Page 7 of The Prince and the Ice King

“Reardon of House Thom, prince and future king of Emerald.” He reached instinctively to take her hand, but she drew back.

“Best not do that. My skin is as deadly as my brother’s. All I touch turns to gold.”

Reardon looked on her in further awe, but still, he wasn’t afraid. “You’re magical, clearly, but you couldn’t have been born like this.”

Again, the Ice King snorted, standing to his full height, which made him twice the size of his sister, like some massive ogre. “Our mother would have been quite the sight if we had been.”

“Don’t be rude, Jack. This castle is cursed, sweet prince,” Josie said. “Don’t you know that?”

“They know nothing,” the king spat, falling back to all fours with a slam and shudder of the room. “Their stories became half-truths and then lies since the curse took us.”

“I believe you,” Reardon professed. “I suspected as much for years, that whatever you truly are must have been lost to time.”

“Careful,” the Ice King warned, for Reardon had made to appeal as close to them as possible with a frantic dash forward, yet he understood the need for distance. “I’m still debating whether to add you to my garden of statues.”

“You try to frighten me, Majesty, but it’s clear you won’t risk harming me.”

“No? I will not hesitate to kill an enemy.”

“And I am not one.” Reardon took another step forward, and while there was plenty of space to protect Reardon, they both leaned away, confirming his beliefs. “I only wish to see my friend and know that he is safe.

“Or… has he become cursed too?” Suddenly Reardon wondered if he was also susceptible and already becoming something deadly at his touch.

“The sacrifices do not join in our sorrows,” Josie assuaged him. “Only those of us who were here in the beginning are cursed. But there is one boon the offerings receive.”

“Josie—”

“No one ages within these walls.”

“You mean, the sacrifices from almost two hundred years are all still here and as young as the day they arrived?”

“See what you’ve done.” The Ice King stomped around Reardon. “He’ll want to stay now.”

“And why shouldn’t he? He’s this year’s offering, isn’t he?”

“He isn’t—”

“Come, see for yourself.” She motioned Reardon toward the doors to venture ahead of her. “They’re all eager to meet the new blood.”

“Josie.”

“Hush, Jack. I’ll bring him back to you once he sees his friend is safe.”

Trusting that the Ice King would not freeze him from behind, Reardon moved as indicated, ginger in his steps, though the closer he got to the doors, the less ice there was to disrupt his footing.

Josie had left the doors open, giant things, three times the height of a man, with the ceiling even higher in this master chamber of the castle. Reardon had chosen wisely, assuming the Ice King would reside where the most ice gathered along the walls outside. Now he found himself assaulted by a surprising but comforting warmth as soon as he crossed the threshold to leave.

He stepped out onto the landing of an immense staircase leading down. As he began to descend, Josie floated out after him to get in front and lead the way—and she did indeed float, for her feet did not touch the ground.

“Which friend is yours?” she asked over her shoulder, keeping pace a few lengths in front of him. “A recent offering?”

“From last year. Barclay, House of Numara.”

“Barclay?” She stopped, and Reardon had to catch himself from walking into her. He worried for a moment that something was wrong, that something had happened to Barclay, but she smiled. “Of course.Reardon,” she said knowingly and continued on without another word.

There were other landings they passed, leading to hallways and more doors, but she brought them down and down, around and around, winding toward the ground floor, where the din of the some two-hundred attendants of this castle could be heard wondering where the sacrifice could be.

By the bottom of the staircase, Reardon’s hair and clothing were wet from the frost having melted. He felt like a drowned dog, grimy from almost three days travel and restless sleep. It was as warm in this castle as any other, maybe cozier than it should be, considering the chill of the Ice King’s chamber.

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