“SNOW!”
Nehemiah opened his eyes to a brighter room than he had expected. The light of early morning shone through the window, leaving crisp white lines on the walls. Amna groaned beside him as their bed suddenly shifted.
“Mom! Dad! There’s snow! Get up, we have to go out!”
“What time is it?” Nehemiah asked while Amna yanked the covers out from under Malik’s knees.
“Morning,” Malik answered unhelpfully. “We have to go out now!”
“Get on your coat and shoes, Malik, and let your mother have her coffee.”
“I’m dressed!” Malik interrupted. “Hurry up! Mom!”
“Start the kettle for her coffee,” Nehemiah suggested instead. Malik bounded off the bed and scampered away without another word. As soon as he had left, Nehemiah put a hand to his wife’s shoulder. Amna grunted as she burrowed further under the covers.
“I’ll stall as long as I can,” he promised.
“I’ll be dressed when the coffee’s ready,” she mumbled in return, never emerging from the sheets.
Chuckling, he rubbed her shoulder, then slid out of bed. The floor was freezing under his feet, but Malik had lit the lamps in the hallway already (Nehemiah rubbed at a small ash mark on the wall beside a lamp, to no effect). The little contained flames warmed the hall and kitchen. The kettle was already on the heating stone, and Malik sat in front of it on a chair he had pulled around for the purpose, watching its progress eagerly.
“How long have you been up?” asked Nehemiah.
“Not long enough,” Malik moaned. “I didn’t get to see it coming down. We have to go before it melts!”
Nehemiah peeked out the window and balked at the two feet of snow that lay outside.
“I don’t think we’ll have to hurry that much,” he said.
“Dad!”
“Give us just a little while, Malik,” Nehemiah spoke over his son’s whining. “That much snow will stick around for a few days.”
“Days?” Malik repeated excitedly. “Can I go out in it now?”
“If you put on gloves and stay where I can see you.”
“Can I go to the palace?”
“Not yet,” Nehemiah said, turning to make sure Malik wasn’t trying to race out the door before being explicitly told he couldn’t. Malik slunk back to the kitchen table. “Why don’t we send Raul a note and ask him to meet us somewhere outside? Would you like to go to the greens? That would be a good long walk along Market Street.”
“When can we go?” Malik whined.
“As soon as your mother’s ready.”
With a suffering sigh, Malik put his chin on the table and pouted. Nehemiah pulled out the chair beside him.
“Did you eat? You should have some food.” There was no answer. “Keep yourself busy. It will make the time go faster.”
By the time Amna arrived at the kitchen table, the kettle was whining. Malik leapt to his feet again before she had even fully stepped in the room.
“Sit down,” she told him. “I need my coffee. Go get dressed, Miah. It’s going to be a long day.”
Nehemiah downed the last of his tea — brewed with half-boiled water a few minutes before — kissed Amna’s cheek, and hurried back upstairs. On a whim, he decided to layer extra cottons under his clothes. There was a high probability that he would end up face down in the snow by nightfall. He laced up the tallest boots he had over two pairs of socks, and grabbed extra gloves for all three of them, stuffing them in his pockets before returning to the kitchen. Malik had his chin on the table again.
“Can we go now?” Malik moaned.
“I’m prepared. Did you write Raul?”
“You just missed him,” Amna said. “He’s headed to the greens. Wants all of his advisors there for a show of civilian engagement.”
“Let’s go!” Malik interrupted. Sliding off his chair, he tugged on his mother’s arm until she was forced to stand or spill the last of her coffee. She finished it with an unsteady gulp while Nehemiah corralled Malik into putting on gloves. As soon as Nehemiah opened the front door, Malik barreled past. He slipped almost immediately, landing face first in the snow.
“It’s cold!” he cried.
“Indeed,” Amna replied. She shut the door behind the family again and locked it with a touch.
“Do you need a hand?” Nehemiah asked.
Malik didn’t answer, merely flopping himself over and waving his arms to cover himself in as much snow as possible.
“You will get wet like that, and then it will be even colder,” Nehemiah told him.
“Do you have to take the fun out of everything?” Malik grumbled. Nehemiah stooped to pull him up and brushed the snow from his coat and hair.
They let Malik lead the way, stomping through the unmarred snowbanks and rushing down streets that held the most build-up. More than once Nehemiah’s feet slipped on black ice, and he looked up just in time to see Malik slide to his knees or further. Malik never seemed to mind his falls, and was quick to jump back to his feet.
The greens were bustling with street vendors with carts of crafts, ciders, and food. Half the city seemed to be on the river banks in their coats and scarves, hot drinks cupped in their hands. Nehemiah offered to retrieve a similar cup for Amna, who was gripping uncomfortably at her forearms.
“Mom! Dad!” Malik called from several feet ahead. “It’s solid! The river’s solid!”
“That’s right kid!” the man pouring Nehemiah’s cider shouted back. “Froze overnight. We got skates for rent and sale few stalls down.”
“Skates?” asked Malik.
Nehemiah was saved from explanation by Malik turning around to see the skaters already on the river. He watched with his mouth hanging open for several seconds, then turned to his mother.
“No,” she said.
“Please?”
“Absolutely not,” Amna repeated. She took a long sip of steaming cider to avoid looking at Malik’s upturned, hopeful face.
“Dad?” he tried instead.
“Raul can take you out when he gets here,” Nehemiah offered as compromise.
“Can we go get skates?”
Nehemiah had no reason to refuse this, so he followed as Malik scampered down the stalls, wide-eyed and gleeful at everything on display.
“Wow!”
Malik’s breathless excitement was surprisingly contagious. As Nehemiah was dragged by his hand up to the shelves of skates, he found himself wondering how long it had been since he’d had on a pair himself, and if he was still any good. A family of five was ahead of them in line, two little girls bouncing at their father’s side, while a boy around Malik’s age gathered as many skates as he could in his arms. He dropped most of them when he turned around and saw Malik.
“Laurie!” Malik said, much louder than necessary, and before Nehemiah could decide if he knew the boy and his parents or not. “Isn’t this amazing? Have you ever seen anything like it before? The whole river is solid!”
“We go to Northpointe for Winter Carnival every year,” the boy, Laurie, answered as he tried to pick up the skates at his feet again. “It’s always like this up there. It’s exciting to see snow in Kingston, though!”
“You’ve done this before?”
“My whole family skates,” Laurie said proudly. Before Malik could say any more, however, Laurie’s mother picked up the rest of the fallen skates and led her son away by the shoulder. Malik turned back to his father at once.
“Their whole family,” he whined.
“That’s a discussion you’ll have to have with your mother,” Nehemiah told him. “You have a better chance at convincing her than I do.”
“What sizes can I get you sir— Advisor,” the clerk behind the counter said, correcting herself with a stammer.
“No need for formality, miss,” Nehemiah assured her. “We’re here as citizens. A child’s medium and adult large—”
“Make that two adult larges and an extra large,” A deep voice laughed from just behind Nehemiah’s shoulder. The clerk nearly fell over in her shock at seeing the king at her stall.
“Is Pickett with you?” Nehemiah asked.
“She has her own. Got them sent over this morning from Lakepost,” Raul answered. “But I didn’t want you to leave Amna out! I saw her hunched over her cider down there. Thank you, miss. Got all those, Malik?”
“Yes!” Malik called, already racing back to his mother’s side with the blades in his arms. Raul left a hefty sum, much larger than the cost of four rental skates, on the counter. Nehemiah heard the clerk squeak out her thanks. Looking back at the river now, Nehemiah could see many faces he recognized under their coats and hats. Little Laurie was racing ahead of his sisters, each of whom were holding on to a parent’s hand as they teetered along. Pickett Randolph, who did not appear the slightest bit cold in a sweater and her usual pants, was just stepping off the bank onto the river. She wobbled, too, but hid it well.
“Is Henry joining us later?” Nehemiah asked.
“He volunteered to stay at the palace, just in case anyone needed anything,” said Raul. “I think he’s afraid to get back on the ice after that fall he had a few years ago. He was pale as a sheet looking out the windows at breakfast this morning. I didn’t have the heart to tease him.”
By the time they caught up to Malik, he was already deep in pleading with his mother.
“But Laurie’s whole family skates!” Malik begged.
“I do not see what bearing that has on anything,” Amna grumbled into her empty cup.
“Doesn’t it look fun? Please, Mom.”
“Fun is a matter of opinion.”
“You’ll crush the boy’s dreams, Amna,” Raul laughed. “Where are those extra large? Apologies, Amna, I had to guess your size.”
“You what?”
“Malik, come over here and let me strap those over your shoes,” Raul continued over Amna’s shock and building fury. He ignored her wide-eyed stare completely while he buckled the skates over Malik’s boots, and had Malik stomp around to get used to walking on strips of metal.
“See you on the ice,” he called over his shoulder as soon as his own skates were secured.
“Raul!” Amna tried once more.
“You don’t have to use them,” Nehemiah assured her as Raul led Malik to the river.
“The alternative is months of his teasing,” she grumbled, hunching back over the cider that was quickly going cold in her cup. “I see he got you a pair as well.”
“Malik had convinced me before Raul found us,” admitted Nehemiah. “I enjoyed skating, the few times I’ve been. Raul used to take me to Lakepost and the old fortresses by Northpointe with his mother on holiday.”
Amna swore into her cup.
“Oh? Is there a story I should know?” Nehemiah pressed, chuckling.
“No,” she mumbled. “Nothing like… I was planning… hoping to…” she nudged one of the skates gingerly with her foot.
“Never?” Nehemiah asked.
“Sudapor is not a place for skating,” replied Amna. “Even when it gets cold enough, the coast won’t freeze over. This is the first time I would have had an opportunity…”
She let her voice die again, glaring at the pair of skates at their feet. Nehemiah waited to see if she would continue. When she didn’t, he took a guess and leaned over to sort the skates.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taking the fall, probably,” he said, pulling the buckle as tight as it would go over his shoes.
“If you would like to join, I will stay by your side.”
“Going out onto ice in public knowing you will fall?” Amna asked, aghast.
“The first fall is the hardest one,” he told her. “After that, the fear of it goes away.”
With a final tug, Nehemiah secured the other skate and stood up on shaking legs. He stomped through the snow around the bench, as Raul had instructed Malik to do, to find his balance again. When he felt steady enough to circle the bench without swaying, he looked back to Amna. She was still glaring at the skates.
“Here.”
Kneeling on the bench beside her, Nehemiah took Amna’s long hair in his hands and started to braid. She neither commented nor moved. When he reached the ends of her hair, he twisted it up, tucking it under itself. Then, he took off his own hat and pulled it down over her head.
“No one will pay any attention to you like this. You’ll blend in with everyone else,” he said.
“This is ridiculous,” Amna countered.
He tightened the scarf playfully around her neck, then knelt to buckle the skates on her feet. Amna stayed very still while he did so, watching his hands wordlessly. He kissed her knees before standing again, and held out his hands to her. Amna scoffed, but told hold of his fingers anyway. Her legs shook so badly that she fell onto his shoulder at once.
“Steady, steady!” Nehemiah chuckled.
“Easy for you— would you keep your voice down, Miah? I will sit back down!”
“You’re doing fine,” he assured her. “Keep your feet a little further apart, and turn your toes out. Better?”
She gave a disapproving sniff instead of an answer, but did walk easier after his advice. Nehemiah led her twice around the bench before asking if she wanted to attempt the ice.
“Of course I don’t, but it’s a matter of pride now,” she grumbled.
“I won’t let go,” he promised again. Holding out his arm, he balanced her weight as best he could on his elbow and shoulder. He dug the blades of his skates deep into the snow, sticking them in the frozen slush of the mud beneath for support. They wobbled perhaps a little worse than the other couples making their way to the frozen banks, but this was as much from Nehemiah’s stifled laughter as from Amna’s unsteady feet. He stepped onto the ice first holding a convenient tree branch for support while he found his footing. When Amna followed him, it was with stiff knees and a bent back, her free arm thrust as far out form her body as she could hold it in her fight for balance.
“It’s easier once you pick up some speed,” he said, failing to keep his voice even.
“I am an alchemist and physicist by trade, Nehemiah. I know the theory,” she growled in reply.
“Right foot first, at an angle out, there you go.”
Nehemiah could feel his own feet falling back into patterns they had learned years ago, sliding along the ice until the angle pulled at his thigh, then lifting to let the other foot take charge, switch, repeat. Amna however, who had no muscle memory to fall back on, was attempting the sort of tip-toe-stomp that was mostly used by the children around her. None of Nehemiah’s careful guidance seemed to have any effect.
“Longer strides, left, right—”
“You are not helping my concentration.”
“Bend your knees a little. That will help you balance.”
“I’m very certain I’ve already said I know the theory. The practice will take more time.”
“Look up.”
“I do not think so.”
“Look up, Amna.”
Her arm swung around to counter her shaking legs, and Nehemiah reached to catch her hand. For a fleeting moment, she did look up at him, her eyes huge with panic and fury.
“Sh—!”
She didn’t even have time to finish her curse before their feet collided and the rush of falling lifted Nehemiah’s heart and dropped his stomach. They had stayed close enough to the river bank that he was able to land in snow rather than directly on ice, but he could do nothing about Amna dropping onto him, her arms out to keep from crushing him under her weight. As soon as she hit him, she scrambled to get upright again. The skates and the ice prevented her from being able to steady herself, however, and she crashed into him again a moment later, swearing all the while.
“First fall accomplished. It will be easier now. Slowly, Amna!”
“Madmen, the lot of you,” she growled. “I have married a madman who willingly walks on ice and coerces others into his insanity for amusement.”
“Your hair is falling,” he pointed out. She swore again, trying to fix it while still crouched over him. “Sit,” he told her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Let me fix it.”
Her knees slipped again, and left her with no choice. Nehemiah pushed himself to kneeling, half in snow and half on the ice. He brushed the signs of their tumble from her shoulders and hat first before twisting her braid tighter and tucking it back into the hat.
“Would you like another go?” he asked.
“Not particularly.”
“I can walk you back to the bench, let you get another cider. Malik will probably never notice you were gone,” he offered.
“What was I thinking?” she continued to herself. “Ice is difficult enough with wide, sturdy shoes. What sort of fool thought to attempt it on knives strapped to their feet?”
“Do you think you can stand?”
She glowered at her knees instead of answering, so Nehemiah stood first, very unsteadily. He dug one skate deep into the snow and set the other parallel to the bank before holding out his hands for Amna. She took them without meeting his eyes, and copied his stance. Smiling while she couldn’t see, Nehemiah brought his foot back onto the ice. After a moment, Amna gave a quiet groan and copied this, too.
“Long strides, feet apart, build a little speed,” Nehemiah said before they started. He waited for Amna to grumble her agreement, then took a step forward. She held tightly to his arm, but followed his advice better when they started moving forward again. Although she was still shaking, Nehemiah did notice her looking up more and matching his speed even when he set the pace fast enough for his own legs to feel steady. He led them down three blocks before attempting a turn. Even then he took the motion slow and wide. Amna’s legs tried to buckle, but her numbing grip on his forearm kept her upright. In the sparser area of the river, out of sight of the crowd at the greens, he took her to the opposite bank to lead her in a straight line upriver again.
In the ten minutes before they were spotted, Amna’s knees never stopped shaking.
“Mom!”
Malik’s call startled Nehemiah more than it should have, and almost made them crash again. He did manage to anticipate at the last minute that Malik was probably zooming toward them, and held out his free arm to encourage Malik away from his mother.
“You got her out! We’re all skating! Way to go, Dad!” Malik shouted, swinging around Nehemiah’s extended hand. The sudden swing almost threw his balance yet again, and he felt Amna sway alarmingly beside him.
“Care, Malik!” she hissed.
“Come on, Mom,” Malik moaned. “It’s more fun when you’re going fast!”
“Then keep going and loop back to us,” she suggested through gritted teeth. “And try not to break anything!”
“I won’t! Raul already showed me how to fall!”
A quick glance up did confirm this. Raul was skating a little stiffly, with powdered snow and ice shavings stuck to his left leg and rear. He waved as he scooted their way, cutting a path with clumsy largeness and many apologies. It took half a block for him to catch up, by which point the Smedleys had steadied their feet again.
“Looks like you took a big one, ‘Miah. Did Amna push you?” he asked.
“I am standing right here,” Amna said.
Raul blinked, and leaned over with interest, then laughed broadly.
“I didn’t even recognize you! Thought ‘Miah was just being a gentleman to the local citizenry.”
“If I am going to push someone over, you will be first in line, Raul.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Raul chuckled, unfazed. “Malik, take my hand. Your dad could use both of his.”
“I want to skate with my family,” Malik said, clinging to Nehemiah’s hand all the tighter. The family swayed again.
“You won’t be skating for very long if you keep pulling like that. Come on, take my hand for a moment and let’s all go together.”
This Malik accepted. They went in a wobbly line, Raul moving too slow and Malik too fast for good balance, for five blocks past the commons before Malik forced them to turn. Amna found herself with horror on the outside of the circle, and accidentally let her panic show. Nehemiah dropped Malik’s hand to help her slow down.
“Wait for us a block up,” Nehemiah suggested over Malik’s whine. “We’ll catch up and join you again.”
“Thank you,” Amna whispered as soon as the group separated.
Raul, smartly, led Malik in a little circle up by the next block so they didn’t have to stop, and Nehemiah felt much steadier taking his hand again. Amna needed a little less help with every step, though her focus still made her too stiff to skate well. By the time they reached the greens again, Amna was looking longingly at the shoreline.
“You can stop off here,” Nehemiah told her. “I think I’ve only got one more round in me.”
“Aw!” Malik cried.
“One more lap,” Raul said. “You can’t stop just when you’re getting good.”
“I will do as I please without teasing from you. I was not intending to come out at all. I believe I have far surpassed expectations at this point,” Amna replied sharply.
“King’s orders now,” Raul laughed loudly. “Once more around!”
The only warning Nehemiah got was a tightened grip on his wrist. He looked up to see Amna’s eyes flash, her gaze locked straight ahead, where a tree that sat right on the bank was rapidly approaching. It was within her reach. Nehemiah made a split-second judgement and yanked up on Malik’s hand while turning his skates at a sharp angle. At the same time, Amna half-grabbed, half-crashed into the tree and swung around its trunk to a snowbank. Nehemiah’s turned skates followed, and Malik’s raised arm stopped most of his fall. Raul, however, unaware at the end of the chain, swung around, arms waving, feet flying, completely out of control. He careened around the family and landed face first in the snow.
“I am finished for the day,” Amna announced, still gripping the tree for support as she yanked off her skates. “If anyone wants cider, I will be happy to pick some up while you return these death traps.”
“Cheat!” Raul cried through a mouthful of snow. “How do you know how to play crack-the-whip?!”
“I am a physicist, Raul,” she said. “I understand how kinetics work.”
“Are you alright?” Nehemiah asked, pulling Raul to his feet while Amna stomped away. Malik could barely stand for laughing.
“Totally fine,” Raul replied. “My pride’s a little hurt, but she threw me right into the snow. Only my toes hit the ice. How are you and Malik? I didn’t clip you, did I?”
“No, she gave me a second of warning,” said Nehemiah.
“Intentionally?”
“I’m choosing not to think too hard about that,” Nehemiah muttered, looking over his shoulder to see Amna still stomping towards the skate stall. “Do you still want another round?”
“Yes!” Malik cried at once. “Dad, can Mom throw me into a snowbank, too?”
“Definitely not from here, but I’m sure she’d be happy to do that from the bench there or our front porch at home.”
Malik accepted this, though he made a face about it.
“I’ll take you around again,” Nehemiah conceded. “Brush yourself off and go find Pickett, Raul. Let’s get this show of civilian engagement over with.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Raul said, finally getting to his feet and brushing a layer of snow from his pants. “There isn’t a person here who didn’t see that happen.”
Nehemiah glanced around for the first time and saw that Raul was completely right. Most people in sight had their hands to their mouths as they stared to their fallen king and Advisor. The exception, of course, was Pickett Randolph, who had both hands clutching her sides as she laughed so hard she almost fell over, too.
“Just the impression I was hoping to make on the populace,” muttered Nehemiah.
“Once more around to prove that we’re friends, then you can go to the cider, and I’ll hold off on teasing for the rest of the day,” Raul offered.
Nehemiah took him up on this, and they thoroughly enjoyed themselves on either side of Malik as he raced them around the gathered citizens. Nehemiah only had to pull his son out of others’ way twice, and both times he managed not to fall down, even though Malik would go limp with laughter in his grip, spinning around on the ice with only Nehemiah’s hand holding him upright. Raul had a much harder time keeping clear of other skaters due to his size and being on the inside of the large circle they made. He was better at catching others than himself. He fell twice more, trying to avoid other people, one of whom was Pickett Randolph, who teased him something dreadful until Nehemiah sent Malik with her to give Raul a break.
Back at the bench, Amna was waiting with the promised cider, which she kept warm with a heating rune atop the stone bench.
“That’s illegal, you know,” Raul told her, indicating the magic.
“I can put the cup in the snow if you prefer it cold,” Amna returned.
Raul took the cup without further comment. He brushed her magic aside, but sat where it had been, clearly enjoying the warmth the rune had left behind on the stone.
“Malik wants to be dropped into a snowbank when you get the chance,” Nehemiah told her.
“He gets this from you,” she sniffed back.
“He gets it from all of us, to varying extents,” Nehemiah chuckled.
“Don’t pull me into this!” Raul protested. “He’s not mine! I had no part in it.”
Nehemiah and Amna snorted their doubts simultaneously, which tipped Raul into laughter again. Nehemiah couldn’t help joining him, and for the first time all day, Amna finally smiled.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” Nehemiah whispered a minute later, once Raul had taken his cider back to the shore, determined to show the people of Kingston that he was one of them.
“I am going to get them all for this eventually,” Amna replied, though the smile lingered on her lips. She raised her mug to inhale the steam once again. “Just you all wait.”
28 years later
“SNOW!”
Malik woke with a jolt as the bed rocked under him. He had time to blink around the bedroom in confusion before the wind was knocked from his chest by a sudden weight there.
“Livy, what time is it?” he heard Nora groan.
“Morning!” Livy chirped unhelpfully. “Come on, Mama! Dad! There’s enough to sled!”
“Have you been outside already?” Malik asked. He pushed himself to sitting so his daughter tumbled giggling to his lap.
“No, I’m supposed to get you first, then we can all go!”
“Supposed to?” Nora asked.
“Mhmm!” Livy said brightly. “Gramna said not to leave without waking you and telling you all about it. Come on! Before it all goes away! Dad!”
“Gramna?” Nora repeated blearily. She exchanged a look of deep confusion with Malik, who swore very quietly under his breath. “Livy, did your Gramna come wake you up this morning?”
“She sent a note. But I checked in the library, and she was right! It’s white everywhere! You have to come see!”
“I’ll go,” Malik groaned. “Over here, Livy. Let your mama sleep. This is my punishment, not hers.”
“Punishment?” Nora asked.
“I absolutely deserve this,” he groaned, wincing as his feet hit the floor. “But do not tell either of my parents that I said that.”
“Dad, Dad! Do you think the river’s frozen like in Lakepost?” Livy squealed. “Can we go skating?”
“You know Livy, I really, really hope it is,” Malik said as he tucked Nora back under the covers, where she fell asleep again almost instantly. “And I want you to ask your Gramna to take you skating. She can’t say no to you.”