Chapter 16: 16_Battling an Ice Princess
The footsteps grew closer, sending frosty air ahead of them like a cold front. Maia felt a tremble ripple through her body, but she kept her fists up as she looked around at the Hostel women, all posed for battle.
The footsteps stopped.
“What are you doing here, you icicle?” Cassie muttered.
Maia blinked at the empty doorway she spoke to and then, like a grand finale, the woman stepped out of the shadows.
She approached, one echoing step at a time and Maia found herself staring. She was stunning. Her skin was a beautiful, glowing tan and her hair, it was shocking white and pin-straight, swaying down to her butt.
She regarded them with sharp, silver eyes, her mouth painted an icy blue as she raised one side in a sardonic smirk.
She reached them and stopped.
“Where is he?” were her first words.
Maia looked at the others, but they remained silent, staring at the woman.
Impatiently, the woman sighed and slowly raised a hand. Maia watched in amazement as sharp icicles grew out of her fingertips, the tips pointed and glinting dangerously.
“Where’s Rogan?” she asked again.
“Go to hell, Zainab,” Cassie snarled.
“What do you want with him?” Clover demanded to know.
Scoffing, the woman retracted her icicles as if the Hostel women weren’t even worth the effort. “What do I want with him? Excuse me, Unicorn. My brother is the King of this kingdom. Rogan is of royalty and also my brother’s best friend. I think I have a far greater right to ask after his whereabouts than you simpletons do.”
Maia blinked. She was the king’s sister? Why was she looking for Rogan? Were they…?
“Simpletons?” Cleo asked from where she stood near the staircase, her voice soft, but carrying a frightening undertone to it. The kind you’d hear fearless psychopaths use on a show like Sherlock Holmes. “According to Law 215B of the current People’s Rights Act of Geminor, it is illegal to go onto or barge into private property without permission from the legal owners. We could rip your every hair strand out of its pore and the Elders will be legally bound to giving us high fives. I think you’re the simpleton here… Zainab.”
Zainab’s eyes flashed, blue sparking in the silver as her rage grew. “How dare you recite the laws that my own brother made?”
“He did not make them, he signed off on them,” Cleo corrected curtly. “You’re not welcome here, Princess. So leave.”
Maia’s gaze darted back and forth between the princess and Cleo. Oh, there was bad blood here, alright.
Crossing her arms, the princess smirked. “You gonna make me? Cleo?”
The room was pin-drop silent for a second and Maia completely understood what Clover had said about Cleo’s Gemini panther because, without making a sound, there was suddenly a large, raven black beast leaping through the air.
A shriek tore out of Maia’s throat as Cleo leaped over them, landing with her front paws on the princess’s chest. The woman was throw back, falling haphazardly onto the floor.
“Here we go,” muttered Clover as Cleo rose in her panther form, stalking around the princess.
Rubbing her jaw, Zainab glared at Cleo with blue blazing in her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you,” she muttered, raising herself up without so much as touching the ground with her hands.
They faced each other, Zainab’s hands growing frosty with power and Cleo’s eyes fierce with rage as she growled.
Maia was shook to the core as she looked past Zainab to stare at Cleo. How could a panther be so huge? Cleo’s Gemini form was nearly up to Maia’s shoulder. It was insane.
Their fight was growing far too intense to be done indoors, but the women didn’t seem to be bothered. They simply stood back, watching closely.
Hissing, Cleo ran at Zainab, but the princess raised her hands and there was immediately a slippery layer of ice on the ground and the panther slid smoothly across the room. Flicking out her claws, Cleo dug into the ice and stopped herself before she could ram into Maia.
Startled, Maia’s hands shot out as Cleo stood by her and her palms consequently touched the panther’s thick coat.
The panther turned to her with sharp green eyes and Maia gulped.
“C-cleo, maybe you guys should stop now.”
“Let them fight,” Claudia said. “It’s about time someone ripped this little snowball to pieces.”
“Why don’t you try it, Seductress?” Zainab challenged, holding blue energy in both her palms.
Maia shook her head. “No, you should all stop. Seriously.”
The princess’s gaze slowly turned away from Claudia and from Cleo and every other woman in the room and settled heavily on Maia.
Zainab raised a brow. “Who the *hell*… is she? And why the hell… is she wearing Rogan’s *jacket*?!”
**********************
Rogan rolled his tongue around in his mouth, looking down at the box of “Trojans” that Aiden had gotten him.
“Good, aren’t they?” Aiden asked, smiling from a safe distance away.
Pulling off his shades, Rogan looked at him. “Aiden.”
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
Aiden grinned and shook his head. “I’m good here, thanks.”
Rogan took a step closer, his frustration sizzling and boiling just beneath the surface. “Come here, Aiden.”
When Rogan started stalking across the room to him, Aiden dashed off his throne and hide behind the grand chair, his eyes wide.
“Woah, wait! Rogan, wait!”
Rogan stopped in front of the throne and glared at Aiden over the top. “Do those freaking flowers look like goddamn Trojans to you?! Seriously?!”
Aiden flinched, rubbing his ringing ears. “Geez, you Sorcerers have such loud voices.” He shook his head calmly. “You asked for Trojans and I got you Trojans. What more do you want, best friend?!”
Rogan bared his teeth. “They’re not Trojans!! Their fucking wild flowers!”
Aiden puckered his lips. “Oh. Really? I certainly asked for Trojans.”
Releasing a shuddering breath of frustration, Rogan closed his eyes for a moment. “If I know you...” He looked at Aiden. “You probably asked them for something that looked like Trojans, thinking I’d use the false ingredient and make an ineffective spell. Didn’t you?”
Aiden blinked his silver eyes innocently. “What? Me?! I could never—”
Rogan suddenly dashed around the throne and Aiden made a quick escape, short of breath from holding back laughter. If he laughed in from of Rogan right now, the Kingdom would be burning to the ground in less than an hour.
Rogan clutched the back of the throne, piercing Aiden with a sharp look as he escaped to the front of the chair.
“Come here, Aiden,” he called, a chilly smile curving his lips.
Aiden shook his head, holding up a hand. “Wait...” He panted. “There’s clearly been a misunderstanding. The man who got these probably sent the wrong box.” Aiden flashed him a smile. “Let’s pay him a visit.”
****************
The little shop was cheerful with splashes of color everywhere, flowers brightening up the place and filling the air with delightful scents.
Rogan felt like he’d died and gone to hell.
“Wow,” Aiden muttered, staring at Rogan from across the room. “You’re literally like a giant blob of negativity and evil in this beautifully bright place. The contrast is shocking.”
Scoffing, Rogan tugged his black coat around him, glaring at the colourful pansies with dark eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered back.
Aiden shook his head. “Why won’t you let me get you some colourful clothes? For the past decade, I’ve been trying. All you were is black!”
Rogan closed his eyes on a sigh. “My wardrobe is none of your business, Aiden. Why’s the shopkeeper taking forever?”
Aiden waved a careless hand toward the back of the store. “I dunno, he’s still looking for the right box. Anyway, man, about your wardrobe—”
“Aiden, it’s been two hours!” Rogan cut him off. “You’re King! When you walk into the room, your subjects should scatter like mice to do your bidding!”
Aiden smiled and waved an elegant hand. “I’m not a dictator, Rogan, I’m a gracious King and—”
“Where are the Trojans, Aiden?” Rogan interrupted tiredly.
“Right.” With a nod, Aiden stalked to the back of the colourful store to find the little shopkeeper man.
Rogan crossed his arms to wait, hearing a murmured conversation between Aiden and the shopkeeper. He bit his lip. Could they really have found Trojans? How? When Rogan spent years looking for even one.
“What?!” Aiden suddenly yelled in the back. “You don’t have them?!”
“For fuck’s sake,” Rogan muttered and, pushing himself up, walked right out of the colourful little hell.
Letting the shop door close behind him, he shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking.
The whole damn day had just been a waste of his time. He should have known. If Aiden ever got his hands on a box of Trojans, he wouldn’t call Rogan. He’d burn the whole damn box and bury the evidence!
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Rogan turned a corner into an alley. He didn’t feel like walking, so he’d just transport himself back to The Hostel. The girls were used to him appearing out of thin air by now.
Rogan booted feet came to a stop just before the door he would teleport through and he raised his head tiredly.
People just kept getting on his nerves recently. Provoking him.
Turning his head to the side, he looked at the ghoul that thought it was hidden. They were still following him.
“Tight spot you’re cramped in there,” Rogan said aloud.
A sudden racket filled the alley as piles of boxes and trash fell over, pushed by the startled ghost.
He stood, exposed without to Rogan’s gaze with nothing to hide behind.
Rogan raised a brow at the ghost whose shocked expression seemed frozen on his transparent face.
“What?” Rogan asked with a tilt of his head. “You guys fans or something? You want my fucking autograph?”
The ghost quickly shook his head, bowing over and over in apology.
Rogan’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s sending you guys? I don’t remember ever having conflict with the phantom kingdoms so what hell’s this supposed to be? Huh?!”
His yell startled the ghoul to the root of its soul and Rogan watched it dash out of its hiding spot, racing for the exit.
“You little...” Rogan muttered, following it with determined steps. “I asked a damn question and you run away without answering?”
The ghost kept running, unable to disappear with Rogan on its tail, his power overwhelming it.
“Please...” the ghoul pleaded in a whisper, escaping as quickly as it could.
Rogan easily stayed on its tail. “It’s rude to walk away from people, Casper,” muttered Rogan angrily as he followed the ghost. “And I just happen to be having a shitty day.”
Clenching his jaw, Rogan kept his gaze on the ghoul, determined to follow it. Since he was this worked up, he might as well find out who’s been keeping such a close watch on him.
And hopefully kill them.