Page 24 of This Frozen Heart

“Thank you for your generosity,” Kay says, startling my focus back to him. He is now glancing up at the Snow Queen and looking entirely unconcerned.

Is he preparing to offermeup? I should have considered that option and acted in self-defense.

“But I must decline your offer,” Kay says. “You see, I don’t have a heart to give, and I require hers. So, with all due respect, I bid you farewell.”

“You dare challenge me?!” The choir becomes a near-deafening crescendo.

It hurts so much that I don’t even notice that Kay has put his arm around me. At least not until he is pulling my back flush against his front and he is dragging us both down to the snow.

The winds howl above us. Kay’s arms around me that have me leaning backward with him.

And then it is the pull of the ledge dragging us down the precipice.

Chapter Twelve

Kay

It’s a relief when Gerta’s shrill screaming overpowers the choir echoing around the Snow Queen. It means we’re putting distance between us and our pursuer. It also means that Gerta hasn’t gone flying out of the makeshift shed I crafted for us while she still slept.

Most importantly, it gives me something to focus on besides the fact that we are plummeting backward. The only thing keeping us from freefall is a piece of bark that keeps bouncing on its downward path.

But panicking will only hinder our chances of survival, so I focus on the important things. I keep a tight grip on Gerta, my fingers entwining together to keep her in place. My legs are both braced on the lips of the bark to keep us seated.

Honestly, it’s not so bad as long as I keep focusing on the important thing . . .

Our bark must run into a stone, because it flips around. Suddenly, I can see the ledge we’re coming dangerously close to careening over. At the speed we’re going, we’re going to fly off the mountain with no hope of returning to our path.

Gerta begins screaming anew— I hadn’t even noticed she stopped with the howling of the wind in my cold ears.

Holding her tighter, I lean us both backward, so that half my body is hanging off the bark and helping to slow the bark. Ifwe hit another stone, I can only hope that it injures me rather than kills me outright since I cannot exactly heal from that.

Speaking of injury . . .

To help with the goal of slowing down, I rip Gerta’s knife out of my shoulder. Then I sink it into the cliff we’re sliding across.

We keep skidding forward, but our speed is definitely decreasing.

Then the bark goes flying away. All of me falls into cold, wet snow— except my legs. Those dangle over nothing.

I lift my head slightly and see nothing but the sky beyond me.

Gerta is still on top of me, pinned in place by my crossed legs. She has stopped screaming and is gasping on air now. Then she rolls over and starts crawling upward.

Once I’m free, I do the same, my head spinning so fast I’m nervous I’ll topple off the mountain if I stand. It doesn’t help that I’m watching my own blood dot the snow as I crawl.

“I can’t believe we survived that,” Gerta gasps, clinging to her fur cap. “Didwe survive that?”

“If this is the Third Heaven, the priests have some explaining to do.” I collapse on my back and stare upward.

The sky is clear of clouds and the Snow Queen. Is she going to pursue us, or would that be below her— figuratively as well as literally? Does she even think there’s anything left to pursue?

“I can’t believe you did that.” Gerta chokes on something like a laugh. “You could have killed us!” She giggles. “You almostdidkill us!” Gerta collapses onto the snow, laughing until she’s wheezing.

I stare up at her, hoping this fit will pass soon. When I was trained for how to deal with hysterics, I thought it was superfluous because I always keep the panic on the inside. I see now that knowing how to deal with others’ hysteria is a helpful tool to have.

“However, I didn’t kill us,” I say calmly, hoping my even tone soothes her nerves. “We are both of us still alive.”

Gerta’s gaze falls on me and her eyes widen. “Barely! Look at your shoulder!”

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