13
Having reached an agreement with the ice dragons, Kurt and Malea didn’t waste time. They left the ice cave and headed back to the horses, the virkin flying alongside and above their heads.
“So, where do we start?” Malea asked as they mounted the horses.
“We can go back to the village and see if we can pick up a trail there,” Kurt said, his lips twisting as he seemed to think about their options.
“I suppose,” Malea agreed, not too happy with that either.
That’s when Keera and Arch swooped down to land on the rock in front of them. Malea just watched, wondering what the little creatures wanted to say.
The two virkin stepped forward, their small forms elegant and composed despite the cold. Keera’s silver-tipped wings fluttered as she bowed slightly. “Now that the dragons have agreed to assist, we believe it is time to tell you something.”
Malea frowned, exchanging a look with Kurt. “Go on.”
Arch stepped up to speak. “The magic being used to grow the diamonds is something we can try to follow.”
“You can?” Kurt asked, eyes narrowing in surprise.
“Yes,” Keera said simply. “At least to give you the general direction. As we draw closer, we can pinpoint it better. We can probably direct you to the place where the diamond crystals are being grown, where the concentration of magic is strongest.”
“I had no idea you could do such things,” Malea said, feeling a bit in awe of the virkin and their mysterious abilities.
“We suspected something like this might be involved. Rogue magic,” Arch said, his wings folding tightly along his back.
“That is why we insisted on traveling with you both. We could sense the echoes of the growing magic even before we left the city, but now, it’s stronger.
Closer. If we follow it, we will find the source. ”
Malea’s heart pounded in her chest. “That will be a really big help. If we find the source of the diamonds, we’ll likely find the artisans.”
“And hopefully, who is behind them,” Kurt added grimly.
Keera’s eyes met hers, glowing softly. “We should go soon. They are doing the magic now. We both feel it. And whatever magic they’re using, it’s intensifying.”
Malea felt a strange thrill settle in her chest. “Then that’s it. We follow the magic. We follow you.”
Kurt looked toward the ice dragons’ cave behind them. “And once we have all the locations we can possibly find, the ice dragons can strike.”
The virkin nodded as one. Their wings rustled as if in agreement.
“We’ve come this far,” Malea said, straightening her shoulders. “Let’s finish this.”
*
The cold wind picked up without warning, slicing through the heavy layers Kurt wore. At first, the wind was just a sharper-than-usual gust, but within moments, the sky turned from pale blue to steel gray. Clouds rolled in fast and low, curling around the mountains.
Arch circled back and landed on a snow-covered outcrop just ahead. The little creature had trouble navigating the tempestuous winds but managed to land and fold his wings to prevent himself from being blown away again by the next gust.
“Storm comes quickly. Must find shelter,” the little green virkin said, shaking his head.
Keera landed beside him, her blue scales shimmering like frost in the dim light. “We’ll look for a good place,” she said confidently.
Kurt reined in his mount and turned in the saddle to glance at Malea.
Her hood had blown back slightly, and strands of her blonde hair danced around her face as she squinted into the wind.
Even bundled in wool and furs, she looked too delicate to be out here in this sudden squall, though he knew better.
She may look delicate, but she was more capable than most people—male or female.
She met his eyes and nodded without complaint, her jaw set with quiet resolve.
“They’re right. We need shelter. This feels like it’s just ramping up to a worse storm before it eventually dissipates,” he called to her over the rising wind.
“I trust your judgment. Let’s follow the virkin,” Malea agreed, her expression grim.
They pressed on, snow beginning to fall in earnest. Visibility dropped, and the trail became harder to read. Kurt felt the unease settle deep in his bones. It wasn’t fear exactly, but a sort of primal caution that said nature was about to take charge.
“This way!” Arch made a small trumpeting sound that was easily heard through the gale up ahead.
The two small virkin darted forward through the trees, skimming low beneath the white-dusted boughs. Kurt guided the horses after them, casting frequent glances back to make sure Malea was still visible behind him. Her horse trudged steadily through the drifts and didn’t falter.
The mare was a sturdy beast, which was why he’d chosen to bring old Snowflake along as a packhorse on this trip.
She liked cold weather and didn’t complain.
Kurt had traveled with her before and thought she was aptly named given her coloring, which was mostly gray with white splotches.
She was a safe mount for Malea. Still, he couldn’t shake the instinct to watch out for her.
And the sudden storm gave him even more reason.
“Almost there. We found a structure. An old hunting shack, maybe,” Keera’s voice chimed through their minds delicately.
Kurt’s heart lifted slightly. With luck, it would have a roof. Maybe even a hearth.
“Stay close!” he called again to Malea, urgency edging into his voice. “We’re going to make it.”
The trees thickened, offering some relief from the wind as Kurt urged his horse up the narrow, snow-laden trail the virkin had discovered. Just ahead, Arch called out again, this time with unmistakable excitement in his trilling vocalization.
Kurt saw it a few seconds later, partially obscured by a snow drift and nestled in the crook of two great pine trees.
The old structure was small and weathered but intact.
A single-room shack, built of rough-cut logs, its roof bowed only slightly under a thick blanket of snow.
He guessed smoke hadn’t risen from its chimney in quite some time, but the stones of it still stood tall and solid.
Kurt swung down from his saddle and stomped through the snow toward the door. The wind howled at his back as he tested the latch. To his relief, it opened with a groan, revealing a dim interior that smelled of dry rot and dust.
“This will do nicely,” he said, glancing around.
Malea dismounted a few paces behind him, leading her mare into the lee of the shack. Keera fluttered down onto her shoulder, shaking off snow as Arch landed on the roof and looked around.
“What can we do for the horses?” Malea asked Kurt as he led his horse closer.
“Did you see the lean-to on the side by the chimney? That should shield them from the worst of the storm, and they’ll have the warm stones from our fire on the other side of the hearth. You go inside. I’ll get the horses settled.”
He took the reins of both horses and led them out of the snow and wind, into the little space beside the cold chimney.
Those stones wouldn’t be cold for much longer if he had anything to say about it.
He smiled when he saw a small stack of firewood left from the previous occupant of the shack stacked neatly in one corner of the lean-to.
Settling the horses and grabbing an armful of the firewood, he headed back to the door of the small cabin, feeling much better about their chances for comfort as the storm raged outside.
By the time he entered the shack, brushing snow from his shoulders, Malea had already started making the inside more livable.
She’d apparently found some kindling by the hearth and was coaxing a tiny fire to life with practiced ease.
Her face glowed with reflected light, and her cloak steamed gently as the snow melted off her.
“I found a stack of wood,” he told her as he entered. She looked up from her work, her eyes going wide as she took in the bounty of firewood in his arms.
Kurt shut the door against the rising wind and turned to take her in for a moment. Strong. Calm. Unflinching. And so very beautiful.
He crossed the room and set down the wood near the hearth, then knelt beside her to help.
“Sure you weren’t a fire mage in a past life?” he asked softly, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.
She laughed quietly, the sound warming him more than the flames. “No magic needed. Just patience and dry kindling.”
They sat side by side, silent for a while, feeding small logs into the newborn fire at first, then following that with larger chunks of wood.
As the fire crackled and filled the room with blessed heat, Kurt began to relax.
Finding this old cabin had been a gift from the Goddess. No doubt about that.
The storm battered the walls, but inside the little shack, it was warm, quiet, and—for the moment, at least—safe.
*
Sometime later, the fire had burned to a steady, golden heat, throwing flickering shadows along the rough-hewn walls.
Kurt had gone outside a few more times to get their packs and provisions, and more firewood.
He’d also checked on the horses, glad to note that as the chimney heated from inside the cabin, their little lean-to had become much more comfortable for them as well.
He left them grain and water and brushed their coats so they would be as comfortable as possible, then went back inside the shack as the storm intensified.
He’d shrugged off his damp cloak and draped it over a hook near the hearth. His tunic was wet at the shoulders and sleeves, so he pulled that off too, settling close to the fire in his undershirt to dry.
Malea did the same across from him, her cheeks flushed from the cold and firelight. Her braid was dripping, so she unbound it, running her fingers through the glistening strands. The sight struck him still.