Arvo snuffled at Dorian. The faery leaned against the caribou’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Are you going to be all right?” Diane whispered, gently touching his arm.
Dorian opened his eyes, but his smile was nowhere to be found around them. “Ask me when we get to the Lights and get her back.”
Diane nodded, pulling him into a gentle hug, careful not to stir his injured wing. He tapped her shoulder with his good hand.
“Let’s go,” he said.
She pulled away, and mounted, extending a hand down to help him clamber on behind her. Arvo adjusted his hooves against the ground, compensating for the extra weight. August sat hunched over on Freyr’s back as the bear began to walk. Diane tightened the reins and kicked Arvo up into a trot, pulling him alongside the solitary line of tracks.
Freyr loped along in their wake, August leaning down on his back. Diane refused to look at the sun to see how much time had passed since Steinn had first attacked. She focused instead on the mountains, willing them to come closer with each jolting step.
*
They kept the same steady pace of trotting and then walking. The hours passed in silence. Diane alternated between staring at the tracks and staring at August, who leaned further and further down on Freyr’s neck as the day progressed.
Finally, Freyr padded to a stop where the tundra began to shift up into hills, rocks strewing themselves like dark sentinels in the snow. Diane reined in, fear jolting through her as August barely stirred. Dorian slid down from behind her, grunting as his boots hit the snow.
“He can’t go on,” Freyr said, lowering himself to the ground. Diane dismounted and followed Dorian to their side.
August lifted his chin, a shudder wracking his body. Diane clapped a gloved hand across her mouth. The blue had deepened around his lips, but an eerie paleness had spread across his cheeks—frost swirling across his skin like a newly frozen lake. Tiny flakes of white touched the irises of his hazel eyes.
Dorian cursed, ripping open August’s coat and tunic to pull at the bandages.
“A-at least o-offer to c-court m-me first.” August managed a smile through chattering teeth.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dorian demanded.
“I-it’s n-not going to m-make a d-difference.”
“Shut up.” The look Dorian gave him could have melted an ice floe. His breath left him in an audible whoosh. He staggered and Diane leapt forward to grip his elbow to steady him.
August’s face regained a little color and the blue receded. He grabbed Dorian’s shoulder.
“No more!” His growl matched Freyr’s for intensity.
Dorian swayed under their hold. “Can you keep going?”
August jerked a nod and released him. Diane helped Dorian stumble back to Arvo and mount, biting her lip under the strain of hauling him back up behind her. He turned his face away from her searching gaze, but not before she saw the faint blue outlining the cut on his cheek.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Diane checked the position of the sun where it hung low in the sky. “How much farther, Freyr?”
Freyr brushed the tracks with his nose.
“We’re getting close.” His voice rumbled deeper with eagerness.
That was all Diane needed to hear. She urged Arvo on, Dorian clinging a little tighter to her belt this time. “Close” turned into another hour’s ride. The rocks clumped larger together and the hills rose higher. The deep purple and greens of the mountains distinguished themselves as trees and rock formations tumbling down from the soaring heights to strew across the hills.
Finally Freyr stopped, paws poised mid-step. He turned his nose to the wind. He swung his head back and forth.
“Here.”
The tracks curved around a grove of trees and rocks. A flash of movement in the trees revealed Steinn’s caribou grazing on the low pine branches. The wind shifted towards them, masking their scent, but still Diane held her breath. The darkness of a cave opening loomed beyond the caribou. Nothing stirred.
Where is Tonya?
Chapter Twenty-nine
The rhythmic stride of Steinn’s caribou over the bleak tundra finally broke through Tonya’s shock. She twisted against Steinn, trying to turn to look at the ruin behind her. He grabbed her shoulder and forced her back in place.
Wind tore hair from her braid to whip across her cheeks and mingle with the tears. It had been Steinn all along.
Rage at having been deceived and attacked flared through her. Magic pressed up against the warding, filled with the fury of the ocean and the mountains. She jammed an elbow back into his stomach.
Steinn’s breath left him in a rush and he released his grip for a precious moment. Tonya twisted again, trying to pitch herself off the side of the galloping caribou, ready to worry about consequences later. Steinn clicked and the caribou slid to a stop. Tonya barely stopped herself from striking the horns as she was thrown forward.
Steinn grabbed her braid and wrenched her head back to look at him from the edge of her vision.
“Stop. I found a way to skirt some of your warding. I will hurt you if you try again.” His voice came colder than the wind before a blizzard.
She swallowed hard against the pressure in her throat.
“Did you kill them?” She barely recognized her voice, tight and angry.
“No. But the ice and cold will finish them off.”
Moisture stung her eyes. “Why?”
He shoved her head forward and jabbed his heels into the caribou’s sides again. Tonya grabbed on to the front of the saddle with her ice-bound hands again as the caribou leaped back into its ground-eating gallop.
No answer came from Steinn. Only occasional jolts of magic that slithered its way around the warding to remind her not to fight.
Steinn didn’t stop for the midday meal, only to rest the caribou. No words passed between them, only glares on the rare opportunity when they came face to face. Her stomach growled in hunger as they galloped into the beginnings of hills, but still Steinn did not stop.
Fatigue weighed on Tonya by the time they entered a small copse of trees that shielded the open mouth of a cave. Even her anger had died to a flicker. Steinn dismounted and dragged her from the saddle. Her legs buckled as she hit the ice.
He cursed at her and pulled her upright, halfway dragging her behind him into the cave. She pitched to her knees on the cold, stony ground. She glanced around as Steinn stepped away to light a lantern that had been left by the entrance.
It wasn’t a large cave, maybe twenty paces from the door to the back of the cave. The southern side opened into a rough-hewn corridor that wound somewhere deeper.
When she turned, her breath froze in her chest. The north wall of the cave was covered in ice.
Suspended in the ice was a figure.
Tonya pushed up higher on her knees, straining to see in the afternoon light that trickled into the cave.
Steinn stepped closer, lifting the lantern to better illuminate the ice wall.
It was a woman. One hand lifted up in front of her, palm outward. The ice bubbled around her fingers. Her other arm stretched out behind her, framed in a similar distortion of ice. Long blonde hair flung about her head. But Tonya locked on to her face. Slender features, sea-green eyes, a look of fear and determination frozen in place.
It can’t be…
A dress of blues and blacks, edged in polar bears and wild berries stitched in deep red, clung and fluttered about her in the same frozen wind that tangled her hair. The lighter blue of a kelp-woven bodice overlaid the dress.
“Meet your mother,” Steinn spat.
A sob of disbelief broke from Tonya. She lurched to her feet, pressing one hand against the ice. The woman’s eyes stared past her, unseeing. Mother…
Her ice and ocean magic twitched through her fingers and she desperately tried to find the right words to whisper to the prison, to break it open. Steinn yanked her back.
; “You don’t have the strength to break it,” he sneered, his hot breath on her ear somehow making her shiver.
“Is she even still alive?” She forced the question around the tightness of a hundred wild currents smothering her chest.
“She is.”
Tonya jerked a breath.
“But she’s never getting out.”
“Why?” Tears threatened to overflow.
“Because she’s more useful right here. Don’t worry. As soon as we break that warding around you, you get to keep her company for the rest of your life.”
He shoved her back down to the ground. The ice chains unlocked from her wrists, but before she could move, they reformed around her feet, anchoring themselves to the floor.
Steinn headed for the entrance.
“Wait!” Tonya cried. He pivoted. “Why couldn’t you have just left them alone? What did she ever do to you?”
“Because he fell in love with her, that’s why!” He threw his arms wide, jerking a step back to her. “An ocean faery. He sullied the blood of the north with her. With you! It’s disgusting. Even if he wasn’t the son of one of the oldest noble families in Konungburg, he should have married better. Kept the strength of the north where it belongs.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears to run down her cheeks. The words cut deeper than ice shards or shark teeth.
“He wouldn’t see reason. Wouldn’t see that he could alienate us from our own people, had already begun to, by his actions. Bring our house to its knees. No one else would stop him. So I had to.” A frantic note came into his voice. “I was too late to prevent you, but I swore to put you away just like your mother. So the world would never know the shame of you. If not for that warding, I would have found you years ago! Lucky for me, I finally found a creature willing to talk about the abomination that lived under the waters.”
The hate-filled words threatened to crush her under their weight. She covered her mouth with her hands, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of actually hearing her cries.
He turned on his heel and left the cave.
Tonya scooted back against the wall, drawing her knees up to her chest, burying her face in her arms as her body jerked with helpless sobs.
By the time Steinn returned, her tears had dried to salty tracks on her cheeks. She stayed curled up, half-afraid to meet his gaze and see the hate openly shining in his eyes. He’d pretended, lifted her hopes, all the while planning this.
Anger warred with the shame and humiliation his words had wrought on her. And a little bit of resignation that she was truly nothing more than a disgrace, a blight among faeries.
Something that shouldn’t exist.
Between the rushes of emotion, she stretched and curled her fingers, trying to summon the bits of magic that stayed stubbornly out of reach. Her stomach growled again.
Steinn flung a bag down at her side. “Eat. We’ll leave in a few hours for the Lights.”
She waited until his boots retreated through the hallway in the southern wall before uncurling her stiff joints. Drawing dried seal jerky and soft biscuits out, she tried to settle more comfortably against the wall, but the ice chains made adjusting her feet difficult.
Tonya tipped her head back and studied her mother again as she slowly ate. Steinn had left the lantern on the floor by the ice wall, its light still burning brightly.
What were you like? What was he like? What was so special about him and this place that you decided to leave the ocean behind and have me?
She rubbed at tired eyes to prevent another outpouring of tears. What would you have done in my place? Kostis said you were a powerful wave dancer, but you are so far from the waves here. What chance do I have?
A sigh broke from her, along with a few rogue tears. The light cast long shadows through the door. Sunset would come soon and then they’d leave.
One shadow moved, shifting and dancing across the floor. Tonya held her breath. A figure slumped against the entrance. Broad shoulders, quiet edges, light green eyes.
“Dorian?” she whispered in disbelief.
“Tonya!” He lurched forward, crashing to one knee beside her.
Without thinking or caring, she flung her arms around him, burying her head against his shoulder. He held her just as tightly.
“You’re alive,” she mumbled against his coat.
“So are you.” His voice shook a little.
She fisted her hands tighter in his coat. This time he flinched.
“Not so tight,” he said almost apologetically. She pulled back, keeping a grip on his arms as she swept a glance over him. Blood stained around rips in his jacket. His wings hung awkwardly behind him.
She reached a tentative hand over his shoulder to touch the edge of the torn wing. He shifted just out of her reach.
“Dorian…” She brought a hand to his cheek, not even caring about her fears and doubts regarding him. Blue rimmed a cut on his other cheek. She swallowed tightly. “What about the others?”
“Diane is fine. The warding August’s parents put on her protected her. August is…” He reached up to squeeze her hand with weak fingers. “He’s not doing well. We need to get him to the Lights.”
Tonya took a deep breath. “We need to get out of here. My uncle is through there.” She jerked her chin at the passage. “I think he might be asleep. We just need to get these undone.” She tugged at the ice chains. They rattled against the ground with light clinks.
“Tonya…” Dorian’s horrified whisper brought her head back up. He stared past her at the ice wall and the faery trapped within.
“That’s—that’s my mother…” She yanked at the chain again.
“Your…” He jerked a breath. “Tonya, we found—”
A faint scuff was the only warning she had before Steinn kicked Dorian in the back and knocked him to the ground. Dorian curled against the ground, face twisted in agony.
“Dorian!” Tonya tried to get to him, but Steinn kicked her away. She gasped for breath, forcing her arms to push herself up to her knees.
“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” Steinn curled his lip in a sneer. He raised his hand, light forming around his fingers in colorful swirls.
“Don’t!” Tonya grabbed at her uncle’s arm. Steinn jerked his hand away, cold anger in his eyes.
“You would try to save his life? For what? To be with him?” Disbelief filled his voice. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. Half-breed yourself, you’d sully your blood further? Spend your days digging in the dirt?”
He stomped the heel of his boot on Dorian’s injured wing.
Dorian’s back arched with his cry. Tonya flung herself against Steinn with a shout. It knocked him off balance enough to let Dorian drag himself away.
“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Dorian gritted, getting an arm underneath him.
Steinn kicked him back down. “What would you know about it?”
He grabbed Tonya’s upper arm, hauling her awkwardly to her feet. The ice melted with a command from Steinn. She stumbled after him as he strode towards the door, overcoming all of her efforts to pull back toward Dorian.
They broke into the early twilight.
“Tonya!” Diane stood outside, staff held in front of her. August slumped against a rock, disconcerting paleness covering his cheeks. Frost?
A shadow moved behind Diane.
Tonya reflexively jerked against Steinn as she recognized it as a bear. She opened her mouth to warn Diane, but a voice spoke first.
“Steinn!”
Tonya stared, trying to track the owner of the growling voice.
“So they found you, then?” Steinn sneered at the bear.
Tonya stopped struggling in her shock. It’s talking!
“They gave me back my memories and my voice. What have you done?” The bear lunged at Steinn.
Steinn threw up a hand and a blast of light hit the bear, sending it skidding backwards on wide paws.
“What needed to be done, F
reyr!” he yelled. “It should never have been allowed to go this far.” He jerked Tonya’s arm. “But you always thought you were better than anyone.”
Tonya jolted, her limbs losing their stiffness. Freyr?
She stumbled in the snow as Steinn kept retreating. His caribou snorted.
“Give it up,” he said to Diane, nodding at August. “That one won’t last much longer. And there’s nothing Freyr can do to stop me.”
Another blast of light prevented the bear from lunging again. Steinn slung her over the caribou’s withers like a sack of provisions and sprang into the saddle.
“I’ll deal with you all when I get back.”
He flicked his hand and ice sprang at Diane. Tonya cried out as if that would stop it. The ice hit Diane and puffed into harmless powder. Diane’s wide eyes met Tonya’s, then she charged Steinn. He simply wheeled the caribou and galloped off, Tonya watching again as her friends vanished in the distance.
Chapter Thirty
Diane stared helplessly after the snow cloud kicked up in the caribou’s wake as Steinn once again escaped with Tonya. Freyr ran a few steps and loosed a thundering roar. A faint sound behind her turned her away from their failure.
August slumped against the rocks, arms wrapped across his stomach, his chest barely rising and falling.
“August…” Dorian staggered over to his side, hitting his knee with a heavy thud. Diane swallowed hard and crouched by the faeries.
The curling frost had spread over August’s cheeks and now dusted bits of his hair. Another little wheezing gasp edged past his blue lips.
“We have to get him to the Lights,” Dorian said desperately. But fatigue bowed his body and blue edged the cut along his cheek and had begun to touch his lips.
“Dorian, are you affected by the ice, too?” Diane asked quietly.
Dorian looked at her for a long moment, defeat in his eyes. “I’ve been trying to fight it, but can’t much longer and give my magic to August…”
Winter Spell Page 25