“D.” Pettus tried to smile but ended up coughing instead. A smear of red stained the corner of his mouth. “It’s all right.”
Trystan was amazed the Teller had been alive long enough to take out Olena, let alone continue to talk. He dropped down at Delaney’s side, resting a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately shook off.
He bent down next to her ear and whispered, “The cold is the only thing prolonging this. He won’t make it. I’m sorry, Delaney.”
“Sorry?!” She let go of Pettus long enough to slam both red-stained palms against his chest. “This is your fault! You did this!”
He clenched his jaw, noting the way frost had started to form over her eyelashes. The ice crystals being flung by the wind were also cutting into her skin, leaving painful-looking scratches across her cheeks. “We can debate over blame later; right now we have to go.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again and turned to address Pettus. Whatever she’d been about to say never left her lips.
The Teller’s eyes were staring up at the sky, unseeing.
Her upper body shook, but she didn’t openly cry. She was still holding him in her lap, and she went to remove one of her hands, only to find it was stuck. It was too cold, and the blood had made her palm wet.
“Hold on.” Trystan hit a smaller button on his suit, protracting the helmet, then brought his face down, close enough that he could blow against the spot where her hand met the Teller’s cheek. A second later he yanked, hoping he didn’t end up separating her own skin instead.
He did a quick check, seeing that only patches of her first layer had come off, not enough to be an immediate issue. Then he tugged her to her feet, relived when she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and buried her face against him. Whatever anger she’d been holding on to was gone from her for now.
His relief was short-lived. As he glanced around, he realized that it was getting too dark to navigate through the storm; they’d never make it back to the castle in time, and would more than likely get lost along the way.
“We can’t leave him here,” she said, but it was obvious she already knew it was impossible not to, so he didn’t bother wasting his breath, or more time, addressing it. Getting her out of here was his only concern.
Stealing a suit off one of the Tellers still made sense, so he reactivated his helmet and moved them toward where he thought Olena had fallen.
“Stand here for one second,” he told Delaney so he could stoop down and flip Olena’s body over. He swore when he saw that ice had already crawled over the surface of the device.
Any holes in the material from the fritz shots would have repaired themselves—a handy byproduct of being programmed to refit around different bodies. But they hadn’t been made to withstand these types of temperatures indefinitely, especially not during an ice storm, and they’d already been out here for longer than he had.
“That’s not going to work,” he cursed, getting back to his feet. He brought Delaney against him again. She needed heat, fast. Checking the other suits would be a waste of time. They’d all come out together, meaning all of them would be useless by now.
He needed another plan.
“Trystan,” she slurred his name when she spoke. “I can’t feel my fingers.”
He had to get her out of the elements. Heading back to the castle was out of the question, which meant he needed to think up another destination. There weren’t any other residences nearby, and the woods would only provide so much cover. Not nearly enough to warm her.
“You’re going to be fine,” he promised, turning them in the opposite direction so he could try to see something that could be useful. In the distance there was a small rise, and he was hit with recognition. “This way. We’ve got to go this way.”
It’d been a while since he’d traveled around Inkwell, but he recalled one summer a few years back right after Dominan’s father had died. Trystan had taken him for a long walk to give his mother some time alone, and they’d explored the grounds. They’d ended up not too far from where he and Delaney were currently standing.
“There’s a cave,” he said, mostly to try to keep conversation going. By now her body was definitely starting to shut down. “Delaney, I need you to respond, all right?”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly against him, barely lifting her own legs. He was practically carrying her.
“I can build a fire inside.” If there was anything dry there that he could actually light. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”
“You’re repeating yourself,” she told him, and he almost didn’t hear her, she was speaking so softly.
“Stay with me,” he ordered, his throat almost closing up around the words. Though his muscles were beginning to burn, he picked up the pace, hefting her into his arms so he didn’t have to worry about dragging her through the snow. She felt like a bundle of ice. “We’re almost there.”
Hail and icy wind pounded against his suit, scraping across the material, causing pinging sounds to echo through his helmet. He could feel the pressure, and even some of the cold. Shifting her in his hold, he effectively tucked her face more protectively against the curve of his neck. If he could feel the brutality of the elements, she must be suffering.
He could make out the edge of where he believed the cave was, but it was a stretch. After that one time, he’d never come back again. For all he knew, he’d gotten the location wrong and was actually leading them in the opposite direction. It was too late to turn back or try something else, however, so he continued driving them forward, practically melting with relief when he spotted the familiar crack.
Ideally, he’d go first, make sure there was nothing lurking within, but she wasn’t moving and he feared leaving her out here for even a heartbeat.
“Okay.” He set her on her feet, steadying her and positioning her so her shoulder was already partially through the crack. “I need you to walk into the cave, Delaney. The opening widens farther in, but for now you’ll have to go sideways.”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes were closed and at some point she’d stopped shivering. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I need you to do this,” he told her. “Now, Delaney.”
She mumbled something unintelligible, so he started to ease her the rest of the way himself. He pushed her as far as his arm could reach, then was forced to let her go. It was dark and hard to tell if she was still moving or not.
“Keep going.” He had to squeeze himself into the crack, feeling pressure from both sides. He almost didn’t fit, but this had been a problem the first time he’d been here as well. Then, Dom had raced through the gap, small enough to fit with ease, forcing Trystan to follow despite the discomfort.
Stone scraped against him, scratching at his helmet as he slowly forced his way to the left, deeper into the cave. He felt the plastic casing begin to crack, and gritted his teeth. That was one part of the suit that wouldn’t be able to patch itself.
A light shone through the other side, illuminating the tight space so that he could see he was close to the end. He came through so suddenly, he stumbled, catching himself against a wall. The cavern was small; he could stretch his arms out and touch both sides, but there weren’t any creatures. There wasn’t much of anything at all but dirt and pebbles.
Three pieces of the stone ceiling had fallen through, exposing the sky above, a few beams of moonlight cutting across the otherwise darkness. It hadn’t been there before, and he cursed, realizing it wouldn’t be nearly as warm in here as he’d hoped. Heavy flakes of snow tumbled down almost lazily, piling up to the left, while the harsh wind pounded against the outside.
Delaney was sitting in the middle of the cave, in the process of peeling off her shirt. She had it halfway over her head before he could stop her.
He yanked the thin material back in place, holding on to her wrists when she struggled against him.
“I’m burning up,” she told him, weakly tugging at his g
rasp.
“No, you’re not.” He needed to start a fire, but another glance around proved what he’d feared. There was nothing in here he could use as kindling. “It’s hypothermia, Delaney. You only feel like you’re hot, but you aren’t.”
He could go back out, try to find something in the woods to burn, but one look at her had him chucking that idea. She wouldn’t make it another five minutes if he left her. Hell, she wouldn’t make it another five minutes with him here, not in her current state of dress. The cavern was warmer than outside, sure, but with the hole in the ceiling and the snow pouring in, it wouldn’t be enough to lift her temperature.
He pushed himself back toward the exit, desperately peering through the crack in the wall. All he could see through it was white. Even if she had the time, he’d never make it through that to find dry kindling. And at this point, he wouldn’t even make it back to the castle before his cilla suit froze around him.
Trystan glanced down at his suit, already bringing a hand up to the controls at the center. A thin sheet of ice was starting to make its way over the surface, slipping through the buttons. If he removed it now, it might still be salvageable, at least for one more transfer. But if it wasn’t, they’d both die.
He glanced at Delaney. If she was gone, his life wouldn’t matter anyway, and if there was even a remote possibility this could work, he had to take it.
Not wasting any more time, Trystan deactivated his suit, waiting for it to reel itself back into the device before placing it against her chest. Icy tendrils of air bit at him immediately, and he clenched his jaw against the stings.
“Hold still,” he ordered her, even though it was clear she was barely aware of what was going on.
Pressing the center button, he kept ahold of her right up until the material began to form sleeves and gloves. Then he moved back to give her space, clenching his jaw when the helmet tried forming, and he got a good look at the crack across the front. Touching another button stopped it, and the helmet receded, leaving only a covering as high as her chin.
“If I let the helmet try to reform to your specs while its damaged, it could end up shattering,” he explained, even though she hadn’t asked. He waited another moment and then said shakily, “How do you feel?”
Her breathing was a bit labored, but her breaths weren’t coming out in thick white puffs anymore. That was something.
“Better,” she said, though she didn’t sound it.
Unlike her, he was at least in long sleeves. The uniform material was warm enough that he should be okay for a while, though he could already feel numbness at the tips of his fingers. It would only get colder as the night progressed. It was warmer in the cave, mostly because it kept the storm from them, but now that she was safe in the suit, he finally had time to think of himself.
And began to doubt his survival.
“How’d you find us?” she asked.
“Tracked you down.”
“Aren’t you a resident Boy Scout?” Delaney mumbled.
“Someday you’re going to have to tell me what all these things mean.” With nothing left to do, he slid back over to her. “Come here.”
She peeled open her eyes and frowned at him. “Where?”
“We need to stay warm.” He patted his lap and, before she could argue, swept her up.
It looked like she was going to say something, but she was still pretty weak, and she turned to putty in his arms, her body starting to thaw.
“Aren’t you going to freeze without this?” she asked after a while, indicating the suit. Her eyes were closed again, her head tucked beneath his chin. She sounded sleepy and faraway, but he wasn’t as worried about that as he would have been half an hour ago. The suit was working, even without the helmet.
“You need it more than I do,” he said.
“Do I?”
He stared at the small opening they’d come through, tightening his arms around her. “You almost died tonight, Delaney. If I’d been even a minute later … I almost lost you.”
“You weren’t in on it.” It sounded like she was confirming it for herself, not asking.
He stilled. “Is that what my father told you? That I wanted this?”
“He said you’d set me up from the start,” she slurred. “That this was all a bluff to manipulate the people into accepting Olena.”
“And”—he licked his lips—“did you believe him?”
It took her a while to answer, but when she did, he felt his chest constrict.
“No,” she admitted.
He smiled, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything to that.
She curled herself more tightly against him, then frowned suddenly. “Can we trade off?”
“What?”
“The suit.” She tugged a little at the thick material encasing her body. “If we take turns, neither one of us has to be cold for long. Give me another ten minutes—I should be fine by then. Can you last that long?” Her gaze roamed over his body, seeking out the answer before he could give it.
“You would do that?” He couldn’t stop himself from staring.
She was nestled against his body, clinging to him, letting him cling to her. She had her head tipped back, red hair spilling around her shoulders, and all he wanted to do was reach out and run his hand through it. Wanted to kiss her again and never stop, and before, that thought would have been more frightening than the one of him freezing to death. But not anymore.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” She managed a glare, though it was halfhearted. Keeping up this conversation was probably taking a lot out of her. “Here, do you need it now? I’m sure—”
“Don’t.” He stopped her with a hand on her wrist when she reached for the controls of the suit, shaking his head. “It won’t work. They weren’t made to operate in these types of extremes. If you take that off now, neither of us will be able to get it on again. Keep it.”
“But…” She pursed her lips, confused. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” He forced a half smile. “I’m the Zane, remember?”
“Somehow I don’t think the weather cares about that, Trystan.”
“Delaney.” He held her gaze. “Trust me. I’ve survived worse than this.”
She seemed to be thinking it over, and then: “You mean when you saved Sanzie? Was that worse? You made it through that.”
He was a little surprised Sanzie had told her that story, but it didn’t really matter now, especially when it could come in handy with easing Delaney’s fears. So, to help make everything seem all right, he gave in, reaching out to run his fingers through the ends of her hair. He barely felt them, too numb, but the sight of him touching her was enough to calm his racing heartbeat if only a bit.
“I did,” he agreed, “and it was worse.”
“You also had a fire,” she added, and he could see the wheels turning, “and three other bodies to help keep you warm. Trystan—”
“Please.” It wasn’t clear which of the two of them was more shocked by the word, yet he continued anyway. “I need you to trust me when I say everything is going to be all right. Can you do that?”
“You’re going to be okay?” she persisted. “We’re both going to get out of this alive, right? I need to hear you say it.”
Because he didn’t lie to her. With any luck, he would make it through this, and then all this guilt over lying would be for nothing. And if he didn’t … Well, he’d be dead. So he doubted he’d care much then anyway. About anything.
But he wasn’t dead yet, and he cared about Delaney, so he grinned that same cocky grin he’d given her every other time she’d come close to cracking through his defenses. “We’re both going to be okay.”
And it actually wasn’t entirely a lie, because as long as he knew she was going to survive this, he would be okay.
She might have wanted to press for more, but after a lengthy pause, she let it go. “Trystan, what are we going to do about the Rex?”
There was a growing
list of things he’d like to do, that was for sure. Unfortunately, most of them wouldn’t be possible. At least not yet. He wouldn’t know what was until they made it back to the castle. His father would be long gone by now, hopefully taking the Tellers he’d brought with him. So long as that were the case, Trystan was confident those remaining, the regulars who worked at Inkwell, would be loyal to him.
Enough so anyway, that he could trust them not to kill Delaney on sight if she ended up returning alone.
“My father has to be stopped,” he said, and it wasn’t the first time he’d come to that realization. But it was the first he really meant it. If he died in this cave, what would happen to her? He didn’t like the thought of that uncertainty.
She snorted. “How do you propose we do that?”
“I’m not sure,” he said.
“We need to get Ruckus. You know it’s true,” she told him. “He can help us.”
As much as he hated admitting it, she had a point. Right now he didn’t know who he could trust, but the Ander would never hurt Delaney. In fact, he’d go out of his way to ensure her safety. Just like his Teller, Pettus, had.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” He was surprised to find he meant it.
“Thank you.” She sighed. “I’m going to miss him. Everything is going to be different now.”
“I’ll protect you.” If his Tellers did their jobs, they would keep her safe. Technically, that was because of him, making it another half truth. He was already beginning to shake, and it was taking all his strength not to let on. If she knew he was at risk of freezing in here, she’d panic. He didn’t want that.
If these were going to be his last few hours, he wanted to spend them with the hopeful version of her.
“Trystan, he’s your father. You’ve already disobeyed him by saving me.”
“I’ll protect you,” he repeated with more force. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”
“I’m right here.”
His father had let him leave because he’d never done anything truly rebellious against him. Generally, they stayed out of each other’s way, right up until the Rex ordered him to do something specific. Like let Delaney go.
Between Frost and Fury Page 33