The Finding of the Ice Princess

Chapter One - Found

Movement drew Ophelia Dawson's attention away from her twin sister's babble. She took in a sharp breath at the most beautiful bird she'd ever seen.

A barn owl lit on a birch tree across the café's parking lot. It settled its golden wings and turned its white face and chest to her. Green leaves fluttered all around it. Barn owls weren't supposed to venture so far north, but there the bird perched in the tiny town of Togo, Alaska.

Looking right at her. She stared back for the longest time.
A tingling raced up Ophelia's spine and she trembled a bit. She glanced at her twin sister and friends in the booth with her and caught sight of a boy walking out the door.

The bells, dangling from the door handle, jingled very near his denim-covered backside. He disappeared before she could lift her eyes any further.

Joe's Bar & Grille only had four orange booths and one set of moose antlers mounted on the plain cedar walls. Ophelia felt stupid for not having noticed the boy before or if he was cute or not. Not one new person had moved into their dinky little town in seven years.

"What's with you?"

Ophelia looked at her sister's absurd expression and realized she'd risen to her feet. "Well, I was just...." She pointed her thumb toward the door. "Be right back."

"Whatever."

Stepping into the sunshine, Ophelia searched for the stranger. To the north, the gray cinderblock high school peeked above birch trees and cottonwoods, and beyond them the eternally white Alaskan mountains pierced the vivid blue sky. To the south, clouds rolled in from the sea.

Once upon a time, ships brought tourists from all over the world to take pictures of Togo's glaciers and wolves. Those tourists had spent money on hats and scarfs knit from muskox fur by Alaska Native artists. They'd eaten reindeer sausage like hot dogs. The business had enabled the townsfolk to survive the long, dark winters. But a new ship hadn't chugged into the harbor in seven years. Only fishing boats came and went, both commercial and private.

A bald eagle perched high in a spruce, no doubt selecting lunch from among the ducks in the nearby pond. But the boy was gone.

Sadness descended on her, twisting into intense longing. She rubbed her aching stomach and walked back inside, wanting what she could not name.

Ophelia sank back into the booth and looked at her twin, still yapping like all life depended on her admission to costume design school.

Bianca had perfectly coiffed long, dark red hair, and light blue eyes. On perhaps the last sunny day of the short subarctic summer, she'd insisted they wear shorts and white tank tops. She'd thrown a fit when Ophelia pulled on a blue button-up shirt too.

"We should wear sweaters and long pants, like everyone else," Ophelia whispered. She glanced at their friends all covered up against the Autumn chill. "People are going to think we're weird."

"We are weird. So what?" Bianca popped another French fry into her mouth.

It was the last Sunday before the beginning of their junior year. Ophelia had less than twenty-four hours of peace before Bianca's new obsessions sent the snotty girls at school into a fashionable hissy fit.

A flash of red drew Ophelia's attention back out the window.

A new Dodge Ram pulled up and Martin Brynner barreled out of the driver's seat. Tall and buff, a red T-shirt hugged his chest and shoulders. His eyes were full of life and he smiled, revealing slightly crooked teeth. His dark blond hair was cut short, but still curled on top of his head. A scar streaked across his dimpled chin.