The warriors were looking around cautiously. The feeling of a terrible, hostile force was following them.
"I can smell evil winter sorcery," the Frost Wail said. "It is coming directly from over there."
He pointed with a hand with blue-veined branches toward the estate on the hill. Just at that moment, as if in response to his words, the red light in the building's windows flickered several times, and several projectiles immediately flew from there. They sliced through the darkness of the night in white flashes.
Two white, translucent arrows stood frozen in the Frost Wail's body. Their alien design evoked a dizzying sense of anxiety and depression.
Several more white bolts of lightning exploded in bright flashes against invisible shields raised by the Light-Haired Cursed and the Evil Eye. Their fragments crashed down into the snow.
"Ice Arrows," the Frost Wail howled, pulling them out of his body and throwing them farther away to the side. "He is firing them from the estate."
"The Ice Prince of Cold is attacking," a cold female voice sounded in the Cursed's head. Where it came from was unknown. It was not the voice of the All-Seeing. Rather, it reminded him of one terrifying enemy.
"Hide behind the trees," the Cursed said.
Everyone obeyed his order, taking cover behind massive ancient trunks and keeping them between themselves and the ominous estate. The second swarm of Ice Arrows struck the trees. They pierced the black ancient trunks, and for a moment some of the squad thought that a long-forgotten enchanted song of pain had swept over the forest. A third swarm of arrows came from other directions, even though the estate had not changed its position.
Red blood splashed onto the snow. The Light-Haired staggered. The Cursed darted forward at vampire speed, and when she fell, she landed in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Reaper rising somewhere behind the trees. Arrows protruded from his body, and his wounds were bleeding.
"He is strong. He pierced my defenses..." she said. Blood spilled from her mouth.
He shielded her with his own body. Several Ice Arrows pierced his back. The Cursed bared his teeth. He felt no pain. The vampire's power dulled it. One of the arrows pierced his armor at the exact spot where the Blue Crystal was located, which had hidden him from the Ice Queen's sight. The Cursed checked it with his hand and saw crystal fragments spilling out of the armor compartment. The Blue Crystal was destroyed.
He beckoned to the Evil Eye. Of the entire squad, only the Light-Haired and he could create force shields. The Evil Eye approached. His shields came within range and covered the Cursed and the Light-Haired. The Cursed carried the girl to the trunk of a tree. She sat there, breathing rapidly. She could not stand. The arrows came out of the Cursed's body and fell to the ground.
"I'm storming the building. Cover me," he said.
He immediately broke into a run and raced toward the hill where the estate stood.
At first, he ran lightly, without creating his sword. A blizzard appeared ahead of him. It kept moving several paces in front of him. The Frost Wail had created it to protect the Cursed.
A new swarm of arrows flew in. The blizzard deflected some of them to the sides, while the Cursed dodged the rest at vampire speed.
When the arrows had passed, he broke into a run again at vampire speed. But after some time, he stopped.
The estate was enchanted. It did not draw any closer. No matter how much he moved toward it, all of it was a futile effort.
The squad was nearby. He had barely moved forward, although by his internal calculations he had run about half a mile.
The Cloakroom Attendant stepped forward. Tall and thin, wearing a black hat and a long black coat, with black clawed hands.
"My turn, Cursed. Let me try."
He nodded to the Evil Eye. The latter unfastened one of the dolls attached to his uniform and lifted the black bandage from his left eye. Beneath it was a black, bottomless hole instead of an eye. Or was that his real eye?
He brought the doll close to the black hole, stared intently at it, and remained motionless for a while. The doll was a girl with light hair. A black stream poured from the eye and crashed down upon the girl. Her hair turned black, her skin withered. She became a terrible messenger of black sorcery. A curse that will haunt the enemy in their personal nightmares. The Evil Eye pulled the bandage back into place.
Then he handed the cursed doll to the Cloakroom Attendant. He took it and leaped toward the nearest tree. And disappeared. Behind the tree where he vanished, a ghostly shadow flashed toward the next tree. From there, to the next. The shadows were moving in the direction of the estate.
"The Cloakroom Attendant has the ability to move through wardrobes," said the Evil Eye, watching the shadow's movement. "Or through trees. Or through other enclosed multiple spaces. This is a different kind of movement governed by different laws of metaphysics. And perhaps he has a chance of reaching his destination."
"And what next?" asked the Cursed. He was also watching the shadow. They both saw perfectly well in the darkness. As did everyone in the squad.
"He will put the cursed doll there. And the house will become cursed. Its owner will not be able to stay there for long. He will have to come out. To lift the curse, he will have to kill me. So he will come here."
At that moment, a low rumble sounded in the estate, and streams of black smoke poured from its windows in different directions.
"He did it, and the curse has begun to take effect," said the Evil Eye.
Suddenly, everyone sensed a grim atmosphere. A scorching cold that had come from the other side. They turned around.
On the hill on the other side stood a figure. White hair, skin, and armor. Blue burning lights where the eyes should have been. An evil and arrogant expression on its face. The figure from the portrait they had seen in the castle.
A new deadly swarm of arrows flew from its direction.
But the Cursed, the Evil Eye, the Light-Haired, the Reaper, the Spellcaster, and the Frost Wail were no longer in their old positions. The Ice Arrows struck the trees and the snow-covered ground.
The Cursed appeared directly behind the terrifying white warrior and struck with the Frost Sword. Because now he knew who it was. The Prince of Cold, as the mysterious, strangely familiar female voice had told him.
A blue stream of cold knocked his strike aside, deflecting it like a hurricane wind. For a moment, he saw before him the cold lights of the icy creature's eyes and the sinister smile with sharp teeth. Then a blue stream of cold crashed down upon him. He blocked it with the sword he had created, and it shattered into pieces. He blocked it with the Frost Blade. Then with the spatial spell. It was swept away. With the spell of black demonic streams. They were dispersed. He began summoning hands, but they were destroyed. The Temple's energy protection shielded him. And only the Frost Blade could block the attacks. But he could not reach the icy horror. Vampire speed could not overcome the enemy's speed. The cold lights of its eyes grew brighter and brighter. Its sharp teeth lengthened. With another strike, it knocked the Cursed down onto one knee. It drew back its arm for a second blow, intending to inflict a mortal wound.
And at that moment, his blue stream of cold collided with a twisting, translucent artifact blade. An arcane weapon. Held in the hands of a woman of icy, unattainable beauty. A crystal crown with sharp points rested on her head. Long, light-colored hair. Light white armor. Long white boots reaching to her knees. Her eyes burned with no less blue light than those of the icy horror.
"Not so fast, brother," she said in a familiar voice and smiled with blue lips.
The Ice Queen.
"What are you doing, sister?!" The icy horror's face twisted beyond recognition.
"What do you think? I'm letting the Cursed defeat you."
"Damn you!.."
Again, blue cold crashed downward, but the sword, its blade bending like a wave, once again blocked its path.
"You have already used your Curse. And you have no more of it."
The Prince of Cold screamed in helplessness.
The ice cracked all around, and snow fell from the trees within a radius of about 1,000 feet.
Then his scream abruptly stopped. When he looked down in surprise, he saw that his body had been pierced through by the Frost Sword. The Cursed was holding the blade. He raised his head and stared at the one who had killed him. The Cursed gave him a grim wink with one eye. Then he pulled out the sword, and the Prince of Cold shattered into icy fragments.