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“Where’s my princess?”
The crown gleamed, gold and rubies perched atop the pure white h air on Simon’s head. He raised his arms, blue magic sparking to life in his palms, the crown chanting the secrets of ice and snow. Cold wind swirled around him, flurries and flakes drifting up to the sky.
“WHERE’S MY PRINCESS?”
Betty sank to the floor a block away, leaning heavily against a nearby wall. Five minutes ago, the street was gleaming with sunlight and people, the perfect place for a mid-afternoon walk. Though artificial clouds had descended on the world, the red brick wall still held a bit of the sun’s lingering heat. It was nice, a tiny bit of warmth on Betty’s back, but not enough. She shivered, pulling her legs to her chest as a tear slipped down her face.
It had all started about two weeks ago, when Simon put the thing on as a joke. His smile turned to a scream as he clutched his face, the crown gleaming on his head. He slapped it off, but the damage was done. Simon said he was fine, but since then, he had been jumpier, more distracted. He spent more and more time in the library, coming home late at night and avoiding all attempts at conversation.
Last night, she had woken to him muttering about a crown and the secrets of ice and snow. When she asked him about it over breakfast, Simon had stammered a weak excuse and run out of the house, leaving his plate of pancakes half-finished.
An hour of desperate searching later, Betty received a text from him. It told her to come here, promising to explain everything that had been going on. She came to find him wearing the damned crown, transformed into whatever that thing that was wreaking havoc in the street beside her was. Betty barely made it away, ducking behind a corner before he could freeze her, too.
That was where she sat, hugging herself, rocking back and forth to the crashing beat of Simon’s destruction. The entire thing had a surreal air, as if this were a dream, as fleeting and fantastical as a delicate, melting snowflake. Betty knew magic existed, but it was in the same way the Hanging Gardens of Babylon existed. An elusive artifact, a leftover from a distant time. Something to be studied, searched for, but never found. Not something to be thrust in her face like this.
A wave of warmth washed over her, thawing her muscles to make it feel that everything would someday be okay. An orange spark shone in the air, reflected in her tear-filled eyes. The spark seemed friendly enough, a bit of flame in this frozen world. The fire grew, writhing and shifting to form the shape of a teddy bear. Fluffy ears and floppy arms materialized in midair. The inside of the teddy bear turned hollow, the edges glowing white like a doorway to another realm.
Simon’s face flickered into view. His tanned skin was a bit more wrinkled, the brown eyes a bit more tired, but it was still Simon, safe and unharmed.
“Betty.” Simon’s voice echoed through her mind.
“Simon?” Betty leapt to her feet, a hand outstretched to touch the flame. Her fingertips passed straight through, the heat comfortably warm. “What’s going on?”
“I’m a thousand ye–”
The flames sputtered, as if someone had doused them with a bucketful of snow. The gateway shrank, cutting off Simon’s eyes like a badly cropped picture.
When Simon returned, his eyes were softer, sadder, as the portal began to close. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And see your face ag—”
The burst of flame vanished with a hiss, leaving a few flakes of ash to fall to the ground like snow. Betty snatched one from the air. It sat on her hand for half an instant, decomposing even further into fine dust. She sat in shock for a few moments.
Simon was gone. No. Not gone. He was still here, right in front of her. Grabbing an empty coca-cola can, she ran into the street, waving her arms at the white-haired monster floating in the air. “It’s me! Your princess! Yooo-hoo!”
Simon paused, the beams of blue light stuttering for half a second.
“Take this!” Betty threw the can of soda, the red label gleaming like an ember in the still-falling snow. It tumbled head over heels, soaring through the air until it smacked into Simon’s crown.
A dull clang rang through the deserted streets. The crown tipped, falling off his head to land with the tallest point embedded in the dirt of a nearby planter box.
“Yes!” Betty punched the air.
Simon’s long, white hair receded back into his skull, his skin returning to its normal vibrance. The clouds parted, and a golden ray of sunshine slipped through. The ice began to melt, soft drips of water plinking from icicles into puddles below.
Simon drifted towards the ground, his polished shoes touched the slick floor. The next thing he knew, Betty’s arms were around him, warm and safe and smelling faintly of fire and ash.
“What did I do?” Simon croaked, burying his face into Betty’s wool sweater. “The crown told me to put it on, and—-”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” Betty held him tighter, pressing his head down so he wouldn’t have to look at the broken windows, cracked concrete, and ice-crusted walls that littered the street.
“We’ll find a way. Somehow, we’ll find a way.”
They embraced until sirens echoed in the distance, ghostly and forlorn. Blue and red lights flashed against white ice, the squeal of tires just a few blocks away. Simon slipped out of Betty’s arms. Kneeling by the planter, he picked up the crown, the sharp edges gleaming golden in the sunlight.
“The police are here. I should let them arrest me.” He sighed, tucking the crown under his arm. “Maybe they will know what to do with this.”
“Nope!” Betty snatched the crown from Simon.
“Don’t touch that.” Simon made a grab for the crown that Betty easily sidestepped. “That should not be touched by anyone other than me!”
“Nuh-uh. You’ve lost your creepy crown privileges.” Betty stuffed it into the pocket of her sweater. It formed an odd, spiky bulge, at least it would be out of Simon’s sight.
“It’s dangerous, Betty.” Simon rubbed his eyes. His arms fell slack, his jaw open as he stared in shock at the completely wrecked city block. Ice coated everything in a twenty-foot radius, the transparent crystals shining in the sun. All the windows of the nearby buildings had been shattered, pieces of broken glass sticking straight up like shards of ice. An icicle dropped from the base of a fire escape onto the car, so thick and heavy that it dented the metal.
The alarm went off, a shrill wail whooping through the neighborhood.
“Whoa. I did all that?” Simon stared at his hands, hard and calloused from years of expeditions. “That’s…. impressive.”
“Yes, you did, you dum-dum.” The nose of a police car peeked out from behind the same corner Betty had been sheltering before. “Now come on!”
She grabbed Simon’s wrist. Their shoes slipped on the ice as they ran, ducking into the nearest alleyway just before the officer stepped out of his car.
“Freeze!” The officer called to the frozen wasteland.
—
They came to a stop in the nearby park, next to a bench on a hill beneath a massive oak tree. Its budding leaves, which were the bright green of spring, swayed in the mild breeze. The scene would have been entirely peaceful, if not for the distant sirens.
“I think we’re safe.” Betty collapsed onto the bench, her breaths coming in short gasps. “What just happened back there? You said you were fine. This—-” She tapped the crown through her sweater “Is the opposite of fine!”
“You’ve been acting weird all week! Avoiding me, and running out of the apartment like that—- I was worried sick! What’s going on? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”
Neon purple flickered at the edge of Simon’s vision. It was a worm of some sort, its cartoonish, smiling head poking up from the ground to wiggle at him. Simon shook his head, and the worm was gone, the only thing there a baseball field filled with laughing, cheering children.
Should he even be here, around people, when the crown could cause him to snap at any moment? Should he even be near Betty, after what he had just done? Should he—
“Oi, I’m asking you a question!” Betty rapped her knuckles against the wooden seat next to her. “Have a seat and answer.”
Simon took a seat, his muscles stiff, as if he had been sitting in the cold for too long. His hand found Betty’s, her fingers delightfully warm. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I truly meant to explain, tell you what was going on with me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the crown. There was this thing”
Simon smacked the side of his head with the flat of his palm. “Inside me that made me feel like if I put the crown on, good things will happen that I need the crown to be complete and—”
He broke, silenced by Betty’s expression. Her eyes were wide, her mouth set in a tight smile. She was trying to be strong for his sake, but she was scared, she must have been scared, absolutely terrified as she watched her fiance lose his mind.
“This is a dream.” She chuckled, breathless and slightly hysteric. “The thing with the flaming teddy bear. All this ice. That weird crown. This is definitely a dream.”
“If only it was.” Simon held up a hand, examining the tanned skin. It looked normal, the same as it was just a week ago. Yet everything had changed, and this hand now had the power to destroy the world. “What do you mean by flaming teddy bear?”
“You were the flaming teddy bear.”
“Pardon?”
Betty laughed at Simon’s comically confused expression. “This weird fire appeared in front of me, took the shape of a teddy bear, and showed me you. Like a teddy bear-shaped picture frame. You started to say something, but the fire cut you off, so you yelled for someone to pedal harder. Then you cut off entirely.”
Simon sat in silence for a moment, chewing on his lip as he thought. “Did you at least get a chance to ask him how to break space-time with a teddy bear?”
“So that wasn’t you?” Betty asked.
“Of course not! I was too busy being Jack Frost, but a bit older and less buff.”
Betty smiled, but it was a weak one that didn’t quite meet her eyes. Simon’s gaze drifted to the pointed bulge in Betty’s sweater. Upon realizing what he was staring at, Betty shifted the crown so that it was fully out of sight. “Listen, Simon. Do you think you should see someone? Like a psychiatrist? Or someone who specializes in cursed objects?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s anything they can do.” Simon buried his head in his hands with a soft groan. “I don’t even know if there’s anything I want them to do. I think we should just go home. We can forget about today. It won’t happen again. I hope.”
“Okay. That’s what we’ll do. Just tell me everything from now on, all right?” Betty scooted closer, throwing her arm around Simon’s shoulders.
“Okay.” Came his soft reply.