Chapter 11
It doesn’t fully hit me that Fox is planning to follow me all the way to Thermia until nightfall, when we have to check into an inn.
We walk for hours, crossing the border just after dusk. I’m starting to worry that I may have to camp outside when finally we reach a small village. “Village” might be an exaggeration, actually—there can’t be more than fifty people in the entire town, but at least they have an inn.
The wolf whines, pawing the ground and shaking his head.
I frown, unmoved. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m going in to get something to eat. If I were you, I would go home.”
I only feel the tiniest bit of guilt when I step into the warm inn, letting the door slam on the wolf. I mean, on Fox.
“The wolf is not an animal that I need to save,” I mutter to Eugene, who is once again riding on my shoulder. “He’s not even a wolf. He’s a fully grown man who can take care of himself, and has chosen to stalk me all the way to another kingdom. I do not need to feel guilty about this.”
Eugene lifts his head in weary acknowledgement, then flops back down on my shoulder.
“I swear to any gods that are listening, if you turn out to be a shifter too I will let Alix’s cat eat you.”
He doesn’t react to that, which I take to be a good sign.
Keeping my head high, I approach the man behind the long bar and ask if they have any rooms available. He does, and I spend an uncomfortable night tossing and turning, my mind racing and unable to quiet.
I feel impossibly guilty that Fox is still outside, even though I assume he’s fine out there. It’s certainly cold out, but the wolf is about four times larger than an average wolf and with his thick white coat, looked as if he was born to live in the snow. Which, I suppose, he was.
More importantly, it’s not my responsibility what Fox does. He could freeze to death and it would be no one’s fault but his own.
Still, I barely get an hour of sleep for the second night in a row, so by the morning I’m tired and agitated. Sensing my mood, Eugene makes himself scarce, hiding deep in the bottom of my satchel.
It’s just past dawn when I leave the inn and step out into the cold Thermian air.
It’s winter in Vernallis too, but I swear the moment we crossed the border the temperature dropped by half.
I’m glad to have the red cloak, and wrap it more tightly around myself as I march down the empty street heading north.
Before I’ve walked ten paces, a low whistle cuts through the frigid air. “Going somewhere?”
I stop, turning to find a figure leaning against the weathered boards of the inn. Fox smirks at me, one boot propped against the wall, arms folded across his chest.
“What did you do, run all the way back to Vernallis to get your clothes?” I ask sharply, taking in his familiar armor and the twin swords strapped to his back. “That’s insane. You should have just stayed there.”
Icy gaze still fixed on me, he pushes off the building and closes the space between us in two strides. “If you’re insistent on this suicide mission, I’m going with you.”
“No,” I snap, too tired to think of anything more intelligent to say. “You can’t. The wolf was bad enough, but I’m not okay with this.” I gesture vaguely at him, indicating his very male, not at all wolf-like body.
“What are you going to do?” he smirks. “You can’t beat me in a fight, you’re never going to convince me—”
I put a hand up to cut him off. “Alright, I’ve got it.”
He presses his lips together in a flat line, which I swear is hiding a smug smile. Asshole.
I throw my hands up. “Fine, do whatever you want, but Thermia is a big place. You don’t even know where I’m going or why.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It should,” I snap. “Did Beatrix put you up to this?”
His brow furrows. “Does Beatrix know where you are?”
“Yes. If she told Daemon and Alix and they sent you or…”
“No one sent me.”
“That’s worse! What will everyone think when they notice we’ve both disappeared? What about the army?”
“The army can run itself for a while,” he says flatly. “And if they can’t, I’ll know they’re never going to function in a real battle.”
“What about everyone else? Daemon and Alix, Jett, Kas and Odessa…”
“You’re right, they’ll worry,” he says sardonically. “That seems like a good reason to go home.”
I scowl. “I don’t like…whatever this is.”
“What?”
“This,” I gesture vaguely at him again. “You. You’re in a surprisingly good mood considering I am telling you I do not want you here. I do not want to talk to you. Please leave me the fuck alone.”
“And you’re in a surprisingly bad mood,” he retorts, disregarding the rest of my statement. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘fuck’ before.”
“Oh, really? I wonder what could possibly be fucking wrong.”
He can’t keep himself from smiling at that, and the dimple appears in his cheek. It only infuriates me more.
My mood doesn’t improve as I trudge through the woods, Fox following closely behind me.
We walk for hours, the frigid air seeming to grow colder by the hour.
Eventually, it begins to snow. The wind tears through the skeletal branches overhead, a mournful howl that seems to chase us between the trees.
Enormous white flakes quickly accumulate, and our boots sink with every step as the snow piles up around us.
Despite my cloak, the cold seeps through to my bones, sending an involuntary shudder rippling across my shoulders.
Fox glances over at me. “You’re cold.”
“No,” I lie. “I’m fine.”
“I’m surprised you’re not making the air around you warm.”
I open my mouth to respond, then falter. Wait a minute—I’m also surprised I didn’t think to do that. The only explanation is that I’m tired. Or…maybe it’s that I’m used to avoiding magic around Fox.
Well, there’s no need to bother anymore. If he doesn’t like magic he can always go home.
I flex my fingers and warmth blooms across my skin like sunlight, melting the numbness from my fingertips. Fox’s eyes narrow. I don’t bother asking if he wants me to extend the bubble of heat to him as well. I know he won’t.
We walk in silence for another half an hour.
Eventually we break out of the trees and onto something that resembles a main road.
There are snowy fields on either side, and mountains in the distance.
I peer across the nearest field, searching for the outline of a town or smoke from a chimney.
There’s nothing. Come to think of it, I’m somewhat surprised that we haven’t run into anyone since leaving the last village.
I clear my throat. “Do you know where the next nearest village is?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral despite my irritation.
Fox’s eyes flick to me, one eyebrow raised. “Since I don’t know where we’re going,” he says with exaggerated patience, “no, I don’t.”
I clench my jaw, agitated. “We’re going north.”
“This is Thermia, everything is fucking north,” he mutters.
I don’t want to tell him anything, but I’m becoming resigned to the fact that for whatever reason he doesn’t seem to want to leave me. It’s confusing, given that he also doesn’t want to be with me, but I try not to think about that.
“We’re going to the palace,” I say finally.
He stops and turns to me. “No.”
“Are we going to go through this again?” I say, crossing my arms. “You don’t have to come. In fact, I’d prefer you don’t, but I’m going to the palace and you can’t stop me.”
“I don’t have to stop you,” he says, his voice low. “They will.”
“Who?” I demand.
Fox’s eyes narrow. “The palace guards, the queen, take your pick. No one goes anywhere near that palace.”
“So you’ve been there?” I ask, unable to hide my interest.
“I’ve been near it,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “but no. No one goes in or out and they haven’t for decades.”
My heart quickens. “How long exactly?” I ask, leaning forward despite myself.
Fox studies my face, suspicion creeping into his expression. “I don’t know. Why?”
I bite my lip. I don’t want to tell him this either, but there’s no good way to avoid it. If he’s going to stick around and refuses to leave, he’ll figure it out.
We start walking again, covering at least another half a mile as I give him the shortest possible version of the story Beatrix told me—about the twin I never knew about and how my mother might still be alive.
I explain the lights and how they happen every year on my birthday, and how Beatrix thinks that maybe, my mother might have something to do with the mysterious Thermian queen.
“No,” Fox says flatly when I’m done.
“No, what?”
“To all of it.” He raises a frustrated hand and brushes snow out of his hair, then his jaw tightens as he steps closer to be heard over the howling wind. “You cannot go anywhere near that palace. I mean that literally—they are going to kill you from a distance before you even get close.”
My mouth opens to argue, but a sound cuts through the air that makes my retort die in my throat.
The sound is high and piercing and so loud that I can hear it clearly over the sound of the howling wind. I clap my hands over my ears as the shriek continues, rising in pitch until it seems to scrape against the inside of my head like talons.
Fox goes stiff beside me. “Wyvern,” he mutters. “Fucking wonderful.”
“Where?” I demand, turning in a circle, scanning the sky and trees around us.
Fox doesn’t answer me. He just draws his sword with a metallic hiss.
I pull out my own blade, gripping the hilt tightly, but I still can’t see what he’s looking at.
Another screech pierces the air and an enormous creature lands in the center of the snowy field along the left side of the road.
I can’t quite process what I’m seeing—it’s like a small dragon, or maybe a very large eagle. Its body seems reptilian, but feathers cover parts of its legs and torso, and a hooked beak juts from its face like a bird of prey.