Back? # **Chapter Eleven: Not A Creature Was Stirring…** *Mistvale, 9:30 AM* *Music: Faeries - Mannheim Steamroller* After leaving Burgundy to settle down for some much-needed rest, Mirina was a woman on a mission. She was going to find Spencer and get some answers, no matter how harsh the conditions or dangerous the situation. She was going to make this right — she had to. The Peacekeepers had been given a key to Willow’s house for emergencies, so Mirina retrieved it from Cerys’ office. Once settled in her car, she pulled through the Magispace’s main gates and onto the wooded road separating the hidden sanctuary from the rest of the city. The weather at the Magispace had mellowed out, so Mirina had assumed — or rather, hoped — that the storm was beginning to subside. But without magic to maintain the climate, Eira’s blizzard continued to tear through with a vengeance, gaining strength with every passing moment. Mirina wasn’t going to let a spot of bad weather stop her. Humming along to the cheerful radio music, she inched along the icy asphalt. The whiteout conditions turned a five-minute walk down the road into a slippery, fifteen-minute exercise in patience, but she eventually made it to the Dentons’ driveway. The twins’ cars were coated in a thick, fluffy layer of snow, so Mirina guessed that Spencer was still inside. Perfect. As she shut off the engine and retrieved her wand from the glovebox, another vehicle pulled across the driveway like a barricade. Its bulky frame, tinted windows, and glossy black paint job identified its passengers even before the doors opened — it was an RCA vehicle. A lean figure clad in a crisp black-and-white suit emerged from the driver’s seat. A pair of thick black sunglasses obscured her eyes, and wisps of shaggy wine-red hair hung around her neck. Mirina waved. “Oh, hello, Agent Foster! You’re here for the same reason I am, I assume.” Agent Foster nodded. “Indeed I am. I’ll be your backup, but since my sources indicate this is a powerful magical anomaly, I’m unsure how much help I’ll be. You, on the other hand, are perfectly equipped to handle it, especially with my aid. Lead the way, Your Highness.” Mirina grinned. “Much appreciated. I didn’t realize until I was here that I probably should have taken someone else with me…” “That would have been prudent, yes.” Agent Foster responded curtly but not cruelly. She wasn’t trying to be dismissive of Mirina, but she also didn’t have time to waste on idle chitchat. That was perfectly fine with Mirina: she also had a job to do. She needed to find Spencer. And fast. Mirina fished the key out of her jacket pocket and unlocked the door. Then, she ensured she had a good grip on her wand before pushing it open and creeping inside. The Dentons’ house was caught up in the storm-induced blackouts, but the glowing turquoise crystal at the tip of Mirina’s wand provided more than enough light. “Merde,” Agent Foster exhaled once she got a good look at her surroundings. The walls were coated in a thick, jagged layer of ice, and the temperature inside was well below zero. The cold pierced Mirina’s thick, puffy coat, and she could feel her fingers growing stiff and sore. With a shivering hand, she searched her pockets, eventually locating one of Jinx’s warming drops. She popped it in her mouth, and the sweet cinnamon coated her tongue as heat coursed through her body. She would have also offered a drop to Agent Foster, but it wouldn’t have affected her. The RCA’s field agents were magicless humans; this helped protect them from curses or hexes against them, but it came with the drawback that benevolent magic didn’t have much effect either. Besides, Agent Foster didn’t look bothered by the cold. She was only wearing her standard-issue suit, but she didn’t tremble or chatter. Her short puffs of breath were visible, but beyond that, she was unaffected by her sub-zero surroundings. Mirina couldn’t help but feel a pinch of jealousy. Agent Foster laid a hand on her hip, ready to grab her gun from its holster in the blink of an eye. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like she’d need it. Everything was eerily quiet, and every door was open — including the ones leading to Spencer’s (empty) bedroom and the basement. The house was abandoned. Mirina paused. The basement. That’s where Willow’s spellcasting altar was. Where Spencer would go if he sensed something was wrong. Mirina started down the creaking wooden stairs, her steps careful and deliberate in case something awaited at the bottom. Agent Foster remained on the main floor, listening intently for the first sign of danger, ready to act. Once Mirina reached the bottom of the stairs, she had to stifle a scream. Spencer was there, facing the altar, but… He had been turned to solid ice, just like Fileran. “Spencer!” Mirina squeaked. “Oh no, oh no, no, no…” Rushing over to him, Mirina’s eyes scanned the room to see if she could piece together what had happened. Spencer’s thin arms were crossed in front of his face, shielding him from what he knew was coming. He was dressed in flannel pyjamas but had thrown his magic-repellant mage’s jacket on for protection. His wood-and-crystal wand was at his feet — beneath the splayed fingers of his left hand — leaving him open to attack. He had put up a fight, but against his demon-possessed sister, it was no use. In front of Spencer, drawn on the floor at the foot of the altar, was an intricate circle with criss-crossed lines resembling a snowflake's branches. A summoning circle, very similar to the one Pyx used to speak to her patron, Lucien. It made sense that Eira, one of Lucien’s peers, could be similarly summoned. The altar’s grand cauldron was filled with a thick white liquid, shimmering faintly like sunshine on freshly fallen snow. Turning her head, Mirina realized that the circular pattern on the floor shimmered in the same way. Magical ink. Taking a closer look, she noticed that the circle’s edge was losing its glow, like a moon beginning to wane. The tables next to the altar were covered in herbs, crystals, and other tools, strewn haphazardly across the surface. One of the tables was crooked, and its contents had spilled onto the floor, a mosaic of broken glass and earthy powders. Something had jostled the table, but Spencer wasn’t close enough to have made contact with it. Above the hearth was an ancient book bound in navy blue leather. Its parchment pages were yellowed with age and covered with runes in looping blue script. Mirina recognized the runes as Ruinic — the language of gods and demons, legible only to their chosen mortals. Mirina was not one of those chosen mortals…but Pyx was. Mirina whipped her phone out of her pocket and started a video call with her cousin. “Pyx, I NEED you to tell me if one of these spells can unfreeze someone. The demon got Spencer, too.” Taking a look at the page, Pyx grimaced. “Yikes, this is hard to read. Whoever wrote it spent too much effort making it look fancy without bothering to check if you could read it.” “Just try your best. Is it this one?” “Nope, this looks like the summoning spell Willow would have used. The description talks about making a snowstorm, but the picture’s wrong on that piece of paper clipped to the top — it’s definitely not a snowstorm spell. Too intricate.” “You’d think Willow would have noticed that…” “It was the night after Tibbs’ Eve, Miri. I don’t think Will cared about anything besides getting the spell done and getting her ass back to bed before her head split itself open.” “...Fair point.” Mirina continued to flip through the pages as Pyx confirmed that their contents weren’t what she was searching for. “Nope…Nuh-uh…wait, YES! That’s it! That’s the one!” Pyx exclaimed, excited. “I was almost starting to think the Demon Lords were stupid enough not to put a failsafe in here.” “Don’t let…you know who…hear you say that,” Mirina cautioned. “I’d say that to his face,” Pyx countered. “I have no doubt you would. Anyway, can you translate the instructions for me?” “I sure can. Just…give me a few minutes. Delareine’s been hissing at me to shut off the video chat before I use up our call time.” Mirina winced. “Oops, you’re right. Sorry, Mercury!” “It’s alright,” Mercury’s muffled voice answered in the background before Pyx unceremoniously hung up. Mirina took a photo of the pages, and a few minutes later, Pyx replied with a translation detailing precisely what needed to be done to free someone from Eira’s icy transformation. It seemed easy enough at first. A few runes had to be drawn on the victim’s body, directing the magic where it needed to go. Using some of the leftover ink in Willow’s cauldron and the tip of her wand, it wasn’t long before Spencer’s frozen form had some brand-new tattoos. Unfortunately, the second half of the spell was far from as straightforward. It called for the caster to channel ‘the opposite of the frigid Lord’s power.’ Whatever that was. Pyx had left a note underneath this part of her translation: “Yeah, I’ve got nothing. Sorry.” Mirina let out an exasperated groan. Why did old, powerful spells have to be so cryptic and confusing?! With a sigh of dismay, she sank to the floor. This was hopeless. She’d never be able to free Spencer or Fileran. She’d never stop the storm. The rest of her family would never get home. The Festival was ruined. Eira had already won. “Gods, Spencer,” she said out loud, although she knew he couldn’t hear her. “What do I do?” She slowly got to her feet, brushing her fingers against the smooth, clear ice. “I don’t want to just leave you here, but I can’t sit around and wait until I figure something out — there’s way too much to do at the Magispace.” Tears welled in her eyes as she took one last long, wistful look at him before returning home and admitting defeat. “Spencer, please. We need you. I need you. This can’t be it — I can’t give up…” She paced over to the nearby couch, grabbing a fluffy fleece blanket. Draping it over Spencer’s shoulders, she also took one of her warming drops and balanced it between Spencer’s stiff fingers, securing it with some tape she found on the altar table. A single tear dripped from her cheek as she entwined him in a gentle hug, silently praying for him to move, breathe, do something… Mirina couldn’t see it, but as the tear collided with Spencer’s icy skin, a flash of blue light sparked between them—and was quickly caught by the runes painted across his body. The magical ink vanished, and a swirl of snowflakes returned him to flesh and bone, lifting the curse. Mirina jumped, before hugging tighter as her friend’s body softened inside her grasp. “SPENCER!” “O-oh! H-hi, M-mirina! …What’s g-going on?” Spencer mumbled, teeth chattering. “W-why am I s-so c-c-cold?” He looked down at the warming drop taped to his fingers as he quirked an eyebrow in confusion. Mirina motioned for him to eat it, so he unpeeled the tape, removed the cellophane, and popped it into his mouth. Instantly, the frostbitten blue tint faded from his skin, replaced by a healthier pink. “Ooh, that’s good. Jinx knows his stuff.” Spencer grinned, licking his lips to clear the last drops of sticky cinnamon candy. Then, he glanced down at Mirina. “...You okay? You look worried. Did something happen?” Mirina opened her mouth to answer before dissolving into a fit of laughter and relieved sobs. Spencer helped her onto the couch, sat beside her, and embraced her again until she calmed down. Once she could speak again, she recounted the morning’s events to an increasingly horrified Spencer. “He did all that since this morning?! I knew he was powerful, but jeez!” He exclaimed, shaking his head. “And the fact that he got Fileran too, Fileran of all people…” “He did all that, and he’s going to do even more if we don’t stop him. I came here to find you — I was hoping you’d know how this happened in the first place.” Spencer sucked in a breath. “Unfortunately, no. Willow didn’t tell me she was doing any of this. If I’d known, I could have stopped her.” He frowned, more out of fear than anger. “I wish she had told me…” “Well, do you at least remember how you got frozen like that? It happened after the possession, but it still might be helpful.” “Oh, that I do know. I woke up in the middle of the night to get a snack, and the house was freezing. It was like someone had left all the windows open, but when I checked, they were all shut like they should be. That was weird, so I had a look around. That’s when I noticed the basement door was unlocked, and there was a weird blue light down there. So, naturally, I go to investigate and get there just in time to see Willow…” He paused, shuddering. “To see Willow…transforming. Her skin was stretching, her limbs were twisting…it looked rough. The demon stood over her the whole time, grinning like a maniac. I guess he was changing her to look more like him since he was possessing her? Anyway, he entered her body, did a couple of little motions to check it out and kinda…twitched a bit. Like he was a puppet, and someone yanked his strings. He bumped into the table and fell over, so I tried to fight him while he was distracted. You…can probably guess how that went.” Mirina squeezed his hand. “Yeah. But we’re going to fix this. I have you now, and I can probably free Fileran. Burgundy should be waking up from her nap soon, and the Peacekeepers are working on fixing things at the ‘Space.” Her grin quickly faded. “But…I don’t know exactly how I freed you — it just happened. And even if we fix things, there’s no saying he won’t just destroy everything again. He’s still on the loose, and I’m no closer to figuring out how to defeat him…” She doubled over, putting her head in her hands. Spencer patted her back. “Yeah, that’s…not great. And like I said, I didn’t even know Mom was getting Willow to do this, so I don’t know any more than you do, sorry. I know you were probably hoping I’d be more help, but--” Mirina’s head shot up. “Wait. Say that again. The last part.” “You…were hoping I could help?” She grinned. “Yes! Oh my gods, it’s so obvious!” She grabbed her phone off the coffee table, tapping frantically at the screen before thrusting it into Spencer’s hands. “Read this! I’m not crazy, right?” The screen displayed an article describing some folklore behind the Feast of Hope. Mirina had highlighted a particular passage, a poem about a wild snowstorm from a past Feast, given the title of ‘The Great Blizzard of Justaea.’ *Music: The Blizzard - Auni* *“T'was the eve of the Feast, and a blizzard did loom* *A storm that would no doubt spell Justaea's doom.* *Harsh weather and foul winds quickly drew near,* *And the folk of the kingdom were quaking with fear.* *The tyrant and his circle were snug in their castle,* *And would never aid the ‘peasants’ in their hassle.* *No one had enough to make it through,* *And not one soul knew quite what they could do.* *The generous opened their hearts and their homes,* *Ensuring no one would be left all alone.* *All food and clothing was gathered to share,* *So each and every person in the realm could prepare.* *Despite their best efforts, it still was not enough,* *Surviving the weather would prove to be rough.* *Allies collected donations and prayers,* *But the question remained: how would help arrive there?* *As if by magic, a savior did arrive,* *To deliver the gifts and help Justaea thrive* *His name it was Nikolas, and before day met night,* *He would visit each kingdom through power of flight.* *“On, Frostbite! On, Snowflake! On, Hailstorm and Glacier!* *On, Bluster! On, Arctic! On, Iceberg and Powder!* *To save the day, swiftly you must fly!* *We’ve no time to waste, so take to the sky!”* *On a sleigh carried forth by eight glacial horses,* *Nikolas would defy nature’s powerful forces.* *Every kingdom’s donations dutifully collected,* *In the hopes that they’d help the poor souls affected.* *As Nikolas prepared to make his descent,* *Someone sought his miraculous plan to prevent.* *A general serving the tyrant’s regime,* *Was assigned to thwart the harebrained scheme.* *Though the general was determined, Nikolas worked faster,* *Of swiftness and power, he was a master.* *He was faster than light, though his journey was fraught,* *And he vanished into the night before he was caught.* *But before the realm’s savior disappeared from view,* *All through the air, a greeting rang through.* *“Good night and good luck, fair souls in the storm!* *Though the night is cold, may your hearts be warm!”* Once Spencer had finished reading, he broke out into a grin of his own. “Wait, are you saying…?” Mirina nodded. “I get it now! Eira only has power over us if we let ourselves give into despair! Destroying the grounds, taking out the power, stranding the others…it was all done to crush us, to make us think fighting back was useless. It’s the same thing that happened to Justaea!” “I see what you mean,” Spencer agreed. “I mean, a freak blizzard and a famine, all while the kingdom’s under the control of a dictator? Pretty hopeless if you ask me. And, if the old legends are true, he tried to do the same thing to the gods, right?” “Exactly! But in both cases, his plans fell apart once everyone worked together to keep up hope! And just then, using my last bit of hope, I gave you the blanket, candy, and hug…and you defrosted! I thought the items might have been part of the answer, but they weren’t! The key is in the holiday's name, for gods’ sakes! The way to defeat Eira, the opposite of his power…” The pair held hands, finishing the sentence in unison. “It’s hope!”