And at last she was able to do something she had longed to do for months. She sealed his lips with a gesture. Now, the only sounds that would come from him were the ones that she decided he would utter.
The sleigh and four white reindeer were waiting and ready at the outer door, under a hard, blue sky without a trace of cloud. Two of the Brownies, who were also waiting, seized Kay's arms and pitched him into the sleigh. Aleksia, they aided in more gently, then one jumped up onto the driver's seat and the other jumped on behind. A flick of the reins along the reindeers' backs and they were away, out of the white-walled courtyard, down the side of the mountain, the deer running effortlessly on top of the hard-packed snow, speeding along on singing silver runners at a pace fast enough to make Kay's eyes bulge. Either he didn't remember how this sleigh had been flying through the air when she fetched him in the first place, or else he had been so excited about getting what he wanted that he hadn't paid any attention at the time.
Probably the latter, as he had been an intensely self-absorbed brat. It was amazing what changes could be made in a relatively short period.
Gerda was easy to spot at a vast distance, a single speck of brown against the snow, and the driver slowed the deer to a trot as soon as he saw her. Aleksia knew that they would see the girl long before she could see them, white-on-white as they were. Poor child…Aleksia spared a moment of pity for her. Unlike Kay, she knew this was the climax of her story, felt it instinctively if not intellectually, and she had to be on fire with nerves. Everything she had done so far had led up to this point. She was like a runner before the starting shout of a race, knowing and feeling everything she had endured to get to this point, yet not knowing what the end of the race would be.
The Brownies were watching the girl with great interest. She didn't recognize either of them, although, as was the custom for these outings, both were dressed in outfits that The Tradition deemed peculiar to Dwarves or Gnomes — red, pointed hats, heavy brown coats belted at the waist, moleskin breeches, sturdy brown boots. The Tradition deemed that Brownies should not be seen outside of a dwelling, and that the Snow Queen was too haughty and imperious to be served by Brownies anyway — yet Dwarves and Gnomes absolutely loathed the snow and ice-fields around the Palace of Ever-Winter. Since most humans couldn't tell the difference between Brownies, Dwarves and Gnomes anyway, in public her Brownies dressed like Dwarves and The Tradition seemed satisfied.
These particular Brownies might never have served this duty for her before, but every Brownie in her service was taught what their responsibilities might entail, so they both knew the way this should go. Now the driver reined in the deer a little more, and the postilion up behind made sure that Kay was still spellbound by peering into his eyes and poking him a little. The nearer they drew to the girl, the slower they went, because if Gerda did as the Bear had told her to —
Just as they got close enough to her to see her expression, and Aleksia noted that her face was full of a mixture of fear and determination, she stepped out in front of the deer and flung up her hands. The driver hauled on the reins to stop the deer; since by that time they were hardly going faster than a walk, that was easy enough. Aleksia had to work hard to keep from smiling. All, so far, was going according to plan.
Gerda grabbed the reins of the lead deer and hung on to make sure they were going nowhere.
At this point, the girl in question sometimes made a brave speech; Gerda's mouth opened a little but nothing came out. Aleksia decided to give her a bit of prompting, just to get her going.
“How dare you!” Aleksia barked haughtily. “Don't you know who I am? I am the Snow Queen, the ruler of the Palace of Ever-Winter, before whom the mountains tremble! Leave go of my animals, miserable wench, and be on your way!”
“Not without Kay,” Gerda replied, looking to where Kay sat beside Aleksia, held fast in her spell, looking straight ahead with no more expression or recognition than a statue.
“You stole him from me. I'll have him back, now.”
Aleksia allowed one brow to arch up significantly. “Oh? Really? Is he your servant? Your slave? You hardly look to be more than a wretched peasant, a mere chit of a worthless girl. But if he is your slave, I will buy him from you.” She nodded to the postilion, who fished a single gold coin from his pocket and dropped it contemptuously at Gerda's feet.
“Now, be off.” Aleksia motioned to the driver, who, of course, knowing his duty, did nothing to drive away.
“He's not my slave, and you stole him away from those who love him!” Gerda said indignantly, her cheeks flaming. “I saw you!”
“What is all this stealing and taking back nonsense, then?” Aleksia scoffed. “If you saw him go with me, you know he came freely and of his own will.”
“I know you have frozen his heart,” the girl replied courageously, her cheeks bright red now, and her eyes wide and frightened-looking despite the determination in them. Poor thing, she was terrified. But that was the point of all of this. If this was to work, she would have to be the one keeping Kay's feet on the ground. She would have to stand up to him in a temper, when he didn't want to be bothered. She had to be made of very stern stuff. It would be just as frightening to have to stand up to the one she loved as it was to stand up to the evil Snow Queen. There would be times when she would have to remind herself of that. “I know he is not himself. Free him! Let him make his own choices!”
Aleksia laughed at her, putting a world of scorn and withering contempt into her voice — just as Kay would probably do in a temper. In fact, everything that she was doing now was to test her to see if her own self-worth was strong enough to stand up to the worst the one she loved could deliver. It is so much harder to take a hint of scorn from the beloved than a verbal battering from an enemy…. Kay would always be more intelligent, more clever than Gerda was. She had to know, deep inside her, that what she offered was just as important and just as valuable as wit and intelligence. “Very well, child, if you want him so badly, see if you can take him!”
She sat back in the seat of her sleigh with an air of haughty and confident amusement. Gerda did not need a second invitation; she grabbed Kay by the collar of his fur cloak and hauled him out of the sleigh bodily.
No matter how many times she did this, Aleksia always found the moment when the girl tried to hold to her boy fascinating. Not that the boy ever varied his performance; he couldn't, since he was, for the first time since she had taken him away to her Palace, actually spellbound. No, it was how the girls reacted that was fascinating. This was where she showed what she was truly made of, and how she was going to face living with her young man in the future.
Kay seemed to wake from a trance, and his face went from stony to as haughty as Aleksia's. “Let go of me, peasant!” he spat, trying to brush off her clinging arms, then actually fighting to get her to loosen her hold. “Stupid, ignorant filth! Unhand me! Who do you think I am? I am Kay, chosen consort of the Snow Queen! You are — who? I never saw you before! You are nothing! You know nothing and do not care that you know nothing! What are you,
