Chapter 29
A menacing sky filled with dark, angry clouds hovered over Manu and his soldiers. Another storm was about to unleash upon them. Each of them was equipped to handle the volatile weather, but it wasn’t the impending blizzard that vexed him. It was the letter from Jalall delivered that morning.
Or rather the note that claimed to be from his friend.
Manu pushed northeast. They’d had to put their snowblades on to trek through the thigh-deep snow. It was slow-going, but that was nothing new for any of them. Yet Manu chafed at their sluggish pace. Jalall was in trouble, and he needed to get to him quickly.
Navara and all those within the mountain were secure from any threats.
Manu and his team were a different story.
They kept off the peaks to remain out of sight, but that couldn’t last forever.
Eventually, they would have to cross a mountain, but he had chosen one with boulders to shield them the majority of the way.
They just needed to reach it before the storm unleashed its fury.
He ducked his head against the ever-increasing wind and plowed forward, one foot in front of the other as bits of ice pelted any exposed skin.
He raised the fur around his lower face as his thoughts turned to Inej.
His body hungered for her as if he were starving.
She was never far from his thoughts, and, worse, he couldn’t stop seeking her out.
It didn’t matter that she was human. Nay, what unsettled him was the nagging feeling that she knew more about Shaldorn and the Masters than she let on.
At first, he’d thought he was being overly cautious and seeing enemies everywhere.
Now, he wondered if he was falling for the enemy.
Because he was falling for her. There was no getting around that fact.
Unease trickled over Manu. He halted and looked to his right up the slope, catching sight of someone just as they ducked behind a boulder.
There was a shout from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw his team fending off an attack that came from their flank.
He spun, dropping to one knee as he raised his hands and released a blast of magic from both palms to help his warriors.
He jerked around at the sound of a loud crack, expecting an attack from the front, but there was none.
A sense of dread filled him when a second booming crack sounded.
Manu looked up at the towering peak above them and saw the shelf of snow splitting in half.
There was a moment of silence before the ridge broke off and thundered aggressively down the slope.
“Avalanche!” he shouted.
Everyone scattered as fast as their snowblades would let them. The safest place was just ahead, where a large overhang of rock could protect him, but there was no way he would get to it in time. His next option was about fifty feet below. He wouldn’t make that either.
Manu darted to his left, hoping to get clear. He heard his team yelling, but their voices were soon drowned out by the hissing of the snow, rock, ice, and soil as it rumbled swiftly and violently toward them.
He glanced toward the wave of white descending far too quickly and tried to brace himself by dropping to his knees and hugging his arms against his body.
The impact was unforgiving, mercilessly sweeping him up in the snow and tossing him about.
The world was white as it spun haphazardly.
Snow was shoved into his mouth, nose, and ears as he tumbled inside the landslide.
His arms and legs were yanked in different directions, as if the snow were attempting to rip him apart.
That pain was soon forgotten as he crashed into a rock, bending him backward until his head slammed against it.
Agony radiated from the base of his skull and throughout his body as he was swept away once more and lost consciousness.
Manu gradually came to buried beneath the snow.
His left arm was twisted awkwardly behind him.
For several minutes, he didn’t move as he tried to take stock of his body.
The snow was pressed too close to his face.
He needed room to breathe, but more than that, he needed to dig himself out.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure which way was up.
He shifted his right shoulder to dislodge some of the snow so he could wiggle the arm beneath him.
Eventually, he was able to move his hand up near his chest. He then turned his palm outward and called to his magic, using only a fragment of it at a time to break through the ice to create space around him.
Once that was done, he drew in a deep breath.
Time was running out, though. He had no idea how long he had been buried.
The longer he remained covered, the less likely his chances of survival.
The space he created allowed him to turn over so he could attempt to lay on his back.
That small movement sent spasms of pain through his twisted arm.
Manu clenched his teeth and gripped his injured arm with his other hand. Then he gradually righted the limb until it was against his abdomen. He realized he was breathing much too fast and attempted to slow his inhales and exhales until the worst of the discomfort had passed.
What he needed was herbs. He used his right hand to feel around him for the belt beneath his coat where he kept the herbs and a water flask.
But it wasn’t there. He lifted his head to look down and saw that his coat had been ripped apart, and the belt was gone.
Not only didn’t he have the herbs, but he also didn’t have water.
This wasn’t his first avalanche, nor was it the first time he had been buried. It also wasn’t the first time he’d had items ripped from him. He blinked up at the snow above him, wondering if that was the way out, or if it was in another direction. It was impossible to tell.
He touched the back of his head and winced at the contact. When he pulled his fingers away, they were covered in blood. That explained his aching head. He had one good arm, his legs, and magic. That was all he needed to get free.
Manu pulled his knees up to him, only to bellow at the throbbing in his right ankle.
He gripped his thigh and rode the worst of the pain until he could think clearly again.
That pain was worse than his arm, which wasn’t a good sign.
His right hand shook as he lifted it and watched thick, bronze beams shoot from his palm in pulses as he carefully chipped away at the snow to create an arc over his legs.
When he got as far as he could, he returned his attention to the ice above him and made that area bigger so he could sit up. The act of rising was another excruciating moment that made his stomach roil dangerously. But once he was up, he saw the state of his ankle and the blood coloring the snow.
He stared at the bits of muscle and cartilage that kept his foot connected to his leg.
His snowblades had been ripped off, which was likely the cause of his ankle injury.
Getting free had just become that much harder.
If he moved, he could lose his foot, but if he stayed, he would surely die.
He suspected the avalanche hadn’t been an accident.
It didn’t matter if it was the Masters’ goons or mercenaries, someone wanted him dead.
But they would have to do better. As long as he was breathing, he was fighting.
Manu tugged off what remained of his coat, then used his hands to scoot himself closer to his injured ankle. He had to bind it somehow, and the only thing he had was his jacket. He took a deep breath and leaned forward. Sweat beaded his brow from the agony the simple movement caused.
Since he only had the use of one arm, he had to shift his leg a few inches to the left to use the snow to help hold up his foot so he could work with his right hand. It seemed simple enough until his muscles tightened, and he tried to lift his leg.
Manu fought against the rising bile and the black dots edging his vision. He couldn’t lose consciousness again. Every second was one closer to death. If he stopped, if he gave up, it was over.
Little by little, he moved his leg to where he needed it. Next came lifting his foot. By hand.
He did it in one motion. Manu swallowed his shout of pain, focusing on his breathing instead to stay conscious.
He had two of the three steps completed.
Now, all he had to do was wrap his coat around his foot to keep it in place.
All of which was harder than he’d anticipated.
It took four attempts before he found a way to not only hold his foot but also keep the coat in place.
It was fine now, but it wouldn’t hold up while walking.
It was getting harder to breathe. He could wait no longer.
He had to start digging himself out. Manu looked up at the snow packed above him.
It seemed the logical place to start. If that way was up.
He didn’t feel as if he were upside down, but he was disoriented, in pain, and quickly running out of air.
He adjusted his position as magic filled his palm.
He directed it at an angle above him in case the snow and ice fell in—at least it wouldn’t fall directly on his head.
As he worked, he pictured Inej baking with flour on her face, her brown eyes alight with contentment.
She was a different woman when she was in her element.
She glowed from within. Baking was her passion, her calling.
That was when she let her guard down. It was also the first time he had seen her smile.
It hadn’t been a bright one, but one of inner joy. A true smile that lit her from within.
What would become of her if he didn’t make it back? Would she remain in Navara? Would she miss him?
An hour into digging, and Manu had made little progress. He increased the amount of magic he used, but that in and of itself brought dangers of a cave-in. He didn’t know if the rest of his team was even alive. They might be waiting on him. Then there was Jalall and his men waiting for his help.
Manu dropped his arm to his side. The air was too thin.
He wasn’t going to make it. There was no way around that.
He had so many things he wanted to say to Inej that would never get said now.
He fell back into the snow, his gaze locking on the small hole he had made in the ice.
He could be three inches from freedom or three feet. It was impossible to tell.
Any others from Navara who came looking for them would see the evidence of the avalanche and put the pieces together, but without a leader, it was likely no one would go after Jalall. His eyes were getting heavy. Too bad there wasn’t a way for Dain to find him.
A thought attempted to intrude. Manu focused on it, but everything was hazy. Then he remembered. Gathering the last of his strength, he called out, “Rhi.”
Iron Hall
Rhi found a stash of freshly baked bread and stole a loaf.
She brought it to her nose and inhaled the wonderful, yeasty aroma.
Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She was eating for two now and couldn’t seem to stop stuffing her face.
Con kept saying how adorable it was. Though he hadn’t found it so cute when she refused to share her food with him the night before.
“We’ll see if he finds me adorable when I’m the size of a house,” she whispered before pulling off a section of bread and stuffing it into her mouth.
She was chewing when she heard her name being called and recognized Manu’s voice. She forgot about the bread and teleported to Con in the great hall of the underground city. He was in the middle of a conversation with several other Dragon Kings when he caught sight of her and stopped mid-sentence.
“It’s Manu. He called to me. Something’s wrong.
I hear it in his voice,” she alerted him before teleporting to the Mountain Elf’s location on the side of a frozen mountain.
She wouldn’t usually take that small amount of time, but with her carrying their child, she owed it to both of them to let him know where she was going.
The moment the frigid wind whipped into her, she used her magic to create some attire to keep herself warm. She stared in shock at the destruction from the avalanche in all directions. Her gaze snagged on fur poking through the snow thirty feet away.
Rhi dropped to her knees and began digging, her magic having taken her directly to Manu. When her fingers became too numb, she used magic, but she never stopped. She should’ve brought Con with her, because she was afraid Manu might need Con’s ability to heal.
Her muscles strained as she shoved aside ice, going deeper and deeper as she revealed more of the fur that she soon recognized as a coat.
Then, she spotted the dark splotches of blood and quickened her pace.
A few moments later, and she uncovered his leg.
Her breath puffed around her as she worked until she finally uncovered his face.