The Frost

It was a dark night, early in the winter season. The sun had set long before the table had been filled with fruits and platters of holiday meats — most notably the large gold-rimmed oval lined with the boney shanks of a lamb slain for the holidays.

Sometimes the slaughter bothered Nell, but as the family gathered around the table to feast, he could sense the nourishment their lives would be filled with.

Their table lacked one thing: a bowl of sweetened berries, stewed into a sauce and thickened on a bed of snow.

Nell rose from the table. He glanced at the children and other members who were about to nestle into their seats and connect in a buzzing way that was filled with joy — a once a year moment when the pains and struggles vanished from most minds, and all anyone saw was the spirit of sharing this meal, this day, and what little most of them had with others who had even less.

He glanced at Ach, and their eyes met. His golden wings fluttered behind him, which earned a grin from Ach.

Behind the table, alongside a window, was a small buffet table with drawers. Hidden inside the carved wood were dishes including the dish for the berries. Nell glanced out of the window toward the barn, the white lights lit all around the edges.

“I’m stepping out to get the berries,” Nell stated.

The parts of the room that heard him nodded. Spence stepped forward. “I’m coming.”

Nell cocked his head to the side. “If you’d like to freeze…”

Spence leaned close to Corban, the two locked in whisper. While he talked to his love, Corban kneeled and searched for the dish.

When he rose again, dish in hand, the window was frozen around the edges, except for three thin finger-lines.

One of the children must have left sticky fingers, an imprint that the ice had formed around. Nell smiled it off, his heart full of the love that came with a full table. He touched the lines, as though he could connect with the child that had laid them there.

Nell’s fingers stung with ice.

He turned back to Spence. “Are you coming?” He asked.

Spence stood and brushed his hand across Corban’s back as he walked by, then he turned back and kissed Corban’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

Corban pulled him into a more proper kiss that left Nell distracted by a spider on the wall near the archway between the dining room and entryway. It was a stunning spider, black with golden specks.

Soon, Spence caught his arm. “Ready to go?”

“I am.” Nell held up the dish and the two left the dining room toward the outdoors.

In the time since they had settled inside — an hour at most — the weather had turned dark and stormy. The wind whistled past the open doorway. Nell used fire magic to heat himself, and to glow as a beacon in the dark.

“We should get the animals inside,” Nell insisted.

“I’ve got it.” Spence charged into the wind and snow. He pushed against it, the force stronger than either of them had anticipated. Somehow, it was growing.

Nell went toward the side of the house, below the window that had been iced over. He could see why now, but the fingerstrips remained. 

He kneeled to scoop the berries into the bowl. They were perfect — crisp, cold, firm but still a sort of jelly. Something cold brushed past him. There was no mind, no signature to latch onto. 

“Spence?” Nell asked. He turned into the darkness of night. The barn lights were just visible beneath the snow that blanketed the air. “Is that you?”

The wind howled. Ice nipped at Nell. He tried to heat his body more but all he felt was the cold of winter rooted inside of him.

He walked toward the barn, calling to Spence as he went. “We must get inside!” he insisted, though to who he didn’t know, there was no one there.

At last, he had made it to the barn. Nell pushed against the sliding barn door. Snow and crystals of ice burst inside the barn. It was cold, quiet. No animals hawed or heed, no clicking or snorting.

“Spence?” Nell called again.

He walked past pens. The animals lay still, their fur coated in crystals, their lips a deep blue. He pulled his arms around himself for warmth. “This. It could have been funny, perhaps it is. But…” Nell looked around and shivered. “Spence, come out.”

When Nell turned into the tack room, he found Spence, frozen in place. His eyes moved from side to side, but he could not unfreeze himself.

Nell dashed to some tools and looked for a lantern. He turned the starter until it clicked. The lantern froze in his hands.

After he set it aside, he turned back to Spence, hand on his shoulder. “I will be back.” he fled, the berries still on a workbench. He ran through the bristling cold toward the house.

When he reached for the door it was locked. He shook it with all his might. The wind whipped harder, cutting streaks of ice into his cheeks. He slunk against the door and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

He sat there, his wings frozen to the door.

As his body temperature fell, as his fire magic failed him, snow and ice swirled what Nell thought for a moment might have been the form of a man. He tipped a hat that may not have existed, and spun off with the breeze.

Nell blinked his eyes once.

His heart had slowed, his body had begun to shut down.

He tried one last time to lift his arm, to reach for the knob.

Before he could grab it, it turned. As it opened, his wings dragged his body back with it, his flesh searing where the wings began to rip. Then there was warmth. His skin turned from blue to pink.

“Where were you?” Spence asked. “I told you to wait.

“I…” Nell moved his lips until he was free to talk, free of ice. “I…”

“Met Jack Frost,” a voice whispered. Nell looked away from the house. Snow fell, a soft blanket coating the world.