“But I thought —”
“Tell them the Snowy Maiden’s life depends on it.”
***
Traven turned the corner only to find yet another tunnel blocked by debris. They had been wandering the Hearth in search of Grave, but at this point they would be happy to find any Giant alive. Whatever these tentacled creatures were, they had effectively decimated the tangle of tunnels and chambers that formed the Hearth. Occasionally, Pale would pick up a muted scream, but they had yet to find a living soul.
Pale barked and scratched at a tumble of boulders. Traven joined his bond-mate with very little enthusiasm. The chance of finding a survivor was becoming slimmer with each passing minute. Lending his back to Pale’s efforts, they cleared away the blockage and entered one of the side halls of the Feasting Chamber. Pale whined at a sight that made Traven turn away. Several of the chieftains had been slaughtered, their body parts smeared across the walls.
Choking back bile, Traven slowly examined the room. Glacial’s father was among the deceased. The wolf barked again and charged out of the room. Pale had Grave’s scent. Traven gave chase, not so much that he believed his bond-mate had found their friend, more so that he could leave the grisly scene behind. But Pale was certain of the trail and sent a constant flow of sensory images. By the aroma, the wolf was nearly certain that the Giant still lived.
Traven’s pace accelerated as they nearer the scent. Finally, his bond-mate yipped in joy. Through Pale’s eyes, Traven witnessed the wolf and Giant’s reunion. So vivid was the image that Traven had to stop in his tracks, least he run into a wall. His entire vision was given over to the wolf’s ecstasy. Traven could feel the sensation of the Giant’s coarse beard on Pale’s tongue.
As the intensity lessened, Traven raced down the hallway to see for himself that Grave was well. Pale could barely contain himself from knocking over the battle-fatigued Giant.
“Grave! We had thought... We feared —”
The Giant’s face fell into a grimace. “The Chieftains ordered me to escort the Ice Princess to safety.”
“She lives?”
“Aye. There is a sequestered chamber. The Volatics cannot pierce its shell.” The Giant was obviously reluctant to ask the next question. “How are...? Are any...?”
Traven sadly shook his head. “We’ve found no survivors.”
The news was like a physical blow to Grave. The Giant’s shoulders slumped, and his chest caved in so severely that it looked as if all the air had been knocked out of him. “But the Chieftains. They might still —”
Traven gripped the Giant’s wrist with both hands and held Grave steady while he reported the grisly findings. For a moment, Traven thought his huge friend might buckle under. The Giant swayed but remained on his feet. Pale nudged and prodded Grave’s hand, consoling him the best he could.
A scream, that of a woman’s, echoed off the hallway. All three turned back down the hallway. Abruptly, the noise ceased. Traven charged forward, but Grave held him back.
“Nay, Hero. You must serve as Guardian to the Princess.”
“But your people —”
“My people need Glacial to reach the Winter King and end this madness.” The Giant nearly shook as he spoke.
Grave’s words touched Traven, but a true Hero would stay and fight, here and now. Even Pale chaffed at the concept of leaving Grave behind.
“Grave —”
The hallway shook, and the ceiling began to crumble. The Giant shoved Traven, sending the Hero sprawling down the hallway. Boulders tumbled down between them as one of the creatures erupted from the floor directly behind Grave. Traven tried to rush forward but the roof gave way — both he and Pale were thrown backwards.
Through cracks and crevices, Traven watched Grave hurl an enormous boulder at the creature, knocking it back. Digging with all his might, Traven tried to reach his friend.
The Giant turned back. “Go! You have sworn to —”
“I will not leave you, Grave,” Traven shouted as he dug out another boulder.
The Giant used another chunk of rock to smash one of the creature’s legs. “You are not fleeing, Hero. You are ensuring Glacial meets her destiny.”
Traven ignored the Giant. They would have plenty of time after the trio squelched this attack to discuss Glacial. She was at the least safely sequestered.
Only a few more rocks, and he would be through to Grave. Pale nipped at Traven’s sleeve, but the Hero had no idea why. It was not until the floor began to tremble, and the awful grinding sound resonated through the hallway. Another of the Volatics was underfoot!
“Go!” Grave shouted as the Giant finished off his attacker.
Pale nearly dragged Traven down the hall away from the Giant as the second Voltaic split open the floor. Antennae waved ominously from the crack. Turning, Traven ran headlong after Pale. Grave was right. If they did not leave now, they might never be able to.
With blind faith, Traven followed Pale through the labyrinth of hallways. The wolf was able to scale nimbly over the rubble, but Traven was forced to scramble around the debris. Soon, even the wolf’s tail was out of sight. Only the sound of Pale’s harsh pant directed Traven’s path.
Careening around a corner, Traven skidded to a stop. Before him was the most beautiful room he had ever had the privilege of entering. The walls were encrusted with diamonds. Traven had never seen such brilliant gems. A glow from above illuminated the diamonds, creating a forest of rainbows. Two waterfalls cascaded down the glassy wall into a large pool. The air smelled of water lilies and jasmine.
Perhaps the most stunning feature of the chamber was the figure sitting upon a marble bench. Draped in flowing blue silk, Glacial gazed down at the pool, seemingly unaware of his intrusion. Her features were so peaceful and placid that Traven might have thought her a statue. Only a slight rising and falling of her perfect breast revealed Glacial’s true nature.
“Princess?” Traven croaked out.
Glacial did not move a single eyelash as he tentatively approached the bench.
“Glacial. We need to be on our way.”
The girl did not look in his direction as she spoke. “There will be a Ceremony of Departure —”
The room shook violently. Traven did not have the luxury of indulging the Princess’ shock. “Glacial, we don’t have time. The entire Hearth could collapse at any minute.”
“Grave told me these walls are immune to the Voltaics’ jaws.”
Traven hovered near the girl. He wanted to urge her up from the bench, but he knew the Princess would take offense at such a bold gesture. “I’m sure Grave was correct m’lady, but we cannot risk a cave-in.”
“My father would never allow a cave in, he —”
Taking a risk, Traven gently grabbed Glacial’s shoulders. “Your father did not survive the attack, Princess. Grave has ordered me to escort you safely to the Winter King.”
Coldly, Glacial answered. “That cannot be.”
The Hero forced her to turn and look at him. “It is true. We will end the same if we do not hurry.”
Before the princess could react, Traven pulled her to her feet and guided her out of the chamber. Pale was already ahead, scouting the hallways for any sign of danger. Afraid that Glacial might fall into hysterics, Traven held the Princess’s hand. Tears shown in her beautiful eyes but none flowed past her lids. These Giants suffered quietly.
The walls buckled and groaned under the Voltaics’ attack. They had best leave the Hearth before the battleground lines shifted again. Traven sent a query regarding his horse and found that Pale was already leading the way to the stable.
If, of course, the stable still existed.
*****
CHAPTER 18
Ornery finished the last knot on Nutmeg’s harness. Even though it slowed him down, Ornery could not help but look over his shoulder frequently. Miss Emmert’s chanting floated on the wind, carrying with it the sharp bite of sage and the sweet taste of peppermint.
The
girl must be seriously ill if his caretaker was burning those herbs. Ornery could remember only one other time that Miss Emmert had brewed such a potent mix. Even then, the young drowning victim had died.
Fear clutched at Ornery’s throat. He could not bear it if this girl should succumb. Lashing down the stray ends of the harness, Ornery hopped onto the wagon and gently parted the curtains. He had meant to announce himself, but the sight before him gave the boy pause. The girl was laid out on a bed of hay with only a thin sheet covering her naked form. Ornery recognized the cloth. It was a present to Miss Emmert from Mr. Skelt many years ago.
When he was but a child and had fallen down a well, Miss Emmert had wrapped him in its unnatural warmth. Ornery knew if he touched the sheet, it would nearly burn his skin. Yet the girl just lay there, ashen and unconscious. Miss Emmert had smeared red dye over the girl’s forehead and cheeks, making her features appear all the more frail.
“Crystalia, I need your help,” Miss Emmert murmured in the girl’s ear. His caretaker picked up the girl’s hand and watched the lifeline flutter and warble. “Child, I cannot heal you alone. You must kindle the fire within you. My mother gave you the power.” Ornery watched as Miss Emmert choked on bitter tears. “I cannot lose you both. Fight, child. Fight.”
Ornery’s foot slipped on the board, and he nearly tumbled into the pair. Miss Emmert quickly wiped her cheeks clean of the moisture and turned to him. “Are we ready to depart?”
“Aye. But what of her horse?”
Miss Emmert nodded and grabbed a small coil of ribbon. Closing her eyes, Miss Emmert kissed the fabric, then handed it to Ornery. “Use this to tether him to the back of the wagon, then have Nutmeg set the pace.”
Ornery stood stunned. Where the material had once been a dull brown, the ribbon now flashed with red and silver. It was beautiful but still flimsy at best.
“Ma’am, I doubt this will hold the horse, and... and in his shape there’s no way he could keep up even a trot, let alone match Nutmeg’s —”
“Child, please. Do as I ask.”
Still uncertain, Ornery hesitated.
“Have a bit of faith, Ornery.” Miss Emmert’s words were so soft that they very nearly kissed his ears. There was no doubt that the boy had always trusted his caretaker, but to have faith? Ornery held the silky tie in his hand and watched as Miss Emmert busied herself with the girl. So, why had faith been so hard to come by?
Because of Ornery’s total and complete resentment of her, he realized. How could the boy truly believe in the person that he held so very accountable for his miserable, wandering existence? Closing his hand around the ribbon, Ornery realized how wrong he had been. Hurrying to do Miss Emmert’s bidding, Ornery smiled. He now had both family and faith.
What more could he desire?
Ornery blushed as the answer came unbidden. Love, the love of a girl, to be exact, was the last and most elusive element of Ornery’s happiness. Rushing, he tied the ribbon to the girl’s horse, securing the beast to the back of the wagon. Whatever came of this rescue, Ornery welcomed it with open arms.
***
Pale whined as he circled in front of the stable’s entrance. Along with the rest of the Hearth, its ceiling had caved in. Traven left Glacial’s side and charged ahead. The chances that Lauger had survived this disaster were nearly non-existent. Sinking to his knees, Traven began tossing rocks aside. The Hero had welcomed a demon into his own body to save Lauger. A little dirt was not going to stand in his way now. Traven would not stop until he knew for certain.
“What do we care for a horse?” Glacial said, disdain thick in her voice.
Traven’s muscles tensed. Was this princess without compassion? Never pausing in his digging, Traven’s anger slipped out. “I care more for Lauger than I do for you right now, Princess. So, I would watch my tongue.”
Glacial’s foot stamped down, and Traven could hear her sharp intake of air, but Pale’s low growl stayed her verbal attack, which was just as well. Traven was not in the mood for anymore of the Princess’ berating.
As the stones were cleared, another tremor shook the hallway. This time, though, its source seemed not too far away, adding urgency to an already pressing task. Pale was the first one through the small hole they had cleared. The place was such a mess that not even Pale, with his acute senses, could tell if Lauger was present, let alone still alive.
The smell of sulfur and sticky sweet candy permeated the room, confusing the wolf’s nose. Traven removed the last few rocks and squeezed past the stony barricade. Despite his intense desire to start the search, the Hero turned back and held his hand out for Glacial.
“Come, Princess.” Through the opening, Traven could see Glacial turn away from him. “Princess, I cannot leave you unguarded. Now, come.”
Glacial’s back was as straight, beautiful, and unmoving as the diamond walls they had just left behind.
“Pale, to the Princess.”
The wolf snorted loudly and sent images of refusal. Traven withstood Pale’s tantrum and stood firm in his resolve. Lauger was worth this effort, but the Hero could not allow the search to jeopardize the Princess’ safety. Pale gruffed one last time but turned and slunk back through the hole. Not, however, without serious wolfy curses being thrown Traven’s way.
With the princess guarded, Traven carefully crossed the boulder-strewn stable. Several horses, too light to be Lauger, lay dead from the rockslide. Another warhorse was badly slashed, while a little painted pony lay in the middle of the room, looking like it had been eaten alive — only the extremities were untouched by blood. Rounding an especially large boulder, Traven came upon a dead pack animal. Traven had never seen anything like it upon the Plains. It was woolly and far larger than any sheep the Hero had ever encountered.
Traven sent an image of the scene to Pale. Immediately, the wolf sent the pack animal’s name — a Yukay. They traveled in herds far above the tree line, and their eyeballs had a nice, tasty flavor to them. Traven grimaced. Sometimes the wolf gave him more information than the Hero really wanted to know.
Scanning the shattered room, Traven realized it might be impossible to truly know Lauger’s fate. The floor was littered with so many boulders and rocks that his horse could be buried in half a dozen places, and he’d never know it.
Sighing, Traven reached the back wall and stopped. The Hero could not waste any more time searching for the Lauger. They would just have to set out upon the Plains on foot. Scanning to the left, Traven noted a door, still intact — most likely the tack room. At the very least, they might be able to scrounge some gear for the trip. Traven pulled the partially ajar door open.
Out from the darkness, something charged, bowling Traven backwards. Scrambling to his feet, the Hero could not help but send a feeling of fear to Pale. Clearing his head, Traven found that it was only Lauger, snorting wildly. The whites of the horse’s eyes glistened in the torchlight.
The Hero feared for a moment that the wraith had not been completely exorcised, but there was no blue tinge to the horse’s dilated pupils. No, Lauger was just insane with fury that was fueled by fear. The Hero had seen his steed this way, almost a Beserker, after especially intense battles.
Pale flew over a pile of boulders, growling and snapping his teeth, ready to take out the attacker. The wolf pulled up short and narrowly missed a flashing hoof.
“Whoa, boy. It’s me,” Traven soothed as he cautiously approached his horse. “It’s all right, boy. You’re safe.”
Lauger backed away and pranced to the side — ready in his attack position. Traven did not stop, however. He kept moving forward with a nice slow steady pace.
“Shh, Lauger. Stand down. The battle’s over.”
A glint of recognition crossed Lauger’s face. The stallion relaxed a bit and flared his nostrils, taking in Traven’s smell. The horse’s ears were still plastered back, but the Hero could no longer see the whites of the Lauger’s eyes. Finally, Lauger snorted and took a step towards Traven. Putting his hand
out, Traven petted his steed’s silky nose, now warm and damp from the trauma.
“It’s all right, boy. We’re getting out of here.”
Pale helped Traven find the Hero’s tack and gather all the supplies they could muster. To the Hero’s relief, they found his sword amongst the rubble. Still, the trip would be slow going. Glacial would ride Lauger while Traven and Pale accompanied on foot, which would greatly hinder their pace.
Tentatively, the Hero approached his horse, with the bridle in his hand. Luckily, Lauger took the bit more than willingly. Traven was relieved. At times the horse could be fickle and headstrong, but it seemed Lauger was more than willing to leave this place and carry them out of there.
Crossing back to the entrance, Traven felt a slight tremor, then another. Hurrying, Traven slipped through the opening to check on the Princess. The Hero need not have worried. Glacial was standing as rigid as a stone statue — right where he had left her. Kneeling, Traven began enlarging the opening to accommodate Lauger while Pale worked from the inside.
“Princess, this might go faster if you helped.”
Glacial turned so sharply that Traven’s arm flew up to protect against another blow, but it was not her hand that dealt the damage; it was her eyes and her tone.
“I am The Bride.”
Traven resumed his digging as he took the Princess’ answer to be a firm “no.” Just as they were making serious headway, the walls trembled and began buckling. The stony floor moved in waves, undulating as if it were mere satin being blown by the wind. Their precarious hole started to collapse.
“Pale, get out of there.”
Traven hated to leave Lauger alone, but the Hero did not want to risk losing them both. Pale, as always, had other ideas. There was a back exit — a secret tunnel that led directly out to the Plains. Traven drew back.
7 Folds of Winter Page 24