Dara grimaced. Trust Miranda to cut right to the heart of the matter.
I’m fine, she texted back. You know I’m not that into Christmas. Anyway, I’m going skiing. I’ll call you tomorrow.
It took less than three seconds for her phone to beep again.
SKIING????!! the message read.
Dara giggled softly as she imagined her friend’s face. Neither of them knew how to ski, and more importantly, they had never even thought about trying to learn. Dara had never thought of herself as an outdoors sort of person—at least, not someone who had adventures. Walks in the park were adventure enough for her.
But she couldn’t tell anyone that she was planning on spending the winter holidays in some cozy little place in the mountains, trying to find the Christmas magic she’d dreamed of since she was a child.
She was hoping for a tiny hotel with friendly people: pancakes in the morning and eggnog in the evening, gathering with other guests around the fireplace at night, and long walks in the snow. The websites and brochures for this part of the mountains promised family-friendly, picturesque settlements. And Dara was sick of spending Christmas mornings all alone with only a cup of coffee to warm her.
Dara Jenkins, if there is a man behind all of this you, will tell me EVERYTHING! the next message read. Call me tomorrow!!!
Dara giggled again and then put her phone away. Maybe she could invent a sexy ski instructor. It would probably sound much better than admitting that she was trying to recreate the Christmas holidays she’d missed out on since she was a child.
She turned to look at the mountains rising before her. It was an impressive sight. She’d never seen anything like it. She was an inner city girl, and with her mom working two jobs to support them during most of her childhood, she’d never made it outside the city except for short weekend getaways. Even then, they’d never been able to afford a beach resort or a mountain town.
Dara took another deep breath. The air carried the scent of fir trees and something crisp and crystalline—was that the promise of snow? She could see white glistening on the sides of the mountains that rose in the distance.
She wasn’t quite sure how far up the road would lead, but the guidebook she’d bought had recommended taking a small road that would take her through valley after valley with tiny towns and villages, all prepared for the winter tourists who wanted to take advantage of the snow.
I’ll stop in the first place that has snow, but no drunk snowboarders, she thought.
She didn’t want excitement—just a quiet place for the holidays. Something warm and cozy.
She was just about to get back into the car, when something by the side of the road caught her attention. An old sign stood there, weathered by wind and rain, but when she walked a little closer, she could make out what looked like a glistening castle of snow.
Visit Christmas Valley! the sign read. Home of the largest snow castle in the state!
“Now that sounds promising,” Dara said out loud, a reluctant smile starting to spread over her face.
There were colorful little dots on the picture—children playing in the giant snow castle. And there were adorable little houses with illuminated trees and roofs blanketed with snow.
A real Christmas town. Perhaps her hasty escape from the city had been the right plan after all.
Dara was humming to herself when she returned to her car. The last strings of White Christmas were fading away when she started the engine again. Jingle Bells began to play, and Dara found herself still humming along as she took the turn the sign had pointed to. It hadn’t said how far away the castle was; still, she had her phone and a map in her car, and she had hours left before it would start to get dark.
One way or another, she’d find a little mountain resort. Christmas Valley wasn’t the only option—but for some reason, she was already charmed by it. How strange that her guidebook hadn’t mentioned it.
They probably didn’t cater to the rich snowboarding and skiing crowd. That’s why there hadn’t been an article on it. But that was just fine with Dara, who’d take a snow castle over a fancy bar any day.
The road the sign had pointed her to was narrow. It led her straight into the heart of the mountains, or so it seemed. She drove for an hour while the foothills turned into mountains and the road began to curve along the side of steep cliffs. The road was in good shape, but still she drove slowly. She wasn’t used to this sort of driving, and while it was exhilarating to explore the area, it was also scary.
After she’d taken another curve around a jutting mountain side, a valley suddenly opened up before her. The sight was so beautiful it took her breath away. Nestled into the valley were little houses, all decorated with Christmas lights. There were lights in the trees as well, and smoke rose from the chimneys.
This had to be Christmas Valley! Excitement bubbled up inside Dara, although a moment later, she realized that there was none of the promised snow to be seen.
Then a spot of white hit her window shield.
A snowflake!
Another fell, and another, and through the slow dance of the flakes, Dara saw another sign pointing toward a road that led away from the little valley and up the mountain.
Visit the Snow Castle! it said. The road that led upwards was already covered in a thin layer of snow, and without thinking Dara turned her car to head towards where the sign pointed her.
After all, it was still early. She could go and look for a hotel in Christmas Valley later on. First, she wanted a glimpse of real snow!
She drove very carefully. She wasn’t used to driving on snow, but before this trip, she’d made sure that her car was prepared for the winter. When her mom had left for Europe with her new husband, she’d left Dara her old car. It was nicer than anything Dara had owned before; even though it was at least ten years old, it had been well cared for. Most importantly, it had all-wheel drive. The guidebook had said that she’d be fine on the mountain roads—as long as she stayed on the roads and listened to the forecast.
“This is definitely an adventure,” Dara murmured with a smile on her lips as she drove on through the falling snow. It was like driving through a veil of white. It was beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to stop the car and take a walk through the snow castle.
The road was very steep now. So far, her tires had had no problem with the snow.
But…
With a sudden jolt, she wondered why she couldn’t see any sign that other cars had taken this road lately. But surely there would have been a sign if the castle was closed?
Also, it’s snowing, dummy. Of course you can’t see any tire tracks!
It couldn’t be much farther now. Steep walls of bare rock arose to both sides of the road. It almost felt like driving through a tunnel—only instead of darkness, everything was white.
Dara was still humming along to the radio. A while ago, the program had switched from carols to orchestral pieces. Dara didn’t change the station; it sounded festive and made her think of quiet Christmas nights.
She turned another corner. Everything was peaceful and white—and then she gasped and hit the brakes as hard as she could.
For a split second, the car slid and her heart almost stopped. Then it came to a stand still—mere inches from what looked like a closed tunnel.
Dara blinked at the falling snow. Before her, the steep rocks that had surrounded the small road came together. There was a tunnel that led through it, and above the tunnel, there was a large picture of the snow castle made from some sort of translucent plastic that glistened in the light like real ice.
But the tunnel was blocked. A gate made it impossible to enter. It seemed to be made from the same glistening plastic as the sign, so that it looked like giant icicles blocked her path.
It was very beautiful, but even so Dara felt frustration well up inside her.
“Of course it’s closed today! Of course!” she muttered, her fingers drumming angrily on her steering wheel.
This was supposed to be her perfect winter holiday—but nothing was going as planned.
With a sigh, she switched off the radio.
I guess I’ll come back tomorrow. I should at least check if they’ve got opening times posted, now that I’ve driven all the way through the snow.
Besides that, she’d been driving for so long that a short walk in the snow would be welcome.
She pulled her hood up when she left the car. She’d bought a new parka for this winter adventure. It had been on clearance, and she hadn’t been able to resist when she saw it.
It looked like just the thing happy people in a winter resort would wear: it was pink and hugged her ample curves just right, lined with a fuzzy, white fur that was soft to the touch and made her dream of curling up by a fire wrapped in a warm blanket. It was filled with down, small feathers that were supposed to keep her warm like no other material, or so the saleswoman had assured her. Just the right parka for a winter holiday. She’d never needed real winter gear before. Perhaps it was time to put those feathers to the test.
Her eyes widened when she closed the door and straightened. It was cold!
The wind immediately pulled at her hair, teasing the short, brown ringlets that escaped the hood so that she had to brush them out of her eyes. She shivered, and then remembered to zip her parka all the way up.
Better! The cold was biting at her face, but for now she felt warm and cozy.
Pleased with her preparations, she stroked over her parka, the pink the only spot of color she could see in this world of white. Then she pulled gloves from her pockets and put those on as well before she strode over to the gate of fake icicles.
Up close, the craftsmanship was impressive. They gleamed like real ice, only they were as thick as tree trunks. And it almost looked like they were lit from the inside…
For a long moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off them. The icicles shimmered in pale hues of rose and pink, then changing slowly to a mysterious light blue, and Dara released a slow breath.
She couldn’t say what was making her act, but all of a sudden she found herself pulling off a glove and pressing her bare hand to the fake ice.
“Oh!” she breathed, shocked at the sudden, biting cold.
It felt like a real icicle! How strange.
When she pulled her hand away, moisture was glistening on her skin, as though the icicle had begun to melt at her touch.
Don’t be silly. The plastic is coated by real ice, because it’s snowing and really cold, she told herself. It’s some sort of theme park, not a fairy tale!
She straightened her shoulders. She could just make out some sort of sign behind the icicles, at the other end of the tunnel.
Would that have their opening hours?
Frustrated, she looked around. There was nothing on this side of the gate that she could see: no visitor’s information or map, or even the admission price.
But now that she was so close to the gate, she realized that she’d be able to slip past the huge plastic icicles. To her right, one icicle seemed a little crooked; it was narrower too, and when she tentatively pushed her shoulder through the gap, there was no alarm.
“Hello?” she called out a little uncertainly. She didn’t want to trespass—but it would be really silly to drive so far and leave without knowing their opening hours. “I just want to look at your visitor’s information!”
No reply. Maybe this was a day off for the castle?
Determinedly, she pushed through the gap between icicles. In the tunnel, it was a little warmer. The wind was no longer biting at her. She pushed her gloves back into her pocket as she walked toward where she’d seen the sign.
The tunnel wasn’t long: perhaps twice the length of her car. From the opening before her, light fell in. She couldn’t see anything beyond, because it was still snowing heavily. Everything was white.
There was snow beneath her feet as well. Her steps made an eerie echo. For a moment, she shivered; it felt as though she was all alone in the world. There was nothing but her and the snow, no other living being anywhere nearby.
After what seemed like an uncannily long time, she reached the sign she’d seen from the entrance. It was mostly covered in snow that the wind must have blown into the tunnel. She put on her gloves again to wipe it away—but just at that moment, the heavy snowfall outside ceased, and sudden sunlight came shining in.
Dara gasped, overwhelmed. There, before her, a plane of gleaming snow stretched out, gently sloping upwards.
And there, on top of the mountain, rose the snow castle.
“Wow,” she breathed.
The sight was incredible. The sun was reflecting off all the ice and snow, which made it hard to see details, but Dara had never seen anything so beautiful. She could make out towers and snow-covered roofs, wide walls and windows.
It is huge!
Dara felt as if she’d just stepped through a magic door and landed straight in Disneyland.
How come the guidebook hadn’t mentioned Christmas Valley and its castle? Surely this had to be the main attraction of the area!
Captivated by the sight, Dara took a step forward. A sudden, cold gust of air made her shiver and clutch at her hood.
When she looked up at the sky, the sun that had made the castle gleam and glisten a moment ago had vanished. Instead, everything was suddenly gray and white.
It began to snow again, much heavier than before. The wind picked up as well. When Dara turned around, already shivering despite her warm parka, the tunnel behind her had vanished.
For a moment she stood there, gaping at the veil of white where a minute ago, the entrance had been.
The wind was driving the snow into her face. She couldn’t see more than a few steps in front of her. Everything was white, and the wind was so strong it was difficult to keep her eyes open.
It’s still there. I just can’t see far enough because of the snow, she told herself, but her heart was still racing.
Carefully, she took a step forward, then another. It had to be right in front of her. She hadn’t taken more than a few steps out of the tunnel—she’d probably run into the rock any second now, and wouldn’t that serve her right?
With outstretched arms, she took another step forward. Then a second, and a third.
Nothing.
Dara swallowed, trying to beat down her rising panic.
This is a tourist attraction. It’s completely safe here. I’m just scared because I’m not used to snow.
The tunnel couldn’t be more than a few feet away. Inside, she’d be safe from the wind and the snow. And then she’d climb into her car, put the heating on high and turn the radio on, and drive back down into Christmas Valley.
This would make a fun story to tell there. Maybe she’d make friends at the hotel. This evening, she could sit around a fire with a few strangers, sipping eggnog and laughing at her adventures.
“Everything is going to be okay,” she said out loud, trying to reassure herself.
The wind ripped the words from her mouth. She couldn’t even hear herself over the roar of it. Terrified, she stumbled a few more steps forward—but there was still nothing.
No rocks. No tunnel. No gate.
She was lost in a snowstorm, and no one knew where she was.
“Oh God,” she sobbed, but the storm tore those words away as well.
She took out her phone, fingers trembling, but the signal was gone. With freezing fingers she tried texting Miranda, but it didn’t send. She stared down at the red exclamation mark next to the message, telling her that it wasn’t going anywhere.
Her panic rising, she tried to call 911, but there was still no signal. In her fear, she began shaking her phone, but that didn’t help either, and after a moment, she managed to pull herself together again.
She needed to find her car. Or, if that failed, she needed to find other people.
The castle.
If she could make it to the castle, she’d be safe. Even if it was closed today, an attraction this large would have someone living there for maintenance. Or at least they’d have a working phone line.
Swallowing heavily, Dara turned again. A moment ago, she’d stared straight at the castle. All she had to do was walk forward.
Straight into the storm…
But she’d seen the ground rise sharply to lead up towards the top of the mountain where the castle was situated. As long as she was walking upwards, she couldn’t miss it.
It’ll be all right. This is like a winter Disneyland! No one dies at Disneyland, she told herself firmly, and then she set out.
She couldn’t say how long she walked. The wind was howling and tearing at her. The snow seemed to have turned into tiny pieces of ice that pricked at her skin. She pulled the hood down as far as she could. Her breath was freezing in the air. She could barely see more than where to place the next step. The ground was as white as the sky, so that she couldn’t even say where it ended or began.
But she could feel that she was walking upwards. It was slippery, the snow hiding a layer of ice underneath, but at least she was wearing sensible boots.
Go upward. Keep going up, she told herself.
She might have walked for an hour. Her feet and her hands were hurting from the cold. She still couldn’t see anything. It felt like she was walking in place—but she was still going up the mountain.
Tiredly, she rubbed her hands. Her fingers stung, as though the cold was pricking at her like tiny needles. She was exhausted. At first, she’d kept pulling out her phone to check for a signal, but now she was too tired even for that.
Keep going. Keep going up…
How far could it be? Surely she’d reach it any minute now.
Her lips were numb. Her teeth chattered. Her feet were blocks of ice.
I can’t make it much longer, she thought, staring into the whirling snow. I don’t want to die here… but I’m so tired.
For seemingly endless minutes she continued to pull herself forward.
Help me. Someone… please!
Even the air she was breathing in seemed to be frozen, filling her lungs with ice until it hurt to inhale. She tried to keep going, taking step after step, fighting against the exhaustion that kept pulling at her—but at last it was too much. She’d given everything.
Her weary body sank into the snow, her knees giving out. She was trembling uncontrollably. She couldn’t feel her feet anymore.
It’s supposed to be quick and painless, freezing to death…
Tiredly, she blinked against the snow that was still falling. Suddenly, everything seemed quiet. Had the wind died down?
She was lying in the snow now—but it wasn’t cold at all. She felt strangely warm, and she smiled as the veil of snowflakes parted.
Something large was coming toward her. It was flying. It was becoming larger and larger as she watched, until she could make out wings.
A dragon.
A dragon made of ice, shimmering in a thousand colors as it reflected the light of the sinking sun. More brilliant than a diamond. More imposing than anything she had ever seen.
It was impossible, and impossibly beautiful.
I’m really dying, she thought vaguely, but she wasn’t afraid now. No one had ever told her that when you died, a dragon came for you.
Is he going to eat me? I’m not even a virgin. She was too tired to giggle.
A cloud of snow arose when the dragon landed. She could feel the force of the giant, strong wings beating the air. A second later, there was silence. And then someone took hold of her hand.
Oh, she thought in quiet surprise, fighting to keep her eyes open. A stranger was bending over her, concern on his handsome, rugged face.
The stranger had pale blond hair, almost the color of the snow. He looked a little like a prince out of a fairy tale—if princes in fairy tales wore heavily padded parkas and snow boots.
“Can you understand me?” the man asked, leaning over her.
Dara blinked tiredly.
Dimly, she felt herself lifted into the man’s arms. For the first time, she felt as light as a feather as her head came to rest against a heavily muscled chest.
The stranger was still looking at her. His eyes were a strange hue of gray. Dara had never seen anything like it before. They were almost silver, illuminated by some inner light, gleaming the same way the ice dragon had shone in the sun.
They were beautiful.
Feeling safe at last, Dara closed her eyes and slipped away into sleep.