Ch. 1 Frost
Beyond the footsteps of mankind, where the cold cut through skin to chill the bone, was a magical village called the North Pole. To Jack Frost, it was simply home and had been for the last millennium. Or two. He had stopped counting after the first couple of centuries.
Frost stood in the large ice cavern he used as his headquarters, staring at the wall with a map of the world carved into the frozen surface. Snow flurries representing storms shifted across the surface. His brows dipped low, and he raised his hands, swirling them in the air, summoning a storm.
“Let them freeze. Texas thinks it’s special, that it is out of Jack Frost’s reach? They couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Good morning, my friend,” Santa’s jovial voice boomed, echoing in the empty chamber. After centuries together, Frost was no longer startled by his entrances.
“Santa.”
Santa’s newest apprentice, Cris, stepped into the cavern behind Santa. “Show some respect.” Cris shivered and pulled his coat tighter around himself, and Frost smiled to see ice forming at the end of his chocolate brown curls dangling around his face. “You can call him Mr. Claus, St. Nick, or Father Christmas, but only those close to him call him Santa.”
“Why’d you bring the pup?” Frost turned his back on them, returning his attention to the storm he was about to unleash on the most arrogant of the southern states.
“Apprentices learn by example.”
“Except this one, who doesn’t learn at all.”
Santa cleared his throat, tugging on his thick beard. “Frost, you have seemed a little… on edge these past months. Have your powers become too much?”
Frost slid him a sideways glance, his hands still moving, gathering the elements needed for Texas’ snowstorm of the century. “Are you asking if my heart has frozen?”
Santa’s twinkling eyes were serious. “Yes.”
“Only a little.”
“What about the memories of your wife?”
“I can’t see her face anymore,” Frost admitted, his hands pausing in their actions. “When I dream, I just see a blurry outline. It’s been so long.”
“You need to get closer to her.”
Hope flared in Frost, but he squashed it. “No, it’s too soon.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” Cris crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve turned into a miserable prick this last century. She’s back, so go get her and spare all of us your bad moods.”
Santa’s eyes flared wide with alarm. “Cris, go back to the main house and check in with Mrs. Claus. I think she had a new batch of cookies baking.”
A muscle in Cris’ jaw flickered, but he nodded his head towards Santa. “Of course, Mr. Claus.” Cris glared at Frost when he left. Frost flicked a finger, sending a streak of ice forward underneath Cris’ boot. The apprentice yelped, his booted foot slipping from beneath him.
“Your splits are getting better,” Frost commented as Cris staggered to his feet and shot Frost a dirty glare.
“Your girl has a boyfriend,” Cris sniped back, before stomping out of the cavern.
Frost froze, the storm forgotten, as Cris’ words hit home. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Her previous reincarnations never had. “It’s a high school crush,” he muttered.
Santa cleared his throat. “She’s no longer in high school, Frost. She’s twenty-three now.”
“What? Has so much time passed?” Frost paced in front of the wall, stabbing his hands through snow white hair.
“My friend, you have waited long enough.” Santa smiled and clapped a red gloved hand on Frost’ shoulder, the closest Frost could come to physical contact with anyone without freezing their skin. “Go see her.”
Frost’s eyes fixated on the small red dot on the map marking the town of Evergreen. The muscles in his face twitched and stretched into an out of practice smile.
Yes, he’d see for himself if she was ready.
