"She was brave because she had nothing to lose."

"You and I are the same even if you cannot see it." Pitch releases me. He folds his hands behind his back. "We are both haunted by a prophecy."

I frown. He can't possible understand me. But as the King of Nightmares, perhaps he does understand fear. "Do prophecies always come true?"

"What do you think 'prophecy' means?" Pitch walks away from me, his boots clicking across the smooth floor. "It is a dangerous thing to glimpse the future, for it is never good."

"But the future can be changed." Desperation shades my words.

"If only that were true." He lifts his head. "But you did not come here to speak with me. You wish to talk to the woman in the tower."

"I-what?" I clasp my gloved hands to in front of me. "How did you know that?"

Pitch does not respond. He merely raises an eyebrow.

I sigh. "Of course you know. Is she here?"

"She is." Pitch walks over to the window. He stands with his back toward me.

I take a step forward. "Who is she really?"

"She is as old as she looks and not as innocent as she may appear. I know why you want to see her." Pitch turns his head from the window. "You want to get rid of your powers."

"I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want the prophecy to come true!"

Pitch sighs. He lifts his shoulders. "Destiny is not so easily avoided. I knew all along that those you love would not accept you for who you are."

"They did accept me and forgive me. But I would rather lose myself than risk their lives."

Pitch's abrupt, loud laughter throws my thoughts off balance. He stalks toward me and drops into a mocking bow. "Well said, little Snow Queen! Bravo! You-the most powerful queen Arendelle has ever seen-are willing to give up all that makes you important."

I glare at him. "I am sure that you could never understand the meaning of sacrifice." I lift my hands, ready to use them for the last time. "Show me where she is, or you will wish that I had already lost my power."

Pitch rubs his chin. "You disappoint me, Elsa. I gave you too much credit." He shrugs. "I guess I was wrong. You clearly aren't as strong as I thought."

"What are you talking about?" Doesn't he know that I have complete control over my powers now?

"Do you recall our agreement? You promised that you would bring Jack Frost to me before the month was over." Pitch points at the window. "Oh, look at that. The sun is rising! Your time is up."

"You never told me why you needed him."

"That doesn't matter. You broke your promise." Pitch closes the distance between us. His eyes are ablaze with fury. He locks his hand around my wrist. "You promised, Elsa. You promised!"

He shakes my arm. I cry out as pain pulses through me.

"And a queen always keeps her promises." Pitch growls, throwing my own words back at me.

I wrench my arm from his grip. Ice burns through my veins. "You are forgetting one important thing...I am no longer a queen." Ice blasts from my fingers.

Pitch jerks away from me.

My ice spins after him. Logic flees me. The tangle of emotions spiral from me until I can no longer see straight.

I don't just want to get past Pitch. I want to destroy him.

I might as well use my power for something good before I give it up. Anger pours through me and all I see is red.

My ice rips through the room. Pitch disappears. I know that he is hiding in the shadows again, like the coward that he is.

"You cannot defeat me." His voice echoes through the darkness. "There will always be darkness in this world. There will always be fear."

"I no longer fear you." I scream. I lower my hands. I turn and take in the room. What have I done?

Horror seizes my heart. Large spikes of ice splinter the walls. What would Anna think? I almost destroyed my own ice castle!

I still can't see him, but I can hear him. Pitch asks, "What is a nightmare, Elsa?"

He's never called me Elsa before. At least I don't think he has.

I sink to my knees. I want to curl into a ball and disappear.

My beautiful ball gown folds around my legs. I bow my head and cover my face with my hands.

Five cold, slender fingers tighten on my shoulder. "What is a nightmare, Elsa?"

I shiver, but don't look up. "A nightmare is a bad dream."

"But what could be bad about a dream?"

I shake my head, unable to answer.

His fingers release my shoulder. "Fear. You know that the dream isn't real, but it still scares you."

"I am not scared of you." My words no longer sound true. They sound broken, like my heart is.

"I am the King of Nightmares. I know fear when I see it. And there is so much fear inside you."