(Hi, realized I never shared this here. Chapter fourteen starts of with heart-to-heart between Danny and Dani. Enjoy!)
Danny looked at his twin and sighed.
A swathe of billowy clouds, tinged with shades of violet and golden yellow in the light of the setting sun, rolled below them in every direction. The snowcapped spires of mountain tops jutted through the rolling mists like fingers trailing through smoke. In the gentle wind, their cloaks swayed, the fading sunlight lighting Elle’s hair with gilded fire.
Danny knew Elle wasn’t happy with him. Her face was closed off, but he could sense her disappointment emanating from her. They sat side by side on a rocky outcrop, just above the blanketed clouds, but low enough that they could still admire the peak of Mount Cinomrah where it loomed like a noble guardian in the distance.
“Do you really have to leave?” Elle asked him.
Danny pursed his lips. They’d been sitting together in silence for some time under the ruse of having gone for a patrol, much to their father’s chagrin. Frostbite had a thing about them missing meals together and hadn’t been happy when they left. But Danny needed this time alone with his sister, and he knew she needed it, too.
“It won’t be as long this time,” Danny said.
“You said that last time and you were gone for years.”
“Hey, I visited, didn’t I?” At the narrowed, sideways look she gave him, he raised his hands in conciliation. “Two days tops this time. I promise.”
Elle blew out a breath that ruffled the long white fringe hanging in her eyes. “Sure.”
“C’mon, Dani,” he whined, using her old nickname from when they were kids. When they were little and similar in height, they had looked identical. Running amok through Ec’Nelis and introducing themselves to its denizens with the same name had been one of their favorite pastimes.
Her eyes glowed with annoyance. “What?”
“I need to make sure Pandora is okay. You know that.”
“I do know.”
Danny leaned back and studied her. Elle still wasn’t looking at him. Her feet kicked in the open air, just above the soft plumes of colorful clouds crawling below them.
“I just . . .” She shook her head. “I just feel like so much is going to change.”
He arched a brow at her. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s an I don’t know thing,” Elle said. “Everything has been getting worse and worse for so long, and now with the human here, I . . . I don’t know.” She turned to face him, shifting in the snow, her green eyes wide and earnest. “What if you leave and you don’t come back?”
“That won’t happen.”
“It will,” she said. “Eventually. Won’t it?”
Danny didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never said it aloud, but Elle knew him better than anyone. She belonged here in the Far Frozen, surrounded by the yeti and revered by them like the Frost Princess that she was, but Danny? He didn’t know where he belonged. While Elle had embraced that part of herself and thrived in it, Danny had always felt like an outsider.
“I will be back,” he said, his voice resolute. “There’s too much at stake not to.”
Elle snorted. “Oh, I bet there is.” At his blank look, she rolled her eyes and added, “The human?”
“What about her?”
Her head tilted as she leered at him. “I’ve seen the way you look at it.”
Danny gaped at her in bewilderment. “I do not look at her in any way.”
Elle shrugged. “I get it, I do. It—she—doesn’t have horns or fur and now that she’s not all feral looking, I guess she’s not terrible to look at. I’m not judging you. Even if she is . . .” she wrinkled her nose, “human.”
“Please stop talking,” Danny grumbled. “I am not interested in a human.”
But then, he felt them—his intrusive and damnable thoughts as they niggled at him from some shadowy alcove in his mind. Creeping through his reason before he had the chance to snuff them out. He was suddenly transported to the memory of Sam’s warm fingers as they blazed down his arm, hastily cleaning the ectoplasm from his wounds. The room was heady with her concern for him, so potent that the innate fear that always wrenched in his presence was held at bay. He had frozen under her touch, too shocked to do anything else but gape at her, utterly overwhelmed by her abrupt proximity.
Her emotions were always so powerful, like a searing blast of fire over his frigid, writhing core. He shuddered at the memory, still unsure how he felt about it. Or what it had meant.
Continue Reading on A03 HERE
Or start with CHAPTER ONE
Summary:
In a world where humans are on the losing end of a war with ghosts, Sam Manson is about as cynical as they get. Living in an underground bunker in the ruins of Amity Park tends to have that effect on a person. When a mission to restart a fusion reactor goes haywire, Sam’s life is spared by the infamous ghost called Phantom, and then she inexplicably wakes up in a strange, frozen world.
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.
Finish reading chapter 18 HERE
Start from Chapter 1 HERE
Summary:
In a world where humans are on the losing end of a war with ghosts, Sam Manson is about as cynical as they get. Living in an underground bunker in the ruins of Amity Park tends to have that effect on a person. When a mission to restart a fusion reactor goes haywire, Sam’s life is spared by the infamous ghost called Phantom, and then she inexplicably wakes up in a strange frozen world.
He gave her a flat look. “Why are you making this weird?”
“Because you’re being weird?”
They continued to stare at each other. The silence was deafening between them. They watched each other warily, like they were two wild animals about to cross paths.
Phantom grimaced. “This isn’t really panning out, is it?”
Sam blinked at him. Her eyes flicked between his blank expression, then to the sheet pan he still held in his hands. Disbelief rattled her. “Did you just . . .?”
His face cracked into a wicked grin.
“You did!” Sam gasped. “That was a fucking pun!”
He laughed, spinning the sheet pan midair with a burst of icy wind. “You have no idea how refreshing it is that someone actually gets that joke.”
Sam sighed dramatically and picked up one of several baking utensils. “It was pretty whisk-y, I’ll give you that.”
Now it was Phantom who blinked, wide green eyes flicking from her face to the giant, yeti-sized whisk she clutched in her hand. Then his expression morphed. It broadened into the widest, most shit-eating grin she’d ever seen. “That joke was the yeast of your problems.”
She arched her brow and crossed her arms. “You’re gonna have to batter than that, dude.”
The sheet pan clattered to the marble top of the island as he turned and rooted through a pantry cabinet. She remained fixed to her spot as she watched him curiously. He returned moments later, and presented her with the jar.
Her face scrunched with confusion. She didn’t take the jar. “Why are you handing me that?”
“Don’t human girls like flours?”
Sam snorted and pushed the jar away. “Stop. That’s too jarring.”
He grinned at her, before he settled the jar of flour onto the island and snagged a large egg from a basket that Tsuel kept on one of the wooden shelves. He opened his mouth, but Sam waved him off before he could speak.
“Don’t even start with the egg puns,” she groaned. “There’s way too many. We’ll be here all night.”
“That’s true,” he agreed. He gingerly placed the egg next to the pan and the jar of flour. “They’re far too eggstreme.”
She rolled her eyes and turned away to hide her smile. She’d never realized how similar their humor was. It was . . . odd. But also refreshing. After nearly three months of dealing with the literality of the yeti, she was starved for some humor and sarcasm. Though she never figured the infamous Phantom would be the one to give it to her.
Continue reading on AO3 HERE
Or check out CHAPTER ONE
Summary:
In a world where humans are on the losing end of a war with ghosts, Sam Manson is about as cynical as they get. Living in an underground bunker in the ruins of Amity Park tends to have that effect on a person. When a mission to restart a fusion reactor goes haywire, Sam’s life is spared by the infamous ghost called Phantom, and then she inexplicably wakes up in a strange, frozen world.
For the first time, Sam’s booted foot crunched into the nighttime shrouded snow of the Far Frozen.
Within seconds her breath was ripped from her lungs. Frozen claws that dug into her throat and every crevice of her body. Even the slightest brush of wind managed to completely numb her face and freeze her fingers. It was incomparable to anything she had ever felt before.
Instead of taking the usual doors from Frostbite’s throne room, Phantom had led her through deep curving passageways that seemed to descend indefinitely until, finally, they’d emerged from a smaller door near the base of the castle stairs. Had she not just used it herself, she would never have known the door was even there. It blended right in with the ice and stone surrounding it.
“Gah,” Sam gasped as she braced herself against the wind. “Holy shit it’s cold out here. You weren’t lying.”
There was a fleeting pressure on her shoulder. Sam turned to see Phantom looking at her with a finger at his lips. “Quiet,” he whispered.
She frowned at him. “Why?”
His response was to point in some direction behind her.
Sam turned and squinted into the darkness, blinking against the little flurries of snowflakes tossed into the air by wind, and it was then that she finally saw it—the distinguishable amber glow of fire churning against black velvet. Now that she was looking, she could see silhouetted shapes lumbering amidst the swirling white vortex, many crowded together. Behind the crowd, a tall spire protruded into the sky, nearly consumed by snow and dusk.
Sam squinted into the dark. “Is that the market circle?”
“It is, yes,” Phantom said in a hushed voice. “They do fires on nights like this.”
She looked around, as if expecting to see something other than twirling bits of snow. “Nights like . . . this,” she repeated slowly.
“It’ll clear up in a little bit,” Phantom said. His expression turned sly. “But you know, it would certainly help if we were above the clouds right now, wouldn’t it?”
There was an embarrassing amount of time in which Sam stared at him, silent and uncomprehending. What did he mean by above the clouds? It made no sense to her, because neither of them could . . . wait. Sam nearly facepalmed. She’d almost forgotten she was talking to a ghost.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Oh, come on, Sam,” he said. “Haven’t you ever wanted to fly?”
“Not really, no,” she lied.
Phantom reached toward her anyway with his palm facing the sky. “C’mon,” he said, “I don’t bite. I promise.”
“Sure, you don’t. You’ll just feed on my emotions and suck out my soul,” she deadpanned, though her words lacked their usual malice.
Phantom grimaced at her. Without missing a beat, he said, “Sorry, I don’t like diet humans. Pretty sure feeding on your emotions would be the low carb version of the ghost world.”
“Are you calling me emotionless?”
“Well, you are goth, aren’t you? What was it you said before? The antitheses of anything bright and happy?”
“Funny.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you always such an ass?”
“Do you always disguise your fear with banter?”
“What did you just say to me?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Who the hell said I was afraid of anything?”
“I did. Considering you have yet to take my hand, I’m left to assume you’re either afraid of heights, or me.”
“I am so not afraid of you,” she snapped. “And for the record I love heights.”
“Well then,” Phantom said as he waggled his outstretched hand, “what are we waiting for?”
Sam opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Instead, she stood there in the freezing wind with her gaze flicking from Phantom’s eyes to his hand, then back again. She shivered as a sudden bout of self-consciousness rippled through her. She wasn’t afraid—she wasn’t—but it seemed utterly forbidden to place her hand in his, like something cataclysmic would happen if she did.
Phantom was a ghost. She’d be taking the hand of a ghost. She’d be trusting a ghost.
But then, Sam thought as she looked at him, do I even care?
The silence was deafening as they stared at each other. Bits of snow settled in Phantom’s hair, peppered his cloak with white. The snowflakes were big and fat, softer than anything she had ever seen in Amity Park. She frowned and brushed them away from her face where they clung to her bangs. Then she was staring at his hand, very much aware how pivotal her decision was. Things were changing. The Resistance had so much to learn. She had so much to learn.
“You can say no if you want,” Phantom said after the silence stretched on into what seemed like minutes. His hand dropped a little, and she watched the hesitation draw his features in uncertain lines. “I’d understand. I mean, it must be pretty cold out here for you. I’m unaccustomed to just how inefficient a human’s thermoregulation really is.”
The silence dragged on even longer. Phantom tilted his head at her with worry now prominent in his eyes. “Sam?”
Just when Phantom started to pull away, Sam surprised them both by placing her hand in his.
Read more HERE
Start from chapter one HERE
Summary:
In a world where humans are on the losing end of a war with ghosts, Sam Manson is about as cynical as they get. Living in an underground bunker in the ruins of Amity Park tends to have that effect on a person. When a mission to restart a fusion reactor goes haywire, Sam’s life is spared by the infamous ghost called Phantom, and then she inexplicably wakes up in a strange, frozen world
The rattling in Sam’s chest was nearly unbearable. A powerful, harrowing feeling enveloped her, as if his very aura flared. Was she imagining the small jolts of white electricity she saw flicking around his hands? She took another step back, her eyes wide.
And then, just like that, the feeling dimmed. He blinked, and the angry glow of his eyes lessened considerably. “I’m scaring you,” he murmured shamefully.
She feigned composure. “I’m not scared.” But her voice cracked. And she knew that he was aware of exactly what she was feeling.
He watched her for a moment, quietly noting the distance she’d put between them in the narrow alley. He heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”
“Good at what?” she said breathlessly.
“Would you believe talking to pretty girls?”
She glared at him, and he barked out a soft laugh.
“I’m not good at . . . “ He sighed again, then gestured to her. “This.”
She crossed her arms. “Did you just seriously gesture to all of me?”
“Humans,” Phantom said. “I’m not good at being around humans.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
In a world where humans are on the losing end of a war with ghosts, Sam Manson is about as cynical as they get. Living in an unground bunker in the ruins of Amity Park tends to have that effect on a person. When a mission to restart a fusion reactor goes haywire, Sam’s life is spared by the infamous ghost called Phantom, and then she inexplicably wakes up in a strange, frozen world
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
In a world where humans are on the losing end of a war with ghosts, Sam Manson is about as cynical as they get. Living in an unground bunker in the ruins of Amity Park tends to have that effect on a person. When a mission to restart a fusion reactor goes haywire, Sam’s life is spared by the infamous ghost called Phantom, and then she inexplicably wakes up in a strange, frozen world.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Finally getting around to posting this on tumblr! I am an aspiring writer after a long, long hiatus (like eight years or something lol). Decided to get back into it. And what better way than rewriting an old DP AU that I wrote and never finished.
As usual, I suck at posting these when the fic updates, but I realized today that Frozen Fire is officially one year old!!! Makes me happy. :) Anyway, enjoy!
“I want to help,” Sam announced one morning at breakfast.
The breakfast table had gone silent.
Frostbite frowned at her, a steaming mug raised to his muzzle, while Tsuel turned to face her with brows raised in mild surprise. Elle didn’t say anything, though she, too, stared at Sam, albeit through narrowed eyes. Meanwhile, Phantom—no, Danny—simply arched a brow at her, smiling faintly, as if already amused by whatever bullshit he assumed she was about to spew at them. In the week that had followed their little moonlit tryst, he’d taken to simply smirking at her when she talked at breakfast, which she was certain he did just to irritate her.
Sam met every one of their stares, her face set and determined.
“Help with what, Sam?” Frostbite asked.
“Defending the Far Frozen during the raids,” she said. “I want to help fight.”
Frostbite sighed wearily and set his mug down on the table. “You know I cannot condone that.”
“Sleetjaw cleared me for physical training yesterday,” she said, undeterred as she’d been expecting his pushback. Arms still crossed, she jerked her chin at Tsuel. “Ask her, she was there.”
Before Tuel could respond, Frostbite said, “I am well aware of what Sleetjaw has told you, human girl, but that does mean I can in good conscience send you to fight. You are still untrained.”
She gave him her best are-you-stupid look. “Untrained? I’ve been fighting these fuckers for years.”
“She does have a point there, father,” Danny said. He winked at her shocked expression. “She is quite renowned in her world for her talents.”
Elle snorted quietly into her breakfast at that, to which Danny responded with a warning look. Unperturbed, Elle smirked right back at him.
Frostbite glanced between all three of them in irritation. “Yes, a formidable human she is, but she has not fought draugrs.”
“Listen to Frostbite, Sam,” Tsuel said. “You do not yet know what you are up against.”
“Then show me,” she snapped. “Or train me, then. I’m not going to learn otherwise.”
Again, the breakfast table fell silent. This time, however, the silence was riddled with tension as the ghosts and yeti shared uneasy glances with each other.
“What is it?” Sam asked in a drawling monotone.
“It is just . . .” Tsuel started and trailed off, shaking her head.
“Those of us who wish to engage in the fighting are trained by Icefang,” Frostbite said.
“And me,” Elle said. Sam expected the ghost girl to be glaring at her, but she wasn’t. She was instead watching Sam carefully, her head tilted in a way that reminded Sam of her twin, and her expression was pensive.
“Yes, and my daughter,” Frostbite agreed. “You may not believe me, but I am not opposed to your learning, especially now that you are now healed enough to do so. But I understand that there is . . .” his muzzled twisted into a grimace, “tension, between you and he.”
“I’d train you myself, human, but I can’t do it without Icefang’s permission,” Elle said, “or I would dishonor what he’s taught me.”
Sam gaped at Elle. “Wait, you would?”
Elle’s face cracked into a wicked grin. “I’m always looking for new sparring partners.”
“Because a human with a sword against a ghost with super strength is a fair matchup,” Sam replied dryly.
Elle’s brows rose. “There’s more to swordplay than strength alone,” she said with a sincerity that, yet again, surprised Sam. “It’s very technical. Like dancing.”
Danny sighed heavily into his tea and said, “Sam has a gun, she doesn’t need a sword.”
“Says the loser who can’t beat his sister in a duel without his powers,” Elle snapped back.
He shrugged. “I don’t know how many times I can say the words archaic and unnecessary before you get them.”
“Maybe because not all of us can use our powers,” Elle said. Then she gestured across the table towards Sam. “Or even have powers, for the matter.”
Sam wanted to ask about Elle’s inability to use her ghost powers, and just as she opened her mouth to voice the question aloud, she decided against it. She was certain it wouldn’t go over well.
Perhaps she’d ask Danny about it the next time she caught him alone. Which was, unfortunately for her nosiness, a rare occurrence.
“Not only is it tradition, but it would be wise for Sam to learn our ways first,” Frostbite said. A strange expression had befallen his features, his icy claws rapping against the wooden top of the table. “It would be impractical to ignore such traditions in favor of clever inventions.”
Danny rolled his eyes and glanced at Sam with a look that said, ‘can you believe this guy?’
“Okay, well, then I guess that leaves us at an impasse then, huh?” Sam said.
“Not necessarily,” Danny said. “I could always take you to Pandora’s realm. She would be thrilled to teach you.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Elle said. “Pandora taught me a lot of what I know.”
Sam was shocked. “You mean, like go to another Realm?”
He nodded and grinned at her. “She wants to meet you anyway. What’s that expression you humans use? Two stones and a bird, or something?”
“It’s killing two birds with one stone,” Sam corrected.
“Well, that’s morbid.” Elle snickered. “I like it.”
“Why the hell does Pandora want to meet me?” Sam asked with an incredulous shake of her head. To say she gobsmacked was a colossal understatement.
At this, Danny’s eyes widened, and he looked away from her, his hand at the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. Sam didn’t miss the sly look that Elle shot him. “Oh, you know, something about the prophetical human who can touch the roses of her realm, and all that.”
“And we circle back to the Writings again,” Sam droned, “great.”
“The Writings are important,” Tsuel admonished, gently elbowing Sam’s side, “do not speak of them as if they are nothing.”
“Tsuel is right,” Frostbite said, “and that is also why Sam must learn our ways first. The Writings foretell of it.”
“Of course they do,” Sam drawled. “It would be too convenient for the plot otherwise.”
“Sam,” Tsuel chided again, “please do not be difficult. We get enough of such antics from the twin cubs.”
Elle raised her mug of tea in Sam’s direction, grinning. “Here, here!”
“Ignore my sister,” Danny said to Sam, “she’s a menace.”
Sam sighed wearily as she raked a hand through her hair. “Icefang hates me.” She ruminated on the feeling of his grip on her throat and the way he’d thrashed her about like a ragdoll and shuddered. “And I’m not his biggest fan either. Fuck that guy.”
“Icefang will teach you if I command it,” Frostbite said, “but I do not wish for it to come to that.”
“Dear cub,” Tsuel said, placing a gentle clawed hand on Sam’s shoulder, “perhaps you should talk to him.”
Sam looked at Tsuel like she’d just sprouted two heads. “Talk to Icefang?”
“Yes. I believe there is much you both may learn, and that it is imperative that you do so.”
Sam shook her head. Unconsciously, her fingers trailed along her neck with the shadow of memory. “So, he can finish killing me? Nooo thank you.”
“Thant won’t happen,” Danny muttered darkly as he stared at her hand. Did she imagine the way his eyes glowed a bit brighter, as if in anger?
“Icefang is a creature of honor,” Frostbite said. “My son is correct that such a thing will not happen.”
Sam leveled the Yeti King with an unimpressed look. “You sure put a lot of faith in honor.”
Suddenly, a rapid pattering of heavy footsteps sounded from the outside corridor, like something—or someone—was running, and a breathless Driftwind appeared in the kitchen’s entryway.
Frostbite stood so fast that his long tail sent his chair tilting and tumbling to the floor. “What is the meaning of this, Driftwind?” he demanded.
“My liege,” Driftwind sputtered through his gasps, claws braced against the wooden frame, “we . . . we are . . . well we—”
“Cease your ramblings and spit it out,” Frostbite growled.
Wild eyed, Driftwind glanced between them all, his large barrel chest rising and falling as he gasped desperately for air. Just how fast had he been running? Sam wondered. A sense of foreboding started to uncoil in the pit of her stomach.
She didn’t know how she knew, but she did, as if the imminence ran bone deep and was laced through every one of her muscle fibers. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew that something was wrong. Horribly, terribly, wrong.
Their answer came when the entire castle rumbled. Dust fell from stone ceiling, landing like snowfall amidst the spread of breakfast platters. Dishes tumbled. Foxen scattered in a frenzy.
Just as Driftwind shouted, “We are being attacked!”
Everything that happened next came in quick succession.
Tsuel cried out and scrambled to her feet, racing for the door with Driftwind close behind her. Elle’s face hardened as she disappeared in a blur of power. Frostbite’s face darkened as he, too, dashed for the door, but before he disappeared through it, he turned to Danny and said, “Take Sam to her room at once!”
“No!” Sam shouted. “Let me help you guys! I can help!”
“No, Sam, you cannot,” Frostbite said. “They will kill you.”
She watched as Frostbite’s claws began to glow. The energy blossomed and then promptly coalesced into a long, frozen sword that dwarfed Sam in size. His red eyes were hard as he looked at her over his shoulder, long tail flicking and teeth bared, but not at her, she knew. This was a Yeti King ready for war.
“Stay here,” he commanded.
And then he was gone.
Sam immediately whirled to face Danny. “I’m not going to my room.”
He didn’t look happy about it, but said, “Okay.”
She thrust out her hand. “Take me with you. I can help. You know I can.”
“Sam, no. My father is right. You don’t have to go to your room, you can stay here, but—”
“No,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
“Sam, please. I need to go help them.”
He started to float, and she knew he was seconds away from going intangible and disappearing through the ceiling. Without thinking, she grasped his cloak and yanked on it, which didn’t do jack shit to a ghost as strong as he was, though it did keep him from disappearing, his face pained.
With a sigh, he drifted closer and grasped her shoulders, which surprised her, even in her fury. Despite them being on much friendlier terms, Danny still shied away from physical contact as much as possible. She stared up at him through frustrated tears.
“Draugrs don’t attack during the day,” he said. “Daylight is lethal to them. This is an extremely calculated attack, Sam. This is when the market is at its busiest.”
The reality of his words tumbled straight into her heart, making it heavy. “Then I should be out there helping them. Please, Ph—Danny. Please.”
She could tell how much saying his name aloud affected him by the way his grip tightened on her shoulders. He sighed again, laughing a little. “You are probably one of the bravest creatures I have ever met, but my father is right, you aren’t ready for this. Someday, sure. But not now.”
“Brave?” she said with an incredulous laugh. “How can I be brave if I’m in here hiding.”
“You are brave,” Danny countered fiercely. “I remember the fatally injured human who challenged a ghost she was certain was about to kill her.”
“Doesn’t count.That ghost had no intention of killing her or she’d be dead.”
“And that same ghost very much wants her not to die today, too.”
“Kind of a letdown, if you ask me. All that build up and it turns out the ghost that everyone is afraid of is a big softy.”
Before he could retort, the castle shook again, which made more dust fall. Danny shielded them from it with a burst of energy that formed a spiraling green dome above their heads. She couldn’t help but stare at it. Aside from Amity, she’d never seen him use ectoenergy in front of her.
“Sam, I have to go,” he said, his voice booming. She turned her attention back to him and blinked at the way his eyes glowed a bright acidic green. The room chilled considerably as his power eddied. In a voice brimming with that same power, he said, “Stay here.”
She watched with fascination as his entire form bristled with energy and went intangible. She felt the cold, deathlike chill of him brush past her, to the wall, before disappearing completely.
She was now alone.
The moments dragged on as the castle rumbled for the third time. Dishes on the table rattled, some falling to the floor and shattering, and she watched as the vase of Pandorian roses tilted and started to plummet as well.
Sam dove and caught the vase before it hit the ground. A nearby foxen whirled and watched her with wild eyes, its plumed tail spiked with alarm.
“That was a close one, huh?” she asked it.
Its little nose twitched in response, before it turned and dashed for the nearest gap in stone, right behind the rest of the fleeing little creatures.
Sam stared at the green flowers in her hands. They shifted to a brilliant violet as she moved them, and then plunged into a deep, velvety black by the time she returned them to their place at the center of the table. She stared at them for a while, imagining the dark sky they now reminded her of—of the stars and moons and waltzing neons, and of the beautiful world all those things belonged to.
