Ice by Charlene Hartnady

Penelope

My cell phonealarm blares so loudly that I clutch my ears and groan, sitting up. I pat the side table, trying to find the wailing device. My bedroom is still cast in shadows, the sun not up yet.

“Too early,” I mutter to myself as I swipe my hand over the screen, still trying to stop the insistent blaring. I sigh as the noise ends, and with it comes blessed silence.

I sit there for just a moment, taking stock. My head feels okay. My stomach, too.

Great!

That’s perfect. I’m fine. A-okay.

I was on my way home from the shops yesterday when I suddenly felt ill. My head started pounding, and nausea rolled through me. I barely made it home in time to throw up in the toilet. I crawled into bed, set my alarm for the morning, and here we are. I can’t believe I slept for so long. It must have been one of those twenty-four-hour bugs.

Aside from my mouth tasting like something died in it, I feel fine. I can get right back to work once I shower…and brush my teeth. They sure need it.

I check my phone. Just as I suspected, there are at least a dozen messages of concern. I was missed. Of course I was! I can’t sneeze without everybody knowing about it.

I’m special.

Unique.

My gift is as rare as it is precious.

I can’t afford to fall ill. If anything were to happen to me…to us… I shudder to think. We are stretched too thin as it is. There is no time to be sick, to take a holiday, or too long of a break. It’s work, work, work. I used to love my gift. I felt so lucky when I found out the hand that Fate had dealt. Not anymore. I’m tired. I’m lonely. I’m complaining, which isn’t going to help.

I give my head a quick shake. There is no point in dwelling on it. I’m fine. I need to keep it together for my team. We need to keep moving forward. There is no other option.

The future of the whole planet is at stake here.

No biggie!

I get up and stretch. Then I almost trip over my shoes. They are right next to the bed, where I kicked them off before collapsing onto the covers. Come to think of it, I still feel a little weird…not quite myself. I’m good, though; way better than yesterday. I will be able to perform my duties.

I yawn as I reach the bathroom and then grimace as I catch a whiff of my breath. Barf-breath! Damn! It’s worse than I thought. It’s not like I had a choice in the matter. I was ill. Not like any stomach bug I’ve ever had.

I turn on the light and squint. I need coffee…stat! I half-expect my stomach to object, but it doesn’t. I might still feel a little weird, but at least the nausea is gone.

I grab my electric toothbrush, squeeze on some toothpaste, and begin to lift my hand to my mouth as I look into the mirror for the first time. I drop my toothbrush with a clatter. The bright blue paste splatters across the shiny white surface of the sink. The brush stutters for a few seconds before vibrating again in earnest.

My eyes are wide, and my jaw has dropped open.

“What the hell!” I whisper as I touch a few strands of my hair.

What’s going on?

No! This can’t be.

I open and close my eyes a few times, even though I know that my reflection will not have changed.

I swallow thickly. My hair has gone from snowy white to a bright fiery red. My icy blue eyes are now a warm golden color.

“No!” I whisper. “It can’t be.” I reach out my hand and touch my reflection. Then I hold out my hands, looking down at them. I touch my chest.

I am a winter witch. The few of us in existence all have snow-white hair and ice-blue eyes. There is no exception…ever. Not only do I look different, but I feel different. I feel changed. I turn my hands palm-down and then back again. I feel the magic inside me, but it isn’t mine.

It’s changed.

It’s all wrong.

So very wrong.

I put a hand over my mouth. This is a disaster. The others need me. Without me, they will falter.