Page 51 of Omen of ice
She spins in a slow circle, eyes scanning the area. This part of the forest is thick with henwood trees. Defined by unusually gnarled trunks, their wide branches are densely covered in silky blue leaves tipped with white. Just before the leaves fall, the edges turn from white to black—one of the only remaining signals to mark the subtle season change in this area of Derriga.
“How are you at climbing?” she asks.
“You mean to hide us in the trees?” Stalkers are solitary, so the chance of there being another in the immediate area is slim. Still, it’s not a bad idea. There are other things, more dangerous things, that prowl these woods after dark.
“It’s really too late to continue on for the night. Safer to batten down.” She swings her pack across her shoulder, looping the handle over her head. “If we get high enough, the leaves will easily cover us should someone—or something—happen by.”
She’s right. We’ll need to sleep so we can cover more distance tomorrow, and doing it above ground will be safest. I’m confident we’ll go undetected. Unfortunately, there are other issues to factor in besides wildlife and my uncle’s guards.
“You’ve never spent a night in these lands unsheltered.” The temperature is already dropping. It makes no difference to me. While I’m not immune to the cold, my tolerance for it is much higher than hers. Even though we’re close to the border, the wind chill is brutal and will only continue to dip as night falls. With her sensitivity to it, we might both freeze. “We won’t have the ability to light a fire up there.”
She shrugs. “It wouldn’t be a clever idea to light one on the ground, either. The smoke or the light could attract your uncle’s men—or something worse.” Her gaze falls to the frozen pieces of the stalker, and she shudders. Bracing her foot atop the lowest outcropping of the tree, Tania begins to climb. “I know this must be a foreign concept for you—Fae privilege and all—but sometimes you just have to knuckle down and push through.”
I wait until she’s several feet ahead before starting up behind her. “While having you freeze to death would remove your constant nagging presence in my life, I’ve no idea what it would do to me.”
“A little cold won’t kill me.” The annoyance in her tone screams of overconfidence. Whether she wants it to be true or not, the facts are the facts. She’s already shivering.
“I suppose we’ll see.” My only hope is that my tolerance to the cold will transfer onto her, at least in part, instead of the other way around. “I could offer my services as a body warmer.”
“How generous of you.” She missteps and slides a few inches, and a spike of panic floods the link.
“It’s the least I can do. You would have to promise to keep your hands to yourself, though.” I pause to give her a chance to get a bit higher. “This is a life-and-death situation, and there’s no time for you to indulge yourself in the near-perfect planes of my—”
“I think I’ll manage without yourperfectplanes.”
We climb the rest of the way in silence, easily traversing the tree’s massive limbs, and when we’re high enough, we settle on the thickest branch we can find. Tania fastens a rope around her waist, wraps it several times around the smaller, surrounding branches to secure herself, then tosses the end to me—presumably to do the same. Without a word, she leans back and closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out.
There’s more than enough room on the branch. Henwood trees are known to have limbs large enough to dance on. I know—I’ve done it a time or two. We’re in very little danger of falling. Still, I watch her for a while just to be sure, cringing each time a gust of icy wind breaks through the leaves and she shivers. Something growls from the ground below, and above us, somewhere in the trees, a crow caws. It’s like the forest is saying,I see you. I know you’re here…
When I’m sure she’s asleep, I release my wolf and curl around her, my thick fur acting as a barrier against the brutal elements. I tell myself that it’s self-preservation. If she freezes, I will undoubtedly suffersomekind of blowback. If she falls, I will endure the injury.
Yes. Self-preservation…that’s all this is.
17
Keltania
Something tickles the tip of my nose. No. Not just my nose. My cheek, as well. Every few seconds, it brushes against my skin, skimming an oddly warm softness that beckons me to move closer. I lift my hand, but nothing happens. Panic wells in my chest, and when I force my eyes open, all I see is white.
“What—” I thrust my hands out, momentarily forgetting that I’m precariously balanced atop a tree limb thirty feet from the ground. Despite the rope I’ve tied to secure myself, I tip to the left. If not for the keen reflexes of a massive white wolf poised beside me, I would have gone over the edge.
One thick paw rests lazily across my lap, its nails secured to the trunk of the tree, while the other front paw wraps around the far side. “I swear to the Goddess, if you’ve given me fleas…”
I free my hand and mean only to rest it atop the wolf’s hindquarters, but the moment my fingers touch his soft fur, they seem to take on a life of their own. I run my hand across the unparalleled softness and can’t help the tiny sigh that escapes my lips as it chases away some of the cold. It’s intimate in a way I’ve never experienced, in a way I’ve never imagined possible. There’s a connection there, and a part of me wants to chase it with all that I’ve got, while another part wants to run as far and as fast as my feet will carry me.
The wolf’s form blurs and changes, melding seamlessly back into Valen. In an instant, my hand is resting not on the hindquarters of a wolf but on Valen’s thigh, dangerously close to—
I jump and yank my hand away, sending the snow on the leaves scattering in all directions.
“Sudden movement isn’t advisable this high off the ground. You could fall and breakmyneck. As for fleas…” He stretches and yawns. “Don’t insult me.”
I try not to shiver at the loss of warmth. At least, that’s what I tell myself. If I was honest, the shiver was more from the way Valen’s eyes catch mine, the momentary flash of heat I see there… I wait for him to make a joke, to break the tension I know we both feel, but he doesn’t look away. For the first time, it’s me who breaks eye contact.
Small slivers of the early-morning sun shine through the cracks in the leaves. A rare thing in this part of Derriga, from what I’ve been told. We’re at the very edge of the Winter Lands, and most days are bleak and sunless. Occasionally, though, the clouds break, and the sun makes an appearance. I want to take this as a good sign. That our plan will work. That we’ll get to Ventin Peaks in one piece.
I untie the rope from my waist and swing my legs around to dangle over the edge of the massive branch. “We should start moving. We need to make as much progress during the light hours as possible.”
…
