Frozen Beauty

Freya liked the pond best after midnight. By day, it was only water, wide, blue, and ringed with reeds that whispered whenever the wind came down from the hills. By night, it became a second sky. Every star above appeared again below, shimmering between lily pads and the insects that stayed were like shooting stars. The moon hid behind a veil of clouds, leaving the stars to rule the dark sky. Freya crouched at the pond’s edge, folding her black wings close against her orange-speckled sides. Her talons sank lightly into the mud. She was small beside the dragon who rested near her, though small was not a word most creatures would have dared use for her.

Anomaly lay along the bank like a red and black fallen bridge, twice her size from beaked head to trailing tail. His pale skull-like faces tilted toward the water. His eyes glowed softly, four strange lights reflected in the pond. Nothing else about him glowed. Not his scales, not his markings, not the heavy claws curled near the reeds. Only his eyes, bright and watchful. His beaks clicked together. Clack.

Freya glanced at him. “You like it?”

Anomaly blinked slowly, or what might have been a blink, the light in his eyes disappeared briefly before reappearing. His right beak shifted, then tapped against the left one twice.

Clack. clack.

“I’ll take that as yes.”

He understood her perfectly. Freya knew that. Anomaly understood everyone, perhaps better than most speaking dragons did. He simply chose quiet more often than words. Sometimes he clacked, sometimes he rumbled, and sometimes, very rarely, he spoke in a voice so soft and careful that it made even the wind seem too loud. Tonight, he only watched the stars in the pond.

Freya smiled to herself. She was friendly by nature, quick to laugh and quicker to offer help, but she had a serious streak too. She knew when a moment needed gentleness. She also knew when it needed something memorable. “I want to show you something,” she said. Anomaly’s glowing eyes slid toward her. Clack?

Freya rose and stepped into the shallow water. Ripples spread around her ankles, breaking the reflected stars into trembling shards. The pond was cold already, fed by the sunless sky, but she lowered her head and breathed carefully over the surface.

Not fire… no… something colder.

A pale layer of ice formed where her breath touched the water. It spread outward in a neat circle, thin at first, then thicker, smooth as polished glass. The ripples froze in place. One by one, the reflected stars seemed to sharpen, trapped beneath the clear surface as if Freya had caught pieces of the night and laid them at Anomaly’s feet.

She moved slowly, seriously, guiding the freeze so it would not harm the roots, fish, or frogs sleeping below. Ice crept across the pond in delicate patterns, curling around reeds and lily pads, stopping just before the far bank. When Freya stepped back, the entire pond had become a pale mirror of ice. Anomaly stared.

His beaks parted.

Clack.

Then again, softer.

Clack clack clack?

Freya tucked her wings with a pleased little huff. “Impressed?”

For a long moment, Anomaly did not answer. His glowing eyes reflected in the frozen pond beside the stars, four bright points among hundreds. Then he lowered his huge head until his beaks nearly touched the ice. Very gently, he tapped it. clack. The sound rang across the surface like a tiny bell and Freya laughed. “Careful. You’re heavier than you think.”

Anomaly looked at her, then at one massive foreclaw, then back at the ice. His beaks clicked in a pattern that sounded suspiciously like agreement. Freya sat beside him again, any other dragon might have been a problem but her sharp scales did no harm to the constantly melting dragon. “I only froze the top. The pond is still alive underneath.”

Anomaly’s eyes softened. He leaned down until his head rested near hers. For once, he spoke. “Pretty.” The word was rough, small, and warm.

Freya went very still, then smiled. “Thank you.”