Chapter 16 #2
That is the only positive thing about our current situation. Well, that and neither of us is dead yet.
“You know this is a snare set by your Witch Walkers, yes?” I ask him. And though I’m not a bit happy about the lake, I admit that it’s a clever obstacle for the land of the Frost King. The Eastlanders must’ve made it across, though, because there’s no sign of them.
Unless they’re the reason for the fissures in the ice.
“Of course. This entire construct is a trap.” He steps to the water’s edge and toes an ice floe. “But we can’t stay here. And don’t even think about asking me to backtrack. If the way in was still a way out, that Eastlander would’ve left. He’d been in here for a while.”
If that’s even why the Eastlander was there in the first place. He was waiting. Like a hunter.
“The magick will let us out,” I sign, trying not to breathe so hard. “And it will help us across the lake. Like you said. It will provide a way.”
Alexus looks at me, his words firm. “It will, Raina. I swear it.”
Another frosty wind blows. I throw the hood of my cloak back up and bury myself as far inside the wool as possible, hiding my hands in the slight warmth beneath my arms. I am a stranger to ice—and to cold this severe.
I can’t imagine surviving these elements for the rest of the night, much less the week it would take to cross the forest and reach Winterhold under normal conditions.
It will take longer now. But how long? How large is the construct?
Alexus snatches the gambeson from the ground and wraps it around me. I’m trembling hard, but I still shake my head and pull away. He may be used to harsh winter weather, but that doesn’t mean he should be exposed to the elements with no more than a thin tunic and bloody leather breeches.
He draws the soft armor tight around me regardless, and I pour every bit of my frustration into my stare. He moves nearer, holding the gambeson’s collar on either side, just beneath my chin.
He leans close, dark hair falling around his serious face. “You’ve saved my life twice, Raina Bloodgood. Wise or not, and though you certainly know how to stoke the darker side of me, I’m eternally indebted to you. The very least I can do is keep you warm.”
I suppose it isn’t awful to have a man like Alexus Thibault indebted to me, but I want nothing more from him than his aid in reaching my sister.
I certainly don’t want this closeness or the way his nearness makes my heart beat harder.
I don’t want to act like a stupid little girl from the vale caught up in a beautiful man’s presence, beguiled by his absorbing gaze.
I’m a grown woman who can think around such nonsense.
I remind myself of this fact, but I must be delirious from the cold, because right now, being held like this, I find every single thing about him intoxicating.
Flushed and hating myself, I step back, and he lets me go. I keep the gambeson, but only because I don’t want him touching me again. I do, however, remember the blanket from Littledenn rolled up on Mannus’s back.
I free it from the saddle, shake it out, and step toward Alexus, about to wrap the cover around him the way he wrapped the gambeson around me. I hesitate, choosing to keep my distance, and hand it to him instead.
“Thank you. I feel better already.” He drapes the blanket over his shoulders and looks around once more, his green gaze hanging on the lake. “We have to cross to the other side. Unless you have a different suggestion. Your magick, perhaps?”
I shake my head. His cloak bunches in the gambeson’s sleeves when I slip my arms inside, and though the barrier to the wind feels so damn good, my fingers are still too cold for forming lyrics, and I’m spent from fighting and healing and walking in this unbearable weather—in too-small shoes no less.
I’m not keen to experiment with magick on a frozen lake.
It would require something grand, and I don’t have that in me.
The look on Alexus’s face tells me that he understands. He gathers the rope I’d used to tie him earlier and nuzzles Mannus’s nose as the animal’s ears flick back and forth with nervous energy. Tuck is agitated, too, pawing the ground like she wants to run, yet there’s nowhere to go.
“We take the horses,” Alexus says. “I cannot leave them.”
My stomach tightens with dread. He’s right, and it would destroy me to leave Mannus and Tuck behind, too, but…“They will require influence,” I tell him.
The thought of the animals fighting us or stamping on the ice sends my pulse racing. It’s dangerous enough with their weight. There’s little to be done for it except to hope the ice holds, because once we’re out there, any disaster won’t leave time for magick.
Alexus strokes a hand over his horse’s head and down his long neck. “Can you try? Maybe a simple calming spell?”
My fingers are so unbearably stiff that they feel brittle. I struggle, gasping at the pain in my knuckles. Thankfully, the words for bringing ease aren’t complex, a small cantrip of only three words I’ve used before.
Mala, mulco, calla.
On the third attempt, my fingers soften and bend around the shape of the ancient, elegant language, forming a tiny ball of white light. I repeat the words thrice more and push the uncomplicated construct toward the horses.
It disperses into glimmering threads above them, trickling like rain and vanishing into their manes with the falling snow. In seconds, they settle.
Lowering my hands, I notice that Alexus’s eyes are fixed on me, unblinking, as if I’ve bewitched him. His lashes flutter, and he clears his throat.
“What?” I slip my hands back to the warmth under my arms.
“Nothing,” he replies with a small shake of his head. “Your magick is just really beautiful.”
I tighten my fingers, unsure how to respond, not wanting to say anything because my hands are so cold.
Thankfully, Alexus takes the reins and leads us toward the lakeshore’s edge.
Side by side, we stand where tumbled stones meet frost and ice, staring over the glacial terrain.
We share a glance, a moment of understanding for what we’re about to do.
Then we step onto the ice.