The Mystery of the Frozen Heart

Chapter Three: The Thin Red Line

1925

1 Smoke in the air. Lights flickering. Someone coughed – Celestia herself. What was happening? Arm side head hip in agony. Couldn't move. Why couldn't she-

Black-out.

Someone calling her name – again, again, louder. No. Too much pain. Too much. No.

"Tia? Tia! Open your damn eyes! We need to go!"

Eyelids so heavy. Like trying to move through syrup. She blinked. Everything was blurred. A haggard, freckled face framed by short, carroty hair stared down at her. "Nana? What-"

Black-out.

Blinding, searing torture coursed through Celestia's body. Cracking sounds. Her broken bones mended themselves. She uttered a blood-curdling cry, thrashed-

Black-out.

She came to half walking, half being dragged, her older sister Nocturna supporting her with relative ease. "Nana? What is...where..."

"Sh. It's all right. We'll be able to apparate outside," Nocturna said right into Celestia's ear. "Come on, now. I need you to help me-"

Black-out.

Stairs. She was tripping, dragging her feet. Her whole body was hurting, shaking, bogged down heavy unwieldy where was all the smoke coming from screams stench of blood oh God she gagged-

Black-out.

Fresh air. Cold. Sunshine. Felt like heaven.

"Hold on, love," Nocturna said, and hugged Celestia around the waist. "This'll be unpleasant in your condition."

The world distorted and fell away as they apparated to safety.

2 She came to gradually, unwillingly, preferring to stay in the lovely blackness of being knocked out. Sadly, though, her consciousness was dragged to the surface, and she found herself in her sore and aching body, lying on a bed in a dimly lit room. It smelled of wood and varnish. She could hear heavy rain pattering against the shuttered window. Wow, did the weather always change this quickly in New York?

Then again, maybe she'd been unconscious for several hours. There was only one way to tell.

Slowly and carefully, she pushed herself into a sitting position, gnashing her teeth and seeing stars and shaking badly. Her head was pounding, her stomach lurching. Well, she had taken quite a beating at the MACUSA building.

The memory sent an icy jolt of adrenaline through her veins. Nocturna! She'd attacked the MACUSA headquarters with what had to be either a very potent element of surprise or a small army to bust her out. How had she known that Celestia would be there? Had she even known? How had she even got to America? What the hell was going on?

After three unsuccessful tries that nearly got her falling face-first on the wooden floor, Celestia managed to get to her rubbery legs. The stars and black spots in front of her eyes made her almost blind for a few seconds, but then faded, as did most of the nausea. Feeling like an ancient crone trapped in a crumbling fortress, she lurched to the door, then onto a nearly dark corridor, toward the only room were a considerable amount of light was coming from. It was a living room of sorts, small and cramped with ratty furniture (incidentally, it was dark outside, so she really had been out for most of the day), on which sat five people: Nocturna, one person she didn't know, Leta Lestrange, and...