by Amy Bearce
“That’s what I thought,” she said, casting a glance at the empty sky. The others gathered, dismay written on their faces. “And those brush marks in the snow were probably its wings when it took off. Keep an eye out. There may be more dragons here than we know.”
But they had to keep going, dragons or not. The afternoon was quiet, as their breathing grew more labored. By the end of the day, they’d at least reached the sporadic beginnings of the hillside, which offered a bit of shelter, but the mountains were still so far away. Too far.
Before bed, Nell and the others sat around a smoky peat moss fire cut from the tundra. Strangely, it smelled a lot like the inside of the Salty Dog. The swirling lights above began their dance again. Despite their beauty, Corbin stared at the strange notations in the back of the book from the ancient temple, frowning, his lips moving occasionally as if thinking to himself.
Nell stared dully at the low fire. They’d marched hard all day, and they had so much farther to go.
Another healing session with Tristan and Micah before dinner had shored up most of the pain around Nell’s heart, but their faces were drawn afterward. She wouldn’t take their magic again; it was too risky for the faun and merman. They’d better find the Tree soon, or she’d be lost to the Dragon’s magic after all.
Creaking groans like a ship on rough seas echoed through the valley, noises Corbin said came from ice floes around the Ice-Locked Lands. Without the distraction of the hike, her mind kept drifting back to her fights with the Dragon. She imagined different moves she could have tried, but the honest truth was she couldn’t think of any other way she could have beaten him. Whoever he was, he was just too good. The thought made her grit her teeth.
A long howl echoed through the night, sending goose bumps along Nell’s arms.
Everyone lifted their heads and stared at each other.
“Wolves live here?” Sierra asked, pulling out her bow and arrows.
“Snow wolves.” Corbin glanced at the darkened hills surrounding them. “There’s also ice cougars, basilisks, and other creatures native to this region. Snow giants are really dangerous, if they even exist, but they supposedly prefer the high mountains. And now, of course, we’ve got dragons, too.”
“Nice place.” Nell rolled her eyes.
“I think we’ll be okay in the tents,” Corbin offered.
“I sure hope so. But, if the Dragon’s hunting us like I think he is, he’ll have more tricks up his sleeve. Wolves could be the least of our worries.”
She looked up at the mountains that remained stubbornly far away. The Dragon could have taken all of the ports by now, even while directing one of his dragons to keep watch on them here. The urgency of the quest drove her to stay sharp even as despair at their situation pulled at her, at all of them. Weariness was doing the Dragon’s work for him.
Nell watched the dancing ribbons of lights, and let the wonder of their beauty soothe her tired heart. She could breathe deeper, even with the air stinging her lungs.
I’m coming, she told whoever might be listening up there at the mountains, among the lights. Don’t give up on me.
She wouldn’t give up on herself, either.
That night, her sleep was punctuated with the cries of wolves. And in her dreams, she was among them, wild and free, the moon calling long cries from her throat, gilded crimson magic racing beneath her paws along the ice.
In the morning, heavy clouds covered the bright blue sky for the first time, providing relief from the glare. As the friends moved farther inland, hills rolled around all sides of them like scoops of cream. The map indicated a series of caves maybe a day or two ahead.
By lunchtime, a strange haze hovered over the snowy ground in the distance. Half the mountain range was hidden behind a solid wall of white.
“Please tell me that’s not a snow storm coming,” Nell said, pointing in the direction of the whitened sky to their left.
Corbin squinted into the distance. “I’ve read they can spring up in minutes here.”
Micah frowned. “But there’s something else there. The clouds hold some sort of power in it, magic.”
“What do you mean?” Sierra asked him, paling.
He narrowed his eyes. “I do not think this is an ordinary storm but is a magical attack.”
Nell swore under her breath. “Let’s get as far away as we can. Maybe we can reach the caves before the storm hits. Alastair said wind slides right around these tents, but a blizzard isn’t the way I want to test his word as a tradesman.”
Snow drifts were already forming as they hurried through the hills. At times, they were blocked from the wind’s fury, but at others it came from all directions, forcing them to lean forward to keep from being blown over. Fat flakes of snow stuck on their packs, their furry jackets, their eyelashes.
In between gusts of snow, something billowed toward her, pale but translucent. In the darkening light, Nell could swear she saw small, almost invisible creatures riding the wind, swooping and swirling closer. Shriveled, ghostly things with gaunt faces and angry, teeth-filled glares full of hate. She stopped in her tracks.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Nell called to Micah. “Faces in the wind?”
He narrowed his eyes and lifted one hand. “I do not see faces, only shapes, but I feel the power. Magic has pushed this storm to us, most assuredly. It feels the same as the dark magic the Dragon inflicted upon you, Nell.”
Tristan wrapped his arm around Phoebe and called over the howl of the wind, “I see something, too, but it’s not clear, like looking in a mirror in a dark room.”
“I don’t know how you can see anything in this,” Corbin said, arm raised to block the wind.
Another blast of freezing wind hit them. Micah staggered. “Whatever it is, I can feel it radiating hateful power.”
Two more swirls of white spun around her. A face brushed by: sunken cheeks, eyes completely milky white, no hair, but a mouth full of teeth.
She bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming. The taste of blood was salty and metallic.
“Micah’s right. Something dangerous is here,” she warned. “This isn’t a typical snow storm. Trust me.”
“We do,” Corbin replied. “So, where can we go?”
They were all looking to her. Frustration spun up faster than the winds. Those ghostly creatures could attack at any moment. She had no idea what damage they could cause. Even if they could only force a blizzard, being buried in freezing temperatures was deadly enough. Nell squinted against the increasing whiteness. To their left, a small overhang between two rocky hills looked big enough to help shelter them.
“This way!” she called and took off running. In her rush, she slid on a patch of ice and fell. Pain jolted through her bones.
Corbin exclaimed and tried to help her up, but she shook off his arms. “I’m fine.”
She might not be in top shape after her pathetic defeat, but by all the stars she could still get off the ground on her own. He looked at her with wounded puppy dog eyes, but she ignored him, brushing her coat off with jerking sweeps of her hands.
Turning away from him, Nell pointed ahead to the overhang, where the snow hadn’t piled up as much. “We’ll set up there. Hopefully the storm won’t last long!”
Just as they reached the spot, the haunting faces in the wind blew by her again and sent her heart racing. No one else said a word about seeing anything strange, though, so she simply reached for the bags. She willed herself not to look for the horrifying creatures but to focus only on the task.
The others worked with her, and they got the tents up with amazing speed. Corbin tied a rope between the two, saying, “If it gets bad enough, you can follow the rope to us. Whatever you’re seeing in the wind doesn’t seem to be hurting us directly, but this storm could get even worse.”
Nell couldn’t imagine it getting any worse but felt better nonetheless to have a physical tie to the other half of their group. The wind outside the tent howled louder than a dr
agon, and the material of the walls rippled and jerked. But none of the frightening white ghost creatures appeared in their tents. Nell gave a tentative breath of relief. Snow, they could deal with.
The flurries hissed against the tent.
Sierra said, “What did you see out there, exactly?”
Nell described the faces, the fury in the eyes. “I wish I knew why you couldn’t see them, too.”
“I guess I should be glad I got left out of that.”
“Weird creatures or not, that’s a lot of snow out there.” Phoebe shivered.
“Definitely.”
Her whole body and face ached from the arctic air. Her hips and knees felt bruised from her fall. Her insides still felt coiled up from those howling ghostly faces that others had not seen.
She thought back to Corbin’s expression when she’d refused his help after she fell, the way he’d bit his lip and turned away. Nell ground her teeth. She appreciated his concern, but she didn’t need help for a simple hike.
She’d be glad for some magical assistance, though. Ironic, since she was once so afraid of magic that she’d had to steel herself to walk through Corbin’s fairy field. She’d come a long way since then, but it didn’t matter. She had to muddle through this mess on her own, facing the Dragon’s magic without the guide she’d come to trust. She shivered, and the coals of resentment smoldered inside her.
he winds of the snow storm picked up, screaming with a frightening intensity. The edges of the tent ruffled, flapped, and danced. How much more could it take? They couldn’t survive without shelter.
“Get ready to run to the boys’ tent!” Nell called. Hopefully the other tent would still be there. They pulled on their packs and crouched at the door of the tent.
Another gust hit. Fabric ripped, and the top of their tent pulled away and soared off like a child’s kite. Nell looked up into a spinning tunnel of white, and blinding snow filled the tent.
“Quick!” She reached past the ragged remains of the tent until she slapped up against the rope. Steadying herself, she yelled, “Put your hand on my shoulder!”
Sierra called back, “Phoebe’s with me. Let’s move!”
Nell pushed her way into the blizzard. White filled her vision in every direction, but at least there were no faces, no teeth, no glaring dead-looking eyes. Only the rope in her hands. It took just four or five steps, but her coat was caked before she managed to scrape on the outside of the boys’ tent. “Let us in!”
Winds howled in her ear and lying down began to seem like a reasonable idea. The snow would be soft, at least.
Then hands pulled her inside, with Sierra and Phoebe falling in behind.
Fairy lights made her blink. Queenie, Grace, and all the wee ones lined the fabric, lending their brightness and strength. Nell sat pressed next to Corbin. Though she would have preferred more space, there wasn’t any. Everyone huddled around the meager heat of the brazier and whispered about the strange creatures in the storm, the risks of the blizzard, their strategy should the last tent fail. The winds continued to blow.
“We might as well eat,” Nell said, hunching against the cold. The needs of the body didn’t stop because of threats outside of it. Everyone ate crackers made of sunflower seeds and a bit of dried fish. When no more creepy beings appeared and the tent walls held up, her shoulders began to drop.
Such haggard ghostly creatures surely were impossible. Not even Micah had seen the gaunt cheeks, the filmy white eyes. Maybe the extreme cold had made her hallucinate. The Dragon clearly sent that storm at them―Micah sensed the deliberate power, too, after all―but those creatures riding the wind must have been her imagination. That was it. She felt better upon deciding so.
Despite the storm, the heat in their tent rose, and her eyelids grew heavy. The time spent in stillness made her earlier irritation seem out of hand as well. Corbin would help anyone up out of the snow, she knew. He wasn’t suggesting she was weak. He knew better than that. So did she. She allowed herself to lean against him, and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
She rubbed her forehead. Perhaps the Dragon’s poison had progressed further than she knew. Less obvious than a blizzard, but no less lethal. She took a deep breath, swearing to be more kind and patient with everyone, no matter what those deep, dark impulses muttered.
When the sounds outside finally faded, Nell said, “Let’s find out what we’re up against.”
It took two tries for them to unlace the tent flaps, but finally the group ventured outside. Snow covered everything at least two feet thick. The ruined girls’ tent was full of snow, the top hole not even visible.
Nell cleared her throat. “Well, on the positive side, he’s given up on attacking us for now, I guess. Sky’s even clearing.”
“That’s a lot of snow, though,” Sierra said. “Guess we’ll be sleeping six to this tent somehow?”
“We can figure out something. Sleeping like sardines will help keep us warm, at least.” Corbin wiped snow off the top of the surviving tent.
“I guess we were pretty lucky.” Phoebe eyed the huge mounds of snow drifts all around.
Corbin nodded. “Just one tent down―we got off easy. The layer of snow probably helped keep us warmer, actually. Some animals burrow under the snow to survive the deep winters here.”
His voice had taken on its lecturing tone. Nell listened respectfully, even fondly. She never thought she’d be thankful for a snow storm, magically induced or not, but it had given her the time she needed to regain self-control.
She forced a grin at him, lifting one eyebrow. “So you’re saying if I need to hunt, I may have to crawl under the snow?”
He blinked twice before he answered. “I, uh, imagine there’s something to find above the snow, if you’re lucky. Maybe I can hunt with you tonight? With those storm creatures you saw, we should probably stick in pairs, at least.”
“That’d be nice,” she said.
He ducked his head before glancing up with a pleased smile.
She was glad she’d spoken her thought aloud. It really would be nice. Besides, two hunters were better than one, practically speaking. Their foraging had been limited to a few bird eggs and some very bitter tundra weeds. A savory hot meal would push some of the cold out of her bones.
After packing up quickly―saving the remains of the tent material, just in case―the friends pushed through thigh-high snow drifts until Nell’s leg muscles burned. Corbin marched alongside Nell. He didn’t offer his arm, his help, or his sympathy. It was nice. Eventually, the drifts thinned out, and Nell gave a sigh of relief under her breath.
“Found anything new in that book of yours?” she asked Corbin. He’d been so quiet.
“The words added in the back are important, I know it, but I can’t quite figure out the language yet. It’s like it’s in a code. I’m almost sure one of the words means ‘tree.’ Maybe.”
“If anyone can figure it out, you can.”
He offered her a bright smile, and his response warmed her.
When Nell finally called it a day, the sun sat on the horizon with thick packs of clouds scurrying past, but the heavy clouds of the storm had not returned. “We didn’t get as far as I’d have liked, but we need time to hunt, no matter what dangerous creatures are out there. If another storm comes―natural or otherwise―fresh food will carry us through better than our packed stuff.”
“Good luck.” Sierra scanned the steep hills beyond their camp. “Looks empty.”
Corbin nodded. “I imagine the dragons have scared off or eaten all the larger herd animals, but I’m sure a few rodents and birds are still around, hidden.”
Sierra wrinkled her nose at the mention of rodents, but Nell had eaten worse.
“Come on then, Corbin.” Nell pulled her bow out. “Let’s see what we can find.”
The air had a heavy stillness after the wild snowfall. The light was luminous even in dusk, reflecting off the curve of the sky and the white of the snow in an endless loop.
&nbs
p; Nell checked for animal prints but found nothing. “We’ll have to go farther from camp.”
“That’s fine with me. I’ve got your back.”
She hoped so.
They searched until darkness fell. Nell shook her head. “Looks like another meal of cold porridge, unless you can talk Sierra into being less stingy with the dried meat. Sorry.”
“Hey, you can’t make game appear. Even hunters as good as you have limits.”
She grinned. It seemed like forever since they’d spent time alone, especially without an immediate crisis brewing. She reached for his hand, weaving her fingers through his. Moments like these mattered, even on dangerous journeys. Maybe especially on those.
Her hands were calloused where his were smooth, but they fit together perfectly. He tightened his grip.
As they picked their way back across the ice, Corbin asked, “Do you know if there’s anything we should grab for potions or poultices while we’re here? When we get back, you could mix up some really unique medicines.”
Nell pressed her lips together. The ground passed under her feet, right foot, left foot, one after another.
He cleared his throat. “I mean, when we get back―and we will―you’ll pick up training with my mother again… won’t you?”
Words, words, words―so hard to handle, unexpectedly pointed and sharp sometimes, and other times so unclear and fuzzy. But she couldn’t fight the Dragon, the land, and her own heart. Not all at once.
She stopped and faced Corbin, reaching to take his other hand. They stood linked. “I love your mother and appreciate all she’s given me. But I think we both know if we survive this, everything could be very different.”
He looked a little too carefully at the sky. “You may not have time to study for a while, I know. The people will need you now more than ever after the Dragon’s lies.”
“You mean they’ll need the voice more than ever. But unless we find this Tree of Life, they won’t hear it again. I might not be special for much longer,” she reminded him, pointing toward her heart. It was the most she would reveal of her struggle.
