He climbed the mountain. For months, he battled snow and ice, crossed chasms and traversed fields of ice shelves poised to drop and crush him.
At the top, he found the witch, Hector Zironi.
“Undo the curse you placed on my family, Hector!” Joey said, pointing his sword at the witch. His hand shook with cold. He could hardly grip the hilt with his gloves.
The witch smiled, standing up from his ice throne and approaching Joey.
“What if your family deserved it?”
“You evil monster.” Joey raised his sword to strike.
The witch raised a hand calmly. “Have you ever thought the curse was one of vengeance? Look at this place. Who would choose to live here?”
Joey glanced at the ice cave in which Zironi lived. Wind howled in. All the furniture, even the witch’s bed sheets, were made of ice.
“I’m only here,” Zironi said, “because your family banished me here.”
Joey lowered his sword to the icy floor. “Well, shit…”