Icebound (Legends of the Shifters Book 2)

by J. B. North

  I set the bowl aside. “To scare the wits out of people?”

  She sat up against the wall next to me. “Of course.”

  “Where have you been all day?”

  She pulled her knees up to her chest. “Flying over the island. I just felt like I needed to get away for a while.”

  “What happened last night?”

  Her brown eyes flickered into something darker. “Erik and I…we were planning on getting married. He’d had a wife before. I knew that. But he’d thought she was dead.” Her eyes glistened with tears, and she blinked them away rapidly. “Then, last night, she showed up here.”

  My heart ached for her. “How did she find this place?”

  “August found her. She said she was running away from Ginsey, so he took her in.”

  Roselle’s gaze flicked to the side. “Look,” she said, nodding behind me.

  As if on cue, I saw Erik coming out of a shelter, the woman trailing behind him. Her dark hair was tangled up into a single, unruly knot on her head. She glanced around the gap with wild eyes before trailing behind her husband to sit at their fire. He spooned something out of their cast iron skillet into a bowl, handed it to her, and then looked up in our direction.

  His eyes fixed on Roselle, and with a look of pain, he moved his chair away from her and toward his wife.

  I looked back at Roselle. Her face was crumpled in the expression of someone with a broken heart. “I’d thought I was ready to face it again. But I’m just not.” And with that, she vanished. A gust of wind blew my hair back, and I could only assume that that meant she was gone.

  I sighed and picked my bowl back up, downing the rest of the soup in a single gulp. I stood and took the bowl back to the shelter of the woman who had given it to me, and when I turned, I recoiled.

  August stood right behind me, arms crossed, his long hair pulled up into a short ponytail. He raised an eyebrow at my reaction. “Are you ready for a hunt?”

  “A hunt?” I pointed to the sky. “Out there?”

  He shook his head. “In the woods, not the sky. You’ll still be in first form.”

  I frowned, disappointed. I was ready to be rid of all the little bruises and cuts that plagued my body. “How will I get out there?”

  The corners of his mouth pulled up. “The same way all the others do. By climbing on my back.”

  I hesitated. Climb onto the back of the dragon and trust that he wouldn’t drop me to my death? Or stay here, safe and sound, running errands?

  August tilted his head toward the boulder where I’d seen others climb on his back before. “Up for the challenge?”

  I set my jaw. “Fine.”

  He swept his hand in front of him. “Lead the way.”

  I forced one foot in front of the other. “What about weapons? You trust me with them?”

  “If you were going to hurt one of us, you’d have found a way to do it.”

  I huffed out a breath and began climbing the wooden steps attached to the side of the boulder. When I circled around to the top, August had already shifted into his dragon form, his leathery, white wing hooked to the rock. He craned his neck back and looked at me expectantly.

  I hesitated and looked out at the gap. People had begun to watch. I glanced at August, and his dragon eyes seemed to crinkle in amusement.

  I pursed my lips and stepped out onto his wing, surprised at how easy it was to cross. Though his wing looked like it was made of ice, the surface was actually rough and easy to climb over. Getting onto his back was the tricky part. I had to avoid spearing myself on the shard-like spikes that lined either side of his spine. The only place I could settle was the spot where his neck met his back. There were no spikes except for the one I held on to, which fortunately, was more rounded off than the others.

  Before I could even shout that I was ready, August climbed up onto the rock and launched himself into the air. I held on for dear life as we gained altitude, and then, he swooped out of the gap and into the light of the sun.

  -Chapter Thirty-

  My fear melted away, and the sun greeted me like an old friend. As we circled around to the top of the cliff, I let go of the spike with a sigh and stretched my arms out, letting the wind whisper through my fingers.

  I missed flying, missed having my wings spread out like August’s, capable of going anywhere.

  I was forced to bring my arms back in and hold on tight to August when he landed heavily on the top of the cliff. He tilted to the side, and outstretched his wing for me to climb down.

  I picked my way to the ground, trying to be even more careful since the descent was steeper than the ascent.

  Once my feet were planted firmly on the rock, August shifted into his human form.

  “You did pretty well for your first time,” he remarked, his eyebrows lifted. “Usually, people scream or yelp when taking off and landing, but you didn’t make a sound.”

  I shrugged. “You probably don’t have many people with the second form of a bird getting on your back.”

  He gave a nod. “Maybe.” He started into the woods, waving for me to follow.

  The wind whistled through the trees as we entered the thick undergrowth of the forest. We didn’t go far before August stopped at a tree with a trunk as big around as a dragon’s foreleg—I would know.

  Its dead branches twisted up into the sky, and its roots plowed into the earth, creating a hollow at the base. August knelt and reached inside, pulling out two bows and a quiver of arrows.

  He kept the quiver for himself, but handed me one of the bows and a single arrow. “I’ll give you one shot, but if something goes amiss, I’ll need to be able to fix it.”

  “You doubt my shooting ability?” I asked.

  “I didn’t say that. But I know you’re not used to the bow.”

  I studied it. The bow was a bit smaller and the curve sharper than what I was used to.

  I was surprised at how silently August could move, even as we descended steep hills and walked across beds of dead leaves. Every once in a while, when I would accidentally step on a twig, his body would tense, but he didn’t turn back to correct me.

  Finally, after what seemed like an hour of walking in silence, we spotted a buck. His antlers rose into eight beautiful points, his body strong and thick from the plentiful vegetation.

  August looked back to tell me to aim, but I already had the bow loaded and drawn back. The buck was facing us, but as soon as he turned to the side…

  I was caught off guard when August tilted my aim slightly to the left and drew my arm back further. My muscles trembled with the effort to keep the weapon steady.

  When the buck turned, August stepped back and said, “Shoot.”

  I let loose the arrow and it embedded into the deer’s heart with a thud, killing it instantly.

  He nodded his approval as he jumped down into the gulley. “Good job. This will help feed us for a week.”

  “I would’ve missed,” I said as I followed him.

  “Those are long bows we traded for with the natives. You did pretty well, having never shot one before,” he explained.

  He hefted the deer up onto his shoulder as if it was nothing. I’d forgotten that the plant made him strong, as it once had done for me.

  “We’re done?” I asked.

  He nodded. “For today. We got lucky.”

  As we trekked back, August didn’t worry about being quiet anymore. “So…your brother. What’s he like?”

  “A little intimidating. I know I was a bit frightened when I first met him.”

  He looked over, brow creased as we started up another hill. “What do you mean when you first met him?”

  I breathed hard as we climbed, feeling out of shape. “I grew up in an orphanage. Didn’t know I had family left until it dawned on me that Kurt looked a lot like my mother, from what I remembered of her.”

  “And he cares about you?” August asked.

  “Of course. They’re torturing him just because he won’t tell th
em anything about me.”

  “How do you know that?”

  I explained the phantom stone to him. How it allowed me to visit Kurt in prison without anyone knowing. Until Niko found it, anyway.

  He listened, darkness cast upon his features. “We’ll get him out, Ivy,” he finally said. “Stick with us and we’ll get him out.”

  I hoped he was right. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would be able to beat an immortal dragon. Except, perhaps, an army of sorcerers.

  “What about you?” I asked suddenly. “What of your family?”

  He scowled and looked away. “The gap people are my family.”

  “Did you have a mother and father, though?” I asked.

  He was quiet for a long time. Then, “My mother is dead. My father may as well be.”

  I was surprised. It didn’t sound like his story was much different from my own. “My father works for King Ciaran,” I said quietly. “He’s my brother’s torturer.”

  August narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  We finally reached the knotted old tree, and August placed our bows under it, pulling out a bundle of rope instead.

  I eyed the rope. “Are we going to be tying the deer to your back?”

  He shook his head. “We’ll be lowering it down into the gap.”

  I sighed in relief. The last thing I wanted to do was navigate the spikes on August’s back while dragging a deer up after me.

  When we reached the cliff, he began to ravel the rope around one of the boulders, knotting it tightly after it was wrapped around three times. Then, he tied the other end around the deer’s haunches and lowered it over the cliff on his hands and knees.

  I sat back and watched as he lowered the buck down slowly, muscles rippling in his arms.

  A holler sounded from below and he paused, waiting until a second shout rang out. Then, he gathered the rope in loops around his arm, untied it from the boulder, and said, “I’ll be right back,” as he ran into the woods, no doubt to store it back under the tree.

  I walked to the very peak of the cliff while he was gone, looking out at the lake.

  The prophecy was wrong. There wasn’t an evil bone in August’s body. He was kind and hard-working. He didn’t expect anything of his people that he wouldn’t do himself.

  That night, the people celebrated over our catch. It was amazing how the ones that glared at me in hatred were now patting me on the back and congratulating me even though it was really August’s kill.

  Even Roselle managed a smile. “You’re starting to become one of us,” she said.

  I smiled. “It’s not so bad here.”

  “And August?” she asked.

  I glanced away, suddenly shy. “He’s not so bad either.”

  When I looked back, she was looking at me out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrows raised.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said as she started through the shelters. “I’m off to bed.”

  “Goodnight,” I called after her.

  I finished my meal and stood to return my bowl to the cook. When the plump woman took my bowl, she gave me a nod and a smile. Then, she looked behind me and the smile faltered.

  I turned to meet a wide-eyed stare, partly hidden by frazzled black hair.

  Erik’s wife.

  “You’re the phoenix, aren’t you? The one who attacked the dragon?”

  I frowned. I didn’t like that the topic had come up, but I nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

  She nodded back fervently. “Okay.” She studied me a little longer, and then with a small smile, she backed up and walked away.

  I squinted after her, confused. Erik’s wife certainly had…issues, to say the least.

  As I headed back to the tent, my eyes caught August’s, who still sat at the campfire, surrounded by people.

  He gave a nod, and I returned the gesture.

  When I entered the tent, Roselle’s eyes were already closed and she was breathing deeply. I took off my sandals and settled down on my mat across from her, closing my eyes until all the thoughts came to a stop.

  Voices outside quieted as more and more people followed our example.

  Just as I was about to sink into slumber, I heard a clatter and a scream, and then the shouted words, “We’re under attack!”

  -Chapter Thirty-one-

  Roselle and I bolted upright just as we heard more screams sounding all around us.

  I hurried to the tent entrance and peeked out into the darkness. The firelight danced across the shelters, and the only thing I could see of the enemy was their flashing blades.

  I ran out of the tent, shoeless on the rough rock. Then, I saw one of them.

  He wore black to match the night, but I could clearly see the Ginsian insignia on his uniform. His eyes glinted as he walked from shelter to shelter, setting each one ablaze with the torch in his hand, driving the gap people out of their homes.

  Nearby, I watched as a little boy was dragged out of a shelter by the scruff, his mother screaming, trying to break the man’s hold.

  A whoosh of wind blew my hair forward, and Roselle appeared beside them. She took hold of the man’s shoulders, jerking him back as she shifted into the wind spirit again. The man flew above the flames, limbs flailing, and plummeted into the gorge.

  I ran after the man with the torch, weaponless, hoping my training in hand to hand combat would pay off somehow. I’d anticipated taking him by surprise, but the arsonist turned just as I approached, a sneer cast upon his features.

  Fortunately for me, a shadow dashed up from behind him, tackling the man to the ground. The torch went rolling, but not before I saw the long black hair and stubbly chin of Erik as he set to beating the man’s face with his fist. A sickening crunch sounded, and whether it was Erik’s knuckles or the man’s nose, I couldn’t say. Probably both.

  Only once the man was rendered unconscious did Erik unsheathe the Ginsian sword and toss it to me. I caught it by the hilt.

  He wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand. “You should know to fight someone your own size when you’re without a weapon. But thanks for being on our side.”

  I raised the sword in response. “Thank you.”

  He glanced away as another scream penetrated the air. “Protect as many people as you can,” he ordered, and then he darted off.

  I stepped over the unconscious man and hurried between the shelters, eyes searching for an enemy. Above me, another invader flew through the air, bellowing. Roselle was certainly doing her part.

  A woman and her daughter scurried past me, toward the caves. I was about to make sure they got there safely when I heard a shuffle in the shadows. I turned just as a woman stepped into the light, blood and dirt smudged across her sharp features. The Ginsian insignia she wore was spattered with dark red droplets, and by the way she held two stained blades in each hand, I knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

  Her dark eyes glimmered. “I think I’ve seen you before.”

  “You may have,” I said, crouching defensively with my blade held out in front of me.

  She circled me. “My king wants you on our side. You don’t have to fight. You can just sit back and watch.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I don’t believe in slaughtering innocent people.”

  One corner of her mouth rose higher than the other. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

  She lunged forward, crossing her blades in a deadly maneuver that could’ve taken my head off. The metal rang as I deflected the blow, sending tremors through my arm with the force. She backed off as she calculated her next move, twisting the blades in her hands.

  She struck again, swiping both swords at the same time. I jumped back, but one tip caught my side, cutting deep into the flesh.

  I gasped through the pain as I deflected the next strike and the next. With every blow, I was getting weaker.

  A triumphant gleam shone in her eyes. She could tell.

  Despe
rate, I gathered all my energy and lunged forward right after her swords sliced through the air in front of my throat.

  Her smile wavered as my sword struck home. She looked down at the blade still stuck in her chest and fell to her knees. I drew it out quickly in case she was still strong enough to land another blow.

  One of her swords clattered to the ground as she dropped a hand to steady herself. She looked back up at me. “You’ve won.” She paused as she gulped in a breath. “But then again…the more you kill, the more haunted your dreams will become. That’s the cost of…having a conscience.” She drew her lips into a smile and sunk to the ground. Her eyes blinked once, and then her face went slack, her pupils staring up blankly at the rising smoke.

  I gripped my side and turned away from her, staggering toward the caves.

  That’s when I saw Roselle. She was standing in half form in front of a cowering figure, her skin so pale it was almost translucent, her long hair shining white around her.

  Two attackers were closing in on her. She stretched her hands out and sent a gust of wind to blow them both back.

  As I watched, the cowering figure she protected rose up.

  Erik’s wife.

  Her hair still framed her face in wild tangles, but her features were cool and collected as she raised a dagger above her head.

  The pain in my side forgotten, I sprinted forward, adrenaline surging as I lifted my blade. “Roselle, behind you!” I shouted.

  The madwoman glanced over, distracted for a moment, and it gave me the time to send my sword flying through the air. It speared her right through her core.

  She collapsed, the dagger dropping from her hand.

  Roselle sunk down to the ground beside her with a cry. “Ivy, what have you done?”

  I didn’t get to answer. Instead, I stumbled back, stunned as I looked down. The tip of a blade protruded from my stomach.

  I fell as the blade was jerked out.

  “Ivy!” Roselle screamed.

  The shout echoed in my mind as my eyes drifted closed. I sucked in a raspy breath and exhaled one last time.

  Someone pushed me onto my back and stroked my hair away from my face. “Ivy.” The voice was deep and sounded far away. “Ivy, wake up. You’re going to be fine.”