Once Upon a Quest Page 8

  This is going to be harder to watch than I thought.

  * * *

  I tried calling Grace the rest of the day and the next. She never answered her phone or her door. That was when I realized there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t become Jack Frost. I hadn’t tried for nearly twenty-four hours since the weird turn of things in the park, so I wasn’t sure if that wind and the owl had something to do with it, or if something else had happened. Had I been a human too long?

  Had the Snow Queen lifted my curse?

  No. She didn’t strike me as being someone who would let go that easily. Either way, I couldn’t contact her. Not like this. Simple ice tricks, like the snow rose and making ice or freezing things were the extent of what I could do. Flying or causing large snows or flurries—those were lost to me while I was like this.

  I didn’t have a place to stay because I’d always returned to my home in the North. But now with her door shut to me—what was I going to do? I didn’t have money either and Grace knew that. So I did the only thing I knew to do.

  I sweet talked her landlady into letting me into her apartment.

  It was Sunday night and Grace wasn’t there. In fact, it looked as if Grace hadn’t been there since we left on Saturday and I asked her to marry me. Everything looked the same. Her purse was gone, as were her car keys.

  Where was she?

  I found her day planner and a few numbers. I began calling. And after speaking with six of her closest friends, names I’d heard her mention before, it became evident that no one knew where she was. No one had seen her since Friday. That was the day I’d manifested for her so we could spend the weekend together.

  I knew I should be more upset about my own predicament, but I couldn’t think without knowing where she was, even if she abruptly hated me.

  Not sure where else to turn, I tracked down her parents. I didn’t have money or even a credit card to travel to Springfield, Missouri. I did find their number and was about to call when there was a knock at her door. I slipped my phone into my pocket and after checking my troubling appearance (I looked pale and gaunt) in the mirror, I answered it. “Yes?”

  Two uniformed police officers flanked two men in suits. They both flashed their badges as they stared at me. Detectives. “Sorry to interrupt you—” the one on the right said. “But we’re looking for Grace Rosen.”

  “So am I,” I said and ran my fingers through my hair. “I’m her fiancé—” I stepped back. “This is her apartment.”

  “Is she here?”

  “No. I can’t find her. But if you guys are looking…” and then I had a very bad feeling. Two cops and two detectives arrive at a woman’s apartment flashing badges. She’d been gone about twenty-four hours. I never reported her missing to law enforcement.

  “Mister…” the one on the right leaned forward.

  I nearly said the moniker I’d been known as for a very long time. Instead, I gave them the name Grace and I agreed on. “Smith. Jack Smith.”

  “Mister…Smith,” the detective said. “May we come in?”

  I stepped aside as the two detectives came in but the uniforms remained in the hall. I closed the door as the one speaking to me, Detective Kowalski, if I remembered correctly, faced me. “You’re her fiancé. Did you give her a ring?”

  “Yes.” Something pressed on my shoulders and I felt very uncomfortable. “What’s happening? Where’s Grace?”

  “Why don’t you tell us?”

  “But I don’t know. I’ve called her friends and I was about to call her parents.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  Again I put my hand to my hair. “Uh, yesterday. Afternoon. We were in Central Park.”

  “Did she leave on her own?”

  “Yes, she had her car. But she hasn’t answered her phone and it looks like she hasn’t been here—”

  “Did you two have a fight?” The other detective said.

  The question surprised me. How did he know—

  I realized he was fishing for something.

  That bad feeling was getting worse. “Did something happen to Grace?”

  “Do you have any form of ID, Mr. Smith?”

  I took a step back as they faced me. “Where is Grace?”

  “ID, Mr. Smith.”

  “I-I was mugged last night. I don’t have my wallet.”

  “I suggest we have this conversation downtown,” Detective Kowalski said as he gestured to the door. “We can have someone else look at the apartment.”

  “Not until you tell me where Grace is.”

  “Mr. Smith—”

  “Where is Grace?”

  “She took a header off the Brooklyn Bridge,” said the other detective. The one I couldn’t remember their name. “Found her car at the top, and her driver’s license, purse, everything was still in it.” He gestured to the door. “Now, if you’ll come with us.”

  Suicide?

  No, that wasn’t my Grace. She would never…unless someone pushed her. There was something about her death that caught the eye of the law, and then they find me in her apartment.

  Yeah. This was bad. They were looking at me for her death.

  Death. I couldn’t…I wasn’t going to believe she was really dead.

  I had to find this out for myself. “Where’s her body?”

  “What?”

  “Her body? Is she in the morgue? I won’t believe she’s dead until I see her.”

  “Plenty of time to do that later.” He put a hand on my arm. “Now if you’ll come with me…”

  My response was pure instinct by nature of what I am. Even though I couldn’t shift into Jack Frost, I still maintained the protections given to me. The moment he touched my hand, his hand froze. It was the equivalent of sticking his hand in a vat of liquid nitrogen. And the longer he kept a grip on me, the further up his arm the process went.

  He screamed when I moved away and his hand broke off and fell to the floor. Kowalski’s eyes widened as he looked at his partner’s arm to the floor. That was the delay I needed as I pointed to his weapon, still in its holster and froze it into a block of ice. He yelped and struggled to remove his coat as the other detective’s yells brought the two cops into the apartment, their guns drawn.

  I did the same to their guns, unfortunately freezing their hands as well.

  During the commotion, I ran past them and into the hall and paused long enough to turn the entire floor into ice before I took off down the stairs and darted into the alley. I could hear sirens in the distance. I wasn’t sure if that was about me, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I headed into the street and blended in with the evening pedestrians, on my way to the morgue.

  * * *

  Kai was impressed with what Jack did. It especially liked the frozen hand, and made owl noises when it happened. No one noticed him peering into the apartment from the fire escape window. But it noticed as Jack made his way into the street below, and took off to follow him. Hearing the news about Grace saddened it. Kai hadn’t known Grace, but it did know how happy she made Jack.

  And when it really considered how it felt about everything…Kai liked Jack.

  A lot more than the Snow Queen.

  * * *

  There were dozens of bodies in every morgue I visited, but none of them was Grace. It was close to four in the morning when I stepped outside of the last one. I could see the Brooklyn Bridge and marveled at it a few moments. Being what I was, it was possible for me to communicate with living things. Too often I’d discovered it would be better to talk with inanimate objects, like cars and bridges, since they would know more.

  But there was the river. I could ask her if Grace was dead.

  It took about an hour for me to get to the shore, or an area less populated. I picked my way through trash and debris, stumbling over a still-warm barrel. I’d seen those barrels before, with fire inside and a group of people around them. Just on the other side of the barrel, I spotted a pair of red shoes. They were
pumps with a three-inch heel and in perfect condition.

  I absently picked them up, still trying to figure out why a new pair of shoes were left in such a dilapidated area.

  I approached the water’s edge and called out to speak with its spirit.

  At first, nothing happened, and I feared whatever malady was preventing me from becoming Jack Frost was also preventing me from communicating with the spirit.

  Soon a small circle of bubbles disturbed the water’s surface. I fought the overwhelming urge to run away, unsure if this was indeed the Water’s Voice. A figure emerged slowly, little more than a silhouette made of bubbles and spouts of water. It swayed from side to side as it finally stood on the water’s surface, and when it started ambling closer, its form sharpened.

  By the time it reached the shore, I was looking at a nondescript bag lady pushing a shopping cart, much like the one I’d stumbled over. She wore a red cap atop a shoulder-length nest of straw-like hair. Several layers of coats covered most of her body. The only reason I considered her female was because she wore a skirt, followed by several pairs of socks on each foot.

  But no shoes.

  She stopped in front of me and stared at me with tiny black eyes. “Jack…you look different.”

  “I know. I’m stuck in human form. Forgive me for the intrusion, Spirit of the Water, but I am looking for someone.” I happened to glance back at the shopping cart and checked a few details on what was in the cart, and realized it was the same cart.

  “Aren’t we all?” The Spirit of the Water replied. I heard something gurgling in her throat and wondered if there was still water in her lungs.

  “May I ask if you have seen her?”

  The Spirit of the Water tilted her head as her gaze pierced through me. “If you are asking if she has visited my depths, I can only show you the last one to enter. This is the form I have taken.”

  I understood at that moment, why the carts were the same. Who ever had used the cart on the shore had drowned in the river. Whether pushed or simply confused and wandered in, no one would ever know. I felt sadness at the thought, that the only thing left of this person was an abandoned cart.

  “You always did retain too much of your human soul,” the Spirit of the Water said. Her gaze moved from my face down to the shoes in my hand. “But what a prize! I would gladly give you the answer you seek if only to have those shoes!”

  I frowned. Was it that simple? That a pair of shoes found nearby was the key to my question? Unless the shoes had belonged to the now deceased bag-lady, and the remnants of her own spirit wanted them.

  “I will trade them to you,” and I stepped forward and held them out to her.

  She grinned, exposing blackened teeth. Water dribbled out of her mouth and ran down her chin as she accepted the shoes. They abruptly appeared on her socked feet and the heels sunk into the mud. Looking back to me, she held out her hand.

  With just a small bit of trepidation—because I worried that I would see Grace’s body—I took her hand. A million images flashed across my field of vision, multitudes of faces. Young, old, short, tall, thin, wide, and worse, children.

  But no Grace.

  The Spirit of the Water abruptly released my hand and shook her head as I reeled a bit from the search. “I am afraid I cannot help you.”

  “Is…is she not dead?”

  “I cannot tell if she is dead. I can only say she has never entered my domain.” She walked around the cart, the heels of the shoes no longer visible above the mud. I watched as she rummaged around the mound of treasures in her cart until she pulls out an immaculate pair of boots. They were a man’s size and style and fur-lined. “Take these to the Wizard of the Forest. There you will find more answers. But hurry Jack…I sense there is danger around this woman, the center of your heart. And that means danger for you.”

  I stood on the shore, holding the boots as the bag lady took hold of the cart and backed into the river. She once again became a silhouette of bubbles and then vanished.

  I felt hope return to me. Grace had not thrown herself into the river. Which meant those detectives had no body. Grace was not in a morgue. All they had was an abandoned car, a purse, and wallet. She could have been abducted or simply walked away. They had just wanted an easy answer to the case, a quick, convenient conviction.

  Looking at the boots, I knew I had to find the Wizard of the Forest. I closed my eyes and let my affinity with the wind search out the world for the Wizard. Forest creatures didn’t have as many places as the Water creatures. The world was mostly water. But there were enough that I couldn’t spend my life searching every wooded area on every continent.

  And then I saw him. There. In the woods, a man clothed in a rough sewn shirt and pants, chopping wood. His hair was long and gray and fell down his back in long braids. I pulled back in my mind’s eye and looked around to see where—

  My heart sunk. Canada. Quebec. It was a million miles away for me. I couldn’t ride the wind.

  I turned and my own shoe struck something. I looked down to see a purse, perfectly intact. It looked as if it’d just dropped from the sky. I knelt beside it, careful of the boots, and found a wallet inside. In the wallet was cash, credit cards and an ID.

  A woman in her middle years. Her name was Harriet Broker. I looked up, but the bridge was far away. Had this Harriet been one of the many faces I’d caught a glimpse of in the Spirit of the Water’s search? Possibly.

  I counted the cash. There was enough to buy me a bus or plane ticket to Quebec. I pocketed the cash, but destroyed the credit cards and left the ID in the wallet. With a glance around, I left the shore and headed back into town.

  * * *

  Maybe I shouldn’t have done that? Kai wondered to itself as it watched Jack take the cash and then followed him to the bus terminal. The Snow Queen had never said anything about not helping him. All she wanted was the shards to enter the eyes and heart of Grace—except one of them went into Jack’s eye. And that might be why he wasn’t becoming Jack Frost.

  So Kai thought, if it helped Jack, the shard would come out. Or if it helped him enough, maybe it could ask Jack if it could have the shard back.

  Right?

  It all made sense to Kai. But then, it was just a simple creature.

  Leaving the shoes had been easy. Kai had found them further down the river and dropped them closer. Same with the purse—though the purse had actually been sitting beside someone in the park. The yelling that woman made when Kai took the bag…sheesh. It wasn’t like Jack didn’t need it more!

  Once Jack boarded the bus, Kai followed from above, happy to give Jack Frost the clues he needed to find Grace. And then Jack would be so happy he’d give Kai the shard back.

  * * *

  I was hungry, exhausted, dirty and ready to collapse when I found the Wizard’s house in the woods. The Wizard looked just like I had seen him, and his face was kind. He invited me inside for food, clean clothing, and rest. I had no idea how long I slept. I woke to the smell of bacon and fresh bread. I ate again and the Wizard gave me the most wonderful tea I’d ever had.

  It warmed my bones and eased my worries until I couldn’t remember what I was worried about. The Wizard showed me the ways of the forest every morning, teaching me how to track, what was good to eat and what was poison. I was so excited to be given my own ax eone morning so I could chop wood and fill the stack against the side of the house. I filled it to the roof!

  And every night he taught me how to cook. I made the best stew from the deer I shot, and the herbs I’d grown and harvested. I enjoyed the Wizard’s company. He was always with me. Always watching. And never let me out of his sight.

  * * *

  * * *

  This was a disaster! Kai kept its distance from the tiny house in the woods. The demon turned snowy owl had entered the house once while the Wizard and Jack were away. The outside was very misleading, making the place look really small. But inside it was a veritable lumberjack’s palace. Vast space, wooden wa
lls, and beams visible everywhere. Stuffed heads hung on the wall—including that of a snowy owl!

  And something odd had happened to Jack. It was as if Jack had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. And that was finding Grace. Kai didn’t know what triggered this odd behavior. It knew Jack had looked terrible when he arrived. He’d gone through so much to get here. The Wizard had fed him, and clothed him and given him a place to sleep. So what was it that kept Jack in such a dream-like happiness?

  Kai decided to search the little house again, but this time it was going to pay attention. The demon turned snowy owl was knowledgeable in spells and even herbs, and this time it noticed the herbs drying above the fireplace. Single, they were harmless, but when combined, would make a very potent memory potion. And if that was Jack’s ailment, it would take something equally as potent to snap him out of it because there was no known antidote.

  After careful and very tortuous thinking—which Kai wasn’t accustomed to—an idea came to it.

  But Kai wasn’t sure if it would work.

  * * *

  The snow had melted with the sun, but I was up before then, hanging herbs to dry and preparing our morning breakfast. I couldn’t remember ever being this content before. A log fell from the fire and rolled out and onto the handwoven carpet, igniting it. I looked at it and froze it instantly. It wasn’t the height of my power, but it was all I cared to use.

  I mean…who really needed to fly?

  When those chores were finished, I checked on the Wizard, still asleep in bed. I knew he had been up late in the night at his loom and I could see a pile of clothing folded neatly on his chair. I decided to let him sleep and let the aroma of eggs and bacon do the job. I started heating water for coffee and pulled down the pan and placed it on the stove. I had bacon but needed to raid the henhouse.

  Grabbing a basket, I headed outside and walked down the path. Patches of snow remained in the shadowed corners as I emerged into a clearing where the Wizard kept a goat, a cow, a horse, and chickens. I gathered seven eggs and was on my up the path when I spotted something in a snow patch I hadn’t seen before.