by Everly Frost
We continued that way until sunrise, but as we approached one of the highest peaks, Avalanche slowed for the first time. Even though the path ahead was clear and easy, he inclined his head to the right, toward a rockier pathway.
The easy path would take us right by the bears. I could sense them moving about, hear their distant growls. The difficult path would take us to the west, away from the bears, but it wasn’t made up of much more than fissures between rocks that could be blocked farther along. I sighted as far along it as I could, checking the terrain, but it was impossible to see all the way.
The leopard stopped in the fork between the two tracks, waiting for me to make a decision.
I wasn’t afraid of the bears, but the less likely they were to scent my departure, the less likely they were to realize that the tower was undefended. “We’ll have to take the difficult path,” I said, dismounting and urging the leopard to follow me.
It was hard to know how far toward the western border I would need to detour to avoid the bears detecting my movements. Luckily, Tower 148 was a border tower—the most northern tower resting on the border between Starsgard and Evereach—so verging west wasn’t such a bad thing.
I tested the path before breaking into a run. I wasn’t nearly as fast as Avalanche, but it was better that we took the corridor between rocks carefully. The snow cover was thick as I jumped between rocky outcrops, reassuring myself that if I fell into a deep drift, I could burn my way out of it. I chewed another piece of nectar gum just to be safe as we ran along the path for another hour.
The air thinned the higher we went. This path was taking us to higher peaks than I’d ever experienced before—even at the top of Tower Seventeen—and I wasn’t sure what effect the thin oxygen would have on me. The wind at this altitude was immense too, and I found myself pushing against it, pushing through it, until we were so high that we entered cloud cover and visibility was so affected that I had to slow down.
The leopard suddenly mewled beside me and I stopped just in time before I ran out across the edge of the cliff.
I skidded, trying to regain my balance as my feet rested on the very tip of it.
Rocks clattered down and down…
Far, far below was the border between Starsgard and Evereach.
I took a few steps back and rested down on my knees, pulling out a flask of water. It was frozen solid and I used the fire in my hands to melt and warm it before pouring some into a bowl for Avalanche and drinking some myself.
I was about to resume running when sunlight pierced the cloud cover and I could see far over the edge of the world across Evereach’s northern coastal cities. Glittering skyscrapers reminded me of Dell city and to the far north enormous ships waited in ports ready to haul cargo around the coast. I sighted along the roads into the far distance and was surprised at the number of trucks traveling along the highways leading north. They all bore the government insignia. Across the distance were more skyscrapers, none as tall as a Starsgardian tower, but large enough for me to see that the government emblem was displayed on each from top to bottom.
Every surface that faced Starsgard was decorated in this way and it made me pause. I’d never seen such a thing when I lived in Evereach. The government owned a lot of buildings, but it certainly didn’t advertise itself all over them. One of the images moved as I watched, shifting electronically from the symbol of Evereach to a large face—President Olander’s. He appeared stern, glaring across the distance at Starsgard as if he were warning them that he was watching. He was ready and he was coming for them…
For a moment, I was taken aback by his sharp eyes and the silent threats he threw across the distance, but then my fear dissolved. It was just a picture projected across glass, and glass was breakable. I wondered what would happen if I took my whole stash of nectar and screamed across the air, whether I could shatter entire buildings. Probably not, but the thought was satisfying enough to make me smile and shake off my dread.
I ignored Olander’s face and pulled the screen from my pocket instead—the one connected to the bird camera—to see that all was quiet in front of the tower. I wished the camera had sound. Just as I was beginning to worry that it was too quiet, Pip wandered past with a stray chicken in his arms. He stopped and waved at the camera. I couldn’t help but smile as I wondered how many times he’d done that already for my benefit.
Shoving the monitor back in my pocket, I stroked the leopard’s fur. “We need to keep moving, but let’s follow the border, okay?” I’d already lost an hour taking the difficult path and I needed to make up time fast.
Avalanche rose to his feet, ready to follow me, and I was about to start running again when there was a blur of white to my left across the slope.
Bears.
Three of them spun across the rocky path a hundred feet away. I braced for them to veer in my direction. Trying to hide would be pointless. This close, they’d smell me regardless of whether or not I tried to conceal myself in snow.
Dismay filled my entire body. It was too soon. I wasn’t nearly far enough through the mountains for them to discover I was leaving.
They skidded to a halt and reared up on their hind legs in unison, all three of them catching my scent at the same time. As they turned in my direction, I wasn’t afraid of them attacking me. But I was afraid of them taking the message back to the others: The predator is leaving.
“Quick, we have to stop them.” Avalanche was ahead of me, already turning sharply in the bears’ direction and racing toward them. I let loose the fire in my hands, preparing to cast fiery shadows ahead of me.
For a second, the bears froze as I sped toward them. Then they lurched into swift action, spinning at full speed away from me. I released my shadows, but I was already too late. The bears disappeared over the crest.
I could chase them, but there were no guarantees I’d catch them and they were going in the opposite direction of Tower 148. I couldn’t turn back now. Drawing a deep breath and dousing the flames in my fingertips, I drew level with the leopard. “We need to go south as fast as we can.”
I need to find Michael as fast as I can.
I had to believe that my brothers could hold off the bears until I got back, but I couldn’t waste another moment.
There was no point taking the difficult path now. The quickest path was through bear territory and that was the way I was going to go. I raced in the direction of the clear mountain slopes, ready to leap onto the leopard’s back, but as I sped over the next peak, I stopped short in surprise, kicking up snow in my haste to stop.
A bear rose up in the dip not twenty feet away from me. I was sure they would have all disappeared by now, so to find one so close was disconcerting. We eyed each other, the bear unwinding and sniffing the air. It seemed slower, less agile than the ones I’d seen moments before and I soon realized why.
This bear’s chest was marked with the number “9.”
“Nine,” I said to the bear, needing to be on my way but glad to see it was alive. “You survived.”
It lumbered upward as I spoke, not as steady as I remembered, with a slight lean to the right.
“But not without damage.” I couldn’t regret my actions to protect myself and my brothers, but I did regret the damage to the bear.
I turned away from it and urged the leopard into a run beside me, but to my surprise, Nine didn’t get out of my way. Instead, he moved to block my path, rising up in front of me with a roar.
Cowed by the bear’s aggression, the leopard yelped and disappeared into the snow, but I wasn’t worried—he wouldn’t go far—and this way I knew he was safe.
I skidded to another stop and stared at the bear. Quickly, I sidestepped to the left, testing its resolve. Instead of turning tail, it mirrored my movements. I took another step and it moved with me, growling into the air. It even dared to ramble toward me, shaking its snout as if to say: Go back, get out of here.
But … why?
That was when I heard the scream.
THERE WAS SOMEONE on the other side of the slope.
The shout cut short, as though whoever it was had fallen—or been attacked.
“Get out of my way, Nine.”
The bear whined, chasing me to the side, its limp more obvious as it tried to stop me. I changed direction at the last moment and lurched at it, startling it backward, causing it to leap away.
Using its surprise, I shot past it and up the slope as fast as I could, the icy landscape blurring around me. Had one of my brothers quietly followed me to make sure I was safe? Had the bears attacked him?
Sliding to a stop at the top of the rise, snow sprayed around me with the speed of movement. I was a blur when I ran, not as fast as Snowboy, but as fast as a threatening ice storm.
The mountain leveled off at the top, creating a wide platform, and what unfolded on it stopped the breath in my throat.
A man dressed in Protector’s clothing battled two bears.
The man ducked as one of the bears lashed at him, but the other bear caught him from behind, lifting him up, crushing him as the first one aimed a paw at his throat. The man struggled, but the bears forced him to his knees. Until that point, he’d thrashed and fought, but as his knees touched earth, it was as though he no longer saw the bears. His body became heavy, his head dropped to his chest.
The bears rounded on him, each of them resting down on all fours. One of them roared at him, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t make a move, as though he were already dead on his knees.
The other bear flicked its head, giving a signal to the one behind. That one reared up like an executioner, taking the man’s head between its paws, preparing to twist and rip. Meanwhile, the first bear’s claws descended—fast as a whip—into the man’s chest, anchoring his body.
This was how they killed. They pinned the victim and injected venom from their claws that slowed regeneration to the point where the bears could rip the body apart, defeating the body’s healing power. There was no other power on earth that could accomplish that feat. Only Starsgard had created such a terrible weapon.
The man didn’t cry out. Instead, his masked face rose and stared directly into the bear’s, as though he saw, not what was in front of him, but far beyond it.
Racing at them, I screamed out, my voice growing in volume and depth, shouting a challenge. It was the same roar Snowboy had made the day the bears attacked us.
No, I won’t let you.
The bear with its back to me swung. The other let go of the man’s head, immediately on alert.
I was upon them in seconds.
But I wouldn’t explode this time. This time I could control it.
I channeled my fury into my arms and legs, barreling into the closest bear with brute force. As we connected with the snow, my senses sharpened, aware of every small movement—the bear’s nostrils inhaling, its heartbeat strong and quickening, its eyes sharpening to pinpricks of fear.
I was the predator now.
Once again I sensed its inner-turmoil. The bears were bred to protect the mountain without distinction or discrimination, but it was me they feared. Instinct and fear warred inside them. If I disapproved of their current actions, what then? What choice did they have? What would their breeding allow them to do? Would they strike back or retreat?
The bear I’d thrown myself against retaliated, snapping at me with its giant teeth, clawing with its massive paws, but I was already rolling to the side, snatching the very paws that would disembowel me and drawing the bear with me, using my increased strength and momentum to fling it bodily away from me.
It hit the ground and, while it shook its head, trying to refocus, I ripped off my gloves and launched myself at the second bear, which had come out from behind the man to roar at me. This time I unleashed the fire inside, grabbing at it with flaming hands.
At the same time, Nine appeared on the rim behind me, roaring at the other two.
Heeding the warning, the second bear lurched away from me, trying to get away, and I let it go as the first reconsidered its attack. Both of them backed off, grunting and swinging their large heads between me and their intended victim. They were fighting their first instinct, the one that told them to kill any human who set foot on the mountain, and I knew they teetered on the edge of giving in to it.
I roared at them again, blowing air across my hands so that the fire jumped the distance between us. This time, both bears jumped and yelped, racing toward Nine. They met him halfway and all three of them raced back into the mountains, disappearing into the snow.
I clenched my hands into fists to cool them down, concentrating on extinguishing the flame, inhaling the cold air, trying to calm my heartbeat, to focus on that empty spot where I folded away the emotion and kept the fire caged.
For a moment, I considered whether I needed to race back to my brothers, but I’d frightened the bears enough that they would lie low for a while. They wouldn’t attack unless they were sure I was really leaving. In fact, the fight had probably bought me a few extra hours, if not the day.
Satisfied that I was in control again, I picked up my gloves and made my way back to the man. He’d scrambled back in the snow, his concealed face turning to follow my every move.
Now that the bears had left him alone, I needed to put as much distance between him and me as I could. I could simply disappear into the landscape, but that might not be the best choice because I didn’t know who he was or what he was doing there. No matter what happened, there was no way I was letting him go any farther north.
I kept my voice casual as I said, “That was close.” I reached out to give him a hand, the scorpion tattoo visible beneath my sleeve.
He stared at it so hard that I faltered, unnerved by his stare.
I tugged my sleeve down over the scorpion’s mark. I studied the mask over his face, wishing I could see behind it. “You know the bears can kill you, right? You really shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe. You should go back to the south.”
Refusing my hand, he leaped to his feet and advanced on me, his voice low and scratchy like it hadn’t been used for a long time. “Who are you? How did you do that? You threw that bear … Nobody lives this far north.”
“I—” What could I say? That the bear weighed no more than a chair to me? That I did live there? That it was more my home than anywhere else?
He demanded an answer. “Are you a spy? Are you from Evereach?”
Without giving me the chance to respond, he tried to grab hold of me, but I skipped out of his reach, easily evading him.
“A spy?” I could have laughed. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be bear fodder right now. They kill people, do you understand? They literally rip people apart.”
That made him pause. “Nothing can do that.”
“Hah. That’s what you think.” I skipped out of his reach again, infuriating him. “You could have died. I saved you. Do you think a spy would do that?”
“Then what are you doing here?”
The truth was impossible to speak aloud, so I moved up close, daring him to grab me, knowing that I’d be able to dodge him no matter what he did. If I had to—only if I had to—I’d let the wild out.
I said, “I’m only going to say this one time: I’m not a spy.”
He tilted his head as the silence grew around us, as though he were trying as hard to see behind my facemask as I was to see behind his. “You might be telling the truth, but I have no way of knowing that. The Council can sort this out. You’re coming with me.”
I almost choked. The Council wouldn’t be happy to see me. In fact, it would be the worst thing that could happen from their point of view. “Trust me, the Council doesn’t want to see me.”
His posture changed and I imagined his eyes narrowing beneath his disguise. He wasn’t giving up. His voice became stern, growing in strength. “By order of the Council, you will come with me.”
For the first time, I wondered if I was dealing with a Councilor. It co
uld be Peter or Zachary—both of whom governed northern regions. I didn’t really remember their voices, although I suspected the man’s voice was being deliberately muted. The Bashers had used voice modulation technology to mask their identities. It wouldn’t surprise me if Starsgard had created some form of that technology too. Maybe he was Ricardo, the head of the Protectors. Ruth had told him to watch the mountains. He could have been there for ages.
Whoever he was, I had no good options left. He wasn’t going to leave me alone and I couldn’t force him to go back where he came from. I couldn’t force him back to safety if he chose to stay in the snow belt. Time was running out and I needed to reach Tower 148 by midday. Already the midmorning sun was mocking me as precious seconds ticked by.
I couldn’t tie him up because that would leave him to the mercy of the bears, but there was a way … If I ran away from him, then judging by his determination to detain me, he’d try to track me out of the snow belt and end up following me to safety that way. I could still make it to Tower 148 in time.
I pushed away my resentment toward him and prepared to run. “I don’t think so.”
His leg swished out, aiming to put me on my backside, to halt my escape, but I saw it coming a mile away and danced out of reach. He jumped after me, managing to snag the edge of my clothing and pull me down into the snow before I could gain momentum and speed out of there.
I kicked out, slamming one boot into his shoulder and the other at his face. He scuttled backward in the snow but wasn’t giving up. As I shot to my feet, he barreled into me, sprawling us both into the snow side by side. My fist met his face, connecting with his mask, but his own slammed into my stomach. It didn’t even wind me and I retaliated, this time changing from defensive to attacking. Within moments, we were both back on our feet and exchanging lightning blows that didn’t even raise my heartbeat.
He, on the other hand, was breathing fast. At the first opportunity for pause—when I decided to ease up and edge away from him—he circled me.
