Frozen | Huke Stemmings

-9-

The wind howled and the snow blew into Harry's face. He struggled to guide his horse up the frozen mountain path. He was determined to find Ashton. Harry was sure his brother would thaw the fjord and bring back summer. The whole kingdom would celebrate, and the two brothers would live happily ever after. The thought encouraged Harry as he rode through the snowfalls.

"Ashton!" Harry called into the blizzard. "It's me, Harry. Your brother who didn't mean to make you freeze the summer!" He paused, shivering in the cold. "Wow, that's a sentence I never thought I'd say. Anyway, I'm sorry! This is all my f-f-f-fault."

A wolf's howl interrupted Harry's cries.

His horse stopped and looked around nervously. Harry tried to convince himself that the sounds were just puppies playing.

"Of course none of this would have happened if he'd just told me his secret," Harry said with a sigh.

A tree branch snapped, and the horse panicked. It whinnied and kicked up its front legs.

"Whoa, whoa!" Hart commanded, pulling back on the reins. He flew off the horse into a snowdrift!

He sat up, spit snow out of his mouth, and looked around in time to see his horse running away.

"No, no, no! Come back!" Harry called, but the horse was long gone. "Okay," he said to himself. He had to keep focused. He struggled to stand up and dusted the snow off his suit.

"Snow, it had to be snow," he grumbled. "He couldn't have had a tropical magic that covered the fjords in white sand and warm . . ." A welcome sight interrupted Harry's rant. He saw smoke rising in the distance. "Fire!"

Harry took one more step and stumbled down a steep hill. He began to roll like a snowball, layering on more and more snow as he went.

Harry landed with a splash in an icy stream and the snowball broke apart. He got to his feet, shivering. "Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold . . ." he muttered. He was standing next to a small building. A wooden sign hung in front of him: Wandering Zayn's Trading Post. A lump of snow fell off the sign. "And sauna!" he said, reading the end of the sign.

Harry hurried inside. The little shop was stocked with summer supplies—after all, it was technically still summertime. He gazed at the goods, looking for warm clothes.

"Hoo, hoo!" called a blond man behind the counter wearing a bright sweater. His name was Zayn, and he was the owner. "Big summer blowout," he said hopefully. "Half off on our swimming suits, clogs, and a sun balm of my own invention, ja?"

"Oh, great," Harry said, looking around the store. "For now, how about boots? Winter boots, shirts and pants?"

"Well, that would be in our winter department," the man said in a thick accent.

Harry darted toward the single rack of warm clothing. "Oh, um, I was wondering," he said, trying to sound casual. "has another young man, the king, perhaps, I don't know, passed through here?" He brought a pair of boots and some clothes to the counter and set them in front of Zayn.

"Only one crazy enough to be out in the storm is you, dear," Zayn said in a pleasant voice.

At that moment, the front door opened and a gust of frigid air blew in. A large, broad man entered. He was dressed for the arctic cold and completely covered in snow, with only his blue eyes showing. It was Luke, and he was looking for supplies, too.

"You and this fellow. Hoo, hoo," Zayn sang out. "Big summer blow out."

Luke pushed past Zayn and went straight to Harry. "Carrots," he demanded.

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Behind you," Luke said crossly, pointing.

"Oh, right," Harry said, "Excuse me." He moved out of the way, and Luke grabbed a bag of carrots from a shelf behind him. He gathered a few other supplies as he moved briskly around the shop.

"A real howler in July, ja?" Zayn said, trying to make conversation with the stranger. "Whenever could it be coming from?"

"The North Mountain," Luke replied.

"The North Mountain," Harry repeated to himself. Was that where Ashton had gone?