Heart of Ice (The Snow Queen #1)(72)

Rakel scowled out at the ruined gardens as she tried to sooth an itch in the crook of her elbow. It’s been a day, and we still have no plans for the future.

“Come on, Frigid,” she said, gliding into the garden.

Frigid grunted and waddled after her, stopping to sniff a savaged bush.

Rakel started by removing the ice pike from the impaled weeping willow. The tree sagged, and she rushed to support it with an ice structure. “Perhaps there is a magic user who could heal trees?”

Frigid chewed a weed he had torn from the frozen ground.

She brushed an iced-over tree with a fingertip, and the ice retreated. The tree groaned with relief, its branches swaying in the little bit of wind that played in the air. She patted it, and gave the neighboring pine tree similar treatment. She was attempting to right a row of bushes that had been torn from the ground when she realized it was a lost cause. Using wind, she blew the shrubbery into a pile and gazed thoughtfully at the giant open spot. She rubbed her hands together as she struggled to remember flowering bushes from her books and her distant childhood memories.

“How about a rose bush?” Rakel asked, cupping Frigid’s velvet muzzle when he stuck his giant head next to hers and breathed loudly in her ear.

Frigid lipped her hair.

With no one to oppose her, she walked in a circle around the open spot, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Like delicate silversmith work, a rosebush of ice slowly formed. The ice branches and stubby trunk grew first, curling towards the sky. Fragile ice leaves opened next, folding out from each branch in individual shapes. She frosted them, so they would be easier to see than clear ice. She finished with wild rose flowers. She made them the size of her fist, though the petals were so thin, they curled. She added buds and a few half-opened flowers, frosting them slightly in the center, and stepped back to survey her work.

It wasn’t bad for a plant sculpture. Rakel mostly enjoyed sculpting animals (plants didn’t vary quite as much, and animal textures were more fun to carve), but this would do for now.

She started to smile but then realized she and Frigid were not alone. She crouched next to the ice bush and discreetly peered over her shoulder. Her heart shuddered when she realized Steinar stood on the palace patio, watching her—and her rose bush sculpture.

Rakel gulped and placed a hand on Frigid to steady herself when she stood. What is he doing? She hurried to a tree and began removing ice from it.

As the ice encasing its roots cracked and began to peel off, she risked another glance over her shoulder. Steinar was staring at the sculpted bush with an indecipherable expression.

It wasn’t fear or anger, but…curiosity, perhaps? Though the corners of his mouth tugged down, it held a hint of a wry smile. Her guess was further confirmed by his relaxed stance and the way he leaned forward against the banister.

Rakel took ice off a bush and mulled over her observations. She glanced at her younger brother again, flicked snowflakes off her hand, and then made her way to another unoccupied hole. She checked the pins in her hair that kept her braid coiled as she mentally paged through the diagrams and pictures she had spent countless hours studying, eventually deciding on an apple tree.

Finally ready, Rakel tapped her magic. A tree trunk shot out of the ground, growing bumps and ridges that resembled tree bark. It was a little more challenging to build as it was easily twice the size of the bush, but she smiled in satisfaction as the branches stretched high above her head and grew small, veined leaves. Last, Rakel made the apple blossoms. They were just a little bigger than the pad of her thumb, each petal individually formed.

Encouraged by the beauty, Rakel made a bed of icy, frosted daisies. Each flower was so delicate, the stems could be broken like crystal. She moved farther into the gardens and made a white pine tree and rows upon rows of heather—a brightly flowered, unassuming, but sweet-smelling plant…and one of the few flowers Rakel had seen since her mountain exile. She turned around, intending to ask Frigid what he thought of the heather—it was difficult to build as the flowers and leaves were tiny—and was surprised to discover that Steinar had followed her deep into the gardens and was perhaps twenty feet away, studying the bell-like flowers of a lily of the valley she had made.

When he noticed her gaze, he stood up, his expression guarded.

Rakel pulled her eyes off of him and set about building an ice fountain—only half-paying attention to the sculpture.

What could I build that would reassure him? Done with the ice fountain, she fussed over Frigid’s halter—making the reindeer snort when she accidentally pulled on his cheek hair. She ignored his reaction and tugged on her magic. Her power in hand, Rakel began to mold a human-shaped statue, first building the torso, arms, and legs, then creating the head, giving it muted features to start with. Thinking back to some of Oskar’s outfits, she clothed the statue in an icy outfit that was a perfect copy, down to the embroidery and the velvet texture.

Next, she placed a sword in one hand and a scepter in the other, then turned her attention to the face, giving it a hawkish nose, a strong chin, and high cheekbones.

Behind her, Steinar stirred.

She continued her work, giving him slightly mussed hair, and finished the statue with an ornate crown. Rakel couldn’t remember what the Verglas crown looked like, but she had seen several drawings of various crowns, so she fashioned a new one for him, cutting the ice into prism shapes so it glittered.

She took several steps back and, in a practiced gesture she hadn’t used in a while, clasped her hands together and pressed them into her stomach. She held her breath as snow crunched under Steinar’s feet. It took him several minutes, but eventually he joined her so they stood shoulder to shoulder, close enough that their arms would brush if either moved.