Madame Hesper knew that most of the crimes that the Drakol had committed were petty to the Elements. After all, the four destroyed whole continents on a whim. No, only an affront to the Order of Things would shake these spirits.
“This priestess has offered the Snowy Maiden up to the Winter King.”
A rush of air marked Wind’s agitation. Water suddenly poured down like a waterfall. Earth sighed, nearly shaking the building from its frame.
The flames encasing Fire, however, snapped and crackled with anticipation. She was fond of games such as these. “Once I release my children, I have little control over them.”
Well, that Madame Hesper knew all too well. It was one of Fire’s wayward offspring that had required the medium’s services in the first place.
“Aye. I know this structure may take a scorching, so I ask that Water contain the damage to this building only, sparing the rest of the town any further harm.”
Madame Hesper watched Water surge and flow. The medium had chosen her words carefully, or else Water might have gotten the notion to flood the entire town while she was at it.
“I do not like bargains with flesh,” Wind snapped.
“Then you should not have sought her aid that summer,” Fire scolded her sibling.
The room throbbed with tension. It was the Drakol priestess who sensed the Elements’ mutual decision.
“No!” the demon screamed as the building rocked and quaked.
There was not much time. Once the Elements were moved to action, they did so with a gusto reserved for the Eternals.
Madame Hesper sought out her son. The Vampyr hid in the shadows near the rear entrance. She would not have time to bring Holt back to human form, not if she wished to flee the building before it went up in a conflagration.
The ground split open. The priestess clawed at the dirt as she slid down the steep grade. Fire already crackled her anticipation of the destruction she was about to unleash. With no time to spare, Madame Hesper conjured the stench of garlic. Using it as a shield, she herded Holt up the back stairs.
No matter how much Madame Hesper wished to flee, she could not leave until she knew the Commander’s final plight.
Hot air blasted against their backs as they ascended the steps. The Drakol’s horror echoed off the walls. Madame Hesper turned to witness the priestess’s form being licked by Fire’s precocious children. Flames danced over the Drakol’s body as the priestess fell to the depths of the pit Earth had carved for her.
Air blew past Madame Hesper, screaming in her ear. Wind was not pleased, but he did agree to their negotiations. “Summon me, and your gust shall appear.”
Water flowed up the steps behind them. Her words were but a murmuring in Madame Hesper’s mind. “I am not unfair. This favor you ask does not settle our books, witch. Call, and I shall be there.”
Madame Hesper opened her mouth, but the stream of water had already receded.
Turning her attention back to her Cursed son, Madame Hesper corralled the Vampyr up the stairs. The entire world had gone askew. Ekoli had fallen to save the medium. Her son was consumed by bloodlust, and her daughter and grandson rushed headlong into their arduous destinies. Madame Hesper was afraid that the destruction below was just a precursor to the disaster that awaited her family.
***
Crystalia could not believe what Miss Emmert suggested. Their group had retired to a room lined with maps. Now, the woman proposed that they not follow Traven through the labyrinth. Crystalia had tried to hold her tongue during Miss Emmert and Emerald’s argument, but she could stifle her concern no longer. “We must follow Traven!”
Miss Emmert’s face twisted in frustration, but the emotion was only passing. Finally, the woman squeezed Crystalia’s shoulder and spoke in a kind voice. “I’ve tried to explain why that is impossible right now.”
“But if we hurry —”
The Faery fluttered in front of Crystalia. “And die like he is?”
“Emerald!” Miss Emmert snapped. “Crystalia, you must understand. The tunnels that Traven traveled through may not be present any longer.”
Crystalia was near tears. The Faery and Miss Emmert spoke of diural this and semiconscious that, but the Snowy Maiden could understand none of it. How could Crystalia leave her love to his fate when she did not even know why?
Luckily, the strange boy spoke up. “Miss Emmert, I am afraid I don’t quite get why we aren’t catching up with the Hero.”
The woman took a breath then spread her hands over the map to flatten it. “Do you see this?”
Crystalia and the boy both nodded. It was a schematic of the Labyrinth.
Satisfied that they were still following her, Miss Emmert continued. “This tangle — the one we labeled the Bowel. It is just that. This entire plateau is a living creature. His name is Gorlonn, or so we believe. This truly is his gut. Somehow the Hero must have —”
“Done something idiotic again.” Emerald pitched in but quieted when Miss Emmert shot her a stern look.
“Unknowlingly, Traven must have harmed the tunnel’s lining or one of its dwellers. Gorlonn is only trying to defend himself.”
Through unshed tears, Crystalia tried to make sense of the story. “Why can’t we just tell Gorlonn it was a mistake and have him deliver Traven to us?”
A knowing look passed between Emerald and Miss Emmert. Finally, the Faery gave a sharp nod then flittered off to sit on a ledge, glowering.
Miss Emmert explained. “Gorlonn lives, but does not think and communicate as we do. There is no truce between us. We do not even know if he is aware that we cohabit with him. The Fold is near his mouth, and through the centuries, the Quorum has keep him well-fed and quiescent. Now, though, he has been stirred.”
The boy pitched in. “I understand that the Hero is in danger, so why aren’t we rushing after him?”
“In defense, Gorlonn is shifting and merging the walls of the maze. I seriously doubt if we could even find Traven amongst the tangled confusion. This map is no longer accurate.”
Emerald could not help but interrupt again, “A lot of good it would do you even if you did find him.”
Crystalia was beginning to remember why she so intensely disliked the Faery in the first place. Miss Emmert only sighed though. Crystalia wanted to hear how wrong Emerald was, but Ornery’s mother did not look like she was going to rebuke the Faery.
“Emerald is blunt, but there is truth in what she speaks.” Miss Emmert hesitated as if she was loath to speak the next part. “We know Gorlonn has three main defenses. The first two traps, Traven and Pale may be able to defeat. The third... The third —”
“In the history of this Fold, no one has survived the Gullet. No one,” the Faery stated, flashing a heated look towards Miss Emmert.
Miss Emmert simply shrugged. “No one yet. That is why I have no intention of heading into the labyrinth.”
“But —”
Miss Emmert held up her hand to silence Crystalia, then traced her finger along the map’s parchment. “I plan to go topside and hasten up and around the Eyemouth, finally arriving at the Gullet — only on the other side of it. If we attack from both sides, we might have a chance to breach the barrier, freeing Traven and his party from the Labyrinth.”
Crystalia’s heart soared. They were coming to the Hero’s rescue after all. Why had Miss Emmert not just said so in the first place?
The hooded boy ruined her mood almost immediately. “Why didn’t the Hero just take the path over the Plains?”
“Well, for one…” Miss Emmert hesitated then seemed to regain her composure. “The Hero did not have the Centaurs’ speed to glide him over the barren snowfields, and with the Ice Princess in tow —”
“They have a right to know, Sele. You cannot ask the Snowy Maiden and The Way to take such a risk without knowing what they face.”
Both youngsters looked towards Miss Emmert. The woman braced herself before proceeding. “In order to cross from the Plains into the Tritons, we
must first navigate the Caitiff Pass.”
Emerald buzzed across the room, puffed up and red-faced. “How do you plan to defeat the Bastard if you can’t even talk about him?”
Crystalia took a step back as Miss Emmert’s anger bubbled over. “I have my reasons, Faery. If you could button your mouth long enough, you might hear them.”
The Faery bristled at the tone but obviously did not wish an all-out brawl with Sele. Emerald darted back to her place on the ledge, smoldering orange and yellow. Crystalia hardly heard Sele’s next words.
Looking down at her hand, Crystalia realized that the direction that was suggested would take them far away from Traven before they narrowed the distance. That would be most difficult. Could she bear to watch the sexton shift and Traven’s symbol rotate away? There would be a great ache in her heart, but she believed in Miss Emmert. Crystalia did not mean to fail Madame Hesper’s daughter as she had failed Sele’s mother.
Miss Emmert took a breath before she continued. “I have survived the Pass before and plan to do so again.”
“With Father?” the boy asked more eager-faced than Crystalia had ever seen before.
“Yes. The Centaurs and the Roué have a mutual enemy.”
“The Griffins?” Ornery asked. How did the boy suddenly know so much more than she did?
“Aye. My hope is that the Caitlyn still remembers Dimitri and the oath they swore.”
The Faery’s snort sounded loud enough for a draught horse, not a tiny woman. Emerald turned away rather than face Miss Emmert.
Once she was certain that the Faery would stay silent, Sele continued. “If the Caitlyn does not, there are others ways past the brute.” She hurried on before anyone could interrupt her. “Nevertheless, our greatest challenge shall be the Gullet. If we ever wish to depart, I need time alone with Emerald to make the final arrangements. Do I hear any argument?”
The two young adults chimed “nay” in unison.
“Then head to the stables and help prepare the wagon. We will leave within the hour.”
Crystalia was a bit tentative about leaving with the strange boy, but she could tell by Miss Emmert’s tone that the woman would tolerate no such delays. So Crystalia nodded curtly and followed Ornery out of the chamber, just glad that they were finally getting underway towards her beloved.
***
Ornery walked a few steps past the archway, then doubled back, nearly knocking Crystalia over. Before the girl could verbalize her surprise, Ornery put a hand over her mouth. He had not meant to do it — not meant to come into contact with her soft lips, but there he stood in the hallway, his palm to her mouth.
“Shh,” Ornery said as he released his hand. To hide his severely reddened face, Ornery turned back towards the map chamber.
Crystalia snuck up behind him and whispered in his ear. “Miss Emmert said to go to the horses.”
Ornery kept his back to the girl, afraid his desire would show clearly on his face. “The Faeries are already hitching the wagon. She just wanted to be alone with Emerald.”
“But shouldn’t we —”
“Don’t you want to know what she doesn’t want us to know?”
Ornery did not bother to wait for the Snowy Maiden’s answer. Her presence by his shoulder told of their shared curiosity. Creeping forward, he began to pick up the drift of conversation.
“I can’t hear anything,” Crystalia complained.
“Shh. I’ll tell you later. ”
Despite his body’s reaction to the girl, his mind was intent on the women’s conversation. By Miss Emmert’s tone, Ornery was glad he snuck back.
“Emerald, I wish there were another way.”
“Do you? Do you truly, Seleen? I think you care not.”
Ornery could imagine the flurry of colors Emerald must have been flashing in her anger.
“I know you’re flustered, Emerald, but we must discuss the Fold—”
“What is there to discuss? If you slay the Gullet, the Gorlonn will uproot and leave the Fold in ruins.”
Miss Emmert tried to interrupt. “But —”
“And if you succumb at the Gullet, the world will descend into chaos, and this Fold will be lost to the world. Either way, this place is forfeit.”
His mother’s response was so soft that Ornery could barely hear her voice.
“Will you accept no solace from me?” Silence smothered the room. Once no response was forthcoming from Emerald, Miss Emmert continued. “We must develop a strategy —”
“I evacuate the rest and wait.”
Crystalia nudged Ornery. “What are they saying?”
“If we save the Hero, the Fold will be destroyed. Now, shh!” Ornery turned his ears forward again, trying to reorient to the quiet tones in the other room.
Miss Emmert’s voice was sad and resigned. “You will be sure that Twig finds her way South.”
Emerald snapped, “You need not worry, Seleen. I will see that all are safe.”
“What do you mean?” Crystalia pestered him again.
Ornery heard scuffing of shoes and propelled Crystalia backward and down the hallway. “They’re coming. Run!” he whispered harshly.
The two raced down the hallway.
“Which way?” Crystalia panted in his ear.
Her hot breath nearly sent him tumbling. “I know the way.”
“How? The tunnels are so convoluted.”
Ornery took care not to betray the sudden pounding of his pulse. “I can smell my cousins. Now hurry, before we are caught in the hallway.”
Short of breath from their hasty flight, they ran into the stable area, where the Faeries were hard at work. Miss Emmert was only a few strides behind.
“Crystalia, ride in the back of the wagon.”
“But—”
Miss Emmert’s tone brooked no argument. “You are still not well. I need you rested for the journey ahead.”
Ornery tried to make as if he had been hooking up the tack. “Will Father be meeting us at the Pass?”
“You should know the answer to that Ornery, or did you not listen well enough while eavesdropping?”
The look on Ornery’s face must have betrayed his shame, for Miss Emmert’s voice took on a softer quality.
“We’ll talk later. For now, take the reins.”
Not wanting to vex Miss Emmert, he meant his mother, any further, Ornery nodded his agreement and hopped up into the wagon, pulse bounding in his ears. They were off. Every mile they traveled east, brought him a mile closer to his father. For that, Ornery would risk the Gullet, Gorlonn, and the Caitlyn, combined — nothing was going to stand in the way of this reunion.
***
Glacial hugged her knees as silent tears ran down her cheeks. Her ascension to the Icy Throne was not supposed to be like this. An entire royal entourage was to have carried her to the Winter King’s Castle. There was to have been ladies in waiting and incense to calm her mind and prepare her body for the offering.
What if the mad King found her wanting? Tugging at the bandage, Glacial stared at the gash upon her arm. In all her seventeen years at Thunderhead, she had not a blemish — not a single scratch or bruise to mar her perfect flesh.
Now she was sore of foot, smelled as if she had rolled in refuse, and her arm would have a scar that could be seen across the Feasting Hall. Their flight from Thunderhead had left her with no personal belongings besides the silks she had worn. They had not even salvaged a walrus-bone comb to smooth her hair.
The King would never accept his Winter Queen in such a state. But what was she to do?
The human would have no sympathy for her plight.
Traven was coarse and a brute, enjoying every moment of her distress. How could she tell him her needs? Her deepest fears.
Carefully, the Princess turned her head and watched the Hero breathe evenly in his sleep. She, too, should have been to bed, but the room reminded her so deeply of her home that Glacial was unwilling to shut her eyes. If she let her mind wander, blocking o
ut the last twenty-four hours, the Princess could almost imagine that she was back at the Hearth.
Glacial turned back to find Pale staring at her across the small fire. His eyes seemed to pierce her regal exterior and strike directly at her wounded heart.
Even though she was used to the beast wandering the Hearth, to be so near him and to watch the human communicate with the animal was disturbing. Worse, the Princess had to place her safety, and the survival of the world, in their hands. The thought made her shiver despite the flame’s warmth.
How Glacial wished her father were here. Or even Grave. The diminutive Giant had an odd liking for the White Wolf, which had always cheered her as a child. Grave would be able to chase the ghosts from her mind and bring a smile to her face. With the state of things now, Glacial was not even sure her lips could form a grin, let alone laugh. The Princess had no reason to feel merry.
If they dud survive this tangled gauntlet, what did she truly have to look forward to? The Matrons and Chieftains had made life with the Winter King seem so much like life within the Hearth that Glacial had never paused to consider what her people truly asked of her. The Princess could imagine an eternal life, living happily within Thunderhead or even another Hearth with her people, but now Glacial began to fear that the Icy Throne would be nothing like that.
Now, the princess had seen the outside world.
Glacial had tasted what fresh air felt like and how harsh the world could truly be. Were the Plains any indication of how the Winter King would hold his court? Was she expected to live an eternity in a frozen wasteland? Glacial shuddered again and lay back upon her thin bedding. The single-weave blanket gave little protection from the rocks and pebbles that littered the floor.
Despite the way her back complained at the hard bed, the Princess’s mind was far more pained. Sleep would be her best refuge from her future. Glacial was only now beginning to understand why they called the wedding ceremony Tthe Sacrifice.
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