A few days passed, and they hadn't yet arrived. Simina was sure it had been at least three days since she left. The driver had to stop once they'd gotten into the real snowy area and change the wheels to blades so it would be a sleigh.
She'd been riding in the sleigh carriage three days straight without stopping, and it was too cold for Simina to pee. Luckily, there was a pee pot in the carriage. But Simina was cramped and tired, and her head hurt. She'd eaten a few frost apples, at least one a day. She was trying to ration and not eat so much because she knew that it would be a long trip.
Simina had sometimes fallen asleep in the carriage but didn't like to because it jostled around too much, and she woke with sore muscles. The carriage was downright uncomfortable. They'd stop to rest for maybe one to two hours a few times, but then kept going. Her uncleanliness bothered her to an extreme extent, as she had not washed for three days. Anyway, it was the fourth night of travel, and the night was cold and dark; the sky matted over with a mass of gray, shutting out the light of the stars. A great, howling wind blew, rocking the carriage dangerously. A flurry of snow billowed through the air. Frost covered the little carriage windows. Simina shivered, her teeth chattering, and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.
They were traveling across a massive embankment of snow, and that's all that there was—just snow upon snow. Simina now understood why they called it the Snowy Hills. It was just huge hills of piled-up snow, a barren wasteland of snow. Nothing was out there at all.
Simina didn't like the sound the wind made. It sounded like creepy whispering voices saying things to her she couldn't understand. She tried to tune it out, but it was just too much. The driver thought about stopping, but he didn't think stopping in the middle of a storm would be wise. He wanted to get through it.
The wind blew violently, and with so much snow going everywhere, it made it hard to see. The horse moved steadily forward, walking carefully through the snow, following the guidance of the driver, who told the horse where to go.
The Snowy Hills weren't just snow. Under the snow, on the lower parts of the hills, was a thin sheet of ice—prone to crack and break at any given time because it covered a stream. They'd just come down from a steep snowy hill, landing with a thump on the ground of the lesser snow-covered area. The horse's hard hoof landed with a heavy thud on the ice underneath.
Suddenly, there was a ferocious lurch as the horse jolted to a stop, which caused Simina to lurch forward in her seat. The horse neighed with panic and Simina heard an earsplitting crack of ice splitting in two. The sound spooked the horse and it started wildly bucking and jerking everywhere. This caused the carriage to sway violently back and forth as the ice under the carriage split. The carriage fell halfway into icy water without support.
The horse caused the carriage to fall and tip over as it broke from its reins and took off into the night. The driver had fallen off and the heavy carriage had dropped on top of him, crushing him beneath it, between the carriage and the ice. Simina was jostled roughly back and forth within the carriage, hitting her head many times. Stars constantly flickered before her eyes, but she didn't black out. However, Simina knew that it might be imminent. While the carriage was jerking, Simina was violently thrown from the carriage, and into the snowy, slushy ice.
She landed roughly on the cold, hard ice. The impact of her body hitting the ice caused it to crack and split under her, revealing freezing water underneath. Simina's body slid against the slick ice, rubbing her skin raw with the burning cold of the ice. Simina's head smacked against the hard ice; she hit her head so hard that it knocked her out cold.
Instant blackness fell over Simina's mind, and she remembered nothing else.
A dark shadow stretched over Simina's limp body, lying on the ice. Her lips were starting to turn blue from being kissed with the cold. The Dark Prince stared down at the girl's limp form;. his purple eyes glistened with interest. I've seen her before, he thought to himself. The Prince looked around the scene. The carriage had tipped over, probably from the jolt of an out-of-control horse and the furious winds.
The wind blew violently around him. The Prince saw the ice open its wide mouth beneath her, ready to swallow. He crouched low to the girl's body and placed two pale fingers on her neck. Her icy skin radiated through the warm tips of his fingers, almost as if she may already be frozen solid. Her gentle, thrumming pulse kicked against his fingers and then The Prince leaned down closer to hear her shallow, labored breathing.
"She's alive," the Prince muttered. I should probably get her out of here. She might have already gone into hypothermia. He picked her head up, placing her head on his shoulder, and slipped his other arm under her legs. The Prince slowly eased her up off the ice and into his arms, cradling her small frame against his chest.
Staring down at her face, the Prince brushed a gentle finger across her cold cheek. The Prince vanished with a swirl of dark purple smoke, leaving a trailing puff of purple mist.