Besides, his stomach felt sour again. Adjusting his weight, Traven realized that he could not dislike this flight any more than he already did. The eagle tried its best, but the wind rocked their course. It was only by the Hero focusing on the back of the raptor’s head, to the exclusion of all else, that Traven had managed to remain seated on the bird.
Over the whole journey, Corpse had rattled on about his favorite menu selections. Pale was no better. The wolf kept trying to prompt Traven to relate Pale’s choice of cuisine. Between the two of them, the Hero was lucky that he had not lost his stomach along with his dignity.
Miss Emmert would occasionally shout reports of their progress, but otherwise the group was flying blind. Clouds had rolled down from the north and obscured the night sky. Thunder boomed in the distance, and the wind grew more and more savage the closer they drew to the Icy Throne.
This, at least, was just like Granny’s story. Soon, they should be able to see the Icy Throne’s towering walls and hear the sound of blizzards being born.
***
Crystalia tried to keep the tears flowing, but her eyes were near cried out. She needed the moisture to scan the horizons. Every few minutes there would be a break in the cloud cover, and she would glimpse the Griffins up ahead. The beasts were huge and fierce but slow in flight. The Eagles were making headway, Crystalia was sure of it.
What she was not so sure of was what they would do once they caught up with the Griffins. Crystalia had witnessed the destruction of the creatures firsthand. Even with the Arctic Eagles’ talons and beaks, the Snowy Maiden was not certain that they could save Glacial, but saving the Ice Princess was not Miss Emmert’s main concern.
Keeping the Winter King’s Bride from the Icy Throne was. Crystalia had heard the woman tell Traven to knock the Princess from the Griffins’ hold, then worry about where Glacial fell later.
Crystalia shivered. Would Miss Emmert be so callous if it was the Snowy Maiden up ahead? Crystalia knew the world was at risk, but could they not be so calculating about it? The Snowy Maiden had to give Traven credit, once again, for his deep honor. The Hero had resolved to wrest the Ice Princess away from the Griffins, but had not agreed with Miss Emmert’s method. The tension between the two was as thick as the clouds surrounding them.
Communication was extinguished to almost nothing as the wind shrieked. The closer they drew to the Throne, the worse the weather. Sleet and hail were mixed together, pelting their party. Tightening her coat’s collar, Crystalia wondered if they might not all catch pneumonia before they reached the Icy Throne. Theirs would not be the first rescue party to succumb to the elements.
From her childhood, Crystalia had heard stories of search efforts that had gone awry. Any traveler that entered Last Hitch was warned that no rescue would be launched for them — the Plains were too unpredictable. Commander Packard had made that type of decision and did not have to take into account Crystalia’s current circumstances.
The Snowy Maiden’s party chased an enchanted Princess being kidnapped by a mythical creature into the maw of a mad god’s power. If the girl did not feel the rightness of their quest in her gut, Crystalia would have questioned all their sanity, but this group was beyond such judgment. They had no other option. Their bond drove them to grind themselves upon the Storm Gate, if necessary, to save Glacial.
Crystalia gasped as the clouds parted and revealed the Winter King’s Citadel. On the highest peak of the highest mountain stood the icy castle. It was a milky blue-white that shone against the night sky. The ice radiated a nearly blinding light. The frozen spires jutted into the sky, announcing the god’s dominion.
Turrets curved upward, seeming to penetrate the very heavens themselves. The impossibly tall icy walls were smooth beyond anything that man could create. Black, dark, heavy clouds circled the peaks, hiding the true height of the frozen cliffs. The Griffins were not far. Crystalia could make out Glacial’s limp form. With all the blood staining, Crystalia hoped the girl was only unconscious and not dead.
Before she could alert the others, Crystalia’s Eagle screamed its challenge. Crystalia was nearly unseated as the bird banked and dove. For a moment, the Snowy Maiden did not know what was happening, but suddenly she caught site of a Griffin streaking towards them. One of the beasts must have gained altitude while still shrouded by the clouds.
Iron Claw did the best he could, but the Griffin was upon them within a heartbeat. The Eagle rolled to use his claws, but the huge attacker had the advantage. The Griffin’s claws dug deep into the Eagle’s chest, and blood spurted from the lancing wounds.
Crystalia shouted as the Eagle’s body pitched and rolled. With the next lurch of its wings, Crystalia was thrown from Iron Claw’s back. Hurtling through the air, plummeting to the ground, Crystalia screamed into the cold air. She did not need to check her palm; she knew her lifeline was just about run out.
***
Traven reacted upon instinct and urged his Eagle down and to the left. The Hero had no idea how to steer a giant beast such as this, but he did the best he could. Traven knew Miss Emmert had not hesitated in her pursuit and still sped towards Glacial, but the Hero could not watch the Snowy Maiden die.
It was Traven’s fault that the girl was even here. Crystalia tumbled through the air, hurtling to her certain death.
The Eagle seemed to understand Traven’s intent and folded his wings tight against his body. They streaked towards the falling Snowy Maiden. As they neared, the Hero could see the stark terror on Crystalia’s face. Ignoring his lurching stomach, Traven leaned close to the Eagle, keeping their drag to a minimum.
For a moment, the Hero feared they were too late, but the Eagle tilted sideways and snatched Crystalia’s dress midair. Flapping his wings again, the eagle strove for altitude — there was still an aggressive Griffin somewhere in the vicinity.
Up ahead, Traven could make out two Eagles still striving towards the Icy Throne. He had no idea where the other two eagles had gotten to, but the Hero urged his raptor towards the Winter Citadel. He could not let Crystalia die like that, but he feared the delay might endanger Glacial.
Could his choices never be easy?
***
Crystalia felt her fur coat begin to rip. At first it was just a little tear, but suddenly she could feel the frigid wind on her back. She yelled to the Hero, but he did not seem to hear her. Crystalia reached up and tried to keep a grip on the Eagle’s huge talon, but its skin was slick from the sleet and rain.
From above, another Griffin attacked. Traven’s Eagle was ready and banked out of the way. Not knowing its purchase on her was compromised, the Eagle released her coat with one claw, using its talons against the Griffin. Crystalia screamed as her dress gave a final rip, and she slipped out of the Eagle’s grasp.
“Maiden! To me!” a shout rose from below.
Looking down, she found another Arctic Eagle coasting below her.
“Let go! Now!” the voice urged.
Crystalia hesitated, but Traven’s Eagle banked again, dislodging her slippery hold on the beast’s foot. Praying to every god she had ever heard of, Crystalia let go completely.
For a brief second, she was in free-fall again, then she landed hard upon the other Eagle’s neck. With the wind knocked out of her, Crystalia clung to the bird’s feathers as her rescuer hauled the rest of her body up onto the Eagle’s back.
“There you go.” Turning around, the Snowy Maiden meant to hug her savior, but it turned out to be Corpse. The dead man smiled brightly, as if this was all just a great game to him. “Seems we are destined to ride together everywhere.”
Still jittery from her near miss, Crystalia did not respond.
Instead, she looked to her palm. Her lifeline still wavered and pulsed — the fall was not the end to her dangers, it seemed.
***
With the Snowy Maiden relatively safe upon Corpse’s Eagle, Traven pulled his sword and helped his Eagle fend off the Griffin’s attack. Each minute they wasted here was a m
oment the Ice Princess was at risk. He wished to dispatch this creature as quickly as possible and hurry to Glacial’s side, but that was easier wished for than accomplished.
Pale’s bird joined in the fray, but the lone Griffin still tore at them with claw and fang. Traven urged his Eagle to dive down. While Pale harassed the creature, the Hero’s Eagle slid up underneath of the Griffin. While the creature’s attention was drawn upward, Traven planted his sword deep into the beast’s belly. The Griffin let out a bellow of pain, but the Hero did not stop. He drew the blade forward and sliced the creature’s gut.
Claws flailed at him, but Traven knew the Griffin was done for. Intestines slipped out the beast’s wound as the Eagle banked sharply, taking them out of harm’s way.
Exhilaration gave way to concern almost immediately as clouds obscured his vision. The towering walls of the Winter Citadel were now covered by the dark gloom. How were they supposed to find the Storm Gate through this thick fog? But Traven guessed that was exactly the point of the camouflage.
The Winter King would do anything to keep them from his throne room — anything.
***
Ornery could not help but look over his shoulder every other moment. He had hated to leave Crystalia behind in such danger, but Miss Emmert had given orders to his Eagle through mindspeak to follow her bird, and Ornery could not turn the Eagle’s course.
Anger burned his cheeks. If he truly was The Way, his mother would have to be the first to start treating him like it.
The clouds were thick, but the Eagle flew in a straight line. Miss Emmert was just in front of him. Her Eagle gave a high-pitched shriek and peeled sharply to the right. The Citadel’s blue-white walls were right in front of them. Ornery’s own Eagle turned and pitched, skimming up the vertical wall.
“Hold on! The Storm Gate is —” Miss Emmert’s words were cut off by a blast of air. The velocity was so great that it shoved her Arctic Eagle back several feet. The bird flapped its giant wings in vain, never gaining a single inch.
Billowing clouds rolled out of the Gate, tumbling Miss Emmert’s bird head over tail. Ornery barely had time to react before her Eagle righted itself and swooped in next to his bird. They glided side by side for a few heartbeats. The wind died, and the air became perfectly still.
Time seemed to falter for a moment as moonlight streamed over them. Miss Emmert looked up and pointed. “Now!”
Both eagles rose together and raced towards the Storm Gate. Its surface was opaque with streaks of black swirling around the center. Ornery’s mother pulled in a deep breath and shouted two words he could not understand. Her voice pierced the silence.
The Gate’s center became clear, but the edges still wavered, black and threatening. The birds dove through the opening. Before Ornery’s Eagle could make it all the way through, the orifice lashed out with a wicked gale. Knocked from his perch, Ornery crashed to the icy floor. His bird was not so lucky. The wind tore feathers from its wing, hurling the Eagle backwards through the gate. Ornery tried to scramble to his feet, but his ankle screamed in protest. The joint throbbed and sent pain shooting each time he tried to bear weight.
“Hurry!” Miss Emmert shouted, holding her hand out for Ornery to join her on the remaining Eagle.
He tried to run across the slick floor, but his leg would not cooperate. Stumbling, Ornery fell to the floor. When he looked up, he found a Griffin landing right before him. The beast reared on its hind legs, threatening with both front paws. Its mouth was wide open, showing its many fangs. Ornery knew he was looking death right in the face.
***
Damn, but the clouds were thick, Traven thought as they searched the walls for the Storm Gate. The eagles had reached the Winter Citadel but could not find the only entrance through the thick ice walls. The Hero had tried to follow the wind back to its source, but the currents were so erratic that they had ended up flying in circles. If they did not find the entrance soon, Traven knew that all would be lost. Miss Emmert was capable, and the boy Ornery had the heart of a champion, but Traven knew the battle would not be decided by either of his companions.
To have any hope of surviving this ordeal, the Hero would have to face the Winter King himself. Granny had said so.
Not that Traven relished this meeting. Each of Granny’s tellings of the Battle for the Icy Throne was different. In some, The Man Who Did Not Know emerged victorious. In others, the Winter King rose from his frosty realm and shattered the world with his frigid touch. As the conflict at the Gullet had shown, prophecy was a tricky bedfellow.
“Hero!” Crystalia shouted from Corpse’s bird.
Traven turned to find her pointing down. He followed her finger but could see nothing that resembled the Storm Gate. Pale sent him an image of an entrance, but Traven could still not make it out. What were they talking about?
Finally, the wolf simply demanded that the Hero follow. With no other option, Traven urged his bird to pursue his diving companions. They descended past the icy walls for the longest time, but still he saw nothing.
Pale tried to reassure the Hero that their course was correct, but with each foot they plunged, the more wary Traven became. In none of the tales did the Storm Gate lie at the foundation of the Citadel. It was always near the top, near the Icy Throne. Traven was certain that the wolf had lost his senses when they all alighted on the rocky ground. They were at the base of Winter’s Citadel. The wall of ice towered above them. Its presence was so great that it nearly stifled Traven’s sense of urgency.
“Hero! They must have breached the Gate!” Crystalia shouted as she leapt off the Eagle. The girl looked shaken, but the expression on her face was fierce.
“We must join them!” Traven relayed as he crossed the rocks to join the rest of his party.
Crystalia shook her head. “Miss Emmert must have forced her entry with magick. The Gate is now sealed.”
“The Storm Gate cannot by sealed!” Traven responded. The girl was obviously panicking. The gods knew he did not want to take wing again, but that was exactly what they must do. “We must —”
Pale tried to intrude into Traven’s mind, but the Hero blocked the wolf. It was bad enough trying to wring some sense into the girl. He did not need to be listening to Pale’s meal selections as well.
I felt the Gate close, Traven. Feel the weather. Feel the clouds. They are without direction.”
The Hero lost his temper and immediately regretted it. “How would you know?”
Crystalia’s face frowned for a moment then resolve settled in. “I am the Snowy Maiden, Hero. Do not doubt me on this.”
“I’m sorry, Crystalia, but I need more to go on than your —”
Pale’s barking drew their attention. The wolf scratched at the icy wall. Traven could not even hear himself think while Pale made such a commotion.
Striding over, the Hero chastised the wolf with his thoughts. Pale shrugged off the reprimand and sent a cascade of images to Traven. There was stale air nearby. Air that came from the Citadel. Traven begrudgingly agreed with the wolf’s assessment.
Perhaps there was another way into the Icy Throne besides the Storm Gate. Frustrated, the Hero gave Pale permission to search the base. At this point, he did not care if they chewed their way through the ice. They just needed to get inside the damn castle.
“Pale agrees. Let us help him in his search.”
With every moment that passed, the Hero’s teeth ground together. They might encircle the whole base and never find the supposed opening. What would he tell his superiors at Mount Shrine if he failed here? Then the sobering thought hit Traven. If they were defeated here, there would be no scolding by the Imperial Council, because there would be no Imperial Council. No Mount Shrine, no Magpie Landing, no anything, if the Winter King entered this world.
Pale barked sharply, and the group ran to the wolf’s side. By Pale stood a crack in the solid ice. The Hero was not certain if he could even shimmy through it, let alone squeeze in the Arctic Eagles. Besides, how did
they know the fissure led to the interior?
“Does it go all the way through?” Crystalia echoed his concern.
The wolf flooded Traven’s mind with images of the wolf’s old den. Pale’s aunt, Scry, was in the center of the mind-picture. She had told of the Winter Citadel and the spiral staircase that led to the Icy Throne.
From his urgency, Pale believed that this was the entrance to the steps. Traven eyed the crack more closely but could not tell if it penetrated through the entire wall.
“I’m not sure,” Traven answered Crystalia’s earlier question.
“This is the correct way,” Corpse interrupted. “The prophecies are converging, Hero. We must scale these steps if we wish to spare The Bride in time.”
Traven’s anger flared. “Corpse, there are no prophecies regarding —”
The dead man smiled in that disconcerting way of his. “This is where I lose my hand.”
“What? How can you be sure?”
Corpse’s voice became grim again. “Because I am falling in love with the Snowy Maiden.”
***
Corpse’s words barely mattered to Crystalia. Love, or the lack there of, was not the issue here. Convincing Traven that the Storm Gate was closed forever, and that they had to take an alternate route, was the most important concern. If that meant Corpse would look at her forever with moony eyes, then she would accept that price.
“What does the wolf say?” Crystalia asked. She had noticed Pale’s insistent gaze towards Traven. Miss Emmert had explained the Hero and White Wolf’s mental bond.
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