Chapter 19
TAMSYN
WE WOKE TO CLEAR SKIES.
Kerstin gave a cry of delighted relief as she got to her feet. “Finally!”
I felt a stab of urgency at the sight. If the sun was out, that meant the pride would be, too. “Come,” I said hurriedly, “we must be on our way.”
“What about breakfast?”
I fished out bread from my knapsack and tore it in half, thrusting a piece at her. “There. We can eat as we walk. Let’s get moving.”
She pouted but started packing up.
The squall might have passed, but it left drifts of snow everywhere. We sank up to our knees with every step. It was slow going, and after a few hours I was reminded that a couple weeks ago I’d been close to death.
My breaths fell in labored pants, and I perspired beneath my garments. Every time I felt my energy flagging, I thought of Fell and my motivation renewed.
Kerstin complained endlessly as she worked to keep up. “Why can we not fly? We will cover so much more ground that way. Can’t you feel Fell from up in the air, as well as on foot?”
She knew about our connection, that since my svefn, I had felt him as never before—as though I’d found him there in that hazy state between life and death. When I’d woken up in the infirmary, a part of him had returned with me.
I flexed my hand, stretching out my gloved fingers. “I can,” I said. “But if we fly, we could be sighted.”
Kerstin grunted in acknowledgment as she trudged along, her cheeks glowing pink from exertion.
She knew I was right. As a dragon born to this world, she did not need me to point this out to her.
We could not risk being spotted by the pride, who were undoubtedly still looking for us …
or by the skelm or the other things that lurked in these mountains.
At times I thought I felt eyes on me, but when I glanced around us, I saw nothing. No one. In the harsh, beautiful whiteness, it felt as though we were the only two souls on earth.
Still, the sensation of being watched clung as we traversed, our steps cautious and measured.
The terrain was thick with snow, but the ground beneath that was uneven, jagged and sharp with rocks that could slice through the bottom of our boots or make us roll one of our ankles.
Not irreparable damage, but it would slow down our progress, and any slower a pace could cost us.
That could be all it took for the pride to catch up with us.
Every sound put me on alert. The whistle of the wind. Snow settling and shifting on groaning branches. My gaze scanned our surroundings, searching, seeking anything that shouldn’t be.
Anything that didn’t look part of the landscape.
I remembered the huldra that had very nearly put an end to Fell and his warriors.
Could there be more of those creatures in the Crags?
I already knew of harpies. They did not sound like a foe I wanted to meet.
Unlike solitary huldras, they lived in small packs, increasing their threat.
They’d been described to me as some manner of winged demon, smaller in scale than dragons but quick and vicious, with long, razor-sharp claws for hands and pale faces that were almost human except for the multiple rows of fangs in their mouths.
Kerstin reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me into a cluster of trees.
“Wh—”
She motioned with her hand for me to quiet and then pointed skyward. I looked up but could see nothing beyond the trees’ thick, snow-dappled limbs.
Suddenly I caught sight of movement. A f lash of bodies winging through the vast expanse of blue sky. I craned my neck to better see between the gaps in the branches.
The birds nesting in the trees went wild, f lapping their wings and sending up excited calls and squawks at what they perceived to be predators above them.
Dragons. At least six in number soared above us, all varying colors, but Vetr was unmistakable.
His great big body led the group, his dragon hide winking in the air, iridescent as a pearl caught in sunlight.
I glimpsed three other onyxes with him, the bronze hide of an earth dragon, and the bright yellow of a clarion.
I covered my mouth with both hands, not making a sound, knowing how keen their hearing was. I released not even a breath until they passed well out of sight.
“They’re gone,” Kerstin whispered on an exhale beside me.
Still, we waited under the canopy of trees for several more moments before continuing, listening to the birds settle back down and the wind moving through the trees.
“I’m glad you heard them in time,” I said.
She preened, proud of herself. “Told you I would be good to have around.”
“That didn’t take them very long.” I worried my lip between my teeth. Of all the directions they could have gone, they’d headed directly on the path we’d taken.
“Did you think they wouldn’t search for us the moment they realized we’d left? For you?”
I shrugged. “I’d hoped they wouldn’t come so close to finding us.” Another moment and we would have been spotted.
“Don’t worry. They’ll search by sky. They won’t be able to track us on the ground, thanks to the squall. We just need to listen for the beat of wings … and stay as close to the trees as possible so we can hide if needed.”
I nodded. No easy feat. There weren’t always trees and undergrowth around. A great portion of the Crags were simply … rocky crags.
For now, at least, we were in a mostly forested area, so we pressed on beneath the cover of foliage.
I led the way, sending frequent glances to the sky as we snaked a path, the pulsing ache in my palm still serving as a guide, but the thought of the six of them we’d glimpsed, like birds of prey taking measure of the world below, never strayed far from my mind.
“Who do you think that was? Orm or Aksel?” I asked Kerstin, thinking about the yellow clarion. From such a distance, there was no way to know for certain.
“I would guess it was Orm. He’s the stronger of the two … and has much better control of his talent.”
I stopped hard with sudden alarm, staring at her.
“You don’t think he can use his talent to find us, do you?
” Clarions, with their ability to foresee things to come, were very valuable to the pride.
Orm could pose a great threat to me. “What if he can see where we will be, and they’re there waiting for us? ”
I trembled at the prospect of rounding a bend to find Vetr and the others ready for us.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Kerstin assured me.
“Magic is not so perfectly wielded. Orm can’t see everything.
And he can’t choose the things he does see—or when he sees them.
There’s no forcing it. I heard Aksel say once that they don’t possess a view into the future.
Half the time it’s just a feeling. A mood …
a general sense of what’s coming.” We walked a few more moments before she added, “Our talents don’t always show up for us when we need them to.
” Her voice dropped to a disgruntled rasp at this last bit and color stained her cheeks, and I knew she wasn’t just talking about Orm anymore.
Of all the earth dragons in the pride, she was the weakest. The youngest, yes, but still the weakest, and she didn’t pardon herself for what she viewed as a deficiency. It was a struggle for her to bend and manipulate earth at all.
I repeated the reassurances I’d heard others give her. “You’re young yet. Your talent will grow. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
She shrugged as though it didn’t make any difference, but I knew that it mattered to her.
We walked for hours, taking only brief rests, even when the sun dipped behind the mountains and the shadows grew long over the snow.
Winter was here now, and the days were shorter, the sun fleeting in the sky, so we relied on our sharpening vision and pushed on even when the land was one great shadow, the air purple as a bruise between us.
“You still feel him?” Kerstin asked over the crunch of our steps.
I nodded, not needing to ask who she meant. I knew she asked just to verify that we were still heading in the right direction and that I was not simply leading us aimlessly.
After a while, she asked, “What’s that like?”
I stared ahead, the snowy rise of ground lighter and softer than the surrounding night. We’d left the protection of the trees since dark had fallen—the risk of being spotted lower now—to cover more ground faster.
“It feels”—my shoulder lifted in a shrug—“like it’s not just me anymore. There’s my heart inside me and”—I patted at the center of my chest—“now his, too, right beside mine.”
“So you’re never alone.” She sighed. “That must be nice.”
Nice. And a torment.
We finally took shelter for the night, slipping into one of the many tunnels riddling the mountains, bedding down in a small cave that shot off a winding stone passage, one of thousands in the Crags.
As I curled up in my bedroll, listening to water drip from a stone overhang, I tucked my hand beneath my cheek and reached for Fell through the darkness.
I found him there. The faint pulse of him, the beat of his heart not as forceful as usual but still there.
He’d been quieter lately. Or maybe it was me, tired and grimly intent on my journey.
“I’m coming,” I whispered. “Hold on. Just a little longer.”
THE SUN SHONE warmly on my skin. It was hard to imagine that only days ago we’d been in the grips of a squall.
This felt almost like spring … if not for the layer of snow covering everything.
The icicles hanging from branches dripped water, and yet this teasing thaw would not last. Winter was here, advancing in a slow, indelible march.
Kerstin sat on a rock that jutted out from the white blanket of snow, rubbing the soles of a bare foot. Her boots sat on the ground where she’d removed them along with her thick wool socks. “These feet are not made for walking.”