“Give me your hand.”

For a moment, the young girl suspected the swirling wind played tricks on her ears; the mountain had a reputation for such things.

“Give me your hand!” commanded a voice from the storm. 

The girl’s fingers were so numb, and she was so scared. The thought of releasing her grip on the roots she clung to terrified her. She pressed her face against the freezing rock, her lank, blonde hair plastered over her eyes and prayed it all a dream. 

“Please, I can help you,” came the voice, softer this time.

And like a snowdrop unfurling, she reached, and grasped, and hoped, but felt nothing.

The wind tore at the girl’s flapping jacket, the clasps dislodged by its swirling force. The amassed snowflakes weighed heavily on her arms and tired eyelids. But Crystal was nothing if not stubborn and she refused to fall, would not fall. With the last of her energy, she stretched for all she was worth, her other gloved hand gripping with equal determination. The last thing she felt before the cold took her to that place the lost and lonely souls of the mountains dreaded was fingers interlocking with her own. After that, she knew only darkness.

Crystal woke to sensation, something she’d lost for the longest time in the midst of those most inhospitable peaks. She twiddled her fingers about just to be sure; they cooperated, much to her relief. And like the long-lost dawn cresting the horizon, she opened her bleary eyes to golden, flickering flames.

“Ah, you’re awake,” came a voice from nowhere.

Crystal tried to lift her head but couldn’t. 

“Here, let me help you, little girl,” the voice suggested.

“I’m not little,” she replied, but allowed the hand to slide behind her neck and gently coax her forward. 

“You’re lucky I found you when I did, little girl,” came the voice, which sounded no older than her own did.

“My name is Crystal, not little girl. And I was managing quite well on my own, thank you very much,” she huffed.

“Were you now? If the fall hadn’t killed you, then the Wendigos would have.”

“There aren’t such things,” replied Crystal, as she turned to her tormentor-come-savior.

“There sure are. We’re in one of their caves right now,” said the blue-eyed boy. He removed his arm from Crystal’s neck and stuck out a grubby hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m not shaking that. It’s dirty!”

“Begging your pardon, your majesty,” he laughed, wiping at his fur-coated form and trying again.

“I suppose I should thank you even if I would have managed very well on my own and even if you are a naughty fibber.” Crystal took the proffered hand, and shook it, then released it as though it stung.

“The only thing that’s keeping you safe at this very moment is the same thing that prevents me from proving what I’m telling you.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fire.” 

No sooner had the boy spoken the words than a wail of such frightening volume fractured the crackling peace of the cave. Crystal almost jumped into the nearby flames; the boy just narrowed his eyes.

“Then again, maybe that does prove it,” he said, flicking his long, dark hair from his face. “Peter,” he said, as if it was the answer to all things.

“I don’t like that sound,” Crystal shuddered.

“Don’t worry, the Wendigos are more scared of fire than anything else in the whole wide world. You’re safe whilst you’re with me. There’s no need to be scared.

“I’m not scared of anything. I just think they’re very loud, that’s all.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Muahahaha!” growled Peter at the top of his voice, pulling a snarling face.

Crystal didn’t move an inch. She stared at Peter unblinking, as though he were mad.

“Hmm, tough cookie, eh?”

“Where are we, Peter?” Crystal asked, ignoring his antics.

“I told you, the Wendigos’ lair.”

“And I told you, there aren’t such things.”

“Here, I’ll prove it,” said Peter, offering her his hand. 

Crystal gave him an indignant look but allowed herself to be helped to her feet. Peter drew her towards the raging fire that crackled and spat ruby embers against a granite wall. Crystal followed the curvature of the wall over her head and down the other side.

“Wendigo drawings.” Peter allowed his finger to trace the outlines of creatures best left to the imagination.

“Wendigos can’t draw,” Crystal snapped, staring at the scrawled images.

“A moment ago, you said they didn’t even exist and now you’re an expert on them.”

“It’s a well-known fact where I come from.”

“And where’s that?”

Crystal did not reply.

“Why are girls always so difficult?” Peter shook his head for dramatic emphasis.

“I am not difficult. And even if I was to believe you, anyone could have made those drawings. Probably a boy,” she added. “After all, they aren’t very good.”

Peter was about to take the bait when he detected the faintest upturning of Crystal’s blue lips. The quivering tremor became a smile that spread to a grin and then a laugh of such joviality that Peter couldn’t help but join in. Soon, the two staggered around in near hysterics. That was when Crystal, head bowed and eyes to the floor, saw the strangest little drawing of all.

“The Gemini crystals!” she gasped.

“What?” Peter hissed, his laughter coming to an immediate halt.

“There,” pointed Crystal, as if her finger explained all.

Peter followed her digit’s indication to the ground, which he abruptly dropped to and studied. Crystal sensed a change in him, something important taking place, and remained silent. Peter blew the floor clear of dust and debris and examined every detail of the image.

“Two snowflakes interlocked, the same, but different, housed in a necklace of polished silver,” Crystal chanted. “Trapped in a sapphire prison for all eternity. I told you it was them.”

Peter slowly got to his feet. He took a pace towards Crystal and flung his arms about her waist, lifting her into the air. 

“You’ve done it. You’ve done it!” he shouted. “All this time, all these caves, and I never once thought to look to the ground.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Crystal asked, prying herself free of his embrace.

“I’ve spent three months looking for that. I’d just about given up. I was packed and ready to leave. That’s when I heard your shouting through the snowstorm. Look,” he said, pointing to two backpacks overloaded with pots, pans, and all sorts of wilderness gear. “You must have been looking for it, too?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Come on! Nobody comes up here unless they’re looking for answers to the myth.”

“I did.”

“Oh, yeah, what else were you doing, running away?” 

The tears in Crystal’s eyes were all the reply Peter needed. Seeing her contained despair, he picked up a backpack, shoved his hand deep inside and withdrew something wrapped in a monogrammed handkerchief. “Here you are,” he said in a gentle voice. “It’s my last piece. I’d been saving it for a special occasion, but I’d like you to have it.” He unraveled his gift and passed it to her.

Crystal tried not to look too desperate, but the sight of chocolate made her eyes widen and her lips dry. In less than a few seconds, she’d shoveled it all into her mouth and was chewing like a sheep. “Thank you,” she eventually said, wiping her lips with the back of her sleeve.

“You’re welcome,” Peter replied. “Did they hurt you?” he asked after giving Crystal a chance to clean up.

She nodded. “My father. How did you guess?”

“You can tell when a kid’s got terrible parents. It’s all in the eyes. Plus, there’s no other reason in the world that somebody would dare to hike into the badlands. How did you make it through the haunted forest?”

“Running, mostly.”

“I know that feeling,” Peter chuckled. “The Wendigos were watching me even then. Godforsaken creatures!” he shouted, in a sudden outburst of venom, shaking his fist into the distant snows and swirling winds.

“So why are you here?” Crystal asked, sitting back down on a rock and warming her hands against the fire.

“I’m looking for the Gemini crystals, of course.”

“All on your own?”

“I am now.”

Crystal looked at Peter, his head downcast, then back to the two backpacks. “I’m sorry, Peter. Really, I am. The Wendigos?”

“One of them jumped us on a ledge between the mountaintops. Papa didn’t have a chance. I just ran. When I went back, all that was left was his backpack and crimson snow...” Peter’s voice trailed off as his fists clenched and unclenched. “They’re evil, you know. All they do is kill. They’ll protect those crystals until their last fetid breaths. They want them more than anything else in the world. Well, almost. But now I know where they keep them.” Peter’s eyes outshone the fire they reflected.

“Here,” said Crystal.

“Down there.” Peter pointed into the depths of the cave. “I didn’t know where to start, but I do now.”

“Well, let's get going,” Crystal said, collecting a backpack and heaving it over her shoulders.

“You can’t come, you’re a...”

“Girl,” Crystal finished. “I made it all the way up here even though half the village was after me, all the creatures of the haunted forest, and never mind your hated Wendigos.”

“Well, I suppose if you put it like that.”

“I’m coming, and you can’t stop me,” Crystal replied defiantly, her hands on her hips.

“Fair enough,” Peter snorted, picking up the spare bag. 

“You give up easy.” Crystal giggled.

“Not really. I can only carry two torches at best. You’ve just doubled our light time. I was always good at maths.” He winked.

“Rargghhh!”

A roar of such anger echoed around the cave that the two new friends had to cover their ears. 

“You think they know?” Crystal asked once the last of the ricocheting growls vanished into the night. 

“Do you really need to ask?” Peter replied, handing her two lit branches with cloth wrapped around one end to help with grip.

Crystal didn’t answer. She just marched after the fast diminishing figure of Peter. A second tumultuous bellow followed them all the way into the mountain.

The cave tunneled ever on as the two children pushed further into the guts of the mountain. Their descent wasn’t difficult. The whole passageway seemed made to be explored, or just made full stop. The gouged slashes in the sparkling granite walls gave clues as to whom those makers were. The children chose to ignore them. 

Onwards and onwards, the two pressed, led only by the flickering torchlight until, just as it had become their most dependable companion, it was extinguished.

“Don’t move, Crystal,” Peter ordered, in a tone of surprising authority.

“What, what is it?” Crystal got no response. She peered into the darkness but did as she was bade, her feet locked in position. Her hair streamed about her in a sudden, rasping breeze, her legs feeling the chill of a bitter, arctic blast.

“Hold on, almost got it,” Peter said from the enforced darkness. “Whatever you do, don’t move.”

“I won’t,” Crystal replied, trying to keep the fear from her voice. Her ears, the only part of her that still worked, groomed the night for sound.

“Always carry my flints,” he said.

“I’m very glad you do.”

“Want to sit down and have a bite to eat?” the boy asked.

“I think we best,” Crystal said, backing away against the rock wall.

The two sat together, Peter swinging his legs over the abyss. One look at Crystal’s aghast face and he drew them back to him. 

“I hope you like salted beef because it’s all I’ve got left.”

“Definitely,” Crystal exhaled, taking the proffered parcel of meat from her companion.

“So, how old are you?” asked Peter, breaking the silence.

“Twelve,” replied Crystal, kicking at a split in the ground.

“Really, me too,” Peter chuckled, throwing a stone over the path's edge. The small piece of rock made no sound as it swept into the obsidian depths.

“How deep do you think it is?” Crystal asked.

“Don’t know. Deep though.”

“I think it must go all the way to Hell.”

“Don’t say that,” Peter hissed.

“Why?” a snapped reply.

“Best not to talk about such things with the Wendigos at our backs.”

“They don’t know where we went,” Crystal stated.

Peter put his fingers to his lips and lent over her with the lantern. The pairs of twinned lights shining from the abyss could have been stars—if the two were outside, that was. But they weren’t, and stars didn’t blink in tandem. Crystal shivered and reached out to take Peter’s free hand.

“Don’t worry,” the boy said. “They won’t come near us whilst we still have this, and we can always relight the torches when the winds drop. So whatever you do, don’t leave them behind,” he added in his most commanding voice.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Crystal took the deepest breath she ever had in her whole life. “Thank you, Peter.”

“For what?”

“For saving my life and looking after me.”

“You’d have done the same,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “I know you would,” he smiled. “Anyway, how do you know about the crystals? You never said anything about them.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Didn’t I? That doesn’t sound like me. I’m very protective when it comes to the legends of the twinned snowflakes.”

“Why?” Crystal asked, taking a big bite of the beef and screwing up her face at all the salt.

“Because I want to be the one that saves us from this never-ending winter. I do now, anyway.”

“How do you mean?”

“I was like you. I didn’t believe the legends. Fairytales were just there to scare children into doing what their parents wanted them to, or so I thought. I just followed Papa. He was so convinced.”

“And right,” Crystal added.

“Unfortunately.”

“So you really think the Gemini crystals will stop this endless winter and bring back the sun?”

“You’ve got to believe in something. Papa said that once the crystals were found, the two as one, and taken out into the open, that the snows would cease and the sun would return.”

“And flowers,” Crystal chimed.

“And everything — flowers, animals, joy. Everything that went missing when the Wendigos first appeared."

“And you think it will happen just like that? Like magic?” she added.

“I do. I believe it with all my heart,” Peter said, touching his chest.

“I do, too,” said Crystal, getting back to her feet and turning away from the abyss.

“Why?” 

“Because you do,” she replied, snatching the lantern and moving off into the shimmering darkness.

The ledge the children stood upon was in a poor state of disrepair. The two placed every footstep with care, every stride tempered by caution, but the new friends made good progress down the ever-steepening pathway. Peter held onto the straps of Crystal’s backpack and allowed himself to be led. It reminded him of times with his papa and how they’d navigated the terrors of the haunted forest and the Wendigo infested mountains. The thoughts increased his respect for her as, in truth, he’d been terrified. If not for his papa’s presence, Peter knew he would never have left their home on such an adventure, regardless of the stakes. That Crystal had done so alone was almost beyond comprehension. And, he swore in those moments, that those who’d scared her into doing so would one day pay. If they ever got out of the mountain alive, that was.

When the two rounded a bend in the rock wall and stood before the glittering rainbow expanse of an internal universe, all they could do was gasp.

“It’s beautiful,” Crystal whispered. “So exquisite.”

“Just kinds of quartz,” Peter replied, in a very adult way. But when the girl glanced at him, his wide-eyes and open mouth suggested differently. 

One last turn in the path and the two children found themselves stood on level ground, surrounded by the glittering lights of infinity.

“Do you think we’ve reached the bottom?” Crystal pondered.

“Can’t have. It took Papa and me almost a week to gain the height that I found you at.

“Hm, only took me four days.”

“Really?” said Peter, playfully punching her arm. “Either way, we can’t have been walking for more than two hours. The candle in the lantern’s still half full. Good job too, because it’s my last one,” Peter grimaced.

“I wish you hadn’t told me that,” replied Crystal, as the distant roars of those who pursued them rattled around the higher echelons of the cave system.

“Come on,” Peter said in determined fashion. “Lets press on.”

The children soon found themselves in a cavern so massive they could have stood twenty feet apart and still had room to spare. As they marched away from the bottom of what they realized had been a staircase of sorts, the world sparkled about them like stars—even more so when Peter covered the light. But he made a point of only doing that once; the sudden roaring from above guaranteed that.

Occasionally, the children pointed out this scratch in the ground or that dollop of bluish paint on a rock. However, it wasn’t until Crystal held up the torch to a very definite impression on the rock face that they knew their way was correct.

“How did they do it?” Peter.

“Do what?”

“These pictures. I really want to know. It just seems crazy that monsters could draw such things.”

“They were men once,” came Peter’s flat reply.

“Actual men!”

“Papa said that the evil men, the bad men, were banished from the people’s lands. Expunged, I think he called it.”

“Not completely.”

“No, not as it turned out.” Peter attempted to grin, but his face didn’t want to cooperate. “The legends told that the men made a deal with the devil. He granted the gift of hair to keep them warm, white as snow to hide them. The devil gave them strength and cunning, teeth to bite and talons to strike, but couldn’t protect them from fire, the one thing that would protect those they despised.”

“Us.”

“Yup,” Peter nodded. “The legends said that only sunlight would dispel them. It’s said that the Wendigos found the key to the magic of the snow, two identical flakes, as seen in a mirror, interlinked and glistening with sorcery. The devil told them to hide them, and to guard them with their lives. That was when the snows started and the devil’s true scheme stood revealed. He wished the world was covered in an icy white death. One to extinguish all of mankind’s flames. I think we all know the rest.”

“When the world froze, the Wendigos’ master, the devil, would return.”

“Thanks, I was trying to forget that part.”

“Don’t worry, Peter, we’ll find the necklace. I know we will. This,” Crystal said, pointing at the blue and white drawing, “this is proof we will,” she reassured him. “Are you even listening?” 

“Shh!” her companion shushed. 

“I will not!”

“Shh, I’m listening.”

“To what?”

Peter just rolled his eyes and put a finger to his lips. “Do you hear it?”

“What?”

“Water. I can hear running water. Come on,” he said, snatching at Crystal’s sleeve and dragging her after him.

The only thing Crystal could think of was that Peter must have had amazing hearing, or gone mad with claustrophobia, because they stumbled on and on without success. But just when she was about to give in, curl up and fall asleep, Peter skidded to a stop. Crystal almost wished she did sleep when she saw why.

There before them was a river, and guarding it, a Wendigo bigger than anything she could ever have imagined. 

The creature appeared undisturbed by the light from their small lantern. The Wendigo, ten-feet tall and covered from head to toe in thick, white fur, snarled a wicked grin. Jagged teeth poked out from a vicious mouth as it observed them. If not for the rusting iron fashioned into some sort of makeshift crown, she would have thought it inhuman. Hung around its apelike form, the beast’s necklace of blue translucence bore something white and small at its core: the Gemini crystals. 

In that moment in time, Crystal knew just what to do. Or she would have, if the candle in the lantern hadn’t spluttered its final, flickering flame. The children’s world turned to darkest night, and both feared.

Crystal didn’t have time to react, as she felt herself shoved to the floor and heard Peter scream. The glittering quartz of the cavern lit the scene with an ethereal, white light, strong enough to see Peter dive through the Wendigo king’s legs, just stopping himself from falling into the underground river beyond it. 

“Pick it up! Take it!” Peter bellowed. “Get out of here, Crystal!” 

The Wendigo flailed its arms and gnashed its teeth, but it couldn’t reach the boy on its back.

Whether it was Peter’s calls that shook Crystal awake or the roaring of the Wendigo’s fast approaching brethren, she didn’t know. But the girl was on her feet, the necklace shoved deep into her pocket, and then launching herself at the guardian of the sapphire necklace. 

Crystal had never harmed another creature, not even a fly, but she kicked the Wendigo’s leg with every ounce of strength in her small body. The creature spun to her in pain, dislodging Peter, who crashed into the water. Crystal dived straight in after him. 

That was the last the two would see of the Wendigos, the glittering caves, and each other, for a very long time.

“Crystal. Crystal, can you hear me?” 

The voice was deep, yet somehow familiar.

“Open your eyes,” it implored. “Open your eyes and see.”

And she did. And she could. And it was beautiful.

The world was one of color, not white. Flowers of every pigment blazed amongst emerald grasses. Trees of cherry blossom and horse chestnuts bursting at their seams stood all about her, as did people and a face she recognized, yet didn’t.

Crystal dragged herself to a sitting position and reached into her pocket. The necklace was gone. She rummaged around in desperation, but her hands emerged empty.

“Do not worry, Crystal.” The voice held a tone of depth and distinguished notes.

“Peter!” she shouted, and flung her arms about him before stepping back, shocked. “But you can’t be? You’re older? A lot older?”

“As are you,” said the man in the golden crown. He helped Crystal to the waters of a nearby river and bade her look.

The face that gazed back up into Crystal’s own was hers, but not. She had aged twenty years, maybe more? “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“My father was the king of these lands. I think I forgot to mention that,” King Peter beamed that same sweet smile of old. “It took us longer to escape those mountains than I expect either of us could ever have imagined. But we did, Crystal, and here we are.”

“Everything’s so beautiful,” she said. “But I lost the necklace. This can’t be real.” She shook her head as if to clear it of her strange but beautiful dream.

“It was never the necklace. I was only certain of this once we made it back. The Wendigos started the myth to put fear in the hearts of men. It worked, too. But the love of two children, who would sacrifice themselves for each other, broke the devil’s spell and, with it, the winter that bound us all. You and I did it, Crystal. I think Papa understood, but he didn’t know where else to look, who to search for. It was lucky that I found you all those years ago on the edge of that cliff. And saved your life,” King Peter chuckled.

“Harrumph, to that. I could have gotten out of it.”

“I’m joking! Anyway, you should address me as Your Majesty. It doesn’t look good before all the people of the kingdom to be so cheeky.”

Only then did Crystal realize they were not alone. Hundreds of thousands of people were there, all on bended knee.

“We are the two who are one, Crystal, and I think we can do great things together. Would you join me in rebuilding this kingdom?” He smiled. “I can think of no better partner for all the adventures ahead.”

“Adventures you say?” Crystal smiled back. “Count me in.”