Chapter 28
Vaelor
The canyon narrowed ahead of them, its walls rising like jagged blue teeth.
Below, scattered across the frozen basin, a herd of wild ice beasts roamed—massive, horned creatures with hides like frosted stone and breath that steamed in thick plumes.
One wrong sound, one wrong scent, and the entire herd could turn on them.
“That is not just one ice predator. That’s a whole herd of them! It’s not like we can cover ourselves with their poop to hide our scent. Can we?”
He was confused by her suggestion.
“We will need to proceed with caution but be as quick as possible. The longer we are down there, the more chances we will cross one of those beasts.”
He tried to find the right path to take to keep them far enough away from the creatures.
Vaelor had to admit, the massive white-furred beast with crystalline claws were majestic but deadly.
Vaelor was a hunter and a warrior, but he would not be able to defeat more than a handful at time.
Mara was more at risk. One hit from one of those creatures could kill her.
Vaelor crouched behind a ridge of black ice, studying the wind currents. “We cannot cross openly. Their senses are too sharp.”
Mara crouched beside him, cheeks flushed from the cold. “My dad and I ran into something like this once,” she whispered. “Back home. In Great Utah.”
Vaelor glanced at her. “Great Utah?”
“Yeah. We were hiking and came across a herd of wild buffalo." She smiled faintly at the memory. “Huge, stubborn, territorial. Dad said the trick was to move like you belong there.”
Vaelor raised a brow. “Move like a buffalo?"
“Not literally,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But you match their rhythm. Their pace. Don’t make sudden movements. Don’t stare at them directly. And—” she pointed to the drifting snow “—you stay downwind. Always.”
Vaelor considered this. Her world was different, but instincts were universal. Herd animals behaved similarly across species. And Mara’s father had clearly known what he was doing.
“It is good advice,” Vaelor said. “Better than your earlier suggestion.”
She blinked. “What suggestion?”
“You asked if we should cover ourselves in excrement.”
Mara’s face went crimson. “I was joking!”
“I am relieved,” Vaelor murmured. “I was prepared to refuse.”
She swatted his arm, but her smile eased the tension in his chest.
He turned his attention back to the herd. “Your father’s method will work here. Ice beasts rely on scent and movement. If we stay downwind, keep our heads lowered, and match their pace, they may ignore us.”
Mara nodded. “Then let’s do it.”
Vaelor led the way, stepping onto the canyon floor with deliberate slowness. He adjusted his stride—heavy, rhythmic, almost plodding. Mara followed, mimicking him. The ice beasts grazed, snorted, shifted their massive bodies, but none turned toward them.
A young beast lifted its head, sniffing the air. Vaelor froze. Mara froze beside him.
The wind shifted—just slightly.
Vaelor felt Mara tense. He whispered, barely audible, “Do not look at it. Keep your gaze low.”
She swallowed hard. “Like the buffalo?"
“Yes. Exactly.”
The beast snorted, pawed the ice, then lowered its head again.
The canyon narrowed as they neared the final stretch, the ice walls rising high on both sides like frozen cliffs.
The herd of wild ice beasts moved restlessly across the basin—massive, horned creatures whose footsteps made the ground tremble.
Vaelor kept Mara close, guiding her with slow, rhythmic steps, matching the herd’s pace just as she’d described from her childhood story.
It was working.
For them.
The others… not so much.
Ahead, the Slurchan and the Rasilian were practically crawling across the ice, their bodies flattened low to avoid drawing attention. It might have worked—if they hadn’t chosen a path directly through the herd’s center.
A thunderous bellow shook the canyon.
One of the beasts stomped down, its massive hoof slamming onto the Slurchan’s gelatinous back. The creature flattened like a pancake, then sprang back into shape with a wet fwop.
The Rasilian wasn’t so lucky. The stomp sent him skidding across the ice like a kicked crystal sculpture.
Yet somehow, impossibly, both of them kept going.
Mara whispered, “They’re… still alive?”
“Barely,” Vaelor murmured.
Farther ahead, Esto—the Sorian—decided subtlety wasn’t for him. He broke into a sprint, darting between the beasts with reckless speed.
“Esto, no,” Mara muttered.
The herd reacted instantly. A wall of fur and horns surged toward the movement. Esto zagged, fast but not fast enough. A beast clipped him with a sweeping horn, sending him flying into a snowbank.
Arian, his winged partner, panicked and launched into the air.
The herd hated anything above them.
A chorus of enraged bellows echoed through the canyon as several beasts reared up, swiping at him. Arian dodged once, twice—then a massive clawed paw caught him mid-flight, slamming him into the ground beside Esto.
Both lay still.
Mara winced. “That’s… not good.”
“They are alive,” Vaelor said, though he wasn’t entirely certain. “But they are out.”
They continued forward, careful, steady, nearly at the canyon’s end when—
A shove.
Hard.
Mara stumbled out from behind the protective ridge of ice and into the open.
Vaelor’s heart seized. “Mara!”
He lunged after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her against his chest just as a nearby beast lifted its head, sniffing the air. Vaelor shifted his body to shield her, lowering them both into a crouch, mimicking the herd’s posture.
The beast snorted, pawed the ice… then turned away.
Only when it moved on did Vaelor allow himself to breathe.
Mara whispered, shaken, “What—who—?”
Vaelor already knew.
Blaine and Dugan sprinted past them, using the distraction to slip through the final stretch of the canyon.
Blaine didn’t even look back.
Rage flared hot in Vaelor’s chest. He lifted Mara to her feet, keeping her close as they made the final steps out of the canyon.
The moment they crossed the threshold, Blaine turned, smirking.
“Guess you two make better bait than competitors.”
Vaelor didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
One punch—clean, controlled, and fueled by every ounce of fury he’d held back—sent Blaine sprawling unconscious across the ice.
Dugan didn’t move. He held up his hands calmly. “I had nothing to do with it.”
Vaelor ignored him. His focus was on Mara.
“Are you harmed?” he asked, voice low.
She shook her head, breathing unsteadily. “No. Thanks to you.”
Vaelor exhaled slowly, the adrenaline fading. “Then it is finished.”
But inside, he knew it wasn’t.
Not by a long shot.
“Are you okay?” Mara asked, placing a palm on his chest.
Vaelor looked at her, admiration warming him. “Your father taught you well. His wisdom may have saved us.”
She smiled softly. “He’d like you.”
Vaelor wasn’t sure what to do with the warmth that bloomed in him at that thought. But he knew one thing:
Mara’s stories were becoming as valuable to him as her presence.