A new muse - Rosie and the crack in the frost crystal castle.

Extracts from the drafts for a new, junior horror story with the working title. Rosie and the crack in the frost crystal castle.

This is the second revision to the opening chapter.  All copyrights have been asserted by the author.

Fingers, as cold as the icicle they now snapped from the low grotto roof, felt a single drop of melt water trickle across them. The heat from the two bodies now walking inside had a remarkable effect upon the small cave which had sat untouched and unchanging from the centuries of snow outside. Small changes imperceptible to us had aroused microscopic creatures from their hibernation.

Thick furs provided almost all the protection the leading figure needed against the cold, but utterly failed against the chill as the icicle plunged deep into the nape of his neck. He dropped, falling to his knees in shock and pain. His blood froze instantly as it spurted against protruding ice, cascading to the cavern floor as tiny rose tinted diamonds.

“But…” the man hazarded through desperate gasps to suck air through his ruptured throat. “Why?

“Oh Regan, I shall remember you fondly forever, but I can’t trust anyone not to spit a secret as powerful as this onto the wind, not when I’m this close.”

The cold woman collected the prize once hidden deep within the grotto and strode back into the before the man’s final warm, misted breath cooled within the air.

Chapter One

“I’m sorry, but our policy is no tablet computers at the table.” the waitress said as she tried to carefully lay the steaming bowls onto the table. She was rewarded with an icy stares colder than the snowdrifts and bitter wind blowing outside.

“Come, children. Put them away. Father, you too.” spoke Mother in her best visitors voice.

Father looked up aware he was being spoken to but not sure as to why.

“Yes Dear?”

The glowscreens. We’re not allowed them, apparently.” finished Mother who had failed to look away from her own bright screen.

Father put his tablet down then looked across the table at his beloved family who were all unaware their breakfast had been delivered.

The waitress looked on sternly but also knew when a battle wasn’t just lost but hopeless, so marched back off to the kitchen to pass her dissatisfaction onto the cook.

Other diners,who sat around the log cabin stylised hotel dining room, tutted but did no more.

Emmeline signed and returned her attention back to her book. Mother had been very upset when she had packed books instead of the high-tech gizmos she’d been given.

“Father and I work hard to buy you nice things.” Mother would say when she caught her eldest daughter hiding in the grand old wardrobe reading with the light from a torch. Emmeline would reply saying she enjoyed the interaction, the smell, texture and sound of holding a real book over the hard, unfeeling plastic and demanding fake light of a computer. There was a simple joy in throwing yourself into the story and have the rich black ink wash over you which an electronic device could not compete

Mother said she supported her daughter’s choice but had gone straight out and bought a brand new eReader with its electronic memory crammed with every novel, story and play an eleven year old could possibly imagine. Emmeline had thanked her mother deeply but still snuck out in secret on a weekend to visit Miss Poncembly the Librarian for real books.

“Dearest,” Mother would say, because she’d often forget her numerous offsprings names. “Please put away that dusty old relic, don’t you know they pass on germs and things. That’s the reason people burn them. This glowscreen is much more educational than any book. Look it has...things.”

From her books, Emmeline had learned all about Kings and Knights, prehistoric reptiles older than dinosaurs and theories of how the universe spins. From her tab she learned she got headaches from staring at the flickering screen.

The only one of Emmeline’s siblings who wasn’t mindlessly staring at a screen whilst shovelling the recently delivered food into their open mouths was Rosie, the smallest, youngest and grubbiest of the children by far. Quite how she managed to get so dirty in Mother and Father’s spotless house was a mystery to all, but Emmeline thought part of it could be Rosie’s impressive collection of old bogies she’d happily stick behind the headboard of her bed.

“Why do chips?”

The question signalled a moment of silence. There was always a background noise associated when Rosie was around and it was something people learned to ignore. Those who did not quickly wished they could.

“What Dear?”

“Why chips?” came the high pitched query again.

“Why chips what?” asked Mother but her youngest daughter had already lost interest in this line of questioning.

“I saw an old man with wheels.” Rosie continued. “What are you eating?”

It’s a common rule that the smallest of any family is widely ignored by all. Questioning everything must be a phase she’d grow out of, thought her parents, as soon as she gets old enough to sit and hold a Glowscreen she’d be far more manageable.

Rosie was always allowed to run around in places like this, Mother said it taught her independence and self confidence. Emmeline thought it was because Mother was always too busy on her phone organising meetings and Father was lost in a sea of spreadsheets and plans. She stopped next to one of her brothers and extended one of her small finger up his nose to see what she could find. The brother, Ethan, showed no sign of annoyance or even recognition over the activity. It was only when she extracted a long string of snot and brought it close to her own mouth that Father thought he had better take control of the situation.

“Darling. Snow.” Father pointed away from the table, he hadn’t looked up from his screen so completely missed the wide glazed wall that was almost white with the fullest quantity of fluffy flakes gently falling onto the generous piles already formed outside.

Rosie ran across the dining room and placed her chubby little hands on the glass, leaving smeared trails. “Come show me, show me, show me. SNOW!” she sang in lopsided rhyme before turning her  very short attention to tracing lines of dirt into people and trees.

Mother and Father shared a glance that informed the other that their time was far too precious to show their little precious the snow.

“I’ll take her.” said Emmeline hopping off the stool and taking her sister by the hand as she made another lap around the family.

The dining room was packed with holiday makers wrapped up in seasonal jumpers, long skirts, thick trousers and, hanging from the back of their chairs, wooly jackets. They filled their eagerly munching mouths with sticky treats and savory slices and paid no attention to the collection of assorted children all lined up with their noses pressed against the window as clouds of mist collected and condensed across the cold glass.

It wasn’t like the grey snow that infrequently fell back home, this was crisp, clean and white like the hotel sheets and just as cold when unprotected toes slipped into it.

Emmeline’s attention was drawn towards a small, dwarf of a man, tiny in stature if not in attitude, who was leading a sleigh towards the hotel. His fully appearance was masqued by the distance and the large floating flakes that hung in the air like fat white bees hovering over a flowering field of white blossom.

Ah’s from all sides and in many different accents and languages filled Emmeline’s ears as the animal drawing the sleigh could be identified as a large grey reindeer. Rosie lead a choir of delighted squeals as the creature spread its legs and gave off a long, steaming stream which turned the snow behind it yellow. Emmeline disapproved of this wondering why there wasn’t a reindeer lavatory somewhere in the woods for hygienic reasons. The rangifer turned its head wavings its large antlers from side to side and stopped. It's large black eye widened as if looking directly at its enthusiastic audience and gnashed its orange teeth as if in a large bite.

When Emmeline had managed to drag her sister back to her family they were in deep discussion. Mother and Father rarely dictated what the family would do, even the daily school trip was a work in progress filled with bartering, pleading and promised rewards if only they would do simple things like put their shoes on, get their school bag, put on some clothes. So it was somewhat of a surprise to see them united in laying down the rules.

“We’re on holiday and have come a long way to be here. We do not want you all to sit in the room like zombies in front of your glowscreens.”

This was met with an ensemble of groans and mild protests. It could have been worse if any of the little heads weren’t concentrating so hard on the screens they held close.

“You Mother is right. We are going outside, fresh air’s the ticket. We will do family things and explore the unspoilt countryside, enjoy the simpler life on our way to the grotto thingy…”

This was met with icy silence.

“We’ll buy you all a burger and chips for lunch.” finished Mother. This alone resulted in a cheer.

“Get your pink little behinds up and get your warm coats on, it’s freezing out there!”

To the forty-something year old man, who now stood in the slush outside the hotel getting wet feet, things could have been very different. His twin brother was right now somewhere exciting and presumably surrounded by young, attractive women somewhere hot. Kimi was a rally driver, something these harsh conditions actually favoured, and a good one too. Kimi had received all the luck, passed his driving test first time and landed that seat in the local team. Why couldn’t he have had some of his brother’s good fortune? They’d gone for their driving tests on the same day, with the same instructor. The very same instructor that recognised Kimi’s automobile talents and sent him away for testing. Whilst he was relegated to remaining unlicenced for motorsport and the domestic highways. It was just poor luck he had gone first on the test and crashed into that van. How was he to know the whiteness of the side of the other vehicle would be difficult to see against the foil of the scenery. So what if the thing was parked, off the road, to the side of a house!

His whole life had been one story of bad luck after another, and now he had this.

“What do you mean, it’s booked?” demanded the fierce woman in a storm of words more severe than the big winter blizzards that cut off the area each year.

“I’m sorry.” he said, not feeling sorry for her one little bit. “But the sleigh ride is a very popular activity and guests are asked to pre-book on arrival.”

“On arrival? My good man, we arrived after a great period away from contact with the outside world, as soon as I stepped foot in your little hotel my urgent emails and missed calls that absolutely needed to be answered. Now, I’ve promised my family a ride before lunch and I’m not letting you turn me into a lier.”

“But Ma’am, there are other families who’ve…”

“Other families? Can’t they just shove up a bit? I’ve only got six children.”

“Eight, Dear.” said the man with the title ‘husband’ hanging over him like a display banner.

“Eight, of course, eight. Well, can’t they just schooch up?”

The attendant didn’t have much authority in this world nor did he have much spirit to wield it but cometh the hour, cometh the man and...he completely failed to master the situation. He sighed, pictured his brother Kimi driving around country tracks with flirtatious women in a car with more headlights than the women had clothes and sighed.

“I’m sorry but health and safety rule do limit the number of riders who…”

“It’s health and safety again is it? When’s the next ride? Can you just get this one to do a little flit around the block and drop them off, or something?”

It doesn’t work like that, was what he was going to say but there was a wave of children leapt from the sleigh to be replaced by the next batch of eager winter riders. The woman pushed past and used the opportunity to try and get a few of her children aboard during the chaos.

Emmeline stood by and watched. She wasn’t heart broken at the missed opportunity, she had half expected something to go wrong, things usually did. She remembered the time Uncle Bernard was going to take them to the Panto as Mother was busy at a meeting yet he failed to turn up until January as he forgot. Hen there was the time Father promised a trip to the zoo but instead took them to his biscuit factory as there was a crisis revolving around a new directive to make the biscuits rounder. School plays were routinely missed, one year Mrs Cole, the cleaner, was press ganged into sitting in the audience with her mobile phone on facetime so Mother could watch whilst at work.

The ploy wasn’t working as the man was pulling complaining children from the sleigh faster than Mother could put them in.

Emmeline sidled around to the youngest sister and tried to pull her away from the poor, small man who was being besieged with questions, facts and rambling observations that constituted the majority of the words that emanated from Rosie. The man was so small, Rosie came up to his middle. He was so fat that he could have fitted five of the small girl around his belt.

“And then there’s an An’clo-saurus, that’s a big one with a swingy ball tail. And then there’s a Barry-onic...ix… wid big teeff and roars; ROAR!” Rosie was saying trying to get the words out faster so she could fit more dinosaur facts in.

“I am sorry. I’ll just take her away.” said Emmeline, taking her protesting sister by the hand.

“Not at all, girl. I was educated as I was entertained by the wee little thing. So full of long words. So long they are that I am surprised they do not push a whole through the top of her head just to get some room.” said the dwarf stroking his beard.

Emmeline had managed to pull her sister away and was making her way back to Father who was trying to resolve the issue the same way he tried to show his love to his family: he could be listening carefully to what is being said, process the needs and weigh up the wants and formulate a well balanced, robust way for everyone to be happy and complete, instead he just got his wallet out and waved money around like a fan.

“It’s booked, Sir. I can’t make them lay on another ride. The weather is setting in and there’s a risk of snow.” said the attendant eyeing the fluttering money. He may have been eagerly looking and even desiring the cash if it had been in notes he recognised as currency of this country.

“Snow?” asked Father gesturing at the white stuff laying around in abundance.

“There is snow, and then there is Snow. Look.” said the attendant sighing heavily. “There’s one more ride later which is also booked and then…”

“...and then we would be only more than delighted to ferry your youthful progeny through the mysterious and astonishing forest tracks and glades. Oh, for the wonder on their little ruddy faces we would wager against probability on an extraneous journey just for sweet, little them them.” The small man had broken away from his duties to approach and gave what on the surface looked like the warmest, most welcoming of smiles. What more could we do to facilitate in this trying time of contention between proprietor and doting parent.”

Father beamed at this advancement and offered the wad of money to the sleigh operator who ignored the paper as inconsequential, the only thing he had eyes for were standing by their father’s feet.

Mother steamed over, her high heels easily stabbing holes through the unresisting snow cover.

“Well, that was a waste of energy.” said Mother dispondantly as the sleigh slowly moved off on its trip with happy smiling children giggling with glee.

“Not entirely, Love of my life. I’ve arranged for a special trip later. So, can manage them until then? I have a vital biscuit trajectory convention to web-tend.” said Father.

“Me? What about my disposable sustainability meeting I’m chairing in half an hour?” said Mother.

There was a pregnant pause between them that not even Bryce’s loud, self induced belching, Shannon chasing Shannon around with a steaming brown lump of what recently dropped from the reindeer or Rosie wiping her nose down Father’s trouser leg could distract their unspoken debate.

Now was the time that the attendant won a proverbial medal for bravery.

“There’s always the hotel’s kids club. You could leave them in our entertainment suite.” he said.