A scream rips from my lips. I fall onto the ground, my head bouncing against the floor.

Colors and lights swim before my eyes. Time slows. Jack's mouth is open, but I cannot hear him scream my name. He runs into the room, but slowly, as if he is walking through water.

Anna runs to my side. What is she doing here? Did she follow Jack? She kneels beside me. Her lips move, but I can't hear her words over the blood rushing through my brain.

Pain tears through me. I feel like my very soul is tearing apart. Ice pulls away from my veins. Tiny blue flickers of ice float up from my skin.

The boy with white hair-what was his name?-wraps his arms around Anna. He drags her away from me.

For some reason this fills me with sadness. But I can't think beyond my pain.

It hurts, it hurts so much! My skull pounds with every breath I take. Particles of ice continue to rip away from my skin. They float into the air and encircle the blood-tinged needle.

What happened to...to the old woman? Through my haze of pain and confusion, I see her.

She no longer sits on her chair. Instead she stands over her spinning wheel. Her gray hair streams around her wrinkled face. Her overly large eyes fix upon the gleaming needle.

She no longer seems as frail and breakable.

A tall, dark man steps out of a shadowy corner. His grin is dark. He nods at the old woman. He crouches next to my motionless figure

I want to get away from him, but I cannot move. The pain has not subsided, it has increased. I can barely think.

The man-I know him, but his name escapes me-holds a gray hand over my face. Blue ice dances between his open fingers.

Suddenly, a wooden staff knocks him away from me. The white-haired boy stands over me, his staff clenched in his hand.

Why is he protecting me? Who is he? I just know that he is important. His name is just beyond my reach.

If I concentrate, I will be able to remember who he is. I try to focus, but another wave of pain burns through me.

The corners of my vision darkens. At last, a tear works its way out of my eye. The tiny teardrop slips unheeded down my cheek.

The man easily pushes the boy aside. The boy falls to the ground next to me. He tries to stand, but collapses instead.

The dark man picks up the fallen staff. His greedy hands skim over the curved wood.

The blue ice finally stops ripping from my skin. The sharp pain eases, but only enough for me to remember.

The pieces of ice flows into the needle. The needle flickers with blue light. Gothel holds out her hand. Her wide, half-crazed eyes do not look away from the needle.

I want to call out to her, I want to stop her-what is she thinking? Didn't she see what that needle just did to me?

Gothel presses her finger onto the needle. She doesn't fall down like I did. Instead the particles of blue light flow around her once before disappearing.

She straightens her shoulder and seems to gain a foot in height. Her wrinkles smooth. Her clumpy gray hair turns black. Color tints her cheeks and ignites her eyes. Her lips darken with red.

Her rags transform into a deep red gown.

She is young and beautiful and terrifying.

**

She reaches down and picks up my discarded gloves. With a grim smile, she slips them over her soft white hands.

She flexes her fingers. "At last."

They are the first words I have heard since I pricked my finger.

Immediately sounds burst into my mind. Jack whispers my name over and over again, as if he is breaking apart and my name is the only thing holding him together. Pitch chuckles quietly. Anna cries on Kristoff's shoulder. I didn't even see Kristoff enter the room.

I hear my heart beating slow and steady inside my chest. My hands tremble against the cold ground.

"Thank you, Elsa." Gothel smiles down at me. She lifts her gloved hands. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Done what?

I roll onto my side and try to push myself up. But my arms wobble beneath me. I have no strength at all.

Pitch nods. "Well done, Gothel." He hands her the staff and looks down at me. "Are you surprised, little queen? Did you think that she was some sort of prisoner of mine? The nightmare army was a distraction, a way for your powers to reach their climax. Everything worked perfectly since the curse could only work on the longest day of summer. I made sure that Rapunzel's letter did not reach you until it was time. I knew all along that you would come here. I told you, Gothel."

Gothel's wide green eyes skim over the dark man beside her. "Yes." She drawls out the word. "You did."

I don't understand. She was working for Pitch all along? Was this his plan from the start? I lift my hand and point weakly at the King of Nightmares. "You." My voice rasps in my throat. "You did this."

"Actually I did it." Gothel glances at Pitch with disgust. "Pitch-and Jack and you-were only a means to an end."

Pitch frowns at her. "What? No, we had a deal. You told me-"

She rolls her eyes and flicks her hand at him. Ice streams from her fingers and wraps around his throat. "You see, Pitch...Elsa was never the Snow Queen."

She lifts Pitch into the air. He strains against the ice, but it is useless.

"The prophecies weren't about you, Elsa." With a flick of her wrist, she throws Pitch across the room. He slams against the wall and slides to the floor. The tall, pale woman looks down at me, her gloved hands still raised. "They were about me."