by Julie Kagawa
The woods grew darker, the trees closer together, and the temperature dropped even more. By now I was losing feeling in my fingers and toes, the cold making me sluggish. I felt as if icy hands were grabbing my feet, dragging me down, urging me to curl up in a ball and hibernate until it was warm again.
A flash of color in the trees caught my eye. On the branch above me, a small bird perched on a twig, bright red against the snow. Its eyes were closed, and it was fluffed out against the cold, looking like a feathery red ball. And it was completely encased in ice, covered head-to-toe in crystallized water, so clear that I could see every detail through the shell.
The sight should have chilled me, but I was so cold all I felt was the spreading numbness. My legs belonged to someone else, and I couldn’t even feel my feet anymore. I tripped over a branch and fell, sprawling in a snowbank, ice crystals stinging my eyes.
I was suddenly very sleepy. My eyelids felt heavy, and all I wanted to do was lay my head down and sleep, like a bear through the winter. It was an appealing thought. I wasn’t cold anymore, just completely numb, and darkness beckoned temptingly.
“Meghan!”
Ash’s voice cut through the layers of apathy, as the Winter prince knelt in the snow. “Meghan, get up,” he said, his voice urgent. “You can’t lie here. You’ll freeze over and die if you don’t move. Get up.”
I tried, but it seemed a Herculean effort to even raise my head when all I wanted to do was sleep. I muttered something about how tired I was, but the words froze in the back of my throat, and I only grunted.
“The cold has her.” Grimalkin’s voice seemed to come from far away. “She is already icing over. If you do not get her up now, she will die.”
My eyelids were slipping shut, even though I tried keeping them open. If they closed, they would freeze and stay shut forever. I tried using my fingers to pry them open by force, but a layer of ice now covered my hands and I couldn’t feel them anymore.
Give in, the cold whispered in my ear. Give in, sleep. You’ll never feel pain again.
My eyelids flickered, and Ash made a noise that was almost a growl. “Dammit, Meghan,” he snarled, grabbing both my arms. “I am not going to lose you this close to home. Get up!”
He rose, pulling me to my feet and, before I could even register what was going on, pressed his lips to mine.
The numbness shattered. Surprise flooded in, as my heart leaped and my stomach twisted itself into a knot. I laced my arms around his neck and kissed him back, feeling his arms around me, crushing us together, breathing in the sharp, frosty scent of him.
When we finally pulled back, I was breathing hard, and his heart raced under my fingers. I was also shivering again, and this time I welcomed the cold. Ash sighed and touched his forehead to mine.
“Let’s get you out of the cold.”
Grimalkin had vanished again, perhaps annoyed with our display of passion, but his delicate paw prints cut plainly through the snow. We followed them until the trail finally ended at a small, dilapidated cabin beneath two rotting trees. I wouldn’t think anyone lived there, but smoke curled from the chimney and a dim orange light glowed through the windows, so someone must’ve been home.
I was eager to get inside, out of the biting chill, but Ash took my hand, forcing me to look at him.
“You’re in Unseelie territory now, remember that,” he warned. “Whatever you see in that room, don’t stare, and don’t make any comments about her baby. Understand?”
I nodded, willing to agree to anything if I could just be warm again. Ash released me, stepped onto the creaking, snow-covered porch and knocked firmly on the door.
A woman opened it, peering out with tired, bloodshot eyes. A gray robe and cowl draped her body like old curtains, and her face, though fairly young, was lined and weary.
“Prince Ash?” she said, her voice breathy and frail. “This is a surprise. What can I do for you, Your Highness?”
“We wish to spend the night here,” Ash stated quietly. “Myself and my companion. We won’t bother you, and we intend to be gone by morning. Will you let us in?”
The woman blinked. “Of course,” she murmured, opening the door wide. “Please, come inside. Make yourselves comfortable, poor children. I’m Dame Liaden.”
That’s when I saw her baby, cradled lovingly in her other arm, and bit my lip to stifle a gasp. The wrinkled, ghastly creature in a stained white blanket was the most hideous child I’d ever seen. Its deformed head was too large for its body, its tiny limbs were shriveled and dead, and its skin had an unhealthy blue tinge, like it had been drowned or left out in the cold. The child kicked weakly and let out a feeble, unearthly cry.
It was like watching a train wreck. I couldn’t tear my eyes away…until Ash nudged me sharply in the ribs. “Nice to meet you,” I said automatically, and followed him over the threshold into the room. Inside, a fire crackled in the hearth, and the warmth seeped into my frozen limbs, making me sigh in relief.
There was no crib anywhere in the cabin, and the woman didn’t put her infant down once, moving about the room clutching her baby as if she feared something would snatch it away.
“The girl can take the bed under the window,” Liaden said, wrapping the baby in another ratty, once-white blanket. “I fear I must go out now, but please make yourselves at home. There is tea and milk in the cupboards, and extra blankets in the closet. But midnight draws close, and we must depart. Farewell.”
Holding her infant close to her chest, she opened the door, letting in a blast of painfully cold air, and slipped out into the night. The door clicked behind her, and we were alone.
“Where is she going?” I asked, moving closer to the fireplace. My fingers were finally getting some feeling back, and were all tingly now. Ash didn’t look at me.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Ash…”
He sighed. “She’s going to wash her baby in the blood of a human infant to make her own child whole and healthy again. If only for a little while.”
I recoiled. “That’s horrible!”
“You asked.”
I shuddered and rubbed my upper arms, looking out the cabin’s grimy window. Moonlight sparkled through the glass, and the land beyond was frozen solid. This was Unseelie territory, like Ash had said. I was far from home and family and the safety of a normal life.
Closing my eyes, I started to shake. What would happen to me once I reached the Winter Court? Would Mab throw me in a dungeon, or maybe feed me to her goblins? What would a centuries-old faery queen do to the daughter of her ancient rival? Whatever it was, I couldn’t imagine it would be good for me. Fear twisted my gut.
I felt Ash move behind me, so close that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. He didn’t touch me, but his presence, quiet and strong, calmed me somewhat. Though the logical part of my mind told me he might be the one I should fear the most.
“So, how will this work?” I asked casually, trying to keep the accusation from my voice. It crept out, anyway. “Am I a prisoner of the Winter Court? A guest? Will Mab toss me in a cell, or is she planning something much more interesting?”
He hesitated, and I could hear the reluctance in his voice when he finally spoke. “I don’t know what she intends to do,” he said softly. “Mab doesn’t share her plans with me, or anyone.”
“It’s going to be dangerous for me there, isn’t it? I’m Oberon’s daughter. Everyone will hate me.” I remembered the r
edcap’s hungry gaze and rubbed my arms. “Or want to eat me.”
His hands lightly grasped my shoulders, making my skin tingle and my heart flutter in my chest. “I will protect you,” he murmured, and his voice went even lower, as if talking to himself. “Somehow.”
Grimalkin appeared abruptly, leaping onto a stool by the fire, making me jump and Ash withdraw his hands. I mourned the loss of his touch. “Get some rest,” the Winter prince said, moving away. “If nothing else happens, we should reach the Winter Court by tomorrow night.”
Gingerly, I lay down on the bed beneath the window, trying not to imagine the last thing that used the mattress. Ash claimed a chair by the fire, turning it so he faced the door, and drew his sword into his lap. Surprisingly, the bed was warm and comfortable, and I drifted off to the outline of Ash’s profile keeping watch by the fire.
I must’ve woken sometime in the night, or perhaps I dreamed, for I remember opening my eyes to see Ash and Grimalkin standing before the hearth, talking quietly. Their voices were too low to hear, but the look on Ash’s face was scary in its bleakness. He raked a hand through his hair and said something to Grimalkin, who nodded slowly and replied. I blinked, or maybe drifted off again, because when I opened my eyes again Grimalkin was gone. Ash stood with his hands braced on the mantel and his shoulders hunched, staring into the flames, and didn’t move for a long time.
Chapter Four
THE HUNTER
“Get up.”
The cold voice was the first thing I heard the next morning, cutting through layers of sleep and grogginess, bringing me fully awake. Ash loomed over me, his posture stiff, regarding me with empty silver eyes.
“We’re leaving,” he said in a flat voice, and tossed something on the bed, where it landed in a cloud of dust. A thick, hooded cloak, gray and dusty, as if all color had been leeched out of it. “Found that in the closet,” Ash continued, turning away. “It should keep you from freezing. But we need to go, now. The sooner we reach the Winter Court the better.”
“Where’s Grim?” I asked, struggling upright, reeling from his sudden change in mood. Ash opened the door, letting in a blast of frigid air.
“Gone. Left early this morning.” He waited, still holding the door, as I swirled the cloak around my shoulders. When I drew up the hood, the prince nodded briskly. “Let’s go.”
“Is something coming?” I asked, jogging after him through the snow, my breath puffing in the air. Everything was covered in a new layer of ice. “Is the Hunter getting close again?”
“No.” He didn’t look at me. “Not that I can tell.”
I swallowed. “Did I…do something wrong?”
He hesitated this time, then sighed. “No,” he said in a softer voice. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Then why are you being like this? Ash? Hey!” I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve, bringing us both to a halt.
“Let go.” Ash’s voice held the subtle hint of warning. I shook off my fear and stubbornly planted my feet.
“Or what? You’ll kill me? Haven’t you already made that threat?”
“Don’t tempt me.” But his voice had lost its coldness—now it just sounded tired. He sighed, raking his free hand through his hair. “It’s not important. Just…something Grimalkin said. Something I already knew.”
“What?”
He turned. “Meghan…”
In the distance, a howl echoed over the trees.
I jerked, and Ash straightened, his gaze sharpening. “The Hunter,” he muttered. “Again. How could it catch up so quickly?”
The howl came again, and I shivered, drawing closer to Ash. “What is it?”
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. But this stops now. Come on!”
Ash kept a tight hold on my hand as we sprinted through the snow. I thought of the bridge and the impossible chasm that Hunter had, somehow, cleared, and hoped this plan would work out better. It didn’t seem likely that we would outrun whatever tireless beast was behind us.
The forest thinned, and jagged cliffs rose up on either side of us, sparkling in the sun. Huge blue-and-green crystals jutted out from the sides, sending fractured prisms of light over the snow. Ash led me through a narrow canyon, sheer cliff walls pressing in on either side until it opened up in a snowy clearing surrounded by mountains.
The howl rang out again, echoing eerily through the gully we had just come through. Whatever it was, it was closing fast.
“This way.” Ash tugged on my hand and pulled me toward the far side of the clearing. Between two pine trees, a dark blot in the cliff face marked the entrance to a cave, icicles dangling from the opening like teeth.
“Go,” Ash said, pushing me forward. “Get inside, hurry.”
I scrambled through the opening, being careful not to stab myself on the icicles, and straightened, looking around. The cave was huge, a vast, ice-covered cavern, sunlight slanting in through the holes in the roof far, far above us. The ceiling sparkled, every square inch covered with sharp, gleaming icicles, some longer than I was tall. A breeze howled through the cave, and the icicles tinkled like wind chimes, filling the cavern with song.
“Ash,” I said as the Winter prince came through the opening, shaking snow from his hair. “What—”
“Shh.” Ash put a finger against my lips, shaking his head in warning. He pointed to the skeletons scattered about the cave, half-buried in snow. The bones of some large animal lay sprawled on the ground nearby, a fallen icicle jutting through its ribs. I winced and nodded my understanding.
And then something black and monstrous exploded through the cave mouth, snapping at my face.
Ash jerked me backward, his hand snaking around my mouth to stifle my shriek, as the snap of teeth echoed inches from my head. If Ash’s hand hadn’t been pressed hard against my lips, I would’ve screamed again as two burning, yellow-green eyes peered at me from the face in the door.
It was a wolf, a huge black wolf the size of a grizzly bear, only longer and leaner and a thousand times more frightening. This wasn’t the majestic creature you saw on the nature channels, loping through the snowy wilderness with its pack. This was the rabid beast in every horror movie about wolves: dark shaggy fur, slavering muzzle, glowing, pupil-less eyes. Its lips were curled back to reveal shiny fangs longer then my hand, and ribbons of drool dripped from its jaws, crystallizing in the snow. Only its head fit through the opening, but it turned its muzzle in my direction, and I swore it grinned at me.
“Meghan Chase. I finally found you.”
Ash pulled me back farther, toward the far end of the cave, as the enormous wolf thrashed and wriggled in the doorway, somehow, impossibly, sliding through. My heart thudded as the creature rose to its full height inside the cave. He seemed to fill the chamber. Ash shoved me behind him, pressing me against the wall beneath a rocky overhang, and drew his sword. The wolf chuckled, the deep tone making my skin crawl, and bared his teeth in a savage grin.
“Think you’re going to hurt me with that little thing?” His guttural voice echoed through the cavern, and icicles clinked above him, swaying dangerously. “Do you know who I am, boy?” He lowered his head, peeling his lips back. “I am Wolf. I am older than you, older than Mab, older than the most ancient faery to walk this realm. I was in stories long before the humans knew my name, and even then they feared me.” He took one step forward, his huge paw sinking into the snow. “I am the wolf at the door, the creature that stalked the girl in the red hood to Grandma�
�s house. I am the wolf who becomes a man, and the man who is a beast inside. My stories outnumber all the tales ever told, and you cannot kill me.”
“I know who you are.” Ash’s voice shook slightly, which chilled me even more. That Ash, fearless, unshakable Ash, was afraid of this thing filled me with dread. “But you’re here for the Summer princess, and I have my own vow to bring her back to my court. So I can’t let you take her.” He brandished his sword, the faery glamour of Winter swirling around him. “You’ll have to go through me first.”
The Wolf smiled. “As you wish.”
He lunged with a roar, jaws gaping wide, tongue lolling between dripping fangs. Insanely fast, he covered the area in a single bound and leaped at us, a dark blur in the air. I shrank back as the Wolf charged but Ash whirled, glamour snapping around him, and slammed his sword hilt into the wall.
A deafening crack echoed throughout the cavern, like a gunshot. The ceiling trembled, icicles clicking wildly and then, like a million china plates being smashed at once, collapsed in a deadly gleaming rain. The Wolf paused for an instant, looking up…and was buried under a ton of pointed crystal shards.
I turned away, covering my eyes as a single high-pitched yelp rose over the clatter of smashing ice. The snow cleared, the cacophony died away and there was silence.
I started to peek through my fingers, but Ash grabbed my hand, blocking my view. “Don’t look,” he warned softly, and I saw a spatter of red behind him, seeping through the snow, making my stomach curl. “Let’s get out of here.”