Gathering Frost (Once Upon A Curse Book 1) (10 page)

"What?"

"You wanted to know why I took you, why I captured you? Because of what you just said. I needed to know if it is possible for an adult to be released from the spell, to be freed from the queen, to learn to feel. You've crossed over beyond her reach, and it looks like maybe, the effects are starting to wear off."

"You mean?" I trail off into silence, afraid to say it out loud.

Maybe I am human after all. Maybe I can be free. 

But I don't need to speak the words, the hope, because I can see that Asher knows them already. That he felt them too, years ago in his own childhood. And I can tell that he believes them.

I break contact first.

I want to believe, I truly do, but part of me cannot. I dread that the queen is playing a trick on me, is dangling everything I've ever dreamed of before my eyes, waiting until the perfect time to snatch it all away.

Still, I promise myself that I will try.

"Jade?" Asher questions. I do not turn around. I'm not sure if I can face the steadfast faith in his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Can you promise me something?"

I nod, still not spinning, not daring to even speak. We've just reached the end. The line rests before us, and I know Asher is going to cross it, is going to drag me with him. After his words, nothing will be the same.

"No one here knows I'm the prince. They believe I was a servant in the queen's castle and that is why I know so much. If they knew who I really was, they would never look at me the same way. They would always doubt me. Please, I'm trusting you to be silent."

There is that word.

Trust.

It shoves into my back, pushes inside of me, fills me up.

I don't want to look at him, but I do. The stars in his eyes sparkle. His face holds no ounce of mockery, no smile, no frown, just an openness that welcomes me, that urges me to believe him.

I want to tell him I do not deserve his trust. That I did not earn it. That I cannot have it.

I want to tell him that the queen sent me for this exact moment, because she knew his gentle soul ached for someone who understood him, who he could save like he did himself.

I want to tell him I'm a liar. That in the end I will betray him. That I can only bring him pain.

All these things surge to my lips, but I silence them. Because there is a new flame sparking to life in my chest, a fire I do not want to put out, a burn slowly melting the ice encasing my insides. I don’t know what it is, but I know that if I tell Asher the truth, the fire will die and I will never find it again.

"I promise."

We have crossed over to the other side, to a world entirely new to me, one that scares yet also excites me. And I know we can never go back.

Asher leaves without another word.

I collapse onto my bed, drained.

More than anything, I want to believe that I chose this, that I am worthy of the trust I was just bestowed, that I will live up to the hope in Asher's eyes.

That I can be human.

But a darkness lingers at the back of my mind, whispering in a musical voice that everything is falling perfectly into place.

"Jade?"

A voice I do not quite recognize interrupts my solace. I am lying still on my bed, staring at the wall, utterly conflicted. Mental turmoil has exhausted my body, a sensation I am unused to, but it is not entirely unwelcome.

Still, I come alive at the sound of that voice, wanting the distraction. So I turn, surprised to see Maddy at the door.

She is slumped against the frame, noticeably lacking the energetic bubble I assumed perpetually floated with her body. But her expression is muted, hesitant. Her voice was low, which is why I did not recognize it.

"Hey." I sit up, nodding that she is welcome to come in. But she remains by the door. I search for fear in her eyes, worried she thinks me contagious, that the curse can spread.

Maddy opens her mouth. Closes it. Shuffles her feet, anxious. Then four words slip through her lips. "Jade, I'm really sorry."

I inhale, breath swelling with my heart, which seems to expand in my chest. Looking up under hooded brows, her gaze meets mine, waiting. I realize she is not afraid of me, she is afraid of being rejected.

People do not apologize where I'm from. Years of being bullied by my peers, beat down by the boys, given no aid by the commander, and I have never once received remorseful words. I have learned not to expect them. I do not know how to accept them.

My natural instinct is to disconnect, to ignore.

I had already written Maddy off. She thought me a zombie, so I deemed her unworthy of my time. Done. Finished.

But watching her now, I am unsure. And that is enough to make me want to hear more.

"Sorry for what?" I question, trying to keep the steel from my voice.

Her expression brightens just slightly and she steps free from the wall, moving imperceptibly farther into the room.

"For what I said, I mean, calling you a zombie. It was stupid, and I didn't mean it the way it sounded, and I could tell that I hurt your feelings, which means that you totally have them, and that I was wrong, and…"

Maddy trails off, antsy as she shifts her weight from side to side. The energy in her body starts to build, unused to being suppressed for so long.

I'm not sure if Asher sent her to test me, to push on my newfound emotions, to see if she can ignite a different flare. But I don't care. This isn't about him, not completely. I promised myself that I would try to discard the monster, to act the human, to live up to the trust I've been bestowed.

This is my first trial.

Even though it is hard, I lick my lips, forcing unfamiliar words to my voice. "I forgive you."

The mood in the room shifts, zipping to life as a smile widens Maddy's cheeks and she jumps closer to me. My mood follows, soaring higher, feeling lighter.

"Thank you," she gushes, grasping my upper arm in her hand. "I was hoping you would say that. And just in case, you know, you forgave me, I had an idea planned. Just a suggestion, really, I mean you don't need to listen to me."

"No, please," I say, feeling caught in her whirlwind but not bothered by it. The opposite in fact. Her energy bubbles over, teaching my calm body how to feel alive.

"Okay, great." She tugs on my hand, bringing me to the floor where we both sit across from one another with legs folded. A stack of cards almost magically appears in her hands and she deftly shuffles, weaving the cards in an out with a grace I didn’t think her frenetic body possessed. But her fingers are nimble, focused.

"Well, I was thinking," she says, not bothering to watch the cards and instead focusing her attention on me. "It's not so much that you can't connect with people, but more like you don't know how. I mean, Asher's told us about the way life was for him, how people didn’t seem to care about each other. But that doesn’t mean you can't, not really, more like you've just never been allowed to."

"Okay," I say slowly, squirming a little, not sure I like where this is going.

"Anyway, the best way to feel connected to someone is to talk with them and to open up, you know? At least, I think so. But you don't really seem like the sharing type." Maddy pauses, eyes going wide. "I mean, no offense."

I shrug. "I'm not."

A sigh rushes from her body as the excitement returns. "So basically, I thought we could play a game. All the girls used to play this when we were younger, you know, to try to get someone to confess to a secret crush or admit something embarrassing, you know."

I don't, but I remain silent. Growing up, other little girls were not my friends, not my companions. We did not play together. I've certainly never whispered secret confessions into their ears. 

"But," Maddy continues, unaware of the way my thoughts have wandered, "we would play just to learn more about each other, to you know, get to know each other. Like friends."

A twinge heats my spine. Nerves. They tingle as they travel through my body, and I recognize my own fear surging to life.

"What game?" I ask, throat dry. After the fight with Asher, I'm not so sure if games are a great idea anymore.

"It’s really simple," Maddy urges, cutting the deck and delivering half of the cards into my sweating palm. "Basically, we each flip a card over. Whoever has the higher card gets to ask a question, and the loser has to tell the truth. If it's just numbers, the questions have to be yes or no. But if you win with a face card, then the loser has to actually explain. And we can play for however long we want, I mean, it almost never lasts until the cards run out, cause someone used to get upset and run away."

Maddy laughs suddenly, leaning in closer, whispering to me. "We used to get so mad, as kids I mean. Because you would lose to a face card, and then there was always one girl who would make you confess which boy you wanted to kiss or, you know, some other nonsense and the loser would start crying. I think the adults wanted to ban it for a while."

As Maddy shakes her head at the memory, I try to envision such a scene, of girls hanging out together, plotting to unveil each other's secrets. Torturing each other in a way only those with feelings could really be tormented. My childhood, emotionless as it was, doesn't seem so bad.

But I watch Maddy, noting how her eyes crinkle and glitter with enjoyment, how they sparkle against her dark skin. None of my memories incur such a reaction, none since the earthquake anyway.

My hands itch to begin, and at the same time, we both flip a card.

I win, my seven beating her three.

"Are you happy?" I ask. I'm not sure why, it is just the first thing that pops out.

"Yes," Maddy says without hesitation.

We flip. I win again—ten over eight. A smile spreads my lips as I get an odd pleasure at the sight.

"Do you believe in the resistance?"

"Yes." Again, not a drop of insecurity.

This time I present a queen, overruling her four. Luck, it seems, is finally on my side. "What do you do for the resistance?"

"Right now, I'm a little too young to really do much. I go to the surface to look for supplies. I scout sometimes. But I'm training to become a doctor, like a healer if you don't remember what that is."

"Why?" I ask, curious. All my life, I've been a fighter. I've never once thought about keeping another person alive.

But Maddy shakes her head, sly. "You have to win another card first."

We draw. I lose, but not to a face card.

"Do you remember your life, before the earthquake I mean?"

I pause. Parts of it used to filter into my mind, hazy, distorted. But the longer I remain with the rebels, the clearer my memories have become. My mother's face floats before my eyes, more exact than I've seen it before, and I sort of remember her—the way being around her made life better, the way it used to feel like home. "Yes."

I lose again. This time to a jack.

Maddy pauses, biting her lip, and I can tell she does not want to waste her opportunity to glimpse past my façade, to open me up. "Have you ever been in love?"

I know what she means. With a boy, with a man. In truth, I've never even kissed one. I've never wanted to. But that is not the only sort of love there is. "I think once a long time ago, I loved my mother and she loved me. That's probably not what you mean, but it's the only memory I have. Sometimes, when I think of her, I feel it still, a little spark that pulls me toward her."

I blink, recoiling and shutting my mouth. Those words have never passed my lips, have never been said out loud. But Maddy looks on encouragingly, and I force myself not to turn away, to continue on this path no matter how scary.

We flip again.

"Have you ever been in love?" I ask, turning her own question against her.

"Yes." A secret tugs her lips upward.

Urgent, I flip. I win again.

"With a boy?"

"Yes."

"Are you still in love?" I ask, cursing myself for the lack of face cards. I want a real explanation.

"Yes."

I sit back, rocked by a heaviness filling my lungs, forming into a clump in my throat. My eyes sting.

But I lose the next round, silencing me and I sigh, wondering what this tightness is, knowing my answer will not come soon.

"Have you ever met the queen?"

"Yes," I say but empty my mind. I do not want to think of that woman.

"What was your favorite part of life back in Kardenia?" Maddy asks, taking advantage of a face card win with a king.

"The wall," I say quickly, no speck of doubt in my mind. "Walking the wall always felt very peaceful, sort of like I was alone, stuck in between two different worlds. And beyond the wall, exploring the city, I liked that too. The buildings, the museums, the library. All of it just waiting for me."

Another question whirls in her mind, flashing behind her eyes, but she holds back, abiding by the rules.

"You can ask," I tell her, putting my cards to the side.

"What is New York like? Now, I mean, abandoned and everything. I've seen pictures from before and scenes from movies and things."

"Still majestic, in an odd sort of way. I'm told it used to smell, from all of the people who died during the earthquake, but it's been a long time since then. A lot of the guards still don't like it out there, but I do. There's something beautiful about the destruction. Not the broken parts, but when you find a place that is untouched, unchanged, like a moment trapped in time." I shrug, unsure of how to explain it.

But it's like the library—the windows are broken, the chandeliers have fallen to the ground, the walls are covered in grime. But, my breath still catches when I enter. Or when I happen across an apartment that hasn't been gazed upon in more than a decade. There are still clothes hanging in the closet, still dishes in the washer, still an unmade bed, and it feels like I've found something secret, as though the world itself is dreaming.

There is a different sort of magic that lingers in the old buildings, pockets of wonder I can't begin to explain.

But Maddy accepts my words, as lacking as they were, and her eyes blank just a little as she tries to imagine the scene. In turn, I wonder how odd it must be to live life underground when the whole world waits just a few feet overhead.

"Can I ask you something?"

My words startle her, but Maddy instantly nods her head, multiple times, and her face lights up. Her cards, I notice, have also been discarded. But that was the whole point after all.

Two questions linger in the back of my mind, but I choose the easier one. We have left talk of love behind, and my mind feels clearer, less constricted. I will ask her about it eventually, when I am ready, when the idea does not overwhelm me.

"Why do you want to be a doctor?"

"My father," she says quietly, barely a whisper. A gentle expression stretches across her face, smoothes it, relaxes it, until I almost do not recognize her. The pent up energy is submerged under whatever memory holds her captive. "My dad, he was an army doctor."

"Was?"

Maddy looks up, eyes downturned just slightly. "I mean, I guess he still could be, but I haven't seen him since the earthquake. He was part of the original teams that marched on Kardenia, you know, back in the early days before we really knew what we were fighting. I don't think any of them returned."