Tucker said. "It's just a lot to take in, y'know?"

"No, I don't know. It's really not that complicated. There's a lot we don't know. And this place," she gestured around the corridor, "is keeping us in the dark about a lot of it. There's an entire war happening out there, and I think it's a lot bigger than we realize." She scoffed, hand falling to her hip as she rolled her eyes. "And everyone says I'm the crazy one."

He didn't know why, but something in her words struck him down to his core, and that feeling lingered long after he bid Paulina farewell and resumed the last leg of his journey to the Fentons' lab. Paulina was supposed to be nuts. So why did Tucker feel like she was the only one in this godforsaken place who seemed lucid? Why did he kind of believe her? Sure, there were the videos that Maddie showed him, and yeah, he'd watched the way that giant furred creature had cradled Sam to its chest, but that didn't mean that ghosts weren't inherently evil . . . right?

And then there was that shit with Valerie. Now that Paulina pointed it out, he had to agree that Val had seemed off at the funeral. He'd been so blind with his own grief and rage at the time that he hadn't even noticed it. But now that he was thinking about it? His stomach churned again. He needed to get to the lab. And he needed to start getting some answers.

xXx

Sam readied herself for the draugr's attack.

Feet planted wide, arms loose at her sides, and ice shard clenched in a white knuckled fist, she waited. The draugr, with its gaping mouth from which a terrible noise bellowed, advanced towards her. She let out a breath as her attention focused on the sharp point of the spear, aimed to gore her through her chest. Freyja trembled and whimpered into her back.

In a blur of rot, the draugr lunged for them.

Time seemed to slow.

In the last moment, right before the monster reached them, Sam slammed her heel onto the hilt of the giant sword that laid tilted, blade down, against the cart's axel. With the axel acting as a fulcrum, the force of Sam's kick caused the blade to pivot, just high enough, so that when the draugr descended it impaled itself on the blade.

Right through its goddamned core.

With a wail of rage, the draugr imploded.

The acidic rainfall of ectoplasm pelted her, and she shielded her eyes as much as possible. It felt like liquid fire on her exposed skin—but she didn't care. All that mattered to her was Freyja's safety.

Any relief she was about to feel was short lived. The second draugr was closing in. It started to swing its spiked flail as it neared, the sound of it a dull whoop, whoop, whoop—a mere blur against the clear blue sky.

At the mouth of the alley, three more draugrs stumbled in, shrieking, their weapons poised.

Sam faced them all. Her grip tightened on the ice shard. Eyes burning and teeth gritted, she thought only of Freyja. She would lay down her life if it meant that Freyja walked out of here unharmed.

She waited for the blows to come.

But they never did.

Instead, the flail-wielding draugr burst apart in fragments of bone and tendrils of fiery green, just as a frozen sword was lanced through its body. In her shock, Sam stumbled backwards and into Freya, which sent them both sprawling into the snow.

Sam stared at the sky, wide-eyed, to where Elle Phantom floated, two icy blades poised in either hand. She descended and helped Sam to her feet, then glanced between Sam and the trembling Freyja, who pressed her little muzzle into Sam's side.

"You are probably the dumbest creature I have ever met," Elle said to Sam, though her words lacked her usual disdain. Her hand was still on Sam's upper arm; it tightened in a gentle squeeze as the ghost girl's eyes twinkled. "But you just might be the bravest."

Sam didn't have time to respond before the three draugrs lunged for them. Elle spun, blades whistling as she plunged them through their cores. She glanced at Sam over her shoulder, her eyes flicking to the large blade Sam had impaled the first draugr with. "Do you know how to use that?"

"I can't pick it up," Sam replied with prickling shame.

Unfazed, Elle merely nodded once. "Just keep Freyja with you."

Sam set her jaw and squared her shoulders. She hauled Freyja to her chest, hugging the cub tight. In response, Freyja wrapped her arms around Sam's neck and buried her muzzle into the furred ruff of Sam's coat. "I won't let anything happen to her. I promise."

Surprise flitted in Elle's expression. And when she whirled, white hair fanning out like fog, Sam could only watch in amazement as Elle wielded her twin blades with expert precision and unleashed a volley of deliberate strikes against the advancing draugrs.

In Sam's arms, the cub's little body shook with wracking sobs. Her tears were wet against Sam's neck, which only made her hug the cub tighter. She pressed her chin into the fluff between Freyja's ears. "It's okay, it's okay," she soothed, stroking the back of Freyja's head.

Eventually, Elle sank one of her blades into a nearby snow dune, and with her power, she made one that was smaller than her own, its blade like that of a giant needle. She handed it to Sam.

"They're much weaker in the daylight," Elle said. "Stay out of the shadows and engage only if they get too close."

Sam took the blade. "It would be my pleasure."

Elle gave her a conspiring grin before she spun so her back was facing Sam. And Sam, even with one arm still wrapped tight around the yeti cub, raised her needle blade in a defensive position. She bent her knees and kept her center of gravity low, ready for whatever was about to come.

And come they did. Spilling in through the gaping mouth of the alley, the draugrs continued to storm the alcove. They careened through the wreckage as the world filled with their hellish cries and hurled themselves at the ghost girl. But not once did Elle balk. She was a phantom blur of shining blades and the white of her cloak, twirling amidst the melee like a choreographed waltz. The ground beneath her feet became drenched with steaming ectoplasm—and yet, none of it was hers.

Even though Elle took up most of the offense, Sam was able to nab one of the ghoulish bastards that succeeded in getting too close. She was nowhere near Elle's level in swordplay, certainly, but she managed. A stab was a stab. She sunk her blade straight through the bastard as it neared, the honed ice piercing its armor like butter. It didn't destabilize as the first one had, but she incapacitated it enough for Elle to finish it off with a blast of polar energy.

With that same energy, Elle whirled and blasted an entire group of them. Gleaming shards plunged through the green fire of their bodies, and then her blades sang, like wind through the mountains. She cut off their wretched gurgling with two precise swipes, twirled like a ballerina on a single leg, and used that momentum to spin into three more and cut them in half, her swords glowing with her power and her eyes blazing blue instead of green.

She was powerful, Sam realized, but in a way that was different from her twin. Danny exuded raw power, while Elle showed it with the way she moved and the expert manor with which she used her swords. A newfound respect bloomed in Sam's chest as she watched Elle in action.

Finally, the ghost girl slammed her fist onto the ground and sent a wave of ice hurtling toward a swarm of draugrs, freezing them into place, and then she finished them off with a swipe of one of her blades.

The alley was calm for a single tense moment before two more draugrs hobbled in. But before Elle could so much as raise a blade towards them, a powerful green blast detonated from somewhere in the sky, and they blew apart in fragmented bits.

Sam tensed and turned just in time to shield Freyja from the blast. She gritted her teeth against the resulting barrage of bone shards that pelted her back.

A strange energy surged and she tasted metal on her tongue. Her nose filled with the distinct scent of ozone, like a summery afternoon before the first strike of lightning. Clutching the whimpering Freyja tight, Sam raised her blade in anticipation of the new threat, ready for the fight, but then lowered her arm immediately.

Because there, floating above her with eyes that glowed bright with rage, was Danny. With his proximity, a familiar bout of ice raked through her veins as his wrath settled upon them like a dark cloud about to eclipse the sun. His aura was charged and bright and almost as glaring as the sunlight that lit his silhouette with a gilded halo. He looked menacing as hell.

"Took you long enough," Elle quipped.

When he saw Sam, his eyes widened, and he landed so hard that the ground rumbled and sent snow spraying in every direction. Sam didn't so much as flinch as the very air she breathed became charged with what felt like an electrical current and her ears crackled. Even her hair seemed to stand on end in places, which only grew stronger as he approached. She held her ground and stared him down.

"You were supposed to stay in the castle," he growled. His voice sounded strange, like it was far away.

Before Sam could retort, Elle stepped between them. "Hey, lay off her. She saved Freyja's life."

The lingering rage ebbed from Danny's expression, and with it, the stifling static that had arrived with him. As if noticing her for the first time, his eyes landed on Freyja.

"You did?" he asked, bewildered.

Sam shot him a dry look but otherwise ignored him. She stroked Freyja's trembling back with long movements meant to soothe her and whispered to the cub, "Heyyyyy, shhhhh, it's okay. You're safe now."

But the cub wouldn't release her. Freyja's arms remained tight around Sam's neck, her face still pressed under Sam's chin and buried in her hair. It was then that Sam realized her own knees were shaking. She stumbled a bit, and Danny caught her by the elbow.

Around them, yeti had started to gather, crowding them. A whispering faceless sea that Sam could barely make sense of. She felt removed from herself, with senses that were dull and a body that felt sluggish, as if she were trapped underwater or in a dream. She knew the yeti were talking about her, but she couldn't make sense of their words. It all sounded strange and jumbled together.

Until a small female burst frantically from the crowd, her blue eyes wild. "FREYJA!" she screeched.

The cub in Sam's arms squirmed and cried out, "Mother!"

Sam lowered the wriggling Freyja to the ground and watched as the little cub ran into her mother's outstretched arms.

"Oh my Gods!" the female sobbed into the small tuft of fur between Freyja's ears. "Great Gods and Ancients. Mercy, mercy." Her tear-filled eyes landed on Sam, the fur of her face matted and stained with flecks of green and purple. She had gouges on her arms and her claws were stained green as they clutched the fabric of Freyja's tattered dress. "Praise you, human girl. Praise you."

The crowd murmured again, but Sam could barely hear them. Her vision was warped, the world now tilted and nonsensical. She stumbled again as her adrenaline high banked and left her filled with boundless exhaustion. God, she was so fucking tired. And her head . . . her head ached.

Two hands seized her under both of her arms to steady her. Danny grabbed her left, while Elle had her right. With a breathy laugh, Elle released her, and Danny swung her into his arms to cradle her to his chest. She wanted to object—tried to object—but the words were heavy on her tongue. The shapes around her condensed as they closed in, and then everything was swept away by a sea of darkness.

.

.

.

When Sam woke again, her brain was muddled and foggy. She instantly recognized the swaddle of soft fur that fringed her vision, and the little rainbows that danced around the crystal stalactites on the ceiling. She was in the medical sector.

And she wasn't alone.

"Ah, she wakes," a voice said.

Sam's swimming vision focused on the grinning face of Sleetjaw. She scowled at him, annoyed to be in the cradle, which made him chuckle as he gave her room to sit up some.

"How long was I out?" she croaked.

"Take it easy, young one," Sleetjaw said, "you sustained several minor injuries that are still in the process of settling. My prompt intervention has saved you from lasting damage, but the injuries may still ache some. And you have been out for only a few hours."

"You don't say," Sam said dryly. "I feel like a million bucks, actually."

"A million what?"

Ignoring him, Sam scrubbed the bleariness from her eyes. But when her vision cleared, she blinked at all the faces staring back at her.

Just behind Sleetjaw, she spotted Danny, and next to him was Elle. Their cloaks were tattered and stained, but they appeared otherwise unharmed. Frostbite's bulk loomed close behind them, and to their left was Frostbreath and Tsuel, and in Tsuel's arms was . . . was . . .

Tears filled Sam's eyes at the sight of the little squirming cub Tsuel had tucked to her chest. She sat up straighter, suddenly frantic as a horrible thought settled like frost. "Freyja?"

"Is safe," Frostbreath said. "Alive. Because of you."

"Oh, Sam," Tsuel said, "you poor dear, brave, cub!"

The female darted forward then, between the males, and nearly shoulder checked Danny in her haste to get to Sam. The fur of her cheeks was matted and wet. She brushed one of her giant clawed hands along Sam's face, cupping her jaw, and pressed her brow to Sam's for a moment. When she pulled away, her eyes glittered with emotion. Sam stared at Tsuel, bewildered, before her attention turned to the cub that stirred in Tsuel's arms. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat when she realized that Leif's wide set eyes were just as golden as his mother's.

Where Freyja had been as big as a border collie, Leif was about the size of a large cat. His ears were oversized and rounded, perched atop his little fluffy head, with fur streaked with faint traces of blue. He reached for Sam, the little clawless nubs of his fingers splayed wide. He made a little noise that sounded like a cross between a chirp and a squeak as he gave her a wide toothless smile.

Sam couldn't take her eyes off him. "He's beautiful, Tsuel," she managed to choke out.

"You may hold him," Tsuel offered gently, "if you like."

Sam's eyes widened. "What? Really?" She glanced at the cub again, uncertain. "I . . . I don't know . . ."

But then, the cub squeaked again and reached for her, and Sam's arms seemed to move of their own accord as she allowed Tsuel to settle the little creature onto her chest.

She about died right then and there from the sheer cuteness.

"He's so . . . soft," she said, her voice hoarse. Leif cooed softly and nuzzled deeper into her chest. And though she'd been fighting them off with valiant effort, the tears that burned her eyes started to spill down her cheeks unbidden. With all she'd learned about yeti society in recent months, she knew this was a profound moment, so she reveled in it, at the feeling of complete acceptance she felt emanating from the room. She'd crossed a line today, sure, but she didn't think it was a bad one.

Then she noticed her arm.

A thick white band of puckered scar tissue zigzagged up her forearm. She snorted. "That's new."

"Humans do heal a bit differently, I am afraid. The scarring will settle in a day's time, but it may always be visible," Sleetjaw said. "You are very lucky to be alive, human girl."

"Indeed," Frostbite said. "You disobeyed my direct order to stay inside the castle."

Sam glared right back at him. "And I'd do it again."

"You almost died, child."

"So what?" Sam snapped. "If I wasn't there that thing—that draugr—would have killed Freyja!"

Tsuel whirled to glare at Frostbite. "Perhaps this is a conversation that can be had when Sam is not holding my cub," she snapped. "Sam has done a wonderful thing. Freyja is still alive because of her. That is what is important."

Frostbite's eyes still burned with fire, but he sighed and pinched the bridge of his wide muzzle between his claws. "You are correct, Tsuel. Forgive me. I just do not wish to encourage defiance in my subjects."

"Good thing I'm not one of your subjects then, huh?" Sam quipped.

"She's got you there, father," Danny said. "She's not a yeti, so she's not bound by the same governance that we are. You can't hold her actions against her."

"I agree with Danny. We should be celebrating her bravery not chastising her like a cub," Elle said. She met Sam's shocked gaze and nodded once, smirking lightly, before she nudged Danny with her elbow.

Up until now, he'd been quiet. Sam noted his crossed arms and the subdued manner that he stood off to the side with his sister. Despite the battle's end, his face was still clouded and troubled. She gave him a thankful smile, which he returned tremulously, and finally approached her. Tsuel shuffled over to Sam's other side to give him space.

"Are you okay, Sam?" he asked. He stopped an arm's length away, and Sam knew the distance was intentional. "Sleetjaw said you took a pretty hard hit to the head."

Shrugging as she patted Leif's back, Sam said, "I mean, I feel like I got hit by a truck, but I think I'm doing alright all things considered." She smirked. "Good thing I'm kind of hardheaded, right?"

The clouds on his face cleared some. He blew out the slightest laugh. "I was just about to say that but you beat me to it."

"What kind of creature is a truck?" Sleetjaw asked.

Sam snickered a little. "Trucks aren't creatures, they're vehicles." Her nose wrinkled as she added, "And impractical ones, at that."

"Vee-hickle?" Sleetjaw tilted his giant head, ears pricked. "What is such a thing?"

"Humans use them for transportation," Danny said. "Kind of like how we use horses and carriages here, only mechanical."

"A mechanical horse and carriage? How very interesting!"

Tsuel disappeared and was replaced with the great wall of fluff that was Frostbreath. Sam blinked and sputtered as two giant clawed hands grasped either side of her face, and a cold wet tongue licked her from chin to forehead in a single gross swipe.

"Oh, Sam!" he exclaimed. "I am so delighted that you have prevailed! You do not know how lucky you are! It is a true miracle of the Ancients!"

"Good to see you too, buddy," Sam said as she patted his hand. It took all her self-control to keep from wiping the film of slobber off the side of her face. Which she couldn't really do, anyway. Not with the little cub still curled in her arms and snoozing lightly.

She sighed and leveled Frostbite with a resigned look. Time to face the music. "Soooo, what happens now?"

The Yeti King's Brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Am I, like, in trouble? Will I go to yeti jail for disobeying you?"

"I am not happy with you, Sam, that is true, but my son is right. You are not a yeti, so you are not bound by our code of honor, but . . ." He smiled a little, his gaze drifting to Leif, then returning to her. "You have done something most wonderful. You had no weapons, and yet you still ran into danger without any concern for yourself, and with nothing to gain from it. I speak for all my people when I say that we will never forget such bravery."

"Indeed, songs shall be sung in your honor!" Frostbreath added. "Even if it is I who must compose them. All the Far Frozen shall know what you have done here today." Just as Tsuel had done, Frostbreath leaned towards her and briefly pressed his brow to hers before he pulled away, grinning.

"Furthermore," Frostbite continued, "I shall train you in the ways of battle myself, as is my right as the King of this Realm."

"No," a guttural voice growled. One that Sam knew all too well.

She hadn't noticed him until now. Surrounded by her friends and still partially consumed by the soft furs of the ice cradle, she had missed Icefang's hulking presence near the entrance, where he loomed in all his angry glory. A large gash leaked purple from his brow, just past the base of his horns, and crawled to the peak of his left cheekbone. His long tail flicked as he scowled at Sam. He ran his tongue along his fangs as Sam met his glare with one of her own.

A heavy tension settled about the room. Tsuel's hackles rose, and Sam tried not to take it too personally when Tsuel whisked the sleeping Leif out of her arms. Danny stepped forward between Sam and Icefang, his cold rage piercing the tension as if it was nothing. She couldn't see his face, but she was certain his eyes were glowing bright with the same fire he'd obliterated the draugrs with earlier. She could feel it in the frost that nibbled at her exposed flesh. She shivered, resisting the urge to pull the furs up to her chin.

Icefang paid him no mind. His brow was heavy, shrouding his furred face with shadow as he stepped forward, entering the room. He didn't look away from Sam for even a moment. "Peace, young prince," he growled. "I have no interest in severing honor today, nor will I ever."

Danny didn't relent at all. A sound that wasn't at all human seemed to be rumbling from his chest. Not quite a growl, but more like a deep humming noise. The temperature of the room plummeted significantly.

Elle touched his shoulder. "Easy, Danny, before you freeze the human."

"Aye, I will not hurt your human," Icefang said. His glare shifted to Frostbite. "And you shall not train her in battle. That is not our way."

"But Icefang, she must learn," Frostbreath said. "Surely you can see that?"

Despite still being trapped in the stupid cradle, Sam squared her shoulders and held her chin high, refusing to look away from Icefang. She had once feared him, desperately, but those days were long gone. She returned his stare with every roaring flame of her inner fire. Fire that burned cold, with embers that stirred and flickered and turned into searing ice. She would not balk. Nor would she yield. Not to him, or to anyone else.

Icefang's bright white fangs gleamed in the light as his muzzle curled into something that resembled a grin. A savage one, sure, but a grin, nonetheless. "Because it is I who she shall learn from," he announced.

"Only if she agrees to it," Danny snapped. He turned to face Sam, and she was surprised that his eyes were, indeed, glowing bright with anger. He looked fucking pissed. "You don't have to agree. He about strangled you a few months ago."

Icefang shrugged. "I do not apologize for doing what I thought was best at the time, frost child."

Sam narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Fine. But I want something else now, too."

"And what is that, dear cub?" Tsuel asked.

"I'm done with all the secret bullshit around here. I want to know everything. No more secrets." She looked directly at Frostbite. "I want to see the Cave of Writings."

She expected his rebuttal; had prepared for it with her retort at the ready. But instead, Frostbite sighed again, his expression weary, and said, "I agree that it is time for you to meet your destiny. I shall take you."

Her brows rose into her hairline. "Really? When?" Before he could respond, she added, "And if you say 'when you are ready' one more time I might actually explode."

"Soon, Sam, I assure you," Frostbite said, giving her a strange look. "But first I must attend to some pressing matters."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I must learn how the draugrs made it here without our knowledge and attacked my kingdom in broad daylight, for one. And I must consult the other tribes."

"They attacked from the East, father," Elle said. "Timberfrost was on a hunt when he saw them crawl in from the sea."

"Oh, Ancients," Tsuel breathed, "I hope the coastal towns remain unscathed."

"Danny and I can fly over and check them out," Elle said. "We can be back by the time the cryocrystals are answered."

Frostbite nodded. "That is good thinking, daughter."

Beyond sick of sitting in the cradle, Sam started to swing her legs free when Danny offered her his hand. She gave him a flat look but allowed him to ease her to the floor. She was still dressed aside from her giant furred jacket, but the absence of her outermost layer had her shivering, until Danny retrieved it from Sleetjaw and handed it to her, which she took from him gratefully. Too sore to dress herself, she merely draped it over her shoulders, tightening the arms around her neck. She stretched, smothering the urge to wince as her muscles groaned in protest.

Icefang, despite the ghoulish grin he'd given her moments ago, had reverted to glaring again. She asked him in her most charming monotone, "So, when do we start?"

His muzzle wrinkled slightly. "Immediately, if it pleases you, human."

"Sam, you have only just woken! Give yourself the night, at least!" Tsuel gasped.

"The dead don't sleep," Sam said without thinking, then winced when she remembered there were, in fact, ghosts present.

They didn't seem bothered. Elle snorted, while Danny said, "They do. Sort of. But draugrs aren't just ghosts, they're something else. And you're right, Sam, they don't sleep. They'll be back."

Sam nodded as if she'd been expecting that. "That's why I have to be ready for when they do."

"Your dedication is commendable, human girl," Frostbite said, "but I must insist that you start your training on the morrow. I have need for Icefang presently, just as you have need for rest. You may start then."

Sam rolled her eyes and sighed . "Killjoy."

Frostbite rumbled with laughter. Then one of his ears flicked, as if in thought, and he turned and appraised Sam with an unreadable expression.

"What is it now?" Sam asked in a sigh.

"Perhaps your rest shall wait, after all."

She gave him a look of feigned boredom. "Oh?"

"I am about to consult the cryocrystals," Frostbite said. "I would like for you to join. If that is agreeable to you, that is."

"The hell is a cryocrystal?" she deadpanned.

"It is a device used by my kind to communicate," Frostbite said. "It is how I stay in contact with the chieftains of the other villages here."

Her bored expression cracked as she was unable to contain her shock. "And you want me to go?"

Frostbite nodded. "I have kept you from the truth long enough. You have proven more than worthy of my trust."

She often forgot how much larger Frostbite was in comparison to the other yeti. He towered above them all. Sam had to crane her neck to hold his gaze as he approached her, and with the knuckles of his icy hand, he trailed them gently down her cheek, not unlike she'd seen him do for Elle. She was so taken aback by the gesture that she nearly recovered from his reach.

"What you have done is greatly commendable," Frostbite said. "As you are an outsider here, you have yet to truly grasp the significance, but I assure you that it is nothing short of extraordinary." His gaze drifted, settling somewhere behind her. "A cub's life is precious. We treasure them more than anything else."

She wasn't crying—she wasn't—but her throat tightened as she ran the sleeve of her woolen shirt over her burning cheeks. "Someone had to save her."

"And you would do it again," Frostbite said.

It wasn't a question, she knew, but she still nodded anyway. "Of course I would."

"You would have given your life to save hers."

"I—" Sam started, but the words caught in her throat. Suddenly, she couldn't meet any of their gazes anymore. She stared at her feet instead. "Yes . . . I would. She's just a kid. She didn't deserve to die."

A single frozen claw brushed under Sam's chin, tilting her face to meet the eyes of the Yeti King.

"My brother is correct," Frostbite said. "We shall never forget what you have done. Freyja and her mother, Glacia, shall never forget what you have done. But know this." His eyes hardened, boring into hers. "Do not be so flippant with your own life, human girl, for yours is precious, too."

She didn't understand the feeling that burned her ears red. It had been a long, long time since she'd been chastised like some rebellious teen. She stepped out of his grasp and scoffed a little. "Yeah, yeah, your precious Writings, I know. I get it. Can't fuck with the prophecy, right?"

"This is not about the Writings, child," Frostbite said, almost warningly. "This is about those of us who have grown to care for you."

Sam swallowed the lump in her throat as she glanced around the room then. Frostbreath and Tsuel smiled softly at her, while Leif wriggled in his mother's arms. Sleetjaw dipped his chin fondly as her gaze swept over him. Icefang regarded her stone-faced, his thick arms crossed, but he didn't appear hostile for once, though he still seemed to be glaring at her. Elle was now sitting on the lip of the ice cradle, legs swinging, as she, too, offered Sam a tentative grin. And Danny . . .

Oh, Danny was pissed.

When their gazes met, his eyes narrowed on her, and the green of them flared ever so slightly. He stayed quiet, but she had a feeling he'd be ripping her a new one the next time they were alone. Whatever. Let him be angry with her. She wouldn't apologize for doing what she thought was right.

Perhaps she and Icefang had something in common, after all. Two unapologetic assholes.

Not wanting to dwell on that thought for too long, Sam cleared her throat. "I'm . . . uh, sorry, if I made you guys worry. I didn't think . . ."

"That we'd care?" Danny deadpanned.

Shit, if that wasn't hitting the nail right on the head. She gave him a withered look but found she couldn't refute it. Her silence was deafening.

"Oh, dear cub," Tsuel said as she rocked Leif in her arms. "You mean more to us than you will ever know."

"I concur!" Frostbreath agreed.

"And I as well," Frostbite said. "You may not be a daughter of the ice, but you are still a daughter of the Realms," his smile turned soft, "and therefore, you are a daughter of ours. We all think of you as our own."

Damn them. Her cheeks flushed and she wanted nothing more than for this conversation to be over. Her eyes fell to the floor and stayed there. She wiped at her face again.

"Eeesh," Elle drawled, "Can't you guys see this big emotional conversation is making her uncomfortable?" With an exaggerated shudder, she jumped from the ice cradle and strode across the room, rainbows dancing along her cloak and hair as she passed beneath them, until she reached Sam's side and nudged her with her elbow. "How about we go back to the easy things, like winning this war, eh? The hall of cryocrystals is pretty neat. And you get to hear all the bickering the chieftains do, which is prime entertainment, if you ask me."

"Entertainment?" Danny asked his twin from Sam's other side.

"We live in a frozen wasteland, Danny, what in the Ancients do you expect me to find entertainment in if it's not Hailclaw and his bemoaning?"

"I'd rather listen to Hailclaw complain about trading pelts than to Freezera's constant remarks about the weather," Danny said. He arched an eyebrow at Sam. "Did you know it snows here?"

Elle snorted, and in a nasally voice that was probably mocking the aforementioned Freezera, she said, "The snow flies every hour while the wind arrives steadily from the West. The sun shines brightly on the morrow. The snowflakes today are softer than those of the previous moon." She rolled her eyes. "She does know we get the same weather, right?"

Sam knew what the ghost twins were doing, and she was grateful for them. She let herself smile a little.

"Cubs," Frostbite admonished, though he appeared to be stifling laughter. He sobered quickly, his features turning grave. "I fear I must end our conversation here. There is much to be done. It is most imperative that we learn how the other villages have fared, and we must prepare for Sam's journey to the Cave of Writings."

Sam felt her heart summersault in her chest. As much as she loathed the idea of some alien prophecy set to determine her fate or destiny or whatever, she couldn't deny there was a large part of her that was curious, too. After being teased with crumbs of information over the past few months, she was starved for some goddamned answers.

"We should probably head out too, Danny," Elle said. "Do a quick flyover so we can be back in time for the cryocrystals."

Danny nodded. "We should start with Stonethrow and work our way out. It shouldn't take long to check the coast."

Elle grinned. "I like the way you think."

Frostbite turned to Sam then. He offered her his warmest grin and gestured towards the entryway. "Shall you be joining us today, child?"

Three months ago, as she'd wandered the dilapidated ruins of Amity Park, Sam would never have believed the turns her life would soon take. How, in a bizarre twist of fate, she'd end up whisked to an alien world of ice and frozen beasts. A world of secrets and ambiguity, but also of beauty and wonder, too. That things like prophecies, royalty, and hope existed. That it wasn't all just some elaborate lie fabricated by her dreams due to a reality had become too harrowing.

She remembered her hopelessness. Like that little sapling in the park, struggling to reach the sky as it gasped for a single stray beam of sunlight. Her mother, withering away into bones and dust. The swirl of grey as the compound residents drifted through the halls, nothing more than ghosts themselves. Food that was barely food, but they still choked it down, because it was something to stave off the clawing in their stomachs. The fear of death, and the putrid stink of misery.

But it hadn't all been bad. How many times had she laughed with Tucker at that long table in the cafeteria? How many late nights had she spent in the Fentonworks lab, chatting over cups of steaming—albeit shitty—coffee? Jack and Maddie and their warmth. Jazz, and her endearing nosiness. Barbarra and his dark humor. Dash and Kwan and their camaraderie, despite them being the dumbest jocks she'd ever met. Those few times that Sam would find a particularly interesting newspaper and she'd see the faintest flicker in her mom's eyes.

It all meant something to her. The good and the bad. Because the world was what she made of it.

Sam nodded to the Yeti King. "Lead the way, Frosty."

end of part I


A/N: Hi, remember when I said I was ahead of the next update? Life said, "LOL, Bitch, hold my drama." But hey, we're here. Better late than never, right?

Can I just say how crazy it is to be here? Like, this is so wild. We are at THE tipping point for the plot. FINALLY. I am so freaking excited, you guys.

Buuuuuuuuuut. I have news. Because this is the end of Part One, I think I'm going to go a hiatus for a bit. Not a long one, as I am very anxious to get the next chapters out, but I think I need it. I need my life to settle down and I think my brain just needs the break. But who knows, I may just keep posting out of excitement. We'll see. Just wanted you guys to have a heads up so you're not worried about the lack of updates if it does happen.

But I'm DYING to know what y'all think? Let me know! As always, thanks again for everyone who reads here. It means SO MUCH.

Until the next one!