Chapter 12
Twelve
Shaye
Once the sun sets a cold unlike anything I've experienced before whips through our camp. Bundled up and huddled around the fire my mother and Kamari started, we eat our stew in silence.
Kamari's food is decent but definitely not what I've grown accustomed to living with Finn.
Even when we traveled to Elowen, we'd devour amazing meals around the fire and afterwards swap scary stories and drink coffee to warm up.
I really wish Ronan was here with one of his ghost tales to lighten the mood because with my Basilius kin, we don't laugh throughout the evening.
Mealtime isn't a social experience so much as nourishment out of necessity.
We have to keep our strength up and certainly have to keep warm.
I shift atop my blanket to get comfortable. My ass is frozen and I'm not sure how I'm going to sleep out here in these conditions.
"You know," Nyx says lowly, drawing eyes from everyone. "I heard legends of enormous creatures who hide in the Northern Crest. You think we might run into them?" He winks at me and my chest warms. I'm not the only one missing the others.
Kamari's brows pinch, deep in thought. She points her spoon at him. "What kind of beasts are you referring to?"
"There is more than one kind out here?" I swallow hard, hoping we don't cross paths with any of them.
"Of course," Kamari nods, once again turning towards Nyx. "So, which beast do you speak of?"
"According to my cousin they're called Wildlings. It walks like a man, but is nine feet tall with fur covering its entire body." Nyx hunches forward, using his performative voice to draw Kamari in. "Ronan said the few who have laid eyes on the creature claimed it had horns and claws too."
Thrane chuckles, not lifting his gaze from his soup. "Your cousin has quite the imagination."
"Are you implying Ronan is a liar?" Nyx shoots him a look that's more teasing than challenging.
"Not at all," Thrane drawls. "I don't think the Wildlings would appreciate your description too much."
Nyx and Kamari's mouths fall open.
"Wait," Nyx plops his spoon into his now-empty bowl. "Are you saying the Wildlings are real?"
"Oh, they are very real," Thrane nods, downing another spoonful, taking his time before expounding. "Fortunately for you," he smirks, "the Wildlings stay clear of dragons and their riders. You shouldn't be seeing any of them tonight."
"Have you seen them?" I ask, fascinated by what these creatures actually look like.
Thrane side-eyes me. "Once. A very long time ago."
With the seriousness of which Thrane glares at me, I know better than to press further. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to ask him about the Wildlings, but it's not tonight.
I tear my gaze from my cousin's to glance across to the other mountaintop where our dragons are fast asleep.
Or rather, almost all of them. Seraxes is on high alert, her neck craned, her eyes shifting, her body taut.
I squint but find she's not looking at us at all.
She's staring in the distance, into the depths of darkness.
Although my heart is galloping in my chest, I dare a look in the same direction but all I see is snow and shadowed outlines of the rest of the mountain range.
The hair on my arms stand at attention and shivers crawl up my spine. She hasn't relinquished her stare which makes me nervous. What does she sense is out there?
A hand clamps down on my shoulder startling me.
"Sorry," Nyx catches my bowl before it hits the ground. "Didn't mean to scare you, Kitarni."
"It's all right," I stammer, looking back at Seraxes whose focus has not drifted to our mountain. She's not relaxing or preparing for sleep. She's still standing at attention. Even from across the expanse dividing us, I can pick up on the low growls rumbling in her chest.
"Something's wrong," I whisper and fear grips my heart.
My mother approaches, wide-eyed in concern. "Aurelia, what – "
Seraxes stomps her feet and lowers her head, baring her teeth. "Something's wrong," I interrupt my mother and lunge for my weapons.
"What's wrong?" Kamari tenses, gliding closer to me and my mother.
My eyes dart back to Seraxes but this time, all the dragons are alert and ready for battle. The ground beneath us rumbles.
Nyx curses. When I whip around, he's stomping his boot into the snow like a madman.
"What are you doing?"
"Spiders," he says with a deceptively calm demeanor.
Dozens of spiders are crawling around our camp. Nyx continues his one-man assault on them. Each time he steps on one, a glass-like shatter sounds.
I kneel to examine them and gasp.
They're made entirely of ice.
If my studies of the creatures of this realm are correct, these are babies, meaning the full-grown Frost Spiders are –
Seraxes roars and spears into the sky.
Crawling up and over the lip of the cliffside, six spiders the size of wolves appear. Right behind them, two giant spiders rivaling our dragons follow.
"Frost Spiders!" I scream and within a split second, our group is armed with magic flaring.
Seraxes darts toward one of the giant spiders, but the creature hisses and uses its multiple legs to swat at her. My dragon flaps her wings and roars, not willing to back down from a fight. But the gigantic spider isn't deterred by her ice breath or her talons.
Nyx and I exchange a look before he reaches for his twin swords on his back. "Guess we're fighting the old fashioned way," he shrugs and takes off in a sprint toward the medium sized spiders. He swings his swords, dipping and dodging all attempted assault, and hacks glass legs to pieces.
Thrane's iced over arm is just as effective as Nyx's method but none of us are moving fast enough.
Seraxes and the other dragons can only occupy the giant spiders for so long.
There is no room for our dragons to land without harming one of us and if they continue breathing ice at the arachnids, the chance they miss and hit us grows higher.
I throw a shield around Seraxes when a spider's leg gets too close to swiping her belly. With ease and accuracy, I blast a couple of the dog-sized spiders from the mountainside. As they fall, Drexel snatches them and crushes them in his claws.
Talons, teeth, tails.
Our dragons are vicious and doing the best they can to help us destroy these creatures of darkness.
My mother and I concentrate our magic on blasting spiders over the cliff. Our plan is working.
But the giant spiders are what gives us the most trouble. Despite Nyx's strength, he's not able to slice through the thick ice legs of the enormous spiders. I toss shields around him as I can but keep Kamari and my mother in my line of sight to offer protection.
A dragon screech pierces my ears, and my first thought is I hope it's not Seraxes.
It's not her. It's Artax.
There's a long slash across his torso, but nothing life-threatening.
But Thrane doesn't see it that way. The giant spider harmed his dragon and it was going to pay a hefty price for doing so.
My cousin runs upward toward Artax hovering above the mountain.
He yells for the dragon to retreat but in the quick exchange, the spider knocks Nyx over, trampling him, to get to Thrane.
I scream for Thrane to turn around, but when he does, the spider plunges it's sharp tipped leg into Thrane's abdomen.
When Thrane grunts, it's as if the entire world slows. His body slips from the spider's leg and falls off the mountain rushing toward the earth below.
"Thrane!" I yell.
Artax dives for him and all I can pray for is the dragon gets to him in time.
Anger bubbles from my toes up to my head. My hands glow – my entire body alight. I muster every bit of magic humming beneath my fingertips and just when I'm about to explode from the pressure, I scream, "Get down!"
Sylvane, Nyx, and Kamari hit the ground seconds before I unleash a blast that clears the mountain of the small spiders that remain and one of the giant ones.
The sole giant spider remaining is knocked on its back, allowing an opening for Seraxes and Corvex to slice its belly to shreds.
The spider hisses in agony before it curls up – dead.
With the danger neutralized, I sprint to the edge of the cliff and drop to my knees. Tears fill my eyes when I don't see Artax or Thrane.
Seraxes hovers in my line of sight. I am grateful she's unharmed, but all I can think about is the grisly end Thrane met.
But suddenly, emerging from the darkness below, I catch sight of white wings. Artax has a bloody Thrane in his grasp.
I motion for Artax to set the Frost Elf down in a pile of snow. Sylvane rushes to join me, ordering for Kamari and Nyx to start boiling water and bring the medical kit to bind his wounds.
"What do I do?" I ask, tears streaming down my face as I hover above him. "Tell me what to do."
Thrane offers a small smile as he flicks a tear from my cheek. "Oh, Aurelia. Tears for me? I am honored."
"Quit with the jokes!" I hiss. "Tell me what to do."
"If we were in Elowen, I'd tell you to fetch Uncle Faolin to heal me, but we aren't in Elowen, are we?" He presses his hand to his side and when he draws back its coated with his blood. He chuckles darkly.
"What the hell is so funny?" I growl, tearing a piece of my undershirt in attempts to stop the bleeding.
"Frost Elves live and rule for hundreds of years hoping their names will be remembered. I suppose I will be memorialized as having the shortest reign of any Basilius."
"Just stay still, Thrane," my mother's soothing voice does little to still the panic in my heart. "We're going to help you."
"There is nothing you can do for me now, Sylvane," he coughs up blood. "I suppose Armas will have some choice words for me when we meet again in the After. I cannot wait to listen to him bitch for the rest of eternity. Tell Hael I'm sorry I didn't come home like I promised."
A sorrow overtakes his face when he mentions his younger brother and it's then I realize, despite his joke, he's accepted his fate. But I don't have to.
"Fuck that." A fresh set determination fuels me to press my hand against his wound.
"What are you doing?" His eyes widen, sucking in a breath when I make contact.
"I don't know," I admit. "But I'm not going to let you die."
The memory of Atlas' Nox form fills my head. I remember healing the poison streaks. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it was just my light magic reacting to Atlas' shadow magic. But I have to try something. I won't lose my cousin. I won't lose my friend.
Light erupts beneath my hand, and I channel every hopeful thought into my touch.
Thrane tenses and swallows a scream. He fists the snow, gritting his teeth through whatever pain I'm causing.
Part of me wants to stop. What if I'm burning him like I burned Vesper?
What if all I am doing is torturing a dying man?
Just as I'm about to release him from my hold, my mother grabs my shoulder.
"Don't stop. Look!"
Thrane's wound is smaller, but he's still bleeding so I continue. My hands brighten until the night sky appears to be dawn.
Thrane groans beneath me but I press onward until his wound is completely closed. The effort drains me of my strength, and once I know he's all right, I topple over and lay in the snow to catch my breath. I'm lightheaded. I've never used so much of my magic in such a concentrated way before.
Nyx rushes over and slides over me. "Kitarni, talk to me. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," I puff out, wiping sweat from my brow.
"Is Thrane…?" I turn my head and see Thrane sitting upright.
His hand skirts across the wound. There appears to be a scar forming, but all traces of blood are gone.
His eyes flash up to meet mine, but there's no confusion marring his face like I'm sure is marring mine.
Nyx helps me sit up and drapes a blanket over my shoulders to keep me warm when I begin to shiver.
"You healed me." Thrane says matter-of-fact.
I nod. There's no other explanation. "I didn't realize my light magic could heal."
My mother kneels before me and takes my hand in hers. She shakes her head. "Your light magic didn't do this."
"But if my light didn't then what – "
"You're a Frost Healer," she says with a proud smile.
"That's not possible," I tug the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "I don't have Frost Magic."
"Have you been injured before and felt little pain, even healed quicker than you should?" she asks, undeterred by my denial.
I recall all the injuries I've experienced throughout my time with the Harland brothers. Injuries in the Bavan Necropolis and training sessions. I always attributed my speedy recover to Finn's ointments and balms. But what if my mother is right? What if I healed myself without realizing it?
"There's never been a Basilius born that doesn't have Frost Magic," Thrane says, as if sensing my thoughts.
"I have Frost Magic?" I whisper, not sure I really believe it.
My mother smiles. "I had hoped you had Basilius magic and you do. A child born of Light and Frost."
I glance at my hands and so many questions flood my head. Despite any doubt or fear I might have, two things are absolutely certain. One, I never want to see a Frost Spider again. And two, I'm more powerful than I thought.