The castle with red light in its windows was approaching.
In the forest, among the churned-up snow, they found numerous corpses of large monsters.
"These are the Snow Monsters of the Prince of Cold," said the Ice Queen. "They were here recently."
The Cursed crouched down before one massive corpse.
"They were killed by a sword," he said. "Professional work."
"Incredible. Someone else has come here besides us," the Ice Queen said.
"Does that not happen?"
"Very rarely. Only supernatural warriors can enter the domain of the Fourth Prince of Cold to challenge him. And only a few of them are capable of remaining alive for several hours. But the end was always the same for all of them." The Ice Queen smiled coldly. "They all die."
"This is what may await us," said the Light-Haired.
"You have nothing to fear. While I am accompanying you." She clicked her tongue with a smirk. "But even so, as I already said earlier, not everyone is destined to make it to the end."
"The tracks lead there. This warrior went there," said the Cursed.
The stretch of forest ended. Beyond it lay a wasteland covered with snow, and beyond that, another stretch of forest. The tracks, already half-covered with snow, led away into it.
There, in the depths, stolen by mystical shadows, a tall, light-haired girl stood with her back against a tree. Wrapped in a fur coat, beneath which she wore chainmail. Long, light, slightly damp hair. Her piercing blue eyes shifted toward them as they approached. Her left hand rested on the hilt of a battle sword hanging in a sheath from her belt. A strange guest who had disturbed the enchanted sleep of the gloomy, nightmarish place.
The Cursed saw her fearless gaze stop on him, then slide farther, and saw her eyes widen at the terrible discovery. He realized that she had spotted the Ice Queen. The girl stepped away from the tree and blocked their path. Her hand drew the sword from its sheath. Ancient blue runes flashed on its blade. Her gaze filled with iron determination and hatred for those who were approaching.
A medallion on a chain stirred on her chest. Almost the same as the one worn by the Cursed. Suddenly, it flashed with a bright light, and the medallion on the Cursed's chest flashed with light in response. The girl stepped back, stunned.
"Who are you, wearing an ancient medallion of power while traveling with the Ice Queen? Are you her prisoner?"
"No. She is a prisoner of my Curse and helps me to free herself from it."
"And not only a prisoner of your Curse," the Ice Queen said, looking at him with an ambiguous smile.
The Cursed raised an eyebrow, ready for anything.
"Does she know you?"
"Yes. And I know her too," said the Ice Queen, slightly frowning. "She is the Lady of the Northern Frontier, a chain of cities on the Ice Continent. Why have you come, dear?"
"Snow Mirage and his armies are terrorizing my cities. The White Prince of Cold gives him power. That is why I came to destroy him. To solve the problem at its root."
"That is wonderful."
The Ice Queen smiled. The girl stared at her in shock. It seemed that the behavior of the Ice Queen was completely ambiguous to her.
A snowstorm was rising around them.
"We cannot stay here for long," she said. "We need to hurry to the Ice Abode to take shelter from the White Prince and his horrors, which will come here when the snowstorm begins."
She took out several small stones with runes carved on them and threw them onto the ground. A chain of tracks appeared in the snow, leading forward into the unknown. The tracks were narrow, eerie, inhuman. The swirling snow was quickly covering them.
"Spirit guides show the way to the Ice Abode. But I stayed in conversation with you for an unforgivably long time, and now the Enchanted Blizzard is closing the road. Now there is no way to reach the Ice Abode. And we will all die here in the clutches of the Prince of Cold and his terrible monsters."
"Calm down, girl," said the Ice Queen. "You forget who is standing beside you. I know the way to the Ice Abode. I will take you there."
The Ice Queen walked forward.
"You cannot go into the Enchanted Blizzard," the girl's words caught up with her. "I always waited it out in the roots of the trees. Otherwise, it will lift you up and hurl you onto the treetops with terrible force, piercing your bodies and breaking your bones. I saw many from my squad die. It is certain death."
The Ice Queen did not stop.
"I know how to pass through my brother's Enchanted Blizzard and stay alive."
The road was periodically blocked by streams of snow driven by strong gusts of cold wind. Once, the wind began to intensify without limit, and then the Ice Queen waved her hand while walking, and everything on the road fell silent. Only streams of impenetrable snowstorm rose on both sides. The Lady noticed that after the Ice Queen moved her hand, small crystals from an unknown source scattered in one place at the edge of the road. And among the branches, several yellow eyes flashed and immediately went dark.
Like gloomy ghosts, they were walking through the tunnel with invisible walls, straight into the heart of the snowstorm.
In some places, it began to thin, and the outline of a massive estate could be made out there. Its roof and walls were white. Lights were burning in all the windows.
The squad had the feeling that the building was watching them. Several times, the lights in its windows went out and lit up again. This only strengthened the feeling. The estate seemed to blink several times.
"It knows that we are approaching," said the Ice Queen.
The estate was surrounded by a winter garden. Large trees covered in frost, ice statues of monsters and people frozen in various poses. Wild horror was frozen on the people's faces.
"Be careful, don't bump into them," said the Ice Queen. "Although what difference does it make now? These are all the White Prince of Cold's past victims. Those who lost their fight with him."
They were walking toward the main entrance of the gloomy icy building, while a terrible snowstorm was raging somewhere around them. The entrance door turned out to be enormous—up to 16 feet high and apparently very heavy.
With a single gesture of her hand from a distance, the Ice Queen opened it and entered the building.
In the large, dim, empty hall farther inside, the Lady addressed the Cursed:
"When the snowstorm ends, the Prince of Cold will come, and with him his servants—the Ice Giants. That is exactly why there are such enormous doors and high ceilings here. This house is intended for the Ice Giants. But my medallion protects against their entering this building. It will hold them back, but not the Snow Witches who will appear after them, when the Prince of Cold realizes that he will not be able to get inside."
"What about my medallion?"
"You have a different medallion. I don't know what it does, but its function is definitely not restraining foreign creatures."
The Ice Queen intervened in the conversation:
"Or you can take the medallion off yourself and thereby deactivate it. And then the Ice Giants will enter the building and we will fight them. And avoid the horror of the Snow Witches because they are much more dangerous and terrifying. What will you choose, Cursed?"
The Lady must take off the medallion / We will defend ourselves from the Snow Witches
"We will postpone the encounter with the horror until the very end. The Lady must keep the medallion on herself."
The Ice Queen gave a cold smirk.
"Then prepare yourself to face true horror when it comes. There will be more than enough of it."
"I have encountered many terrible things. I have something to face them with."
"Very well. So be it."
They went up to the second floor and hid in its dim rooms.
The snowstorm ended. A strange ringing silence fell.
"The Prince of Cold is coming," said the Ice Queen.
In the cold and strange silence, a lone white figure was moving. If the distance was not taken into account, the approaching figure seemed to be of small stature. But anyone who felt what horror was happening in reality understood that the figure was no less than 13 feet tall. The thing was, the horror was being felt everywhere. It was approaching from the dark corners of the rooms, seeping from white streams of liquid that were beginning to flow down the walls from beneath the ceilings, crawling beneath the armor and clothing in fast-acting poison.
When the figure came closer, it was already possible to make out its white tricorne hat on its head, white uniform, and long white jackboots. A rapier hung from its belt in a sheath.
A madman's smile was frozen on its motionless face, like a mask. Sharp, long teeth. Blue lights were burning in its eyes. Drops of blue liquid were flowing down from strange cuts on its cheeks. Large white creatures with white membranous wings were appearing in the skies beneath low dark clouds, descending onto the shoulders of the giant figure and licking the blue liquid from its cheekbones with their long tongues. Then they were flying upward, while the figure continued walking forward. The process was repeating again and again because the blue liquid was constantly flowing from the wounds on its face.
Four more white figures emerged from the icy mist—two on each side of the Prince of Cold. White giants with long hair, clad in snow-white armor. They were holding staffs in their hands. Their eyes, glowing with blue lights, stared at the estate. They raised and pointed their staffs at the building, simultaneously drawing small circles with the ends of the staffs.
Paths of enchanted frost began running across the windows of the estate. The temperature in the room was rapidly dropping. The squad was releasing clouds of steam with every breath.
"The Giants are trying to drive us out of the estate so that we will engage them in combat before the Witches attack," said the Ice Queen.
A white female face appeared on the right side of the wall, right beneath the ceiling. An ancient, horrifying atmosphere emanated from it.
"But they are too late. The Witches have already come."
Several more terrifying female faces appeared in the air. Behind them appeared figures clad in white jumpsuits tightly hugging their thin bodies. With hands bearing long black nails, they grabbed the Lady, lifted her off the floor, and dragged her through the air.
The Cursed created a sword, jumped up, and severed one Witch's arm. She screamed, flooding the room with blood, and disappeared. The remaining Witches dropped the Lady and lunged at the Cursed.
A terrifying white face appeared before him. Long white hair, black eyes, sharp teeth. She sank her blue lips into his lips, giving him a deadly kiss. He felt a stream of foul-smelling liquid flowing into his mouth and throat. Hostile sorcery entered him. His body became paralyzed; he could no longer move. And then the Witches grabbed him with their hands bearing long black nails and dragged him away into another space.
A large, dim place. Dark walls stretched along the left and right. He was moving horizontally through the air along a dark corridor. Like a broken doll in the clawed hands of a cruel master. The Snow Witches were accompanying him and were floating through the air nearby. Their faces were cold and lifeless. Their eyes, glowing with blue light, were staring into the distance, toward where the corridor was leading.
Large square plates stretched in a single row along the wall on the right. Unknown symbols were depicted on them. Power cables were hanging above them. He felt that this was not a building, but a ship that could travel through space.
The corridor was approaching its end. It was turning. And somewhere beyond the turn, the Cursed could feel something ancient and terrible being present. It seemed that somewhere in the darkness he could make out the outline of a large, thin female figure lying in an unknown capsule.
The Ice Queen appeared nearby. With several strikes of magic, she tore the Snow Witches apart.
"They were dragging you to the Main Witch, who is sick and weak, unable to move and fill this world with evil and icy horror, and so that you could replenish her strength," said the Queen.
She placed her hand on one of the square plates and moved it forward. The entire row of plates shifted after her hand with a prolonged rumble and stopped. The mysterious symbols flashed with bright light and went out.
"The Snow Witches fear and obey the Circle of Sorcery. Only one who can move the Circle is capable of getting rid of their curse. Only the Circle can banish the Main Witch and her minions into other spaces."
"You could have come here immediately and done this?"
"No. The Snow Witches are hidden from prying eyes. Only when the Witches kidnapped you did I see where they were and manage to free you."
The Cursed felt the terrible, massive body lying in the capsule ahead disappear. And all the horror and otherworldly cold disappeared as well.
And then they found themselves in the room of the estate again.
The Cursed was lying on the floor and still could not move. His body had still not recovered from the effects of the foreign magic.
The large window in the room flew open. The glass shattered with a crack, and a cold, piercing wind blew in. The head of the Prince of Cold appeared through the window, and he swept the room with his otherworldly gaze. He saw everyone who was inside. That same terrible smile was frozen on his face, promising nothing good.
The Frost Wail cast a spell. Another wind blew from outside and slammed the shutters of the window closed with force, trapping the Prince's head between them. He growled and rasped. He grabbed them with his hands and tried to pull them apart, but nothing worked. The iron shutters with iron ornamental bars were squeezing the enemy's throat more tightly.
At this moment, movement flashed from the side. The Lady leaped upward and, with a single strike of her sword, severed the Prince's head. It rolled across the floor with a rumble and stopped in the center of the room. The Lady landed and disappeared. With a horrifying gaze, the head, gradually realizing that it was dead, was searching for its killer. Its gaze passed over the body stuck in the window shutters and stopped at the place where the Lady had recently been. But she was gone. Grimacing with anger, the head shifted its gaze to the Frost Wail, who had created the trap that had caused the Prince's death, and spewed the Curse in his direction. He staggered. The large head continued uttering horrifying black words when a boot came crashing down on it and smashed part of its skull. Then another blow. And another. Until it turned the head into a bloody pulp, silencing it forever. It was the Cursed, who had already regained consciousness.
But it was still too late.
The Frost Wail, the demon in a hood and a cloak who had led the Cursed through the city besieged by the Cult, took several steps backward. Then he grabbed his throat with a black clawed hand, rasped, and fell. He did not move again. The lights in his eyes beneath the hood went out. The Curse caused him to die from suffocation, the very death with which he had wanted to kill the Prince.
He saw the Ice Queen staring with a frozen gaze at the bloody mess beneath his feet.
"What?"
"You trampled my brother's head. You don't see something like that every day."
"He cursed the Frost Wail."
"I know."