Chapter XXVII
XXVII.
We exhale together as we take it all in, and Nate lets out a low whistle.
The structure is massive and made entirely of ice. Even through the battering storm, it stands tall. It’s at least two stories high with multiple towers and parapets bursting from the roof, shimmering like blue glass against the sky.
A large door is carved into the front, flanked by arched windows. The light breaks against their panes, casting rainbow spheres across the snow. White powder blankets the roof and towers, sparkling like glitter through the storm.
“Diripo told me Father had it made for my mother.” I swallow the lump building in my throat. “He wanted to give her one beautiful thing down here. It was supposed to be their holiday getaway. She never saw it, though. I was told she died before he could give it to her, but that was a lie.”
“He must’ve really loved her.” Nate’s breath and mine mingle in the air as we breathe in succession. “It looks like something out of a Disney movie. I half expect Elsa to burst out of that door yelling at us to ‘let it go.’”
I lick my lips and exhale a puff of white.
“I saw it for the first time when Father showed me the kingdom as a kid. I begged him to let me live here, but he said no one ever will. Then he got this weird look on his face and rushed me out of here.” I kick at the ground with my boot, chipping a dent in the ice.
“I’m surprised it’s still here. I figured he’d have it demolished.
Why leave something up that upsets him?”
Nate rubs his forearms. “Maybe he couldn’t bear to tear it down. You said he had an album filled with photos of your mom. It sounds like he never gave up on her memory.”
“Maybe.” I squint at the castle, as though Father’s secrets are etched into the ice. “I wish he’d talked to me about her, but that’s not Father. I’d have more luck getting you to go five minutes without cracking a terrible joke.” I smirk at him.
He winks back with ice-coated eyelashes. “Since my jokes are never terrible, I’d say you’ve succeeded.”
I shake my head, then press my lips together and study the castle door. “I’ve never been inside. Hopefully we can get in.”
“You don’t know if it’s locked?”
I shrug. “No idea. Guess we’ll find out together.”
As we approach the castle, the storm calms, and the blustering snow thins from a blinding curtain to a translucent veil.
The fire from my hand sputters, protesting at my overuse of its powers, and I shake my fingers and curse.
Would’ve been nice if Mr. B. had warned me my powers have a battery life.
At least the snow is only up to our ankles now, so we walk side by side, my heart quickening the closer we get to the door.
I have no idea what’s inside—whether Father’s hidden more clues about my mother there, or if it’s as empty as his bedroom.
For all I know, he could’ve filled it with souldiers in anticipation of our visit.
“Your dad never told you what your mom did to betray him?” Nate asks. “Like, even if he lied about it?”
I shake my head. “He shut me down every time I brought her up. I used to think it was grief. Now I wonder if he wasn’t confident enough to lie to my face about her.”
“Huh.” He shoves his hands deep into his jacket pockets and lifts his shoulders to his ears. “Imagine the Prince of Lies being horrible at lying.”
I spin the ring around my finger, the ruby catching the white glare of the snow, and mutter, “He was good enough to convince me she wasn’t alive for seventeen years.”
“Yeah, that’s not cool.” Nate stops and listens. His eyes widen as he slowly turns to look behind us. “Uh… Dev?”
“Yeah?” I don’t slow my pace. We’re so close to the castle now, I can already see myself relaxing on whatever furniture is in there, my dress and hair finally dry for once.
“Remember how you mentioned we didn’t have to worry about the sinners here because they’re locked up?”
“Of course.”
He grabs my arm and spins me around. “Maybe the rules have changed.”
I suck in a lungful of cold air and cough as it burns through my lungs.
Shadelings stumble toward us from all sides, scarlet rags that were once new jumpsuits hanging off their bodies, revealing patches of blue and purple skin.
Some limp on one leg or reach for us with a single arm, their limbs surrendered to frostbite, eyes blank as the snow that crunches like bones beneath our boots.
“How did they open their gates?” I whisper. My fingers fly to the hilt of my sword, and I wince as the icy metal stings my skin. “They’re not strong enough. Only demons can do that.”
I scan the snow, my hand tightening on my blade as I hold my breath in anticipation at the appearance of Ferus—or worse, my father.
“I don’t think that’s our biggest problem right now,” Nate mumbles. “Look.”
I follow his gaze over my shoulder, where another cluster of shadelings staggers from their lot, calling out gibberish as they spy us.
They’ll have us surrounded in seconds. Between us, we have one sword, a dagger wielded by a boy who can barely keep his teeth from chattering, and my fire that hasn’t fully charged yet.
Not exactly a plethora of weaponry against the descending army.
“Run, Nate. Head for the castle.”
I charge through the snow without pausing to make sure he’s behind me. The snow’s not deep, but my icy clothing weighs me down. Reaching for the hem of my dress, I tug it from my legs, and it releases from my skin with a crack.
I’m halfway to the castle when my foot catches on a chunk of ice. Pain shoots through my leg as I stumble to the ground with a cry. Snow fills my nose and mouth, suffocating me. I cough and sputter as I wipe it off my face.
“Devica!” Nate drops to my side. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” I spit out a chunk of snow, then place a hand on his shoulder and pull myself up. Searing pain blasts up my calf the moment I put weight on my foot, and I scream and lean into him. “My ankle. I think I twisted it. Just give me a minute, I’ll be fine.”
“We don’t have a minute,” Nate says. “They’re pretty fast for being cryogenic.”
As if on cue, a hand missing two fingers clamps onto my shoulder, and I shriek as the icy appendage pricks my skin. Nate rips the sword out of my belt and strikes. The shadeling’s head tumbles off and sinks into the snow, wide eyes still blinking.
I gape at him. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Holy crap.” Nate studies the blade. “This is sharper than I thought. I was aiming to wound them, not decapitate them. They’ll be okay, right?”
“They’ll be fine.” The shadelings creep closer, reaching for us with rotting flesh. I grit my teeth. “But we won’t be if we don’t get inside and block them off.”
He glances at my foot. “Can you walk?”
“Of course.” I take a step, but my ankle shrieks and I tumble forward. Nate’s grip tightens, saving me from eating another faceful of snow. I mash my jaw and bite back a scream of frustration. “I’ll just hop.”
“Then they’ll catch you for sure.” Nate slips the sword back into my belt. “I know you said you’d throw me into the Igloo River for this, but I’m gonna take my chances.” He scoops me out of the snow and clutches me in front of him the way humans cradle their young.
My ankle burns with the movement, and I open my mouth to tell him off, but the pain eases once I’ve settled in his arms.
I loop my arms around his neck and speak into his chest, “You tell anyone about this, and I will throw you into the Ignis River, got it?”
“Got it.”
Nate rushes through the snow, his jaw tight as he navigates around a chunk of ice. His grip is secure, and he doesn’t shake with the effort of lugging me through the snow. I allow myself to sink deeper into his arms and bury my face in his neck as the storm picks up and lashes our bodies.
We’re trailed by the sounds of chattering teeth and cracking bones, and I wince. I don’t need to see them to feel their pain. It pulses as strongly as my ankle. Stupid human side of me making me feel.
Nate grunts with every step, his gaze on the castle, blinking against the snow.
This is the most vulnerable I’ve been with a human.
Even more than having him dig glass out of my back.
At any point, he could realize I’m the liability here and toss me away.
If he took my sword and was fast enough, he could be out of Nix before my ankle’s healed.
And that’s assuming I’m able to fight off the shadelings clamoring behind us.
But he doesn’t drop me. Instead, he pulls me closer to his chest, shielding me from the wind and the snowballs the shadelings are hurling in our direction.
I don’t need his protection. We both know that. But warmth blooms in my chest at the realization that I don’t mind having it.
We reach the door, Nate panting in short, white bursts. I peek over his shoulder as a snowball explodes against the wall beside my head. The shadelings are only a few feet away, and they’ve armed themselves not only with snow, but with jagged chunks of ice.
“Nate, hurry.” My voice comes out a breathless whisper, even though he was the one running. “Open the door.”
He shifts me in his arms, and I press my lips together as pain rips up my leg. Then he reaches for the door handle and pulls. It doesn’t budge. He takes a deep breath and pushes this time, grunting and gritting his teeth. Nothing.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a key, would you? It’s locked.”
I swallow a lungful of freezing air and scowl. “That’d be a hard no. I’m guessing Father has the only one.”
“Well, that’s entirely unhelpful.”
The shadelings let out an eerie sound that resembles laughter, their teeth clattering in their mouths. Nate unsuccessfully pushes and pulls at the door as their screams crescendo, and a chunk of ice slices my arm before shattering at his feet.
My body goes rigid as Nate gives up on the door and faces the shadelings.
Then they descend.