Cursed Chapter 4: Compulsion, a frozen fanfic

Summary: You have five days to break the curse. Break the curse. Save her life.

Chapter Four

- Compulsion -

- The Third Day -

"Compulsion is old magic – gateway to the foulest of sorceries," Owein muttered to himself. He paced back and forth across the violet-shaded hall, fingers shaking and grasping at things Anna couldn't see. "To compel is the rob someone of the thing most precious."

"Is that what happened to my sister?" Anna asked, but Owein didn't hear her – or chose not to. So she tried again. "Last night we found her in the library, pouring through Arendelle's histories . . . something about the Old King."

"All lies," Owein whispered.

Suddenly furious, Anna marched around and tried to pull the mad man around. For once her fingers connected with flesh, and she spun Owein as easily as she would a toddler. "What are you...? she trailed off, gasping. Owein's eyes had gone pale, glassed over like the film on a dead man's eyes.

Owein burst into uproarious laughter. His shoulders shook and heaved, and the man doubled over, clutching his stomach as he rolled with mirth. "She can't find it! SHE CAN'T FIND IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Anna tripped over her own feet as she backed away and tried to force herself out of the Dream.

Still shaking, Owein muttered to himself again. "Not there, and no place too simple. I must make her work for it. The harder she searches the less likely she is to suspect. . ."

The Dream closed around Anna and she fled back to the waking world.

Three days, Princess Anna.

You have three days to break the curse.

Elsa's lips moved ceaselessly, muttering rasped whispers of things Anna couldn't quite hear. She had long since given up trying.

The storm had blown itself out to sea by dawn. Anna watched it through the crack in the window shutters, only turning away when Elsa's restless whispers came to a crescendo of screams. Anna couldn't comfort her when whatever nightmares gripped her. All she could do was hold Elsa as she thrashed and try to stop herself from crying. She wanted to seek the comfort of the Dream, but she was too scared to return with Owein in the state he was in. So, she sat with Elsa and waited for dawn.

She hadn't slept.

Had she?

How could she?

How could she rest when Kristoff was still out there? She had warned him, hadn't she? "Be back before the storm," she had said, and Kristoff promised he would be. And Kristoff wasn't one to break promises – not to her.

He's dead.

He's not!

He's dead.

Half the night had passed before she realised she was only arguing with herself.

"Princess Anna?"

Anna twisted around, looking over Elsa's bed to the door. Chancellor Kai filled the gap, hesitantly bearing a tray with a steaming teapot and a set of cups. "Kai," said Anna, standing. "Come in, please."

"How is she?" the chancellor asked. He approached Elsa's bed and looked down at the sleeping queen.

Anna had to consider the question. "It was a terrible night," she said. But even that didn't seem to cover it.

"Did you sleep?"

Anna shook her head. "I tried, but I couldn't stop thinking about Kristoff. I'm . . . I'm really worried."

"Guard Captain Evangeline has taken a countryside to search for him," Kai said. "they left as soon as the storm passed over. She said she would visit the trolls first and trace Kristoff's footsteps from there… Evangeline is a capable woman, princess. If anyone can find Kristoff it will be her."

Anna sniffled. "I hope you're right."

Kai inclined his head. "I brought you some tea. Come out into the sitting room with me."

Anna stood hesitantly. "But. . ."

"We will be right outside if the Queen stirs," Kai assured her. "You need to look after yourself too."

Kai lead Anna out of Elsa's bed chamber and placed the tray down on a table in front of the fire. The servants had kept the flames in the hearth fed throughout the night, so the room was quite toasty. Anna sat in one of the armchairs by the fire, let Kai pour her a cup of tea and press it into her hands. The liquid was warm and tasted lightly of peppermint leaves.

"Kai?" Anna asked when they were both settled in front of the fire.

"Yes, Princess?"

"When we found Elsa in the library she was looking through the history books. . ."

"And children's stories, if I remember correctly."

"Yes," said Anna. "It seemed like she was searching for one story in particular . . . the one about the Old King who rescued the woman from wolves."

"You're referring to the tale of the Night's Queen?" Kai said, and Anna nodded.

"I don't remember much about the story," Anna said. "I haven't heard it since I was a girl."

"It's not a tale a parent tells their child to lull them to sleep," Kai said. "In face, I'm rather surprised you've even heard the story before."

"Rolf told it to me one evening, back when mother and father were still alive. There wasn't much for me to do in the palace growing up, so I liked to go to the stables to pass the time. He used to tell all the children stories before supper."

"Did he now?" Kai scratched his chin. "I didn't realise..."

"If Elsa's looking through those stories then they must be important!"

"Perhaps," admitted Kai. "Although I fail to see what an old story has to do with her majesty's affliction."

It has been stricken from the histories. Owein's voice sounded distant. Her final prophecy . . . her dying promise . . . You must break the curse, Anna.

"Will you tell me the story?"

"Princess, I...?"

"Please, Kai..."

Kai hesitated once more, but then relented. "I will try," he said, clearing his throat. The chancellor had a good voice for stories. It was a deep, aged voice, and it gave every word weight.

"A thousand years ago," Kai began, "before Arendelle was the kingdom you know now, it was ruled by more than a dozen kings, who each lorded over a portion of land. The most powerful of these kings was the Old King, also known as the Gywnnbled, who ruled over this very fjord. While out riding one morning, the Gywnnbled and his company came upon a woman who was desperately trying to fend off a pack of wolves. The king thought it was a miracle that the woman still lived, for her horse and all her attendants were dead.

"The king and his company drove away the wolves, then he wrapped the woman in his own cloak, clothed her, fed her, and took her back to his hold where she would be safe. Within a month he had married her, for the woman was very beautiful, and the Gywnnbled's wife had recently died."

"She was a sorceress, wasn't she?"

"So the legends say," Kai said, nodding. "In the weeks leading to the wedding, the woman spun her spells and did away with anyone who might challenge her – including the Gywnnbled own sons. Only the youngest escaped the sorceress, after a loyal servant took him away and fled south.

"For thirteen years the Northern lands bled. Foul, unspeakable rites were performed by this sorceress queen and her ensorcelled husband."

"Like what?"

Horrible things.

You would tear off your ears and scratch out your own eyes to hear or see even half of it.

You must break the curse, Anna.

Break the curse.

You still have three days.

"I could not tell you, even if I wanted to," Kai continued. The legends say they were dark things, black things, and best left forgotten."

"What happened then? You said for 'thirteen years'. What happened afterwards."

"The Gywnnbled's youngest son – your ancestor – entreated the Southern kingdoms of Corona and Ovelia for aid. He even married the King of Corona's youngest daughter to secure the allegiance. Then the combined might of the south sailed to Arendelle, rooted the sorceress queen from the castle she had built for herself and burned her alive at the stake. With his queen's death, the enchantment fled the Old King, and, unable to live with the things he had done, he threw himself from the castle walls and onto the rocks at the base of the fjord."

Gods.

She must not be free.

Break the curse, Anna.

"The Gywnnbled's son became king, and with Southern influence, built the kingdom we now know as Arendelle." Kai rubbed his hands together. "So, you see, Princess, the story recounts a dark time in Arendelle's history, although like most legends, the truth has mostly been lost to the centuries."

"What do you mean?"

"Well . . . you must remember, Princess, that this happened at a time when your ancestors did not keep a written history. Such record-keeping came into prominence with the church. Many of our stories are recordings of tales passed on from parent to child for generations. Whatever the truth behind those tales, they have been long since lost to history."

"So the Night Queen may not have been real at all?" Anna asked.

"No, no," Chancellor Kai shook his head. "The histories all agree that there was an ancient king who married the woman who became known as the Night's Queen. Whether or not that woman was a sorceress or not is unclear, but even the recorded histories of Ovelia and Corona speak their armies sailing north to overthrow a Northern queen."

Anna considered this for a long time. "Why is Elsa . . . obsessed with that story?"

"That, Princess, I'm afraid I do not know."

Break the curse, Anna.

You still have three days.

The vestige of hope Anna had squirrelled away was shattered when Guard Captain Evangeline's patrol cantered back into the palace courtyard an hour before noon. At the back of the column came Sven, with a familiar old boulder with mossy hair and rough-spun clothes atop his back.

But Kristoff wasn't with them.

Anna met Evangeline in the Entrance Hall, but the woman only shook her head when she saw Anna approach. "I'm sorry, Anna," Evangeline said. "The storm washed away any tracks Kristoff might have left behind. We went to the troll village, as you suggested, and their elder insisted on returning with us." Evangeline's mouth twitched sadly. "We found the reindeer there."

But not Kristoff... Anna thought sadly.

"You should listen to what the old rock has to say," Evangeline said. "If half of what he says happens to be true. . ." She shook her head in wry amusement. "I don't know why I doubt anymore, especially after seeing the things Queen Elsa can do."

Anna left Evangeline and approached Elder Pabbie, who was pointedly ignoring the curious looks cast at him from the others in the courtyard. "You'd think not one of them has seen a troll before," he grumbled and rumbled. Then he saw Anna and his voice became uneasy. "Sven found his way to me moments before the storm hit the forest in earnest," he said. "I had hoped . . . I had hoped Kristoff had returned to you."

"He never came home," Anna replied, and tried to mask how much it hurt to say. "When he left the castle, he said he was going to speak to you."

"He did," Pabbie said. "But he didn't stay for long." He hesitated. "Princess, horribly evil magic was performed in the forest yesterday and I fear that Kristoff has been swept away by it."

Anna felt like she'd been punched. "Is he . . . is he dead?" she said in a small voice.

"I cannot say for certain," Pabbie replied. "The forest depths are hidden from my eyes, but I don't think so. He carried a powerful protection with him – the crones could not have harmed him, even if they wanted to."

"The crones?" Anna asked.

"Ancient witches who dwell in the depths of the forest. I begged Kristoff not to seek them out, but he was desperate."

This is all my fault.

"I need to find him, Pabbie," Anna said. "I won't be able to live with myself if he dies because of me."

"I know. . ." Pabbie said.

"You're leaving?" Elsa asked Anna. A slow, confused frown etched over the queen's face. Her eyes seemed vacant, always shifting and drifting in the direction of the library three floors away.

"Kristoff didn't return last night," Anna explained as patiently as she could. "I'm going with Pabbie to find him."

"Oh, your honeymoon, of course!" Elsa exclaimed, as if she had not heard a word Anna said. "I'd forgotten."

"No, Elsa, that's not what. . ." But there was no use trying to explain again.

"Remember to enjoy yourself, Anna," Elsa said sagely. "And try not to worry about anything. I can manage the kingdom just fine without you here."

It was a repeat of one of their last conversations before all this had started, on the eve of Anna's wedding to Kristoff. Anna had been so much happier then, but now Anna just felt like crying.

A sickening smell curled towards Anna when Pabbie called the company to a halt – something damp, like wet earth mixed with something foul. The trees twisted together this deep in the forest, branches entwined together and choked with fist-thick vines. Anna's stomach stirred uncomfortable, and she had to keep her hands pressed tightly together to keep them from shaking.

Kristoff came here?

Alone?

"This is the place," Pabbie said. He drew the line of soldiers to a stop in front of a narrow opening in the wall of vines and trees. "You must leave the horses here. They can't proceed, nor will they want to. I will stay, watch over the horses and await your return."

"You're not coming with us?" Anna asked.

"I dare not go any further," Pabbie replied, shaking his mossy head.

"You needn't fear, princess" Evangeline snorted from the head of the column. "The crones are only stories to frighten children. Whatever's on the other side of those trees cannot harm us."

"I admire your confidence, captain," Pabbie said, "but I assure you that the crones are real." Evangeline scoffed, but Anna noticed the way her hand automatically touched the pommel of her longsword. Pabbie turned back to Anna. "Do you have the gift?"

"Yes," Anna said and touched the pouch tied to her saddle. Inside was a gaudy golden tiara pulled from the depths of Arendelle's treasury. It was quite weighty, and rather ugly for something so valuable.

"Do not speak to them any more than you have to," Pabbie warned. "Find Kristoff and do not tarry. Promise me, Anna."

Anna nodded. "I promise." She tried so hard to ignore the ache chewing a hole through her heart.

Evangeline and her soldiers had finished securing their horses and were waiting by the gap in the trees. "Are you ready, princess?" Evangeline asked.

"Yes."

"I'll go first," Evangeline announced. She didn't sound scared. Anna wished that she could summon that kind of fearlessness in the face of what they were about to do. The thought of climbing through that narrow opening made her legs shake. "If the path is clear then I will call back for you to follow."

"And if it isn't," one of her soldiers asked.

"Then see Lady Anna safely back to the palace." Evangeline made good on her word and strode towards the black opening. The trees shuddered as she passed. An eternity seemed to stretch on in silence. The soldiers shifted restlessly, their hands gripping their pikes and sword hilts in a chorus of rattles and shivers.

This place isn't natural, Anna thought, looking up at the low-hanging canopy of branches and vines. I should hear birds, insects . . . anything. Even the air smelt stagnant and tasted of decay.

Where are you? Owein's dream-like voice sounded scared.

I cannot see you?

Am I going mad?

Do you even exist at all?

The curse sings to me.

She sings to me.

Who? Anna thought back, but Owein didn't seem to hear her.

"The way is clear." Evangeline's voice made Anna jump. The captain's voice drifted through the opening in the trees. "There's a clearing on the other side, yet I don't see or hear anything."

"But they are there all the same," Pabbie said quietly, so only Anna could hear.

Two of the soldiers stayed behind to wait with the horses, while Anna and the remaining soldiers followed Evangeline into the hole, although they followed with much more trepidation than their captain had shown.

For Kristoff. The thought of her husband made Anna brave.

The path through the opening was difficult, with twigs and branches catching and pulling at Anna's hair and clothes. It was almost like the trees themselves were trying to stop Anna from entering the grove. Anna felt her way forward blindly, and took comfort in the sounds of the soldiers clearing the way ahead of her. And then it was over. Sunlight assaulted Anna's eyes as she stumbled into the snow-swept grove and fell to her knees.

Evangeline was there to pull her to her feet. "I don't like it here," she said quietly, as she helped Anna dust snow off her skirts. "The sooner we leave this place the better."

"I'm not without Kristoff," said Anna.

"We should have seen some trace if he. . ." Evangeline cut off as a voice hissed through the gaps between the trees, propelled forward and around them by a fell breeze that should have died long before it reached them.

"Who goes?"

Goosebumps rose on Anna's arms, and she clutched them tightly to her chest. The soldiers stirred, and Evangeline moved in front of Anna, gloved hand gripping her sword.

"I see a woman," A second voice said from the trees. This one was rough like gravel, old and wizened and so different from the youthful husk of the first.

"One kissed by fire?" the first voice said.

"'Tis the sister!"

"Shut it!"

The second voice coughed. "Accompanied by soldiers clothed in blue."

"And another?"

"Aye.

"With golden hair.

"And silver gloves.

"And fierce love."

"Unrequited love." The first voice corrected. Then two voices descended into rough cackles as Evangeline half-drew her sword.

"Why do you hide in the shadows?" Evangeline shouted to the trees. "Come out and face us."

"We desire nothing from ye," the first voice sneered at Evangeline. "Do as thou heart commands and turn tail."

"Turn tail," the second voice guffawed. "Craven!"

"I fear no mortal thing," Evangeline declared furiously. "Come and see."

The voices cackled.

Anna placed a comforting hand on Evangeline's arm and drew her back. "Don't let them get under your skin," she warned.

"Wise words from one not so wise," the first voice said. What hast thou come for, hair of fire? Why doth thou disturb us?"

thud. . .

"So many guests!" the second voice moaned. "After so many centuries alone. Day-by-day they come!"

"Still thy tongue!" the first voice thundered, and the second voice descended into incoherent babbling.

Anna stepped forward. "I'm looking for a man. . ."

More laughter.

"My husband," Anna continued, heat flaring in her cheeks. "He came to speak with the crones yesterday."

thud...

"So tall..." The first witch said.

"So handsome..." The second.

"Hair of gold."

"Hands of snow."

"Heart of love."

Laughter.

"You did see him then?" Anna pressed forward. "Where is he? Did you tell him what he wanted to know?"

"So many questions for one who cometh without tribute."

thud...

"We shall not answer a single question more," the second voice crowed.

"Not unless payment is received."

The tiara! Anna grabbed at the strings sealing the pouch and pulled the golden tiara free. "I brought you gold," she said, and tossed the tiara in the snow in the middle of the grove.

"Ohhh, the smell of it!" the first voice moaned.

"She smells so purely of love," the second voice rumbled. "Oh, how it moves us."

"How it does," the first voice agreed. "But thy gold shall do. . . Ask thy question, hair of fire."

Kristoff. . .

"My husband came to see you yesterday," Anna said hesitantly. "And he did not return home. Where is he?"

The crones hooted and every tree in the grove shook. "He's gone – and you shall not see him again."

The desperate hope in Anna's stomach plummeted away. She tried to swallow the nausea that rose in her throat as pins prickled in her cheeks and her hands shook. "Y-you're lying," she managed to stammer.

"He's gone."

"And ye shall not see him again."

Thud. . .

"He can't be gone!" Anna clutched at her heart. "I can still feel him here."

Thud. . .

"That sound. . ." Evangeline said, but Anna couldn't hear her. Tears formed and fell down her cheeks.

"Where is he?!" she cried, but the crones only laughed.

"Ye have thy answer," the first crone said. "And ye shall not receive another."

THUD. . .

"But neither can we allow ye to leave this place," the first crone said. "Not when ye could still ruin such carefully-laid plans."

"Something's coming, Princess!" Evangeline shouted, and threw Anna behind her. Her sword escaped its sheathe in one smooth motion, and glittered brightly against the snow.

"GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The crones' laughter filled Anna's ears.

THUD

The trees on the other side of the grove shuddered, as an unnatural roar ripped through the grove, drowning all other sounds. In all of Anna's dreams before her helpless sight . . . no picture or perverse nightmare could describe. Shaggy brown hair hung in patches from the creatures back, and arms so thick and bulging with corded muscle hung from disjointed shoulders and dragged across the snow. Antlers sprung from the creature's head, each prong wickedly sharp and twisted.

"What is that thing?!" one of the soldier's gasped.

"Get the princess away from here!" Evangeline screamed the order at her men and sprang forward. The creature's black eyes narrowed on her and it roared again. It crashed forward, moving with far greater speed than its bulk would suggest. Evangeline sprinted, rolled under its hulking, sweeping arm and lashed out with her sword.

Black blood spurted and steamed as it touched the snow.

Pain fuelled the beast's anger, and it tore after Evangeline, who lead it as far away from the grove's opening as she could.

"Quickly, princess," One of the soldier's dashed over to Anna and took hold of her arm. "We have to leave!"

"But . . . but Evangeline . . . we can't leave her!"

"The captain is fine. Look at her," the soldier replied as he pulled Anna towards the opening. A quick glance back told her the soldier was telling her the truth. Evangeline almost seemed a blur of near-dodges and counter strokes. Whenever her sword flashed, the monster bled. "But she won't be if we keep wasting time!"

The opened appeared in front of her once more and Anna threw herself through. Returning was much easier, and soon she was back in the damp darkness of the other side, panting in the middle of Evangeline's soldiers.

"What happened?" Pabbie padded over to Anna. "I've never heard such sounds before."

Anna could only shake her head. Her heart ached; she knew that if she spoke the words aloud then they would become true.

"Mount up!" one of Evangeline's soldiers ordered the group. "We leave as soon as the captain gets through that hole."

"But. . ." protested Anna.

"I'm sorry, Princess," the soldier said. "But if we stay then that thing will tear us all apart."

The leaves framing the grove's entrance shook, then Evangeline dove though, sword still wet with the beast's blood clutched in her fist. "Why aren't you all in your saddles yet?" she demanded as she staggered to her feet, favouring her left leg. Anna noticed a red stain growing on the captain's breeches.

"Did you kill it?" Anna asked, as she took the reins from the soldier holding her horse and swung up. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Evangeline's blood-drenched sword.

"I doubt I even slowed it down," Evangeline said. She limped towards her horse and leapt onto its back. "I've never seen anything so terrible before, and I'd rather not be here any longer." She glared at the soldiers who hadn't gotten on their horses yet. "I gave you an order. In your saddles. Now!"

A terrible noise nearby made everyone freeze and forget themselves.

The trees rustled furiously. Branches cracked and vines snapped as a huge hulking arm thrust through the gap, quickly followed by the beast's horrifically distorted head.

Suddenly everyone was shouting at once. Anna dimly heard Evangeline bellowing orders, but no one could hear her properly over the sounds of their own screams and the roars of the beast. The horses shrieked and reared. Anna's normally docile mare screeched loudly and bolted away down a narrow branching path as fast as it could. Anna threw herself flat, holding onto the pommel for dear life.

The sombre silence in the palace corridors swept the fog from Elsa's head. She stopped, mid-step, and looked around the empty passage. Her footstep rang around her, bouncing from wall to wall before vanishing at the shrouded portrait of King Agnarr and Queen Iduna.

Why is it so quiet? Elsa wondered as she looked at her parent's portrait, expecting to feel the hollow twinge in her heart. But she hardly felt a thing. Where's everyone gone? She hadn't heard anyone leave the palace, but everything had been so . . . fuzzy lately. Her mind felt like it was stuffed to her ears with thick wool which couldn't shake it out, no matter how hard she tried. Whenever she rose to do something or go somewhere, she would find herself in another part of the palace with no memory of how she got there or why she had gone there in the first place

But she knew where she wanted to go.

Her parents' painted eyes followed her.

A yearning filled her body and drove her feet forward like a man who had glimpsed a river after days of wandering in the southern deserts. A small part of her railed against it, but was dragged, screaming and kicking along with the rest of Elsa.

Where is everyone? Had she had that thought before? She was dimly aware of screams reverberating through the hallways, emanating from the direction Elsa had come. Is Anna on her honeymoon? I thought I saw her this morning. . . She stopped and rubbed her eyes. Why was it so hard to think?

Huh?

The library's thick, oaken doors were in front of her. How did I? Panic swelled in her chest, fuelled by her fear and confusion. She felt it build in her hands, and the air around her fingertips grew cold.

No! she remembered. That's not who I am anymore!

Resolute, Elsa battered away her panic and tried to sift through the fog. I was at my parents' portrait, she remembered that much, at least. But the portrait was two floors away, and Elsa had no memory of the journey in between.

She touched the handle to open the library door, but at the touch of the cool metal, Elsa jerked her hand away as if it burned. I don't want to . . . I didn't. . . Why was it so hard to think?

"Hello?" a soft, sweet voice travelled down the hallway. Elsa started and whirled around. A little girl watched her not a half-dozen paces away. Her eyes were wide, with iris's cloudy and blue, and her hair was as colourless as the snow falling outside.

"You . . . you scared me," Elsa said, remembering herself enough to smile at the little girl. "Are you lost, little one?"

"Nay," the girl replied.

"Where are you parents?"

The little girl tilted her head. "Mother works in the kitchens."

"And your father?"

"He died."

"Oh . . . I'm so sorry."

"T'was afore I was born." The little girl shrugged, as if it was really of no consequence to her. Elsa might have found that odd, but the fog . . . why was it so hard to think?

"Come," Elsa said, and held out her hand. "I'll take you back to your mother. It's so easy to get lost in the palace."

"But I'm not lost," the little girl replied. She tilted her head as she looked at Elsa, and then at the door to the library. "Do you want to go inside?"

"I . . . I do." But I shouldn't.

"Then will ye read to me?" There was something wrong with the little girl's eyes, but Elsa couldn't place it.

"I . . ."

DON'T, the nagging voice inside her head screamed at her, but it was like it screamed to Elsa through double-glazed glass.

"Of course I will," Elsa told the little girl as she opened the library door.

The forest whipped by in a blur as Anna's spooked mare crashed through the undergrowth. The narrow-trail twisted and turned, and the mare nearly stumbled several times in her headlong place. Anna had only ever been a rider of passable skill; all she could do was hold on for dear life and pray that she wouldn't be thrown.

It seemed like an age, but eventually the mare slowed and came to a stop, sides steaming and nose flaring with every breath. Anna's legs shook with adrenaline as she removed her feed from the stirrups and slid out of the saddle. "It's okay," she murmured to the frightened and exhausted horse, not wanting her to spook and run again. "It's okay."

The forest still formed a canopy above Anna's head, but tiny beams of sunlight pierced the mess of branches and trees. Grass grew tall in those spots, while the rest of the clearing was covered in dead leaves, moss and dirt.

Anna's eyebrows rose in surprise.

A ramshackle village filled the clearing. It was tiny, with only three structures large enough to be called a house. And it was old – very old. The thatch on the rooves was rotted and brown and the wooden walls stunk of wet decay.

I've never heard of this place before, thought Anna. The troll village was the only settlement she knew of that was in the forest. This place was certainly on no map of Arendelle Anna had ever seen.

Anna lead the mare towards a rocky stream that cut through the middle of the clearing and let her drink. "I wonder how far you took me," she said idly. She couldn't hear that horrible beast anymore, but she also couldn't hear Evangeline, Pabbie or the soldiers. That filled her with worry. "They're not dead," she said certainly. "No way." In fact, she was sure that they'd be looking for her as soon as they managed to give that beast the slip – or had killed it. Hopefully they had killed it.

The largest of the structures loomed over them. The door had long since been torn off its hinges, making it seem like a mouth gaping open to devour all who walked inside.

It crooned to her, and Anna felt herself drop the rein's and take a step towards it.

Then she caught a whiff of something foul and wrinkled her nose. The mare smelt it too, for her nostrils flared in alarm, showing the red hollows within. She began to shy away, but Anna quickly picked up the reins again and held them tightly. The mare jerked her head, trying to pull Anna away from the house and back towards the narrow path.

Surprised, Anna glanced to her left, to where the trees became thick again. She had thought the smell must have come from some dead animal. Instead, with an instant shock of horror, she saw a half-rotting corpse shambling out from between the gap of two trees, one putrid, decomposing hand stretched towards her. It still wore the filthy remains of a shroud. One shrivelled breast showed through the rags, its eye sockets were empty, eaten out. Its hair hung down in long, dirt-caked worms. Slowly it stumbled towards Anna, the stench coming over her in waves that made her retch.

Anna's mare neighed and reared, tearing her head free of Anna's loosened grasp on the reins, and bolted back in the direction she had come. The sudden movement knocked Anna to her knees, the dead woman staggering closer to her with each ungainly step.

Anna scrambled to her feet as the dead woman lurched forward, decaying arms held open as if to embrace her. As her bony fingers seized her and drew her closer, the foul stench almost overwhelmed her. She stared into the empty eye-sockets so close to hers where she could see the wriggle of white maggots still feeding. Violently, she pushed the walking corpse away, staggering backwards. She fell, her mouth open as if to shriek, and as she hit the ground her skin burst open like an overripe plum, putrid flesh spilling out with a liquid splash that caused Anna to bend and vomit violently. Again and again she retched, until her stomach had nothing left to give, and then she broke into a stumbling run.

Another corpse stood behind her. Anna cannoned into it before she could stop herself. She cried out in horror and recoiled, as the rotting body reached out with pleading hands, grasping her arm. Anna wrenched her sleeve away, feeling it tear. "Stop it!" she cried. "Leave me alone!"

More dead emerged from the forest and through the openings in the houses. A horrible keening sound filled the air, and Anna thought she could hear words among the sobbing and wailing.

Anna backed away from them all, turning on her heel. On all sides stood emaciated corpses, all looking at her with empty eye sockets and reaching out to touch her. A few of them were mere skeletons, their jerking bones held together by some invisible force. Most horribly, some were no taller than Anna's thigh.

She heard her mare's trumpeting neigh, and very human shouts emanating from the narrow path Anna had come down. Anna ducked her head and ran towards the sounds, eyes full of frightened tears.

All four of the library's fires burned merrily in their hearths, but all the lanterns were cold. Long shadows flickered and moved above, dark, twisting fingers stretched towards Elsa and brushed her legs. Elsa frowned and searched about for one of the book-keepers who spent their days cataloguing and record-keeping here.

But the library was empty and still.

But it shouldn't be. A stray thought . . . why was it so hard to think?

Elsa lead the little girl to the table where the books and stories of Arendelle's history had been neatly stacked from the night before. "What book do you want to look at?"

The little girl cast her eyes over the table and shook her head. "None of these."

"Well, we have a whole library full of books. When I was your age I used to read..." Elsa trailed off. What did I used to read?

Why was it so hard to think?

"I want ye to read me something special," the little girl said, wandering away. "T'was hidden away . . . for such a long time. Whither could it be?" Elsa watched the little girl walk in a slow circle, and then she froze, mid-step and pointed at the northern-most fireplace. "Look – the hearth." the little girl exclaimed, and brought Elsa forward.

Elsa followed, gliding towards the girl's pointed finger without really knowing why. When they were close enough to feel the heat of the flames, the girl stretched her fingertips towards the flames and closed them into a fist.

The fire snuffed out – even the tendrils of smoke vanished.

Something hammered inside Elsa's mind – like a nattering voice that refused to go away. It reminded her of Anna, in the years before the Thaw. Why is it so hard to think?

The little girl tugged on Elsa's sleeve. "Ye must weave your magicks now. It must be ye."

She didn't want to do it, but it felt so right. Ice slipped from her fingertips and filled the trenches between each stone slab in the hearth. When she was finished, the stones groaned in protest then fell away, revealing a gap in the hearth barely wide enough for Elsa to squeeze through. Darkness emanated from the hole. Elsa wanted to tear her eyes away and run, but she couldn't. Her best senses were suffocated by the fog.

But still that Anna-like voice nagged at her.

Screamed at her.

The little girl trounced forward gleefully, pulling Elsa along with her. "Down, down, down the stairs ye go!"

Blackness closed around her, but Elsa's feet found the stone steps like she was walking in sunlight. The little girl pulled her forward. Elsa could hear her dancing on the steps, cackling with excitement.

"Princess!" Guard Captain Evangeline exclaimed when Anna came barrelling back out of the narrow trail and into the relative safety of her companions. "When I saw your horse come hurtling through I thought. . . You shouldn't have ridden off like that! If I had lost you I. . ." Anna heaved, sucking in as much air as she could. Evangeline's tone suddenly became concerned. "What is it? What's down there?"

"A village," Anna puffed in-between breaths. She couldn't frame the words to articulate what she had seen. "Don't go down there!"

"Anywhere's better than going ahead," Evangeline said. "That beast tore right through us. Landon's horse bolted with him still on it, and the creature tore after it instead of dealing with us. If there's a village the way you came, then it makes sense that there would be another path out of this Godforsaken place."

"No!" Anna clutched Evangeline's sleeve. "It's not safe that way."

"It's not safe this way," Evangeline countered. "That thing already caught Landon. We heard the screams. We need to get out of here before it finishes with him and comes back to us!"

Anna was already shaking her head. "You don't understand! Evangeline, there's . . . walking dead that way. Dead people, corpses, coming out of the trees."

Evangeline's eyebrows shot up and she peered down the darkened track Anna had come from. "Dead people?"

Anna nodded. "One of them took hold of me." She shuddered involuntarily, feeling nausea rise in her throat. "I pushed her off me and she . . . she fell apart. But there were others. I saw them moving in the trees and coming out of the houses and . . . arrgh I can still smell them!" Her stomach won out again and she leant over, retching.

"Dead walk through the trees and perverted beasts hunt us," Evangeline spat. "Delightful place this is."

"My forest," Pabbie moaned, holding his head in his hands. "What's happening to my forest?!"

The other soldiers looked terrified too. Their eyes searched the trees and listened to the sounds of the beast roaring in the distance, blocking their escape. It all seemed so hopeless.

I don't want to die here! Anna thought.

Only Evangeline didn't look frightened, just angry. "You, Rock Troll," she said, jabbing her finger at Pabbie. "You say we'll be safe in your valley, isn't that right?"

"Yes, but. . ." Pabbie started, but Evangeline cut him off.

"Then you need to lead us there."

"The way is blocked."

"Then you must find another way!" Evangeline bellowed. "Or we'll all die here."

A roar shook the leaves, quickly followed by the thud of heavy hooves and clawed hands.

"Oh, God, it's coming back!" one of the soldiers moaned.

Evangeline swung into her saddle and Pabbie leapt over, taking position in front of her. One of the soldiers quickly brought Anna's exhausted and scraped mount over and helped Anna into the saddle. She didn't have the energy to clamber on unaided.

The beast burst through the trees and skidded to a halt when it saw them, as if surprised to see them still there. Wet blood drenched the creatures mouth and hands. The beast roared once more, padded the dirt and sprung forward.

"RIDE!" Evangeline bellowed, kicking her horse into action. "Ride for your lives!"

The closeness of the trees forced the terrified horses and riders into the single file, but there was no need to direct them with reins or encourage them with spurs. The horses ran as a herd, blindly following the steps of the leader down the narrow tracks and overgrown paths. Branches hooked at their clothes and vines tried to trip them, but they still couldn't slow the thundering pace set by Evangeline's black destrier. The beast crashed after them, barrelling through the trees and tearing branches as though they were made of paper.

Evangeline jerked her reins at the start of the column and pulled her horse out into a wider path. The snow and mushy dirt was rippled with horse-shoe and boot prints. Anna's mare slid and skidded, and Anna yelped with fright as the mare nearly fell. One of the soldiers near the end of the line wasn't so lucky. It lost its footing and fell on its side, screaming and struggling with its rider still flailing in the saddle.

The beast barely paused. It slid into a tree, then resumed its frantic pace, trampling the soldier as it went.

When Anna looked over her shoulder she could see the white in the beast's crazed eyes.

"We're nearly at the valley," Pabbie shouted over his shoulder. "Just a little further."

"Always a little further," Anna heard Evangeline say, although her voice was all-but muted over the sound of hooves and heavy breathing.

Sunlight burst through the trees and rocky cliffs rose on either side. Hope swelled in Anna's heart for the first time since the crones had spoken their poison back in the grove. She urged her horse into greater speed. The stream lay in front of them, the white waters rippling over the rocks. The horses thundered over the narrow bridge, and as soon as the final one had crossed, Pabbie threw himself from the back of Evangeline's horse and stood on the stone.

"Pabbie!" Anna cried out, and turned her horse around. The other horses and stopped too, sides heaving and nostrils flaring from the exertion. Pabbie raised his arms, eyes closed, and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

The beast reached the bridge and charged over it, but at the last moment, just as it looked like Pabbie would be trampled, the creature's black eyes widened, and it threw itself back. Its mass skidded and slipped against the stone until it collapsed under its own weight.

"The barrier. . ." Pabbie heaved. "No creature touched by evil may pass unharmed."

"'Touched by'?" one of the soldiers exclaimed incredulously. "Surely there is no light in a fiend such as that!"

The beast regained its footing and snarled at them, pawing the ground with his hulking hands and hooved feet. A single tear escaped its black eyes and trickled down its leathery skin. Anna started as she realised the beast's eyes were narrowed on her. A shiver of revulsion tore through her body.

"We must be on our way," Pabbie said. "I fear this creature will remain as long as we do. The sooner we return to Arendelle the better it will be."

"Agreed," Evangeline said. "Are we all okay?" When the soldiers murmured their agreement, she breathed deeply in relief. "Dismount and walk the horses. They deserve as long a rest as we can give them."

The order obviously didn't extend to Anna, but she still dismounted her mare all the same.

The beast's mournful roars followed them.

Purple light enveloped Anna and brought her forth. The man from her dreams, Owein, looked as emaciated as before, and he struggled to rise from his overstuffed chair. His eyes were clear and alert . . . and angry, Anna noticed as she drew closer.

"The crones," he rasped, spitting on the marble floor. "Only fools seek their guidance."

Anna shifted her feet and scowled at him.

Owein was unperturbed by her glare. "They are ancient magic, and as evil as the blackest, moonless night. How many children have been lost to their foul sorceries? How much blood has been spilled by their wicked nails and forked tongues." His voice became shrill and he shrieked. "All three must be purged from this world and their cursed magic along with them!"

All three? Anna froze. "There were only two in the grove."

Owein breathed heavily, still shaking in his fury. "Only two?"

Where was the third?"

"You must be quick," Owein urged. "Time is short."

You have three days, Anna.

Three days to break the curse.

It seemed like Elsa had walked for an eternity. The stairs spiralled downwards, each step colder and wetter than the last. Elsa supposed they were below the palace's foundations now. The air was thick, smelling so deeply of must and rot it made Elsa want to cover her nose and flee back the way she had come. But she dared not release her grip on the little girl's hand, or remove her other had from the damp stone walls.

The little girl came to a halt, and Elsa had the distinct sensation like she was sniffing the air. The flames that had been captured from the fireplace burst from the girl's fist and formed a floating torch above their heads.

Thankful for the light, Elsa looked around with interest.

They were standing in a wide chamber, dank with moisture and salty drippings from the fjord. Cobwebs consumed every corner and clogged the ancient chandeliers hanging haphazardly from the roof. Dust and destruction from a millennium ago swirled around Elsa's feet wherever she walked. Broken stone tablets and time-rotted furniture were shattered in every direction. Only one remained whole, lying in the centre of the chamber on a platform raised by broken steps a foot off the ground.

WAKE UP, ELSA, Anna's annoying, irritating, twelve-year-old voice cried out.

"Doth thou see?" the little girl asked, in a voice so twisted and ancient it could not have belonged to her.

"I. . ." Elsa hesitated. Her foot kicked something that look alarmingly like a skull. "What is this place? Where are we?" The stonework was much older than even the oldest parts of the palace Elsa knew. What else was down here?

"In the bowels of the castle," the little girl replied. "In a place long forgotten. Your castle wast built on the ruins of this place, which wast torn apart by invaders from the south." The girl leapt in sudden excitement and dragged Elsa towards the raised platform. "HARK," the girl cried out. "HITHER! HITHER!"

The ball of fire moved to the centre of the room, bearing down on a thick, leather-bound tome resting on an alter surrounded by candles and ash-stained skulls. The little girl swept her hand down and the fire broke into dozens of tiny flames, each coming to rest on a dust-slick wax candle that surrounded the alter in a rough circle.

The little girl quivered with glee.

Elsa stood in front of alter before she was even aware of what she was doing. She ran her fingers over the tome, wiping away centuries worth of dust and decay. There were words engraved on the cover, but written in know script Elsa knew.

"Open it!" the little girl cackled, all but dancing around Elsa's legs. "Open it, open it."

She didn't want to.

Her hands shook on the edge of the cover.

Voices inside her head screamed at her.

She would rather have taken a knife and cut off her own hands.

But the compulsion moved her body now. Resisting it now would only see her mind shattered beyond repair.

With her mind shrieking in protest, Elsa opened the book.

She'd barely lifted the cover an inch when an imaginary wind gripped the book and flung it open. The brown pages rippled, moving and flipping on their own. Elsa tried to move away, but she was transfixed. Centuries of knowledge poured into Elsa's skull, along with a hate so malevolent it was beyond comprehension.

"TRAITORS!" the book screamed . . . no . . . Elsa screamed. "THEY DARE COMETH HITHER."

The pages became still. Elsa loomed over the tome, body shaking and throat raw. She began to read. "'...And thither I lay, found blue-skinned, black-haired, red-lipped and shivering naked I wast, at which hour the king did find me. How hapless, how foolish he wast to beest deceived by mortal beauty...'"

The pages flicked and turned.

"I CURSE THEE!" Elsa screamed in a voice that was not her own.

"'Killeth the children, they wilt best be gone. The oldest first, throat slit naked in my bed.'"

"MAY THY FOOD TURN TO ASH. I CURSE THEE!"

"'The youngest hast been spirited away and out of mine reach. Findeth the traitor. His entrails wilt feed the ravens!"

"MAY THY STEEL BEEST SHATTERED. MAY THY FIRES BURN BITTER COLD. MAY THY THIRST NE'ER BEEST QUENCHED. I CURSE THEE!"

"'Still what have I to fear? What is one small boy to me?'"

"I SHALT RISE AGAIN!"

The pages flashed, and fire flashed across Elsa's eyes. Screaming, she tore her eyes away and fell backwards, gasping for breath. Her vision flashed and nausea more intense than any she had ever experienced before rocked her body. She retched, and vomited warm bile onto the cold stone.

When the spasm's finished, Elsa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at the little girl, who was smiling down at her.

"Tis done," the little girl said, with barely contained mirth. "Her soul is free!"

"W-What...?" Elsa stammered. "What are you talking about?"

Why is it so...

"Her soul is free!" the little girl cried out, cackling. "KARK, SISTERS. HER SOUL IS NOW FREE!"

The fog in her mind vanished, but now there was something else in her head – a separate entity wrestling for control. But it felt so hateful, so violent . . .

Another wave of nausea wracked Elsa when she tried to rise to her feet. The fire-lit chamber swam around her, and refused to stay still. "What . . . what did you do to me?" she demanded. When the little girl didn't acknowledge her, Elsa took hold of her shoulder and hauled her around.

Elsa gasped and backed away. The girl's face had become wrinkled and skeletal. Her white hair clumped together and stunk of rot and decay. Pale, bloodless grubworm lips sneered at Elsa.

"HER SOUL IS FREE! HER SOUL IS FREE! HER SOUL IS FREE!" The little girl chanted as she danced around in a circle. Then she froze and stared back at the tome, her joy vanishing in a cloud of confusion. "Huh?" the girl breathed. "What naughty magicks is this?"

The candlelight surrounding the tome gleamed brightly, each individual flame rose from the wick and rotated around the book. In a flash the fire converged, slammed the book closed and illuminated the rune-carved words on the leather cover.

"NAY!" The little girl clawed at her face, nails carving bloody furrows down her cheeks. "HOW?"

Elsa could read the words now – whatever being had invaded her body granted her the knowledge.

May death cometh to thee who opened this book, for the evil thou hast unleashed on this world.

The being inside Elsa howled with fury. And Elsa did too. She was flung back colliding with the ancient stone walls so hard she felt her ribs crack from the impact. Ice flowed through Elsa's body, but she wasn't even sure if she was the one controlling it. Icicles tore from the floor, shattering the stone and broken tables. One even tore the alter in two. The little girl vanished in a puff of mist, fleeing the magical wrath pouring from Elsa's body.

"Help me, please!" Elsa screamed, and to her shock, a voice in her head replied.

Silence, girl, the being spat. Give thyself over, else this curse shalt see us both dead. The being reached out and tried to wrestle control of Elsa's magic away from her. Elsa felt like a child again, desperately trying to keep her feet on the ground while a storm unlike any other tried to whip her away.

Fool! Do ye wish to die here?

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to let go and relinquish control. Elsa had spent her life ever since Anna's accident wishing that she could let go, but things had changed since then, and she realised she would rather die than see her power taken from her now.

The being screeched furiously and redoubled her efforts. Elsa felt herself slipping.

The light of her magic vanished.

What?

NO! the being screamed.

Needles impaled Elsa and made her writhe. The words from the tome were imprinted beneath her eyelids. Elsa knew what was happening and embraced it, even as the being trapped inside her railed and struggled. At least she'd die as her and not taken over by some spirit trapped in a book.

Ye foolish, spiteful thing! The being thundered at her. Ye've killed us!

Darkness shrouded her.

"What on earth. . ." Evangeline whispered as Anna's scarred and wounded party came over the last rise and laid eyes on Arendelle castle in the distance.

Jagged icicles rent through the palace's stonework, stretching towards the sky and in every other direction. Grey clouds swirled around the tallest tower, shrouding the entire structure in darkness. Snow fell thickly too despite the afternoon sunlight still shining in an otherwise cloudless sky.

Anna's heart dropped. "We have to hurry," she urged, and forced her horse into a canter.

Elsa's chest was still. Her lips were tinged with blue and dark purple scars surrounded her eyes.

But there was still breath in her body.

"I should never have left you," Anna whispered to her sister, and took her ice-cold hand in hers. "It was useless. I couldn't find Kristoff. I've lost him, and now I'm going to lose you too."

Come...

Anna shook her head, resisting the summons. No, she thought back, furiously. You leave me alone! I'm done with you and your warnings. Things are worse than last time. At least last time I still had Kristoff!" She rubbed angry tears out of her eyes. My sister is still going to die!

And her mind was silent, and for a moment Anna didn't think the voice was going to answer. There is still time, the voice said to her. You can still save your sister.

HOW? She screamed back.

. . . I don't remember. . . Why can't I remember! Owein's voice shook and Anna felt his consciousness flee from her.

Wracked with sobs and choking gasps, Anna fell forward and buried her head in the blankets over Elsa's stomach.

The bell rang for midnight.

You have two days, Anna.

Two days to break the curse.

Author's Note: It's been so long. I had half of this chapter sitting around for about two years. I remember writing Anna's conversation with Kai back in 2015, and then Elsa's entire scene back in 2016 and along with parts from all the other sections. I edited, rewrote and added new things over the last five or six days.

A huge thank you for everyone who reviewed Chapter 3. Looking back, I think that was one of the best things I've ever written. A special thank you goes to wickedshenanigans whose recent review inspired me to finish this chapter.