Page 12

Stories and Scars

“Okay,” Allison said, her fingers interlacing protectively around her mug, “I know I probably shouldn’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, and Celine’s going to lose her mind when she finds out I agreed to talk to you, but I want to hear it.”

Facing her across the kitchen table from her, Stanley lifted an eyebrow. “What exactly do you want me to tell you?”

“ Everything. ” She seemed to consider that for a moment. “You can start by telling me why there are dead cows on our property.”

Except for them, the kitchen was empty and silent, as was the rest of the house, just like the last time he’d been in here.

Only this time, there was no electric spark in the air between them that made him want to part her legs and bury himself deep within her.

The silence that hung in the air was pregnant with unspoken questions.

He broke eye contact instead regarding the coffee mugs on the oak table. Allison had made herself black coffee as usual. Stanley added an extra cube of sugar to his. Coffee had never been his go-to drink, but after what he’d seen outside in the field, any drink would do.

I’m going to give you the death you should’ve gotten back in the cave.

His inner snow leopard growled at the memory.

Johan’s words had remained vivid in his mind ever since he’d attacked him in the middle of the street, a reminder of how dangerous he was.

And now the man had brought trouble to Stanley’s doorstep.

Frowning, he plopped another sugar cube into his mug.

He’d been expecting Johan to come after him, just not so soon and certainly not in his home.

Then again, it had been only a matter of time.

He'd been resting in the barn shortly after he saw Allison’s truck leave the property—when he heard the cowhands yelling.

Julian had come running to meet him, claiming he’d spotted the dead cows while riding near the field.

Once Stanley saw what had happened, he and the cowhands had searched the property.

They’d found no one, but that hadn’t surprised him.

The second he saw the deep gashes in the cattle, he’d known exactly who was responsible.

Johan had snuck onto the property to leave him a message.

The Collector’s message had been clear: I know where you live. I’m coming for you.

He ground his teeth. Despite everything Johan had done, attacking him back in Kirnham and shoving him into the pit in Grim Jim’s cave, he’d held no animosity toward the man. At least he hadn’t died like he feared he would. But Johan clearly wanted that to change.

The thought made Stanley’s blood boil.

“Stanley?”

He blinked, and it dawned on him that his grip on his mug had tightened. Relaxing his hand, he faced his wife.

“Sure,” he said. “But to do that, I’ll need to explain a lot more. You need to know about Frost Mountain.”

Her eyebrows twitched slightly. She nodded. “I’m all ears.”

“Right.” It had taken three dead cows and a murderous Collector to get her to decide she was ready to listen to him. Stanley wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He lifted his mug to his lips, keeping his eyes on her as he sipped. Allison shifted slightly in her seat. Her face was tight with tension, although it was impossible to tell whether it was because of Johan’s attack or the man sitting right across the table from her.

“Frost Mountain,” he began, setting the mug down, “isn’t any ordinary mountain. It isn’t even a part of this world. You could say it’s ... a dimension, a dimension separate from Earth.”

He paused to gauge her reaction. For the most part, she seemed unmoved, although he thought her eyebrow had risen an inch in the last few seconds.

“So, it’s a dimension,” he went on, “a magical one. The mountain is the entire space. There are no islands or seas or countries. It’s just Frost Mountain. Like Mount Everest, only there’s no bottom. The mountain’s all there is.”

“That makes no sense,” Allison said with a frown.

“Magic rarely ever does make sense. And the witches who created that place did so intending to mess with the head of anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped in it.”

“Witches?”

Stanley was aware that he was already starting to sound less and less believable, but he pushed on.

“I learned the truth—or at least, what people believe about Frost Mountain—a year after I got there. It’s centuries old. And it was designed to be a prison.”

“A what , now?”

He shrugged. “Centuries ago, there was a war on Earth between a coven of witches and shifters. It was a brutal one, and the witches won by using dark, dangerous magic. They created Frost Mountain as a prison to hold the shifters, literally doomed them to spend the rest of their days on a freezing, snow-covered rock with all kinds of nasty surprises.”

Allison sat back and seemed to remember her coffee then. She brought the mug to her lips and took a loud sip before setting her mug back down. She stared at him for a few seconds before asking the question he’d already seen coming.

“What does that have to do with you disappearing?” she said.

Stanley sighed. “The shifters in that war weren’t the only ones who were punished.

Over the years, their descendants, born on the mountain, also had to struggle to survive.

And there are portals on Earth linking this world to Frost Mountain, appearing randomly and claiming people, whether human or supernatural.

Half the missing cases the police never manage to solve are people who stumbled into a portal and ended up there.

Some survive on that mountain, like I did. Many don’t.”

He grimaced as the image of a skull half-buried in the snow flashed across his mind. He’d stumbled upon dozens of those in his first year on that mountain. They were the remains of those who hadn’t made it, a constant reminder of what happened to the weak and foolish.

More times than he cared to count, he’d nearly ended up as a grinning skull in the snow.

“So,” Allison said, “you’re saying ... one of those portals—”

“Took me to Frost Mountain, yes.” He nodded. “I was riding my horse when it happened. The horse died less than an hour after I found myself on the mountain.”

He saw her wince at his words. She knew he loved horses. “Why didn’t you just come back through the portal?”

“You think I would have if I could?” Stanley nearly chuckled. “The portal was gone as suddenly as it appeared. There was no way to get home. The portals are one way. People come to Frost Mountain, and they never leave. And I know what you’re about to ask: How did I get back here?”

Allison said nothing but merely nodded.

“Well, to explain that, I’ll need to explain other things.”

“What other things?”

“I didn’t spend all four years trudging across the mountain,” he said.

“Only one. I found a village and settled there. See, the thing about Frost Mountain is, it’s got all kinds of people and places—villages, towns .

.. people get together and form communities to survive and lead .

.. well, somewhat normal lives. And that’s what Kirnham was like. ”

“Kirnham?”

“The village that took me in. The people there taught me everything they could about Frost Mountain. I lived in Kirnham for years as one of the guards of the village.”

She cocked her head to one side. “What were you guarding the village from? Wild animals?”

He thought he detected a bit of humor in her tone. “Wild animals are the least dangerous beings on Frost Mountain. Even the cold is more of a threat. What the people of Kirnham were really afraid of were the Collectors.”

Allison shifted again in her seat. So far, she hadn’t scoffed at his words or tried to cut him off. In light of his previous interactions with her since his return to Torpe, that was an improvement.

“The Collectors are marauders,” he explained, trying to make it as concise as he could. “They’re notorious for robbing villages and towns, searching for ‘treasures’ to take back to their ... well, their boss, a ruthless dragon shifter named Grim Jim.”

He saw she was amused, noting the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Grim Jim?”

The name did sound a bit ridiculous, especially if you’d never been in the presence of the Ice Melter, not to mention at his mercy.

Stanley nodded. “Yes. He’s the one who sent the Collectors to invade Kirnham.

I still have no idea what exactly they were looking for, but the other guards and I tried to defend the town. We failed.

“I was captured by one of them, a man named Johan. He and the other Collectors brought me back to Grim Jim’s cave with them and threatened to throw me into an abyss if I didn’t join them in serving him.

I refused, and Johan shoved me into the pit.

I figured I was going to die anyway, so I pulled Johan in with me.

” He shrugged. “But we were both wrong about the abyss.”

Allison frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Turns out there is a way off Frost Mountain. The pit’s some kind of portal back to Earth. It brought me and Johan here, to Torpe.” He could barely suppress a grin. “Grim Jim and his men have been shoving people into that pit, thinking they were killing them, but they were only sending them here.”

He could still remember how shocked he’d been to find himself back on Earth.

Frost Mountain was supposed to have been his new and final home from the moment he raced through that portal on his horse.

It would have been his grave, too. But he was back now, back to his real home.

As time went by, Frost Mountain would become a fading memory.

“And Johan?” she asked. “He’s the one who slaughtered those cows?”

Stanley regarded his coffee for another moment before sipping from it again. “He is. He wasn’t born on Earth. And now he wants me dead for bringing him here.”

His words faded into silence. Allison pursed her lips, staring away from him as the seconds ticked by.

“Look,” he said, “I know all of this might sound crazy—”

“Oh, it does.”

“—but I think, deep down, you know I’m telling the truth. I’ve no reason to spin a story like that.”

She looked at him sharply. “Even if everything you said is true, Stanley, it doesn’t change what happened.” Her eyes softened, turning misty all of a sudden. “It doesn’t change how I’ve been feeling all this time, Stanley. You were gone—for years. ”

“I know, Allison—”

“I thought you were dead. Everyone around in town did, too. And when we couldn’t even find a body, I thought you must’ve taken off or something. Do you have any idea how your disappearance broke me? If not for Celine, I might’ve completely lost my mind.”

His heart throbbed painfully. He bit his lip.

“Allison, I’m so sorry. And I know it’s hard for you to have me back here all of a sudden after everything you’ve had to deal with.

All I ever wanted was to come back to you.

The whole time I was on Frost Mountain, I never forgot about you. I never stopped loving you.”

Her eyes were definitely teary. He could see the pain flickering in them. His heart throbbing in his ribcage, he reached across the table, taking her hand in his. She flinched but didn’t try to release herself from his grasp.

“I’m here now,” he told her. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not disappearing again. And I’m certainly not dying, no matter what Johan tries to do.” He tried for a smile that he was sure looked like a grimace.

With her free hand, she wiped her eyes. “When you were ... when you were on Frost Mountain ... did you meet anyone else?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. It took Stanley a moment to realize what she was asking.

“Oh ...” He couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Allison, of course not. Never. I told you, I never stopped loving you. You were all I could think about.”

To his relief, she smiled a little at that. “So were you.”

She reached up then to touch the locket resting below her collarbone. Stanley’s hand rose to do the same, feeling his heart swell in his chest.

“Your scars,” she said, “how did you get them?”

Stanley glanced down his left forearm. “I got this scar fighting off a polar bear. The one on the other arm ... that was just before I got to Kirnham. Someone tried to kill me and steal the few supplies I had on me. He lost his arm that day. Most of these other scars are from attacks or accidents.”

She stared at him with awe on her face. “Can I touch them?” she suddenly asked.

Before he could answer, she got to his feet and started toward him. Stanley rose, too, without really thinking. For a second, they stood facing each other, their breathing the only sound that filled the kitchen. Then he felt her fingers brush his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he thought he heard her say, “for everything you went through. Four years on that mountain ... it must have been hell.”

“It was.” His voice came out barely above a whisper. His heart was thudding harder in his chest as he followed the path her fingers were tracing along his skin as she caressed his scars. Her other hand came to rest on his chest, and his breathing nearly faltered.

There it was again. That electric spark. He could feel his body awakening, responding to her touch. Allison drew closer, her gaze darting between his eyes and lips. If he leaned a little closer, his lips and hers would be joined. The thought sent his heart racing with anticipation.

“Allison?” he breathed.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure about this?”

She was silent for a moment. “About what?”

He licked his lips. “Should you be standing so close to me right now? You know what happened the last time.”

“I don’t care,” came her reply, and she curled her fingers against his chest.

That was all it took. The next thing he knew, his lips were on hers, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away as he kissed her.