Wizarding Agency for National Defense: Ice to Ski You

Watching the snow fall, each flake as thick and fluffy as the last, my brain rejects what I’m seeing. See, the thing about snow is it usually falls down. This snow is falling up. Why is that? I look around, turning my ringing head left and right to see that I’m in a tree. Upside down. I’m dangling from the branches of a great big pine tree. What the hell am I doing up here? And why is it snowing? For some reason the first thing to come to my mind is that it’s mid June in New Hampshire.

Okay, let’s take a moment and recollect my jumbled and tangled thoughts. Let’s start with a name. My name is Tina Cromwell. No, wait… it was Tina. While people called me that up until a year ago, I had stopped thinking of myself as Tina since my last year in high school, about twelve years ago. My name is Thomas Cromwell. Great. Now where am I?

Something in my memory rings out that I am on Mount Washington, though not really high enough to have this level of snow in June. That’s why my partner and I are here. Partner? I parse my memories for a romantic partner, but there are none. No, this is a professional partnership. Edgar E. Edwards—Eddie to his friends—is my partner on this… quest? No, mission. We’re government agents! Secret government agents?

Now it’s come back to me. We’re agents of a secret government agency called W.A.N.D., the Wizarding Agency for National Defense. We’re tasked with protecting the mortals of the United States from magical threats, while also keeping the world of magic a secret from them. Mortals have never done well knowing about magic, which is why the wizard Merlin had cast his ritual to divide the mundane and magical worlds into two separate realms back in the Dark Ages.

Name: check. Occupation: check.

Now how did I end up in this tree? Eddie and I came to this mountain because this blizzard had cropped up out of nowhere. It happened overnight and had already claimed the lives of a few hikers who weren’t prepared for snow. When we got out here we found that the focal point was a ski lodge that hadn’t existed last winter. It’s run by a husband and wife named…

Rime. John and Shawna.

Right. They seemed normal enough, and they already had customers in the lodge. Eddie thought for sure it was an inside job, but we couldn’t very well go interrogating the guests or the owners without blowing our cover. The number one rule for W.A.N.D. was that we couldn’t reveal ourselves as wizards unless we knew the person we were dealing with was also a member of the magical world, lest we inadvertently reveal the existence of magic to a mortal.

Eddie, being a Master of Evocation Magic isn’t as handy for the investigation side of our jobs. Evocation is the school of energy manipulation, which often results in combat magic. Witches and Wizards are generally only able to master one school of magic, capable of performing incredible, powerful feats. Then there are those like myself. We’re called Jacks of All Schools, because we’re able to nearly master them. While we can’t perform the most powerful spells in each school, we can do a lot more than the average magic wielder.

So Eddie is most likely still at the lodge. And me? I had stepped outside to perform a bit of divination magic to see if I could find the magical focal point for the storm. Did I? Maybe, but I really can’t keep thinking with all the blood rushing to my head.

I look up…uh…down to the ground and am jolted by the sight of a cold and decrepit body at the base of my tree. She looks preserved in ice, her long sleeve hiking shirt mottled with flecks of snow. There is also a large wound in her chest, too big to be that of a knife. What could have made that—

My detective brain is interrupted by the rush of cold wind and a loud WHACK right next to my left ear. I look over to see a thick icicle, probably as wide as my thigh. Glancing back the way the icicle had come from I see an absolute beauty of creation. It’s an Ice Golem, its body made of densely packed snow and ice, its head an igloo shaped mound atop a broad shouldered body. Folk lore calls these guys “Abominable Snowmen”, and they’re generally the creation of an Ice Mage. That tracts with the whole “snowing in June” thing. They’re usually no taller than eight or nine feet, but this one is as tall as a house! Whoever created this guy is one powerful S.O.B.

Feeling like Luke Skywalker in that cave on Hoth, I slowly reach into my Carhartt jacket, which hides my wand’s shoulder holster. The Golem stares at me with sunken eye sockets, its mouth spread into a grimace of razor sharp icicle teeth.

No sudden movements, Tom, I tell myself as I pull the wand free and prepare my spell. I’m still upside down, which isn’t ideal, but I think if I can just…

With blinding speed, the Golem punched out with one hand, and another of those massive icicles comes my way, this one perfectly aimed for my heart.

I wave my wand and shout, “Eflect-Day!” The icicle hits an invisible barrier and shoots up, slicing through the branch holding me in place. Screaming, I plummet to the ground.

“Evitate-Lay!” I shriek, my voice totally not a shrill wail. I hover mere inches above the forest floor before dropping harmlessly the rest of the way. Scrambling to my feet, I face off against the monster standing before me. It lumbers my way slowly, and a quick evaluation tells me it’ll be nearly impossible to outrun this thing. The snow is up to my knees, and I can already feel my pants growing heavy with the sopping wet moisture.

What do I know about Golems? They originated in Jewish mysticism, often made from clay or mud, but they can really be made of any material so long as it’s formed around a magical core, like a heart. Right, the core is their power.

“Ocate-Lay Ore-Cay,” I gasp in the frigid air, diving aside as another of those icicle projectiles rockets my way. The Golem’s chest begins to glow as the core reveals itself to me. I get to my feet and make a few very complicated gestures with my wand, generating kinetic energy with each movement. As I spin out of the way of a snowball the size of a Smart Car, I point my wand at the creature and bellow, “Ireball-Fay!” The gathered energy of my movements coalesce into a massive ball of heat energy, the flaming ball jetting from the tip like the blast of a shotgun.

Despite being prepared for the kickback, I am still launched backwards by the force. I slam into the tree I just vacated and watch as the fireball rips through the Ice Golem and melts the magical core within.

Arms going limp, the Golem falls backwards, crumbling to heap of snow as it drops. Panting, I push myself off the tree and stumble forward. The heat from my fireball melted a path between me and the Golem, so I’m able to move freely. Cold racks my body as the adrenaline from the fight ebbs. I need to get back to the lodge, back to Eddie… but I don’t even remember how I got out here.

“You’re smart kid,” a voice echoes in my memory. “You stopping all of this has a nice ring to it, I’m sure. Alas, I can’t let you ruin the fun.”

This memory is followed up by the rush of cold air around me and the unmistakable scratching of pine needles on my skin. Whoever sent me flying through the air is clearly our Ice Mage, and if I can get back to the lodge I have a pretty good idea of who it is. That’s easier than done, since I have no idea which direction I was thrown from.

I swirl my wand before me, eyes closed and envisioning the ski lodge as I say, “Ath-Pay Orward-Fay.” I feel a surge of energy escape my wand and open my eyes to see a faint green aura trail winding through the trees. Willing my energy through my wand I also release a low heat wave to melt the snow along my path.

A mere thirty minute walk later the ski lodge lays before me, down a steep hill. From here I can see a pulsing energy radiating from the peak of the rooftop. Apparently my divination spell from earlier is still working. The magic controlling this snow storm is emanating from the weathervane atop the lodge. The memory comes back to me as I walk down toward the building. I had climbed up onto the roof to investigate the energy and had found a magical conduit in the shape of a snowflake. It’s disguised as a weather vane, but it’s actually an incredibly powerful source of magic. Something a mere Mage couldn’t possibly control.

As I trudge into the lobby of the ski lodge, I find Eddie sitting casually in front of the fire, sipping from a mug of hot cocoa. I stomp over and yank the mug from his hands.

“Hey!” He whines. Eddie is a middle aged, balding man with a wide face and a mischievous glint in his eye. When he sees the state I’m in his face grows serious. He says, “Hecate’s Panties, Tommy Boy, what happened to you?”

I down his hot cocoa, relishing in the burning sensation traveling down my throat, the chocolate seeming to coat my every being. “I know who’s making it snow,” I grunt hoarsely.

Eddie nods and stands. “Alright, let’s bag the guy then.”

“It’s not going to be that simple,” I say grimly.

“It certainly isn’t,” comes the voice of our host, Mr. John Rime. I get my first good look at him since our little rendezvous on the roof. He’s a tall, lanky man with windswept gray hair and eyes the shade of storm clouds. A dark turtleneck clings to his medium build, while his khaki trousers hang rather loosely on his legs. His left hand glints with a tungsten steel wedding band, which matches the delicate band around his wife’s ring finger. She, unfortunately, doesn’t appear to be anywhere around.

“Mr. Rime,” I say, drawing my wand instinctively. Eddie follows suit, not asking any questions. It’s amazing how quickly trust can build in mere months of working together. “Or should I say, Mage Rime.”

“Mage?” Rime asks, offended. “You think I’m some lowly mortal Ice Mage? Honestly, kid, that hurts. Do you really think a paltry magic wielder could create this level of storm while also creating a Golem the size of a house?” I don’t say anything. Eddie told me it’s best to let the bad guys monologue to incriminate themselves. When I don’t respond, Rime continues. “So who are you guys, just a couple of wizards who happened to come across our little winter wonderland?”

“Wrong, bucko,” Eddie says, moving his wand in a simple pattern to project his badge in the air. I do the same. “We’re with W.A.N.D.”

Rime’s eyes brighten. “W.A.N.D.? Oh thank Kringle.”

“Come again?” I ask.

The lodge owner looks frantically around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were feds. I didn’t think you’d be able to help me, but if you’re here on official business…” He goes rigid as his wedding band begins to glow. Runes etched into—not steel—but iron stand out strong across his finger.

“Now now, dear,” Shawna says, stepping out from the room beyond the front desk. She holds her hand out, and her own ring emanates the same energy as John’s. “Don’t go running to the cops at the first sign of hope.”

Eddie moves his wand to point at her while I keep mine on John. He says, “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to—”

“Shut up,” Shawna snaps, and I just barely manage to throw a ward up over Eddie as John launches a volley of icicles at him. I notice his look of strained reluctance before the attack. Shawna scowls at me and shakes her head. “You damned wizards couldn’t leave well enough alone. I had a sure thing going here!”

“And what ‘sure thing’ is that?” Eddie asks.

Shawna purses her lips, but I can tell she wants to tell us. She’s burning with it. So when John pipes up, it was all the convincing she needs.

“Go on, Shawna,” he says smugly. “They’re going to be dead here in a moment anyway.”

“Yes, you’re right,” she says excitedly. “I’ve been dying to tell somebody, of course. It’s not everyday you bind yourself to—and entrap—an all powerful fae of Winter.”

My face falls as I look to John, who simply tips a wink my way.

“John is actually—“

“Jack Frost,” I mutter.

Shawna’s face grows red. “Okay, rude of you to take the reveal from me in the middle of my monologue.”

I look at the man standing before me, everything clicking into place. “You’re really Jack Frost?”

“I am,” Frost says. “How did you like my Golem, Agent? Did you learn anything?”

Eddie is waving his hands, his face scrunched up. “Hold on, hold on. I’m confused,” he lies. He’s putting on what he calls his “Columbo act”. “Why in the world did you entrap Jack Frost?”

Shawna, seeing her chance to gloat, jumps on the opportunity. “Because I have a monopoly on summer skiing in New Hampshire! No other ski lodge in New England can host skiers right now!”

Eddie stares at her blankly. “You captured one of the most powerful winter fae… as a marketing scheme?”

I need to think fast. One thing that I know about the fae is that they never mince words. They say exactly what they want to say. They also loathe being entrapped by mortals. Jack wants out, and he’s said a few things that he didn’t have to say. What were his words up on the roof?

“You’re smart kid. You stopping all of this has a nice ring to it, I’m sure. Alas, I can’t let you ruin the fun.”

Way too many words there—why say all of that? I get it immediately. “Has a nice ring to it”. The rings. I could piece that together pretty easily by the way they both glow. She’s using iron rings with runes to force Jack to do her bidding. Okay, so I need to get the rings off. Well, no, only one ring. The binding only works if both parties wear their rings. There’s no way I’m getting close to Jack, so it has to be hers. I’m not getting close to her without her siccing her guard fae on me though.

Wait, what did he say about the Golem? “How did you like my Golem, Agent? Did you learn anything?” What did I learn from the Golem? The core? No, that doesn’t make much sense here… I did learn that its icicles were sharp enough to cut through a tree branch…

It all clicks into place as I make eye contact with Jack (Note: eye contact with the fae is very dangerous and not advisable). Rather than steal my soul, however, Frost seems to see the gears clicking into place in my mind, because his lips curve ever so slightly upward.

“Shawna, dear,” he drawls boredly. “I’m tired of these two, can we just kill them?”

Shawna looks away from Eddie and asks, “What? Oh, okay. Yes. Like all the others, now. An icicle through the heart should do nicely.”

Jack Frost grins wide at me as he says, “My thoughts exactly.” He holds up his right hand, palm facing me. Ice magic swirls around his fingers as the spell works up. I sense Eddie tensing where he stands, but I can’t focus on that right now. All of my attention is on Frost.

When the icicle launches from his hand, time seems to slow to a crawl. I watch it spin as it moves directly toward my heart, but I’m ready for it. My wand was raising before the icicle was even formed, and the words are escaping my lips before I’m even able to think them.

“Eflect-Day!”

The icicle glances off my ward, and I pray that I got the angle right as the projectile now races towards Shawna, who is so oblivious to the changing situation that she doesn’t even have time to react. Her hand is up, palm facing outward as if she were controlling Jack’s movements. The icicle passes clean through her fingers, severing them from her hand.

Eddie watches the ring finger spin overhead and laughs aloud.

He points his wand at the ring as the runes fade and bellows, “Atter-Shay!”

The ring—and the finger still attached to it—explodes in a cloud of dust. Shawna stands shrieking, clutching her bleeding hand.

“You monster!” She shrieks. “I’m going to bleed out!”

Jack Frost steps forward, pulling his own band off with a wince. He smiles darkly and says, “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem for long, my dear.”

There’s a gust of cold air, and Shawna is nothing more than an ice sculpture.

Jack takes a deep breath. When he looks at me, I tense slightly, but he only smiles. “You did good, Wizard. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

Praise from a fae is rare, and as he vanishes in a swirl of snow and wind, I can’t help but smile proudly.

“Well,” Eddie says simply, “married life isn’t for everyone, I guess.”