Page 52 of Omen of ice
The sunshine turns out to be an overwhelming disappointment. Unlike the fields in Lunal, where the warmth from the light soaks everything, the sun here makes no impact on the brutal cold, and each step is a challenge.
“We’re almost to the edge of the Winter Lands,” Valen says. He has on a light cloak over his leathers and hasn’t so much as quivered once from the chill. “It will warm up considerably soon.”
“I’m fine.” It annoys me to see the ease with which he moves. How he swaggers gracefully while I stumble along like a newborn foal in the nearly knee-deep snow.
“My previous suggestion still stands…”
He offered to shift and carry me until we were clear of the snow. I declined. There are rumors of a time when druids were able to connect so wholly to animals that we couldbecomethem. Travel with catlike grace and speed or soar high into the sky. But those days, if they ever really existed, are long gone. Riding on the back of a massive wolf—one that’s also the Fae I’m supposed to protect—would be a bad move. It feels like an oddly intimate action. Then again, running my fingers through Valen’s fur this morning felt like a line that shouldn’t have been crossed. I know he felt it, too, but we’ve both chosen to ignore it, and that’s more than fine with me.
“Like I said, I’m fine.”
He shrugs and pushes forward, leaning into the wind. I keep my head down to block some of the force from a newly formed squall, following the movement of Valen’s feet. I don’t realize he’s stopped until I slam into him. “Why the hell—”
“The good news is that we’ve reached the end of the Winter Lands…” He points to the snow-barren land a few yards in front of us. “That’s Autumn territory.”
Like the border between the Winter Lands and Lunal, the change here is extreme. An invisible line in the earth. On our side, wildly swirling snow and brutal wind assault the terrain. Everything is encased in ice, and not a trace of life is visible. On the other side, a dense forest awaits, the scant leaves on the trees swaying slightly as if caressed by a soft breeze. The forest ahead isn’t the frozen wasteland we’re standing on, but neither is it a thriving ecosystem. Even from this side of the invisible line, I can smell the decay of the woods. An unnatural state brought about when the Fae magic leeched from the lands. Still, there must besomethingleft for the terrains to differ so significantly.
Desperate to rid myself of the chill, I step forward, but Valen grabs my arm. “What do you know about the Great Drain?”
I stare at him. “I’m about to turn into a block of ice, and you’re asking me questions about history? When ten steps ahead I can defrost my toes?”
“I thought you werefine?” He drops his hand from my arm.
I tamp down the urge to slug him. “Is there a point to your question?”
“There is.”
“The stories tell us that the Fae from every court burned out their magic. The war was brutal, and it required every last ounce of power they had.” I move my fingers—more to keep them from freezing solid than for effect. “It all drained away.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he grumbles. “Did your Order tell you how the lack of magic destroyed the other courts?”
I knot my fingers into the thick material of my scarf and try not to let my teeth chatter. He’d better be going somewhere with this. “Fighting, stealing, general debauchery—more than usual, I mean. As the power faded, everything turned to chaos. Your people didn’tknow howto live without magic. It drove them to chaos.”
“We didn’t. And the world around us? It didn’t know how to live without our magic, either. Druid power is rooted in nature, in life. Fae power? That’s nature, too. The elements. It all stems from the same place. Once it faded, the land, the animals…things changed. Some said the very soul of the ground outside the Winter Lands shriveled and twisted.”
“Your point?”
“Thepointis that we’re protected, on some level, on this side of that invisible line. The lingering druid magic in the ground, the presence of my magic, calms the land. Orbik uses the magic I donate to build an invisible wall. I need you to understand that once we cross the border, we forgo that protection. Anything can happen.”
“Oh, please. Surely you’re overreacting.” I push him aside and cross the line in the snow. “See—” I step across and breathe a sigh of relief when the bitter cold abates almost instantly. Hefting the pack over my head, I let it fall to the ground. Like the warmth, the lightened weight is a welcome reprieve. “Nothing disastrous has happened.”
“Tania.” He stares at me. “It’s been ten seconds.”
I fold my arms and snicker. “And here I thought you were the overly optimistic one.”
He grins, then offers me a mock pout. “Normally I am. I don’t like it when you make me play the realist. It’s no fun.”
“Aww. You poor, poor thing. Should I get you a warm blanket? Maybe some milk and cookies?”
“Wine would be nice.” His lips slip into the kind of grin I’ve come to recognize as dangerous, and despite my best attempt to steel myself against it, my heart thunders. “I wouldn’t say no to a nice big hug from you, either. The less clothing the better.”
“In your dreams, Valen.” In mine, as well. I hate myself for where my mind has wandered recently, but there’s something magnetic about him. His wit and charm and overconfident humor…
He leans closer and pins me with his gaze. “Every damned night, Tania. Every damned night.”
Even though there’s no danger of complicated emotions entering the equation, I know the physical is a bad idea. Still… “Hmm. Maybe we should do something about that sometime.”
I’m just kidding.
