Without thinking, the Hero leaned forward and kissed the Snowy Maiden’s forehead. “Yes, you saved us all.”
The girl blushed and leaned against his shoulder. Traven was amazed at how his body responded to the Snowy Maiden’s presence. Was it prophecy or true emotion that drew them together in this moment? Shattering the stillness, a rumbling came from beneath the floor. The Voltaics must have sensed the Winter King’s departure and were returning to finish their hunt.
Traven yelled to the others, “Move!”
The Hero had intended to take the stairs down, but Pale sent a clear image of the shattered steps. There would be no descending that route. Traven turned to Corpse. “Is there another way down?”
The dead man shook his head. “You are asking the wrong man, Hero.”
Holt stumbled forward, his broken wing dragging on the ground. “From the sky, I had spotted an icy rampart that connects to the mountain range. We might be able to cross that to safety.”
Traven appreciated the man’s words, but how were they going to get out of the Citadel? With the Storm Gate closed and the stairwell blocked, they were trapped in the icy tower.
***
Ornery set Glacial down. The others were wrangling over how they might breach the thick ice.
“Can Crystalia melt our way through?” he asked, surprised the others had not thought of it.
Traven kneeled next to the Snowy Maiden. Ornery could see the concentration on the girl’s face, but quickly she cried out. Her hands were too badly damaged to take the heat again. The room shook as the Voltaics neared. They would come crashing through any moment, and the shape the party was in, they would not hold out a minute against those giant creatures.
Instinctively, Ornery stabbed at one of the few remaining Fire Toads who had leapt too closely to Miss Emmert. Would these things never die? As the ice floor melted under the Toad’s body, Ornery knew he had the answer. “Quickly, everyone! Grab a toad!”
Picking up the still-squirming amphibian with his knife point, Ornery ran over to the north wall and ground the Toad against the ice wall. Slowly but surely, the heat ate away at the thick wall. “Hurry! We need more.”
Traven, Holt, and Corpse scoured the room for more Toads as Ornery melted a passageway out. Pale whined next to the boy. The wolf had no way of capturing the Fire Toads without himself being burnt.
“Drag the women over, Pale.”
Crystalia was already awkwardly trying to lift Miss Emmert from the floor. Ornery turned back to the wall. It was too hard to see his mother like that. To see the Ice Princess so limp was almost as bad. No, he had to concentrate on the wall. Soon, as the men added more Toads to the group, a veritable waterfall coursed down the wall. They would only need a few more minutes, and they would be free of the Citadel.
***
With Pale’s help, Crystalia maneuvered Miss Emmert towards Ornery. The Snowy Maiden wished she could do more, but in her current level of pain, it was all she could do to stay conscious herself. It felt like her hands were still aflame, but really it was her forehead that burned the most. Where Traven had kissed her still pounded and throbbed. Even though she knew he had only meant it as a show of a comrade’s affection, Crystalia could not dampen her body’s response. The Hero could still make her heart sing.
The floor shook again so violently that Crystalia had to fall to her knees to keep her balance. An ear-splitting sound rang through the chamber. It was the timbre of frozen floor splitting open. If they survived this ordeal, Crystalia hoped to never hear the sound of ice cracking again. This time the Voltaics were fast out of the crack that they had created, scrambling towards the Snowy Maiden’s party.
“Hurry!” Ornery said as he swiped the Fire Toads against the ice. He had made a hole, not very large, but all the way through to the stormy night.
Shoving as hard as she could, Crystalia pushed Glacial through the opening. Pale had left her side to rejoin Traven, who was in combat with the Voltaics. The sounds of battle rang through the chamber, but Crystalia kept her mind focused on the task at hand. The Snowy Maiden could do nothing more as a weapon, but she could help speed their escape. Peering out into the blizzardy night, Crystalia wondered if they might not be as safe staying to face the Voltaics.
***
Holt’s shattered bones screamed each time he lunged or sliced, but what was he to do, hang back in the shadows and allow his companions to be slaughtered by these enormous creatures? He would have time enough to pamper his broken wing once they were free of this blasted Citadel. He would hate this place until he took his last breath. Holt had lost his love this night. To compound his loss, his sister was struck down, perhaps so grievously that she might never awaken.
But grief would have to wait as the battle raged on. The Voltaics were all tentacle and claw. No matter how many times you struck the damn beasts, they simply sprouted a new and uglier appendage. The fight was beginning to feel futile. Right now, there only hope was to delay the creatures long enough so the others might make an escape.
Beside him, Pale fought valiantly. The wolf’s claws and teeth flashed in the dim light. The Vampyr within Holt admired the lust and sinew that the wolf threw into the fight. Holt’s own bloodlust was high. He wished to simply bare his fangs into the Voltaics and suck the life from them, but their skin was coated with the foulest-tasting secretion, preventing him from gaining a purchase.
“Go!” Traven yelled and waved everyone towards the opening Ornery had created. Corpse screamed something back, but the words were unclear
Holt took another slice at a waving tentacle and answered Traven. “Not without you.”
The Hero was brave and a glorious champion. However, he was a horrible liar. “I will join you.”
Holt closed the distance between them. “It is all or none, Traven. You cannot hold them alone.”
“Will you get out of the way!” Corpse shouted, this time loud enough to carry over the fighting.
Holt looked over to find the dead man was hefting a battle-ax with the only hand left to him. The Vampyr within him refused to give up the fight. Holt still slashed and tore even as Corpse flung the ax, but the trajectory was not towards the Voltaics. Instead, the weapon flew upwards towards the ceiling. Too late, Holt realized the dead man’s plan. The ax severed the icy chain that suspended the huge icicle chandelier. The spiked sconce plummeted to the floor.
Pale knocked Holt aside as the sharp points speared into the Voltaics. Scrambling to his feet, Holt surveyed the damage. One Voltaic was dead, and the other was deeply wounded. Their companion wailed in grief.
“Run!” Ornery shouted from the hole in the icy wall.
Holt nodded to Traven. It was now or never as the floor shook again. More of the infernal creatures were on their way. Remaining a moving target was their only hope.
*****
CHAPTER 36
Traven turned and ran. There was nothing pretty about their retreat. Nothing that the Hero would want his mentors back at Mount Shrine to witness, but it got them across the room before the other four Voltaics burst through the icy floor.
“Go!” Traven screamed as Ornery waited by the opening. The young boy threw himself out the hole. Pale and Corpse shimmied through after. Holt had a more difficult time with his broken wing, but finally cleared the narrow passage.
The Hero lunged for the opening, but a tentacle caught his boot. Without even turning around completely, Traven sliced the offending limb from his foot and jumped for the hole. On the other side, the Hero was greeted by a bitter wind. Containing the Winter King had done nothing to ease the intense cold outside the Citadel.
Fanning out in front of them was a broad sheet of ice that sloped away from the Citadel. The slick surface ended at the base of the surrounding mountain range. It was a steep grade, and the climb down should have been handled with great care. Unfortunately, they did not have the time for such finesse. From the gnawing sounds emanating from the other side of the wall, they did not have much
time to make their escape before the Voltaics broke through. Traven reached down to pick up the still form of Miss Emmert, but Holt stopped him.
“I will take my sister, Hero.”
Traven did not bother to argue. Glacial was already in Ornery’s arms, leaving the injured Snowy Maiden without an escort. Traven swept Crystalia up into his arms. “Hurry.”
The Citadel shook so violently that the Hero feared that the icy castle would crumble before they had reached safely. No one had to be encouraged as they fled down the slippery sheet. At first Traven ran, but quickly his feet lost traction. Flailing, the Hero kept Crystalia safe but fell hard on his arse. Once Traven was off his feet, he could not control his descent. Soon, everyone was slipping and sliding down the swath of ice.
“Wahoo!” Corpse yelled as he skidded past Traven. It seemed the dead man enjoyed their wild ride down the slope. The Hero was not so excited. Granted, they were rapidly pulling away from the Citadel, but now they careened towards the ragged mountains. Those rocks would be unforgiving if they should smash into them at their present speed.
Shifting Crystalia’s weight, Traven positioned his sword so that it scraped against the ice. The maneuver slowed them greatly, but the Hero was certain that the edge of his blade would never be the same. With the exception of Corpse, everyone else followed suit and slowed their descent.
Pale’s claws began to bleed from the strain, but the wolf kept his nails dug firmly into the ice. The only problem was that Pale kept spinning around in little circles as he slid down the sheet. The wolf had such a look of distress on his usually noble face, that Traven wished that he could help, but the Hero was a bit occupied with his own descent. Traven had never been much good at sledding, even as a child, let alone doing it on his breeches.
The Hero felt the trembling of the ice sheet far before he heard the sound. Looking back over his shoulder, Traven watched as the Citadel rocked and swayed. With one final, deafening crack the Winter King’s castle split in half. The tall spires leaned and pitched for a moment as if they were made of fabric. Finally, the strain was too great, and the top of the Citadel tumbled down. Huge blocks of ice crashed onto the sheet of ice they were descending. The chunks hurled down the icy slide, rapidly gaining on Traven’s party.
Pulling his sword out of the ice, the Hero warned the others, “Full speed!” They would have to worry about the rocks, if and when they got that far.
***
Ornery clung to the weak Princess. Things were bad enough. He did not need to lose hold of Glacial, too. They were near the base of the mountain, but even that was not good news. The chunks of ice were right behind them. If Ornery and the rest did not kill themselves upon colliding with the mountain, the ice blocks would surly crush them like a hammer on an anvil.
“This way!” Corpse gleefully called out. The dead man had skidded around a corner where the ice flowed between mountain slopes. Ornery followed the sound of Corpse’s laughter. Looking behind him, Ornery watched the rest of his companions brake and bank to the right. Willing his fingers to once again form a claw, Ornery dug his nail into the ice and changed course. The gap in the rocks was narrow, and for a brief moment, Ornery closed his eyes, certain that they were going to hit, but they did not. Instead, they slid down the cramped, curved slope, gaining speed.
“I’d slow down if I were —” Corpse warned just before he careened into a sudden dead end.
Ornery wrapped his legs around Glacial’s still form, transformed both hands into hooked claws, and buried them deep into the ice. The noise his claws made was atrocious, but it slowed them enough so that they stopped just inches from the stony wall. The others were lucky as well and halted short of the dead end. The sound of the ice blocks smashing into the mountainside echoed off the small canyon. It took several minutes before the area was quiet again.
Corpse rolled over and moaned, “Remind me not to feel quite so invincible next time.”
***
Crystalia sprang out of the Hero’s arms. It was not that she didn’t like the feel of Traven’s arms around her. It was that she feared she would grow too accustomed to it, and Crystalia could not make the same mistake again. She was the Snowy Maiden now, not some love-sick girl. Crystalia would carry herself like the lady that she had become.
“We need to seek cover,” the Snowy Maiden said, trying to sound very responsible.
“My sister and Glacial need attention,” Holt slurred through his pointy teeth.
Traven nodded but urged them all up. “We all need rest, but we need shelter more. This blizzard is just winding up. It will worsen during the night.”
“Which way do we head?” Ornery asked.
Everyone answered in unison. “South.”
Crystalia shrugged the Hero’s helpful arm. “My legs are fine, Traven. Help Holt with Miss Emmert.”
The Vampyr rebuffed Traven’s offer, but after a few steps in the knee-high snow, Holt allowed the Hero to bear the burden of carrying Miss Emmert. It took some cajoling from Crystalia, but Holt finally agreed to ride the White Wolf. Ornery was surprisingly reluctant to relinquish carrying Glacial as well, but Corpse needed another body to warm his own, so in the end, Ornery had lifted the Ice Princess into the dead man’s arms.
The hike out of the canyon was silent except for the howling wind. Without the glow from the Icy Citadel, the world was a pitch black. Only by the feel of the rocks could they guide their descent into the mountain range proper. It seemed that hours dragged by, but Crystalia was certain it was not even a full hour before her legs began cramping.
Ornery was the first to admit the futility of their current progress. “This is getting us no closer to shelter. Is there not a Fold nearby or something?”
Crystalia snorted a bit. Did the boy think that Folds were littered about in the most convenient of spots? But she was as cold and fatigued as the rest of them, so she stopped along with the rest of her party to discuss their course.
Traven shook his head. “The Folds are hidden to all but a few. Even Pale is aware of only the Cider Fold’s location. It is like looking for a snowflake amongst a blizzard. We would be better suited searching for an animal’s den or burrow to crawl into.”
Palm itching, Crystalia rubbed her hands together. Was she getting frostbite already? The Snowy Maiden was so sore and cramped that she did not think she could start upon the trek again. Perhaps they should just curl up here and hope they survived the night. Freezing to death, she had heard was sort of peaceful, for a way to die that is.
“You two are the saviors of the world. Don’t either of you have a clue about the Great Mysteries?” Corpse asked, sounding quite disbelieving that he had fallen in with such an uneducated crowd.
“Maybe Glacial knows?” Crystalia asked.
The Hero shook his head. “I do not think she does.”
“But you said she opened the Cider Fold.”
“Pale is the one that found it for her.”
Crystalia slumped. It had been such a good idea. Leaning up against a rock, the Snowy Maiden rubbed at her hands again. Why were her palms acting up so badly? Burns had never itched like this before. The wind raged, and snow blew into her nose, making her nostrils cringe. The longer they delayed, the less she felt like trying. Where did they hope to find shelter, out here in the Great Barrens?
Palms stinging so badly, Crystalia finally bent over and stared at them in the darkness. The lines of Traven’s sexton glowed a faint red. So faint that she feared it was an illusion made by the deep scalding of her palms, but there was no mistaking the Hero’s symbol. The Snowy Maiden would know it anywhere.
Glacial moaned as Corpse readjusted her weight, but Miss Emmert made no sound at all in Traven’s arms. Perhaps the older woman was the luckiest of them all. She did not have to endure this fateful decision. Either choice most likely left them for dead.
Would her hand not stop itching? Despite the sting of her burns, Crystalia took her nails to the skin and scratched hard and fast, trying to
quiet the nagging sensation. Instead, itching the area made the faint glow bloom into a brilliant red. The symbols radiated with such light that they might be able to navigate by her palm’s illumination.
Reinvigorated by the find, Crystalia held out her hand. “Look.”
***
Traven stared at the Snowy Maiden’s palm. She was right/ The light was growing with each moment, but what good would it really do them? The wind was blowing with such force that it nearly snatched their words away. The ache in his ear was getting so bad that the Hero was afraid his hearing would be lost soon. The wound on his thigh ached, and he could feel each and every injury of Pale’s. Taking a look around at their tattered party, Traven realized they could travel no further tonight.
“Hey, I’ve seen that symbol before,” Ornery said as he examined Crystalia’s palm.
Off-handedly Traven answered, “It is my Hero’s emblem.”
“No, this one. It was etched in the Fold’s room where my mother and I visited.”
Looking more closely, the Hero was not so certain. “There was nothing like that in my room.”
Pale came over and nosed the Snowy Maiden’s hand. The wolf agreed with the boy. The symbol on Crystalia’s palm was from the Cider Fold. But what of it?
“Perhaps it means something,” Crystalia said quietly. “Maybe it is a map.”
“Guiding you to me,” Traven replied, a bit too harshly. He did not want anyone’s hopes raised, especially not his own. “That is what the spirit sexton is for.”
“Hello? Has anyone else noticed that there are seven defining symbols?” Corpse stated as he studied the sexton.
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