Page 97 of Omen of ice
“We’re a little over a day out.” He settles on a narrow bench carved from a fallen log. “And you should calm down, or you’re going to freeze the town and give us away.”
I look at my hands. Icicles have formed around my fingernails as cold air seethes around me. “How does she always do this to me?”
“Do what, exactly?”
“Everything will be fine, then”—I snap my fingers—“just like that, I want to throw her over a cliff.”
“What did she say that has you ready to ice the piskies?”
“She kissed me.” I feel ridiculous the moment the words leave my mouth. “Then she got upset and left with Daroose.”
“And why does that bother you?”
“Because the kelpie is a manipulative bastard.”
“Have you considered the possibility of another reason?”
“Besides not wanting to watch her run off with someone else?”
“Someone else.” Delkin leans back. “You mean, besides you?”
I stop mid-step and whirl on him. “What are you trying to say?”
“Maybe the reason you’re so angry is that you’ve developed feelings for Tania.”
I told her I would fall in love with her—not that I had. Orcould. “Even if it were possible for us to tolerate each other, neither one of us can fall in love.” I tap my chest, right over my heart. “We were both warded.”
Delkin folds his arms. “The druids are powerful but not infallible, son. Wardscanbe broken.”
…
I have a slight headache the next morning, and if it’s attached to the piskie ale, I bet Tania feels a thousand times worse. According to Delkin, she probably won’t remember a thing. There’s a reason humans don’t generally partake in Fae alcohol.
Unfortunately, my memory is crystal clear.
We pack our things, refill what supplies we can, and set off again with little conversation. Daroose does his best to give me a wide berth, but by midday, when we make it to the edge of Ventin Peaks, he’s back to his usual, annoying self.
“Half a day to climb, if I had to guess,” the kelpie says with a sniff. “Could cut that back if everyone shifted.”
“Too risky.” Benj sets his pack down and stretches. “If anyone were to see—”
“The courts have dissolved, but there are still Fae in these lands—some even rumored to be loyal to Orbik,” I tell them.
It’s impossible to miss the look the two elder Fae exchange. There’s more to their involvement than Delkin has told me, but right now I have one goal. Break the link. The longer this tie exists, the more complicated my life gets.
“Better get moving, then.” Tania’s pack is almost as big as she is, yet she adjusts it and starts up the hill like it weighs nothing more than a pile of feathers.
The terrain is uneven and littered with large rocks, making the trek up the mountain slow and dangerous. Sharp edges and steep cliffs that end in jagged trees and wicked rock outcroppings taunt from below. Delkin and Benj take to the front, while Tania and I follow. The kelpie brings up the rear, and with each step, it’s an effort not to turn around and push him over the edge.
“Why Ventin Peaks?” Benj steps around a large boulder and carefully navigates through a narrow channel. “Why not simply head back to Lunal?”
Tania hops from rock to rock, gracefully traversing the constricted section. “There’s an herb that grows in Ventin. Levina says she needs it to break the link.”
“Which herb?” Delkin asks.
She shrugs and hops off a larger boulder. “She didn’t say. Why?”
Delkin slows but doesn’t stop. “I’m just not aware of any region-specific herbs in Ventin.” He shrugs and readjusts his pack. “I’ll be interested to see which one it is. Druid magic has always intrigued me.”
