The Snow Queen

Escape!

Jack knew he had to take care when he snuck out the house that night—not until everyone was asleep did he slip his boots back on and throw on his shawl to make the journey to town hall. The knife was still tucked away in his belt like a sword in a knight's sheath. He tried not to think about how much time he might have left before the mayor or anyone returned to town hall. He just had to figure out a way to get past whoever was watching her. Even if he had to go down fighting, she would be freed.

It was frigid outside; Jack's own breath clouded his vision the moment he stepped out the door. He paced through the snow towards town hall, looking around to make sure he wasn't being watched or followed. I'm coming. Don't be afraid. I'm going to save you. He recalled her screams from the burning iron against her chest and he started to walk faster, nearly sprinting, but he didn't want to risk attracting attention or falling on the slippery ground below.

As he passed Ansgar's house, he couldn't help but look. How did he feel so betrayed by someone that wasn't even his friend? No, ignore him. She was all that mattered.

...

Ansgar had only gone back to the living room to put out the fire he'd had lit for so long, only to hear the shuffling of shin-high boots outside and he couldn't help but take a peek. He knew who it was without even getting a good look.

He felt a tug in his chest as he thought of what could happen if Jack messed up.

...

Town hall was right there, and there were no lights to be seen inside. Maybe this meant the mayor hadn't made a decision on what to do with her yet, or they were just that adamant about secrecy. Jack carefully tried the door, but it was locked. He'd thought about this, so he went around to the back of the building. The dungeon had a single, ground-level window that was covered by snow. Jack knelt down and dug like a burrowing animal until he could see the frosted glass. Not a single light inside... did that mean it was empty or was it because he just couldn't see?

No, whatever the mayor said had to be abided by. Surely there was someone down there keeping the torch lit, keeping her weak and docile. If they'd done the deed by now, Elrond would've made a great show of it. Jack stood up and pressed his back to the wall and, with a deep breath to muster the nerve, kicked his foot back into the glass until it shattered down on the floor inside.

He heard it, the jolt of surprise by someone inside, the sound of a chair being pushed back and footsteps coming closer to look. Trying to catch his breath, Jack made a bolt for the other side of the structure and waited. No one would leave it uninvestigated, especially with the type of prisoner they had. He watched with unblinking eyes until—

"Son of a bitch. This fuckin' weather." The door to town hall swung open and a man, carrying only a pistol and a lantern, came stumbling out. He'd been deprived of sleep and was grateful just to get to stretch his legs. Jack prayed he didn't turn and see him and that he took the other way to observe the back of the building. He did. Jack waited until he was around the corner and he hurried inside. If only he had a key, then he could lock the door behind him. Jack was panting when he shut the door behind him and looked around for something to push in the way. It had to be heavy enough to slow down a man who had participated in hauling back a three-hundred-pound bear.

He wasted no time and pushed the first thing he saw, teeth bared and muscles tight, in front of the door. Was it a chest? A table? It was too dark to tell but it was a bitch to get to move, so it worked!

She was so close now. Jack felt like he was flying when he ran down the stairs to the dungeon and busted the door open. He saw her; she was no longer glowing but a dull, dim gray. He ran to her and blew out the lit torch, which was what finally caught her attention. He knew that she knew his name, but did she know his voice? "Jack." He gasped, patting his chest. "Jack!" Cold lapped against him as she came closer to wakefulness, eyes focusing on what she was looking at. "It's me. I'm here." His fingers found the knife. Would it be sharp enough? Sharp enough to cut rope instead of carrots and potatoes? Jack kept an ear out as he worked the blade through the fibers of her bindings.