The Ice Cream Crown Skating Races
By Amy Laurens
()
About this ebook
Every year, the town of Linderch gathers to watch the Ice Cream Crown Skating Races, a series of trick races skated on a pond of magically deep-frozen ice cream.
This year, fourteen-year-old George intends to win.
If he loses, his family loses their house.
George's biggest challenge? His year off, with no practice.
Or so he thinks.
Because this year, something sinister simmers, a dangerous mystery founded on a long-running grudge that stands to jeopardise everything…
A fantasy-mystery for anyone who loves magic — and would fight to protect it.
Amy Laurens
AMY LAURENS is an Australian author of fantasy fiction for all ages. Her story Bones Of The Sea, about creepy carnivorous mist and bone curses, won the 2021 Aurealis Award for Best Fantasy Novella. Amy has also written the award-winning portal-fantasy Sanctuary series about Edge, a 13-year-old girl forced to move to a small country town because of witness protection (the first book is Where Shadows Rise), the humorous fantasy Kaditeos series, following newly graduated Evil Overlord Mercury as she attempts to acquire a castle, the young adult series Storm Foxes, about love and magic and family in small town Australia, and a whole host of non-fiction, both for writers AND for people who don’t live with constant voices in their heads. Other interesting details? Let’s see. Amy lives with her husband and two kids in suburban Canberra. She used to be a high-school English teacher, and she was once chewed on by a lion. (The two are unrelated. It was her right thumb.) Amy loves chocolate but her body despises it; she has a vegetable garden that mostly thrives on neglect; and owns enough books to be considered a library. Of course. Oh, and she also makes rather fancy cakes in her spare time. She’s on all the usual social media channels as @ByAmyLaurens, but you’ve got the best chance of actually getting a response on Instagram or the contact form on her website. <3
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The Ice Cream Crown Skating Races - Amy Laurens
Table of Contents
The Ice Cream Crown Skating Races
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter One
Every year, the town of Linderch gathers to watch the Ice Cream Crown Skating Races, a series of trick races skated on a pond of magically deep-frozen ice cream.
This year, fourteen-year-old George intends to win.
If he loses, his family loses their house.
George’s biggest challenge? His year off, with no practice.
Or so he thinks.
Because this year, something sinister simmers, a dangerous mystery founded on a long-running grudge that stands to jeopardise everything...
A fantasy-mystery for anyone who loves magic—and would fight to protect it.
The Ice Cream Crown Skating Races
AMY LAURENS
Australia
––––––––
For the Canberra Write Like An Author crew of July 2021. Thanks for the inspiration. You guys are fabulous <3
Chapter 1
A picture containing dark, projector, night sky Description automatically generatedthe Ice Cream Crown Skating Races drew something like half a million people to the little town of Linderch every year, and even though it was only ten a.m. on the first day of practices, George thought that at least half of those people must already be here.
That was what it felt like, anyway, pushing and elbowing his way through a crowd of mostly adults, mostly a head taller than him, trying not to drop his hotdog as he squished and squeezed his way back toward the sheep-panel fence that blocked the skating pond from the spectators.
Deep fried snacks scented the air, smells that seemed warm even in the middle of a snowy winter, with air that pinched at George’s nose and slapped at his cheeks.
He bit into the hotdog, trying to scoff it down before it either went cold or got knocked out of his hands in the press of people. Someone elbowed him in the back and he stumbled, juggling the rest of the hotdog awkwardly in his red gloves... But he caught it in time and the crowd opened up enough of a gap for him to dart a bit closer to the fence.
He shrugged his shoulders, nestling his mustard-coloured puffer jacket up around his ears.
Around him, the crowd muttered and chattered and murmured—and someone was shouting. George stood on tiptoes to see—the voice sounded familiar.
Ah, it was old Avi, arguing with a race official over by the competitor’s gate. George stared in fascination. This was the third argument George had seen Avi having today, and the grounds had only been open for two hours. Not that that was unusual for Avi, a dark skinned, white-haired, gnarled old fellow who seemed to have a bone to pick with every person whose shadow crossed his path.
The first argument George had witnessed today had been with one of the ice cream stalls about the size of the scoops they were handing out (too irregular, some big, some small). The second had been with a fluffed-up snow goose over Avi’s ice cream cone (the goose had won, stealing the cone right out of Avi’s hand). And now, he was ranting about something to do with potholes.
George rolled his eyes. He jostled his way to the railings that held the crowd back from the pond and leaned his elbows on it. Around him, the crowd shuffled and muttered and murmured, boots slushing in the half-melted snow, voices rising and falling like the wind.
George let it all wash over him, eyes on the pond, searching out Mabel.
It was hard to spot her pastel pink coat against the swirling, pastel rainbow of the surface on which the competitors skated; ribbons of mint green and banana yellow and bubblegum pink twined through the frozen pond, cut through with slashes of baby blue and lavender.
The pond looked good enough to eat—and that was almost entirely the point.
Sponsored by the Linderch Ice Cream Museum, the Ice Cream Crown Skating Races took place not on ice, but on magically deep-frozen ice cream—an entire pond full of it. No one quite knew how the Museum convinced the ice cream to set solid enough to skate on—let alone how they procured enough ice cream to keep the pond filled throughout the winter—but regardless, it was the event of the Linderch calendar, drawing tourists from far and wide and filling the whole town with delicious, sugary smells for a month every year.
And then, of course, there were the promotional stands set up at regular intervals the whole way around the pond. Also sponsored by the Ice Cream Museum, for one hour every day in the month-long lead up to the races, you could brave the crowds and the queues and take your shot at some free ice cream—assuming the line moved fast enough that you got to the front of it before the hour was up.
George had finished his triple-caramel twist in a choc-dipped waffle cone just minutes before, and the delicious, sugary taste still lingered.
A red streak caught George’s eye. Landon, Mabel’s primary competition. George frowned. Landon’s form was on point, his spins sharp, and his slaloms... George winced as Landon zipped precariously close by someone in a pink jacket.
But Mabel, in her pink jacket, continued unfazed by Landon’s theatrics, and George smiled. Sure, the competition was stiff and the family was in danger of losing the house, but anyone who thought Mabel wasn’t a shoe-in to win clearly hadn’t seen her practice. She kicked out right atop a mint-green spiral, leapt, spun... and spun... and slipped.
George’s gasp echoed through the crowd as the spectators watched Mabel fall. As the favourite in the Junior Division, her face had been plastered all over town for the last few weeks; everyone knew who she was, and George had to imagine that quite a few of them would be genuinely sad to see a favourite stumble like that.
The gasps swelled to muttering, and then to outright ripples of concern and worry as Mabel struggled to regain her footing. She managed to drag herself upright —but only just. George squinted; her right leg wasn’t working properly.
His stomach