by Amy Bearce
She continued, “I’ll either walk out of here with a magical sword, or, if the Dragon has his way, I won’t walk out at all.”
“He wants you to join him, not die.” Corbin jutted out his jaw, finally meeting her gaze.
“If I don’t join him, he’s not going to let me go peacefully. And honestly, let’s say we win, the Dragon’s gone. Even if that happens, I’m not sure I’m meant to be a healer, Corbin. When I think about the sword of Aluvia, I feel―”
“I don’t think now is the best time to decide your future, do you? We should talk about this later.” His words were sharp. He dropped her hands, took a step back.
Nell’s stomach clenched.
“I’m not sure my future’s even my decision to make anymore,” she muttered and pushed past him.
At camp, she sat silently by the fire, aching with cold. She glared at the scrubby bushes burning fitfully.
The others exchanged meaningful looks but said nothing, asked nothing. Corbin sat across from her, gazing at her with those big brown eyes, begging for her to choose a quiet life as a healer. To never risk her life as a warrior.
So she was good with a sword. What of it? She’d worked hard to become so. He should trust her to take care of herself. She shook her head and forced herself to watch the fire instead of Corbin’s pained expression.
He just didn’t understand. Nell loved that he was soft-hearted, she did, but she couldn’t help being more like a hawk than a dove. The voice hadn’t condemned her for being a warrior. It seemed, in fact, to have encouraged her.
At least one person―or thing―seemed to understand her around here.
Everyone got ready for bed in awkward silence. Six in a tent meant for three required everyone to lie on their side. At least it was warmer, but anytime someone moved, Nell startled awake. After everyone else had gone to sleep, she found herself stepping back outside the cramped tent, too restless to lie still.
Without the campfire, the darkness had a rich depth like velvet. The cold stung her face, but her eyes couldn’t stay away from the undulating ribbons in the sky. The lights felt so… restrained. Held back from the fullness they could be.
Nell saluted the roiling lights with a sardonic smile. “I know how you feel.”
She breathed deeply, white fog puffing from her mouth before blowing away in the wind. It was too cold for this sort of rumination. She shook her head at her foolishness, pulling her gaze from the sky. But as she turned, she glimpsed a flash of red and orange from the corner of her eye. Not the silvery red of above―this looked like a spurt of fire. Fire, in a land of ice.
eart racing, Nell spun toward the flash but nothing was there, just a silent night with starlight glittering against the snow like diamonds. Her breath hitched, and she rechecked her surroundings. Nothing. She was sure she’d seen a glimpse of fire.
Maybe exhaustion and the cold were playing tricks on her eyes. With one last suspicious look around, she crawled back into the tent, burrowing deep into her sleeping bag without taking off a single layer of clothing.
In the morning, her vision of fire seemed to be impossible. Nell felt it definitely must have been a hallucination, maybe from exhaustion. Maybe it was even caused by the Dragon’s toxic poison, who knew? Better not to mention it, especially on top of being the only one who had seen faces in the howling wind.
They’d reached a flat area that spread between the rocky hills, giving level footing for the first time in days. Moving faster lifted everyone’s spirits.
Phoebe and Tristan paced across the slick ice in front of Nell. A few pieces of their long hair escaped from each of their hoods and entangled in the wind, red and green together. She found it sweet, not that she’d ever admit such a mushy feeling.
Up ahead, a creature suddenly dropped below the cloud line. It remained far enough away to blur details, but the vivid blue coloring was clear enough.
“Dragon!” Phoebe choked on the word.
“Quick. Move back into the hills, and we’ll search for the caves.” Nell pitched her voice low, but the command carried clearly over the ice.
Following her lead, everyone turned and scurried toward the bigger, jagged hills. If the dragon saw them, they wouldn’t need to worry about making good time to the mountains anymore.
Nell glanced over her shoulder. “It’s coming closer. Move it!” It would freeze them solid. Kill them in a single breath.
They ran faster, skidding and sliding. Nell reached the edge of the hills first but waited for her friends. She’d never leave them out there like ripe berries for the picking. They shouldn’t have exposed themselves on an open plain, no matter how much time it saved them. Sierra and Micah pounded up beside her, followed by Corbin. Only Tristan and Phoebe were left exposed on the flat open ground, arms pumping as they raced for cover.
The dragon landed hard on the opposite end of the oblong plain and lifted its head with a screech. Plumes of white mist shot high in the air.
A loud crack resounded through the frigid air, and Nell’s heart skipped a beat.
“Come on!” she screamed.
“It’s too heavy for the ice!” Corbin gasped.
Cracks broke away from the dragon’s feet, spreading like spider webbing. Popping sounds echoed through the hills and breaks jagged their way closer and closer across the ice. The dragon stomped one foot and bugled. The land under the beast suddenly split open with a roar, water spewing upward as the chunk of ice sank. With a shriek of rage, the dragon floundered in the icy hole before launching itself back into the sky, water dripping from its tail and belly.
“Run! Get off―it’s a lake! The surface ice is breaking from the dragon’s weight!” Nell yelled.
Another loud crack resounded through the air, and Phoebe fell through the ice. She was there one second, gone the next. She didn’t even have time to scream.
“Phoebe!” Sierra shouted, voice echoing off the surrounding hills.
Tristan skidded to a halt and jumped feet-first into the hole after Phoebe. The water swallowed him up without a ripple.
Nell cursed and her gaze flashed to the dragon, flying away now, snapping its tail and shaking out its feet. The cold had been too much for an ice dragon.
“We’ve got to find the caves and set up a fire for her. That thing could come back or bring more. Grab the warmest thing you can find!” Nell threw her pack to Corbin.
He took off into the rough hillside, with Micah joining him.
Sierra ran the opposite way, toward the hole in the ice. Before she got three steps in, Nell tackled her.
“No, you’ll die under there! Tristan’s got magic.”
“Let me go!” Sierra bucked and struggled to escape.
“Promise me”―Nell ground her teeth hard―“you won’t dive under the ice. He can’t save you both, and she’ll need you. We’ll get her inside a cave, get her warm.”
Blue light flared under the ice.
Sierra stilled. “I promise.”
When Nell moved, Sierra scrambled to the edge of the hole and knelt with wide, bleak eyes.
Corbin appeared at her side, pressed a fur cloak into Nell’s hands. “We found a place. It’s not far. And… Phoebe?”
“Not yet.” Nell let out a breath.
“Micah’s starting the fire.” Corbin laid his hand on Sierra’s shoulder.
More blue light blazed beneath the ice, rays spearing up through the hole before fading.
Sierra gave a strangled sob.
Then Tristan’s green hair floated up, followed by the vivid red of Phoebe’s. Her hair filled the hole like blood pouring from a wound. Tristan pushed her out of the icy water, her eyes closed, lips blue.
“Quick!” Nell bellowed.
Sierra, weeping openly, bundled Phoebe in the cloak, crying, “Thank you! Thank you!”
Corbin helped Tristan out the hole, and Nell wrapped him up. Then they all followed Corbin to a shallow cave, snugged between two rocks, nearly impossible to see.
Nell g
ave thanks, too. At least the dragon wouldn’t find them here, should it return. Hopefully it wouldn’t, not after its own obviously unpleasant encounter with the lake.
Inside, Micah had a small fire going near the edge of the opening. The smoke hovered at the top of the cave like haze, but the smoky warmth was the best thing Nell had ever felt.
Sierra laid Phoebe by the fire. The sunlight dropped off fast inside, cloaking them in dimness even with the light of the low flames.
“Thank Aluvia for the waterproofed pack!” Tristan tossed Nell a dry set of clothes.
Sierra and Nell got Phoebe changed, and everyone huddled in the cave until her breathing grew steady and her skin flushed with warmth.
“She’ll be okay. They both will,” Corbin said, eyeing Phoebe and Tristan.
Tristan had changed into a new set of clothing as well. Their wet clothes would have to be left behind if they didn’t dry out in time. The near disaster would cost them an entire afternoon, but at least Phoebe was alive.
“We might as well camp here tonight,” Nell said.
“You think the dragon’s still out there?” Corbin asked.
Nell shrugged. “Either way, Phoebe needs to rest. We all could, really.”
“You don’t have to convince me.” Sierra ran her hand down Phoebe’s hair.
“I’ll take first watch,” Corbin said.
“Mind if I join you?” Nell asked. “Two are better than one if we can arrange it.”
“Always glad to have you with me,” he said. Warmth unrelated to the fire spread through her.
After dinner, Phoebe stirred a little more and insisted she was fine, as did Tristan, who said, “I could draw enough strength from the water to fight off the worst of the cold for both of us.”
Nell didn’t really believe their assurances, but she understood saying one thing when you felt another. She rubbed at her chest and turned away.
They skated in and out of the rocky hills during the next day, staying in another cave that night instead of their cramped tent. Phoebe and Tristan kept up without complaint, as did everyone else. Though the tinder they’d brought with them was nearly gone, Corbin found scrubby bushes buried under the snow along many of the caves, and the dead branches burned well.
But even with the added warmth, the space beneath Nell’s heart seemed colder, especially when anger flared, which happened more frequently. The worsening of her attitude had to be from the poison, but she waved Micah and Tristan away when they offered magic. This land never gave up, but neither did she or her friends. A ghost of her usual smile curled her lips as they set off again.
Mountains now ranged almost all the way around like two hands cupping a delicate ice sculpture. Behind them lay the ocean, somewhere too far to reach now.
Before they’d traveled more than a half a day on their sixth day, another blizzard blew up, drenched with hateful magic that seemed to feed on their fears. It kept them trapped in a cave all afternoon and night. Thanks to the shelter, the friends remained warm, but hunting had been impossible. Their stomachs growled all day.
By the next morning, Nell decided enough was enough. They’d been here a full week already. Maybe if she went hunting on her own, she’d find success. She’d wake the others with a delicious surprise.
The morning sun had not yet topped the mountains, but a faint rosy glow spread along the whiteness. She followed a narrow gorge between the hills, and a frozen stream glittered like pink diamonds. So beautiful, she thought. A place worth fighting for.
The spot under her heart pulsed sharply, breaking her stride. A memory flashed: She saw herself falling again in battle with the Dragon, her weapon knocked from her hand.
No. Shaking her head hard, she crouched to study clumps of lichen on the rocks poking up from the snow. Something had nibbled on the bits of green, leaving bite marks so tiny, few would have noticed.
It took only a quarter-hour more until she found a little tunnel in the snow, paw prints around it. Excellent. She laid out a piece of dried fruit near the hole and drew her bow. It wasn’t as sporting as she’d like, but sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. The little animal never even heard the thud of her arrow and hopefully never felt a thing beyond a second of shock. She’d never want to cause undue pain to an innocent creature.
The Dragon, though, was a different matter. He wasn’t helpless or innocent. Some pain might do him good. Her lips twisted.
She picked up her prize and whacked it against a nearby rock for good measure. Some kind of rodent with thick white fur, tiny ears, and a scrawny tail. She sliced along the rodent’s thick skin―far tougher than it looked―and wondered how it would feel to cut the Dragon as he had cut her. The red scar line along her palm still showed. The voice’s desperate healing attempt hadn’t been enough, clearly, nor had the magic of her friends.
She jerked her knife harder, and blood pooled on the snow, deep red, shockingly vivid in the bright sunlight. She cut out the creature’s heart, and if she imagined her enemy as she did so, well, he had pushed her too far. Attacking her home, trying to steal her magic. She buried the skin and other inedible bits of the creature and arrived back at camp with the freshly cleaned animal in tow, pleased with the offering she could make to the morning’s meal.
As soon as she reached the cave entrance, Corbin rushed up to her. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!”
“What does it look like I was doing?” Nell held out the rodent.
“You shouldn’t go off on your own like that! Not here. Think about avalanches, blizzards, treacherous ice―not to mention our enemy waiting to attack.”
Nell opened her mouth to argue, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“I barely slept before we left because I was reading everything I could that would help us. You don’t know how bad it is here, Nell. We have to stick together.”
She jerked up her chin. “I can take care of myself.”
Corbin touched her arm, pulled her to face him. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
She wanted to hit him and hug him at the same time.
He lifted his hand, palm out, and waited.
With a deep breath, she met his gaze and pressed her palm to his without a word. She let the warmth from his hand soak into her skin and tried to imagine the heat finding its way into her heart. Corbin would help shield her if she let him.
“I know,” she finally said, voice breathier than it should be. “I won’t forget. I promise.”
She promised herself the same thing.
loud pop from the low flames broke the silent tension, and Corbin turned to build up the fire.
“You caught breakfast. I’ll cook it.” He took the skinned creature from her without flinching. He’d really toughened up a lot in the last years, her soft-hearted fairy keeper.
He set to work, melting snow in the little pot, helpful as always. She really should learn from his humble and forgiving nature. He only wanted her to be safe.
Sure. Safe and wrapped in a blanket for safe-keeping. She couldn’t stop the thought. Maybe he just needed a reminder of how well she could take care of herself. Hadn’t she proved that already? She’d almost died twice, after all, but lived despite the odds.
The first time had been when Jack tested her for the rank of enforcer. She always thought she’d die by a blade, but that time, Jack’s bare hands had almost been enough. He’d left her bruised and battered, yet she’d passed his miserable test and won the position she’d needed.
The second time Nell had nearly died, of course, had been when she was attacked by a swarm of fairy queens. Sometimes when she lay awake at night, she wondered why she’d lived when her own father had died from a swarm like so many others. During those moments alone in the darkness, guilt could sting as harsh as the fairy stings themselves. But she couldn’t regret her life.
After they packed up and began the day’s hike, Nell walked ahead of everyone, alone. Her muscles burned with the pace she set. It felt g
ood to push herself. Sure, a warrior faced some danger, but what was life without a bit of flavor? Risk was like the hot sauce at the Salty Dog Tavern: Corbin could only stand a drop of it, but she poured it over her whole plate. No one else understood.
She hunched against the icy wind, consoling herself with plans of how she’d get rid of the Dragon in the end. Should she stab him? Drown him? Poison him with his own toxin? There were so many options.
Occasionally, more flashes of fire danced in the sky along the edge of her vision. Great. She’d glance up only to see nothing. But she could have sworn that, for one split second, the shape of something familiar was outlined against the piercing blue sky, with wings gracefully flowing over its head, aflame with orange and red and gold flickers. She tore off the gauze protecting her eyes, blinked hard, and shook her head. Hallucinations on top of seeing flashes and bizarre horrifying faces.
You got that? she snapped at the silent voice inside. You’ve finally driven me mad.
The lack of response was more depressing than expected. She missed the steady calmness of the voice, as well as its support and guidance, though it galled her to admit it. If the voice was gone forever, she wouldn’t know quite what to do with herself. But as the silence inside continued, she feared she’d have to figure that out.
All morning and into the afternoon, she stayed a few footlengths apart from everyone, glowering at the ground. She chose to squint rather than put back on her gauzy eye covering, preferring clear, crisp vision to reducing glare. The others followed her lead. Eventually, Corbin fell into step beside her. He reached for her hand, and she let him take it, the connection easing a tightening in her belly she hadn’t realized was there.
“Nell, are you going tell me what’s upsetting you―beyond the obvious?” His voice was barely audible over the crunching of the snow.
“As if the obvious wasn’t enough?”
He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t lift far. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“This morning or when you refused to even discuss that I might not end up as a healer?” Nell said.
