Gathering Frost (Once Upon A Curse Book 1) (24 page)

"Jade!"

Is death so quick? Has Asher come to welcome me at the gates of heaven? Or have I been banished to hell, cursed to hear his voice in my head for all eternity, knowing I will never touch him again?

A warm hand lands on my cheek. Darkness surrounds me. But it gradually fades as fingers dig into my shoulders, shaking me. Asher continues to call my name.

"Jade!"

"Can you hear me?"

"Jade!"

Pain explodes in my forehead, a sharp point just above my ear. But despite it, I begin to laugh, to cry, to weep. All at the same time.

I am alive.

What a bitter realization that is as Asher's face becomes clearer, looking down into my eyes, worry evident on his features. I blink. He lifts me into his arms, hugging me into his chest, crying, laughing too. But I know his sighs are ones of relief. Mine are of dread. I'm not sure if I can pull that trigger again, not now, not when Asher is looking at me with love in his eyes.

"What happened?" I murmur, awed, confused.

"The gun misfired," he tells me, ripping it from my hands and tossing it to the far side of the room. "But the barrel still slammed into your skull from the kickback and knocked you down. I was so scared, Jade, I thought you were dead."

Asher pulls back, flattening my hair to my head, looking at me as though I might crumble at any moment, as though part of him believes I'm a ghost. But through the magic, I watch as his aura begins to change, from the deep purple of relief to a maroon filled with love to a brilliant red ripe with anger.

I wince.

"You said you wouldn't do anything stupid, you promised," Asher scolds, face harsh in the candlelight. "You almost shot yourself. If not for a mechanical malfunction, you'd be dead. What do you call that?"

"Honorable," I murmur. The red-hot blaze around him only ignites brighter. Before he can open his mouth to yell, I ask, "How are you awake? The queen said only magic could revive you."

Asher rolls his eyes. "As usual, the queen lied. I got knocked out when I hit the wall. I think I have a concussion or something, the room is spinning quite a bit actually. I thought I was just reeling in anger, but now I'm not so sure."

"Lie down," I order. Asher listens, placing his body next to mine on the floor. Our faces still gaze at each other while we remain still on our sides, as though in bed and not in the middle of so much destruction.

"Jade," he whispers, voice wavering. His aura has turned the mocha color of fear. "Don't scare me like that again."

"I have to," I tell him, shaking my head. "The magic is inside of me, Asher. Even now, I want to rip your emotions from your heart, I want to tear them away."

And I do. The magic is pulling at my fingertips, urging me to touch his skin, to remove every ounce of warmth from his body and claim it as my own. But this is Asher. And I could not bear to take his soul from him. Not yet anyway. Eventually though, the magic will win.

Asher takes a deep breath, reaching his hand to my cheek even as I recoil, worried that his touch would be too much to resist. "I told you before, there's another way."

"I'm not going to risk all these people—"

"You won't," he interrupts. I gather my courage, looking into his eyes as they hold me captive. Hope. I'm not sure if it will be my salvation or my demise.

"Asher," I plead, begging him to release me, to let it end.

"No, Jade, listen. I realized it after you left me in my cell. This whole time, the answer has been so obvious, it's been staring us in the face. All we need to do is break the curse."

"Break the curse?" I repeat slowly. I don't understand. "That's what I'm trying to do. I need to kill myself to lift the queen's magic, now my magic."

Asher shakes his head, leaning closer, imploring. "Not that curse, Jade. The original curse. A while ago, I told you magic always starts with a curse. But I was too fixed on my path to realize what that statement meant. It wasn't until I was faced with your death that I understood. The curse brought the magic to my family, so only ending the curse can take it away. Do you understand?"

"I don't have to die?" I ask, shivering, not really clear.

"No," he smiles, shaking his head. "You see, I thought death was the only way, but for the entirely wrong reason. I thought it was because the magic would have no new body to enter, but that's so wrong. If it wanted to, the magic could go anywhere. But the curse, the curse is tied to the bloodline. If you die, the curse would be broken because there would be no heir to inherit it. But there's more than one way to break a curse."

"What's the other way?" I ask. My fingers ache to touch his skin, to feel the happiness burning his cheek, turning his aura a wonderful yellow, as though he were the sun. Or maybe a guardian angel. In paintings, the angels are always depicted in a halo of soft ambient light, too good, too bright for Earth's dull atmosphere. 

Asher sits up slowly, leaning over me, placing his hands on either side of my head so I cannot escape. I roll onto my back, gazing up at him. Every nerve in my body is alert. The magic stops pulling for his skin, stops yearning to steal his light. Instead, it stills, waiting with me, wondering if it has finally found its freedom.

"My family's curse was to never find love, to never understand it, to use the magic to take what can never be given to us. Now you're the heir, so it is your curse. But don't you see? We already broke it."

Asher's fingers brush the hair from my face, caressing my skin. He leans down, placing a soft kiss on my forehead, on my nose, on my lips.

"I love you," Asher whispers.

My heart bursts.

His words have shattered it, busted through the ice, the frost, releasing the heat inside. The magic breaks free, ripping through my chest, lifting me partially off the ground as it expels from the cage my body had become. For what feels like the first time in my life, I don't fight. I remain passive, limp, letting everything drain away.

Sparks ripple the air around me, brilliant white light, swirling with the wind. The higher it flies, the fainter it becomes—twinkling magic returning to where it belongs. Free, as I always yearned to be. As I finally am.

My eyes find Asher, watching as the aura around his body mutes, fades away, and then entirely disappears. He still looks like an angel to me.

"Asher," I whisper, voice hoarse as my hand rises to cup his cheek, "I love you."

He smirks, as though he knew my secret all along. I knew his too.

In a flash, our lips are a mere inch apart. I wonder if the burn will be stronger now that I know exactly how he feels, if it is even possible. Already my toes tingle with anticipation, my breath comes uneven, my heart flutters girlishly in my chest.

I close the gap just as a cough sounds at the door.

"Uh, guys?"

Asher and I break apart in a rush. He nearly falls to the floor in surprise and I sit up, narrowly missing his head.

Maddy stands in the doorway, face absently confused, totally blank. But not an emotionless emptiness, more like her mind has cleared, leaving her unsure. My fault, I realize. I completely forgot I used the magic to call her here.

"I, uh…" She shuffles her feet. "I feel like I was coming here for a reason, but, like, I have no idea why all of a sudden."

"Maddy," I breathe, releasing all of the pressure from my chest. This is not the girl I left on the street a week before. Her voice is full of life, full of the energy that first scared me but I have since come to love, which can only mean one thing.

The curse is broken.

The magic really is gone.

I leave Asher on the ground and run to Maddy, hugging her close. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"Really?" she asks, hugging me back and then leaning away to peer at Asher over my shoulder. "I mean, I was a little worried I interrupted something. You know…" Her cheeks grow pink, and I do know exactly what she's thinking.

But I look over my shoulder at Asher, at his disheveled hair. His eyes are shining brighter than I've ever seen them, as though they hold a magic all their own. We smile at each other, one mind thinking the exact same thing.

"Don't worry." I turn back to Maddy, trying to contain my sudden glee. "Asher and I have all the time in the world."

The city that never sleeps has come back to life.

The curse has only been lifted for a few days, but already the change is palpable. A thrilling charge fills the air, the noise of chatter, of laughter, of cries. Every day a family is reunited, a loved one is found. Every day, the people come more and more back to life.

And the electricity has started working again. Many of the old buildings still don't have power. They are too broken down, too far decayed. The original grid has been completely destroyed by the earthquake and by time. But the rebels brought a few solar panels with them when they marched, so we are connected to the outside world through radios and a few satellite feeds. The calls are nonstop.

Rebels from around the world are reaching out, in awe, in excitement, wondering how we managed to defeat the magic. Asher and I have told the story a hundred times, and we will continue to do so as long as people want to hear it. The first victory in over a decade. The first glimpse of hope.

Dozens of cities around the world are still trapped by other monarchs. We see the magic auras on our maps, pulsing invisible to our radar scans. But that is not what people are paying attention to anymore, at least not right now. Their eyes are focused on New York, on the spot where the magic winked out and a survivor's city was revealed.

I am one of those survivors.

And so is Asher.

Even as my hand grips his, I can hardly believe it. But it's true. Somehow.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

We are standing before the wall, eyes glued to a sight I never thought I would see. This wall was my second home. I've memorized every stone, every bump, every crack. For years, it stood as a symbol of the division between us and them, between rebel and guard, between free and ensnared, between brother and sister.

Now it stands for hope.

Hundreds of pictures cover the gray stone, smiling faces we hope to get back, loved ones we hope to eventually find. Our new missing person's wall. Each day a photo is taken down and each day another replaces it. Though many have been reunited, many more are still lost.

Like the woman I hold in my hand.

My mother.

"Go on," Asher urges, pushing the small of my back just slightly. I step forward, breath tight, hands unsteady. The back of my neck tingles. When I do this, it becomes real—the wish to see her alive, the desire to hold her in my arms, the need to make her understand that I am so very sorry for waiting so long, for forgetting.

I lick my lips. If I'm being honest, those yearnings are real already.

I look down at the photograph in my hands. Her face is slightly different than I remember, more like mine than I realized. Both of our skins are a golden brown, kissed by the sun. Her hair is curlier, but it is clearly where I get my waves. Her eyes are warmer than mine, but colorful, and just as loving as I imagined. My father is in this photo too, though I know he passed before I was born. For the first time, I see myself in him as well. Though his skin is pale, our smile is the same, lips slightly thinner but opening wide. And the curve of my eyes, slightly round, sharp at each end, is just like his. And there are the mixes, the way my hair is a shade in between the jet-black of my father and the light brown of my mother, how my cheekbones are high like his but also defined like hers.

I had forgotten what my parents looked like until yesterday when I found this picture in my hand. The apartment hadn't been touched for years. While I was under the queen's thrall, I never bothered to visit. Partially because I no longer cared. Partially because I didn't want to face who I had once been and who I had then become.

But Asher and I went back to my home, to a place I thought I would never see again. The building was cracked and broken, definitely unsafe, but the risk was worth it. When we found my apartment, the scene looked frozen in time. My toys were still on the ground. My bed was still unmade. Old plates sat in the sink growing mold. A thick layer of dust covered everything. But underneath I found a few precious treasures. Photo albums, letters, trinkets of jewelry. We took whatever we could carry.

This photograph had been in a frame in her bedroom, but now it will live on the wall, a sign of hope that maybe I will see her again.

With one more deep breath, I attach the picture, adding my mother to the sea of lost faces wishing to be found. Then I step back into Asher's waiting arms. They wrap around me as he places a soft kiss on my neck.

"We'll find her," he promises. The gentle kindness in his voice is just one of the reasons I love him.

"Come on." I take Asher's hand and lead him away. "There's something I want to show you."

"What?"

But I shake my head. It's my turn to surprise him. "You'll see."

A guard tower looms ahead and I sneak him inside. They are barren now that the guard has been disbanded. Most of my former comrades have joined the rebellion and eagerly await their next assignment, wondering what new city they will help free. But others are content to give up the guns and swords, to help rebuild in different ways. There are more than enough jobs to go around.

Me?

I've always been a fighter. At least now, I can fight for something I believe in.

Asher and I climb the steps two at a time and then scamper up to the top ring of the wall, a few stories in the air. I breathe easier up here, away from the noise and commotion, remembering countless hours spent in solitude, relaxed and at peace on my own.

As I turn to make sure Asher is still with me, my feet continue forward, all too used to this path. We're going to my favorite spot on the wall, further toward the west. After we pass through two more guardhouses, I stop, taking in the view.

The crumbling buildings of old New York City look softer in the musty light of sunset. The angles are less harsh. The decay is muted by shadows. The gray is splashed with pinks and oranges, painterly reflections making the city feel more alive, less barren. But that is not why I love this view, it is for the dried up riverbed to my right, the old Hudson River that has since stopped flowing. But the grooves make a deep path, a line to the fading horizon, an arrow to freedom. It's one of the only places on the south side of the wall where you can see for miles, where no tall buildings block your vision. The glimmer of water reflects far in the distance, promising that an endless ocean rests nearby, a gateway to the rest of the world.

I used to stand here and wonder if my feet would ever walk that path, if I would ever be free. But now nothing is stopping me, nothing except the warm fingers clutching my hand, squeezing it affectionately, whispering that I never have to be alone again.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" Asher asks.

"Sort of." I shrug. "Less of a place and more of an idea."

I tear my eyes from the scene only to realize that Asher has been looking at me the entire time, eyes a soft indigo just like the sky. A smile comes shyly to my lips as blood floods my cheeks. Something in his stare still makes me nervous, excited. I hope the feeling never changes.

"What idea was that?" He smirks, noticing my reaction.

I nudge him lightly on the shoulder. "For the first time, when I look at the world, I see possibilities. Not daydreams. Not fantasies. I see real places I can go. Real people I can save. And it's all because of you."

"I think you had a little something to do with it," he teases, but his eyes are more serious, heartfelt. Tone deeper, Asher adds, "I feel the same way."

I pause, hesitant, but his eyes are warm and welcoming, and I know these are words that need to be said at least once. "I want you to know that I'm sorry—"

"Jade," Asher interrupts, but I press on.

"I'm sorry I killed her," I finish, voice barely even a whisper. "I almost didn't, almost couldn't, because for a moment I saw the woman you always saw, the one who just wanted to be loved. But then I remembered everything she's done, and I just, I just…"

"I know," he murmurs, pulling my head into his chest, running his fingers through my hair. "You only did what you had to do. What I wasn't strong enough to do. And it's okay."

"No, it's not. It's not okay that you are trying to help find my mother when I'm the person who took yours away. But I want you to know that wherever we go next, I will do whatever I can to make it up to you."

A twitch runs through his body, stilling me, making me pull back.

"Asher?" I ask, but he looks away, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. "What?"

"It's just," he pauses, looking utterly sheepish with eyebrows slightly raised and lips unusually pouted. "There is one thing."

"Anything," I add quickly, confused.

"Well, it's more of a someone."

I'm immediately suspicious. "Who?"

Asher swallows, expression far too apologetic. "A girl. I made a promise when we were children that I would not abandon her, and I just learned she's been trapped by a man the rebels know only as the beast."

"Who is she?" I demand, voice tight. My blood has started to pound, to race. I take a step closer just as Asher steps farther away.

"Her name is Omorose."

"I meant who is she to you?"

"Jade," he pleads, grabbing my shoulders, looking me dead in the eye. "Please remember how much I love you, that I have to be in love with you and only you or the curse never would have lifted."

"Asher," I growl.

He backs away, slowly, inch by inch as though I am a ticking bomb about to explode. "She's my fiancé."

And then he runs.

All the air leaves my body, expelled by pure shock. But then I'm boiling, fuming. My hands ball into fists as my unruly emotions take over.

That jerk.

Then I'm running too.

And we both know it's only a matter of time until I catch him.

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