by AB Bradley
I just want to peek at them. I’ll be back before Sander’s even spotted dinner.
The slope increased and air thinned. Another howl closer than the others punctured the quiet of the forest. Iron licked his lips and wrapped more of the Sinner’s magic around him. He charged at an outcrop casting its shadow before him. Slamming his feet against the snow, he soared in a graceful arc and landed atop the icy granite.
He slipped on a patch of ice, and his knee hit the rock. Iron cursed, closing his eyes and sucking in a breath through the wall of his teeth. Sander never fell. Thank the Six his master wasn’t nearby to tease his apprentice about the sloppy landing.
Iron ignored his throbbing knee and continued on. The slope had flattened and trees thinned. Beyond, a frozen pond glimmered like polished porcelain dusted with sugar.
Yet another howl echoed against the summit, this time from shadows thrown by pines ringing the icy pool. Iron slowed. His footfalls made not a sound atop the snow. Only the periodic whoosh of tired wind rolling down the mountain disturbed the air, every so often accompanied by eager thunder from the storm gathering behind the peaks.
He came to the last few trees bordering the lake. Two tall pines weighed by snow bent from one another, forming a thin V that opened to the ice. Iron crouched between the trunks. He pressed his hands feather light against the rough, chilly bark. His breath escaped from his lips in warm clouds.
Movement disturbed the shadows on the shore. The wolves approached. They’re heading onto the lake, he thought. He scanned the ice. Nothing broke the flat save a small island just above the surface.
Iron caught his breath. He leaned into the gap. So that’s what they’re after. Beautiful.
And it was.
I don’t think I’m going to make it back for dinner.
CHAPTER TWO
The Wary Hunter
Iron crouched between the trunks. Loose snow disturbed by his foot spilled over the frozen lake. The wolves might have heard him. Then again, he didn’t really care. No one would care facing the scene revealed before him. This island breaking over the frozen waters, this island that was the lake’s heart, this was where all things lingered that mattered in Iron’s world.
The island rose a gentle slope above the ice, a round mound of billowy snow. Not a single blade of grass, reed, or rock broke the pristine surface, save for a single enormous, leafless tree rising in a twisted curl.
Bark black as a shadow in the night coated its gnarled trunk. Branches long and spindly towered above the snow and clawed at the sky; not a single rebel flake drifting from the clouds dared mar its midnight surface. Iron had never seen a tree like this before. It reminded him of what he had learned of the great oaks growing in the forests of Blail. Those trees were ancient giants that drank the sun as they watched generations of men rise and fall beneath their boughs. No trees like this grew in the Everfrosts though, or if they did, he’d never seen them.
Yet even that dark sentinel couldn’t hold a candle against the doe standing before it. Fur white as snow blanketed her—did his eyes deceive him, or did her coat even sparkle in the light? Her eyes were wide, dark pools that drank the world and held it tight within eternity. Her small nose ebbed skyward, her nostrils swelling with a deep breath. Her gaze settled on him, and there it rested.
Iron’s hand went to the dagger tucked in his belt. A sword would be silly to hurl across the lake, but his dagger? A little push with the Sinner’s magic, and the thin blade would race across the pond and bury in the animal’s heart. Sander could cook this meat. It would be much more tender than an elk or greyhorn.
His fingers clasped the hilt. They lingered there, unable to slip the weapon from its sheath. Iron licked his dried lips. The air had already chilled in preparation for the thundersnow clawing its way from behind the mountains. If he wanted to kill the doe, he’d have to do it now or risk getting caught in the storm.
He shook his head, and his hand slipped from the weapon. “You’re not meant for me to hunt,” he whispered.
A breath puffed from her nose. She blinked, and behind her, a work of magic sparked like nothing he had ever seen. Green stalks pushed their way to the surface of the tree’s limbs and spotted the black. Their stalks twisted and unfurled, splaying emerald tongues over the bark. Scarlet buds swelled between the leaves, and they split into brilliant roses red as blood from a fresh cut.
Within heartbeats, a tree once dead and blackened swayed with the life of a thousand blooms and verdant leaves. In the world of the Everfrosts where white and grey were the only colors Iron knew, the shocking vibrancy of the red and green left him dumbstruck.
“You see me,” he rasped, gaze still locked within the doe’s. “Why don’t you fear me?”
A low growl interrupted his reverie. A creature gnarled and black as the island’s tree stalked onto the pond. It was a large animal covered in greasy fur. It walked on four paws, and its white teeth dripped saliva onto the ice, which hissed in protest from each drop. The rabid beast glared at the doe with eyes of hateful amber.
Iron had never seen a wolf, but he’d studied them many times. No wonder people hated and feared them. Something about the creature…Iron shivered. No, this was something more than a hungry predator. Something darker, tainted.
He wiped cold sweat beading on his brow, wishing Sander was crouched beside him and acutely aware of his throbbing knee from his clumsy landing. His master would know what to do. His master would have the right words, the right smile to calm Iron’s nerves.
No. I’ll be fine. I’ll show him I can survive without him.
A second wolf rustled through the trees opposite the first. They slowly made their way over the snowy ice. The doe still had her eyes locked on Iron and made no move to escape the predators.
For some reason, Iron’s heart twisted. He wanted the doe to live. He wanted her to bound into the forest and leave the beasts behind. Why wouldn’t she?
“Just run,” he whispered. “The wolves are unsteady on ice. You can escape!”
A whip of violet lightning cracked from the thundersnows and smashed into a peak, blasting ice and rock into the sky. Whistling winds tore through the forest, sending the blossoms on the black tree fluttering from their stalks. Petals fell like bloodstained snowflakes around the doe, but not a single one touched her.
One of the wolves howled. Two more answered its call and filtered from the trees. Four wolves, all black and bearing dripping fangs, descended on the animal. She had no escape now. The trap would close around her.
Iron’s chin trembled. Tears welled in his eyes and gave the world an oiled sheen. “Run. Why don’t you save yourself?”
The doe took a step forward. The wolves halted and raised their haunches, their wide backs rippling with their deep growls.
Forgive us, a woman’s soothing voice whispered. It came from nowhere and everywhere all at once, from every tree and rock and flake of snow. It surrounded him, comforted him.
The circle is broken, Iron.
“Who are you?” Iron asked.
A Sun that set rises once again. Beware the Serpent, Iron, for he comes in many forms, and the Sun he raises will be your destruction. Stop him, Fireborn, and save what good is left in this world. The circle is broken. Forgive us. Forgive us…
The doe closed her eyes. She bowed, bringing her head to the ground. The last fluttering scarlet petals piled around her.
The black wolves snarled and charged onto the island. They descended on the small doe in a flurry of black and sharpened claw. Bones cracked. Flesh tore. Splashes of red sprayed the white.
“No!” Iron screamed. He lost his footing and slipped onto the frozen lake. The thundersnow gathered its rage and exploded beyond the summits, a wall of snow and ice spilling from its belly onto the mountainside.
The wolf pack paused its slaughter. Eight beaded amber eyes lifted from their meal and focused on him. Blood dripped from the wolves’ jaws. Pale fur stuck between their fangs. Iron looked the largest wolf
straight on. It cocked its head in a terrifyingly human manner and slowly blinked.
For a brief moment, Iron crouched in the snow and ice while the wolves glared without so much a growl slipping from their jaws. Behind them, the thundersnow barreled down the mountainside, the deathly cloud flashing with the lightning within it.
Iron wobbled to his feet. Wind whistled through his hair, tossing it from his brow. The alpha wolf’s lips slid up its snout in a wicked snarl.
“Oh, shi—”
A howl drowned his curse. The beasts charged onto the lake. Iron twisted around, his heartbeat thundering harder than the storm behind him.
He gathered the Sinner’s magic more than he’d ever done before, even more than the time he’d broken both legs using his power in a foolish stunt. Magic roared through his blood, seizing his lungs. Too much, fool!
Iron’s body burst into inky smoke. He leapt ashore and tore into the trees. All around him, snow and ice plummeted from their perches on the heavy branches. His magic sent him speeding over the outcropping where he’d tripped. Iron leapt in a graceful arc, and for a heartbeat he crested the trees, glimpsing the horribly tiny blot in the valley that was his home.
He crashed into the snows. A lance of pain tore up his knee. He cried out through the tears it brought but continued on, the pain a distant echo compared to the terror roaring within him.
Branches slapped and cut his cheeks. The Sinner’s magic kept him mostly ethereal, but half a ghost still bore half the marks, and these frozen branches loved a taste of flesh.
Iron risked a glance behind him. Wolves plowed through the foliage and leapt onto trunks before bounding from them, gaining speed on the downhill slope.
That’s impossible. Wolves can’t do that. Can they? His stomach twisted; maybe he didn’t know as much of the world as he thought.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the hillside. A low rumble rolled through the air as if a titan had pointed at the ignorant youth fleeing the wolves and laughed. Through his terror, through his blind run, a thought came to him swift as the lightning in the thundersnow.
It would be dark in the storm. Not even wolves would smell him in those winds, and anyway, the wind worked in his favor, not theirs. He’d have to slow to let the storm catch him, and once it did, he’d have to make his way home before the frosted winds froze him. He could try this, or he could stand and fight, and hope his blood didn’t drip from their fangs next.
He spied another outcropping just ahead. Maybe a decoy spell…
One chance. Sander had told him he had one chance. Better make sure it works.
Iron headed for the ledge. His feet beat on the snow. He could practically feel the wolves’ hot breath against his neck.
“Sinner save me!” Iron cried out. The magic burst from him. He slammed his body on the outcropping, peeking up just in time to see his mirage leap into the sky.
The first wolf followed his decoy. Then, the second vaulted after. A weight nearly crushed his back as the third wolf dove after the others. Iron shut his eyes. One more. Please. Please.
Heavy paws thumped on the granite beside him. A howl rode the wind and faded downhill. Iron cracked an eye and stared at the massive alpha of the pack. He smelled its sweat on the wind, heard its hot breaths puff into the cold.
Then, the wolf leapt off the outcropping and followed his mirage. Iron watched the four black creatures chase a comet of smoke darting at an angle to the east, away from home—hopefully for good.
He struggled to his feet despite their throbbing. His knee ached mightily. Cuts and bruises stained his forearms where he’d hit the ground. His spell had camouflaged his body against the rock but the effect quickly faded. With it, so would his illusion.
The rabid howl down below confirmed the spell’s end. He edged to the outcrop and looked down. Glittering eyes glared hungrily from black forms working their way uphill. Iron sighed and bent his head, pressing his palms hard against his temples.
He inhaled and wiped snot dribbling from his nose. Turning, he faced the mighty wall of the thundersnow. The cloud was so massive, it filled one end of the horizon to another. Sander always said the gods built the Everfrosts as a monument to their might, but facing the titan storm, Iron couldn’t help but think that this was the true testament to the Six’s power. Such majestic destruction.
Iron sighed. He crossed his arms over his face. “Here we go…”
The storm smashed against him with all its fury.
They called it a thundersnow. Standing in it, Iron thought thunderglass more appropriate. Each flake of snow or speck of ice cut against his forearms. He sucked in his breath and gathered what magic remained within him. He bent his head and turned so the wind was at his back. Somewhere below, those cursed wolves still stalked him.
Where do I go? I’m never going to find Sander in this.
Magic enveloped him, and some of the painful storm abated. He couldn’t drop the spell unless he wanted to end up frozen or worse, but it sapped his strength. Snow and ice swirled from all directions. Iron held a hand before him. His fingers faded against the storm’s dark veil.
Great.
The doe had asked for forgiveness. Was she his mother, come back from the grave to warn him? Sander never told him much of what came before their arrival in Skaard, and Iron didn’t remember anything besides the frozen wasteland of their home.
A branch caught his jaw and cut flesh. Pay attention!
He shivered, realizing he could barely feel his feet and his hands. Maybe now wasn’t the time to sit down and ponder what was turning out to be a very odd day.
He still faced the ledge—he hoped. If he was lucky, the wolves were working their way toward him. With the winds at his back and his body a good deal lighter thanks to being mostly mist, he might gain some distance between them. Keep facing forward, power through the thundersnow, and he might live long enough to survive the brutal front. It would only last a few minutes if the Six blessed him.
Iron backed from the edge. He crouched, wincing once again at his knee. Then, he charged. He left the ground with a grunt and spread his arms. Wind roared around him, shearing long ribbons of his ghostly body before him.
His time in the air continued long enough for him to wonder if he would ever touch the ground again. At first, he feared spearing himself on a frozen branch launched by the storm or getting his skull crushed by an airborne rock. That fear gave way to a new thought. The thundersnow might carry him off into the distance and drop him somewhere in the wilds, somewhere Sander had never taken him.
You’re riding a thundersnow. A thundersnow! Why are you afraid of anything?
Iron’s fear evaporated with his excitement. He inhaled, slowly spreading his arms to the winds. He flew above the lower reaches, above the trees, above the rocks, above the creatures of the world. Iron smiled. Then, he laughed.
“I’m a glory hawk now!” he screamed, throwing his chin to the sky. This moment of pure freedom, riding a wave of godlike wrath and fury, it carved itself into his memory.
This is life. This is what I’m meant to feel.
The moment faded as quickly as it came. His stomach fluttered, warning him that even a ghost could still plummet to the ground in this maelstrom. Iron grimaced and tucked his legs against his chest. He folded his arms over his face and clenched his teeth. He slammed into snow, his muscles seizing with the frigid shock. Not a single branch or leaf cut him upon landing. That could only mean one thing. The storm brought him to the valley where the cabin—and hopefully Sander—waited.
Not bad for an apprentice, he thought with a smirk. Wait ’til I tell the old man about this. I bet he’s never flown in a thundersnow before.
He wrapped his arms around his shivering torso and grit his teeth. His magic kept him on the snow’s surface, but even that simple spell would dwindle from him soon. At least he’d made it close to home. Now to face his master.
The storm lost some of its fury, the storm wall having swept over the valley. W
hile snow still fell in thick curtains, he at least made out the ground and a few trees dotting the valley. An odd shape appeared in the snows, out of place on the rolling landscape. Home.
Iron spit out snow and combed the ice from his hair. He stalked toward the cabin, wiping flakes from his shoulders with a wide grin. “Talk about luck. Sander!” Iron shouted. “I’m ready for dinner…”
Iron’s grin melted, and he stopped in his tracks. A hunched black object prowled from behind the cabin. Its eyes gleamed hungrily despite the heavy snows masking most of its muscular form. Three other creatures stalked into view with it, their amber scowls piercing winter’s veil like the hate within them melted ice.
He groaned and flexed his hand. Once pale skin flushed a deep red. He fumbled for his sword hilt, but his fingers were stiff as bark and his grip unsteady. Taking Shade Stride, he forced his fingers around the grip. “Sinner, you four are fucking annoying, you know that? I’d tell you to go choke on an elk antler.” He ripped his sword from its sheath. “But I’ll settle for letting you choke on steel instead. You want a fight? You got it!”
Like a dimming candle snuffed, the Sinner’s magic extinguished from his heart. Iron sunk to his knees and nearly dropped the sword into the snowdrift. He groaned again and rolled his eyes, looking to the sky. “Really?”
The wolves howled. They charged, tossing snow in their wake.
CHAPTER THREE
Shade Stride
It took all Iron’s strength to grip the sword. The leather seemed off—distant. The blade weighed his sore and bleeding arms—they sagged like wet bags on branches too thin to lift them. He tried summoning the Sinner’s magic into him, but his well of power had run dry.
And so he watched, knee-high in a fresh thundersnow drift, as the pack of black wolves snarled and charged. A puff of air escaped his lips. He held his sword before him, slipping into what he hoped was Shade Stride. He’d lost all feeling in his toes. Sinner only knew if they obeyed his commands.