Page 109

For three days, they traveled north. Three days of constant movement, of watch shifts while the others slept on their horses.

Three days of travel and Bryn could do nothing but think of those she had lost, alternating between finding Revna blood eagled in the palace gates and watching as Maude threw herself between her and their uncle.

Both memories plagued her as she traveled amongst strangers.

Hakon, she had learned, was Herrick’s brother. She had guessed as much after discovering who Herrick was, but she couldn’t be sure. Bryn knew his name from when he was announced to the public as the Heir of Rivers but had never heard a physical description.

Liv, the dark-skinned warrior who had kept them moving all these days, was focused on reaching the Icewall Mountains by the end of that fourth day.

Gunnar, the man poisoned from Belladonna, was being pulled in a makeshift sleigh through the snow that had settled heavy on the ground despite the late spring season.

After the first day, they bartered for some horses in a small, nameless town north of Logi, but Gunnar was too weak to ride, so Hakon constructed a wooden sleigh for him to ride behind his horse.

Bryn had forced the wind to be at their backs, speeding up their travels in their hasty escape from Logi .

They had waited for hours, hoping Herrick would appear over the wall, but Liv had made them leave when it became clear that Herrick was either dead or, most likely, captured. Bryn assured them that her father would not kill the General of Rivers— he would find some use for him.

Bryn could see on their faces that they were not sure if that fact was all that comforting, but she did not speak pretty lies in the name of comfort. The truth chaffed.

Instead, Bryn tried to take in her surroundings, tried to keep a keen eye on the environment they traveled through.

All she saw was ice and snow for leagues around them.

They had picked up new clothes in the nomad town, Finniskali, that were more appropriate for the frigid temperatures of the frozen tundra that was northern Ahland, but the chill still cut her to the bone.

The silver furs they had purchased helped them blend in with the landscape, and the leather pants that were lined with fur also worked to retain body heat.

Bryn’s fire could not keep her warm now as her sorrow banked any flames that might have surfaced.

As they rode, Hakon and Liv discussed potential plans to free Herrick, but none of them would work unless they had more people to round out their missing friends.

Liv tried to include Bryn in the conversation, but she could see the suspicion heavy in Hakon’s gaze.

No amount of truthful words and promises on her part would make Hakon trust her.

She was the daughter of his enemy— Bryn wouldn’t have trusted her either.

Mostly, Hakon just ignored her presence.

He also avoided speaking about Maude directly, but Bryn could not understand why.

It seemed like they had all been friends.

The thought that he did not mourn her sister the way Liv and Gunnar seemed to bring on a deadly rage that Bryn could not afford to indulge in just yet .

She would have words with Hakon once they were hidden from her father.

Bryn’s throat closed at the thought of her sister, but she pushed the feelings away. She couldn’t break down now, not when they were not safe from her father’s grasp yet.

That fourth day dragged on until the sun was almost behind the horizon. Bryn was convinced they would never make it to the Icewall Mountains and that future travelers would find her frozen body.

Scanning the gray horizon for any sign of a mountain range, Bryn saw Liv stop her horse in its tracks. Bryn and Hakon followed suit, pausing behind Liv to see what had caught her attention.

“What is it?” Hakon asked, his deep voice bitter.

“Do you hear that?” Liv asked.

They all strained their ears in the silence that surrounded them. Just when Bryn thought Liv was making it up, she heard the distant sound of rolling thunder and crashing water.

“I hear it,” Bryn said quietly, the heat from her breath clouding in front of her as it hit the frigid air.

“We’re almost there, hurry,” Liv said, kicking her heels into the horse's side to get it moving again.

An hour went past before Bryn could see what Liv had been looking for. The rolling thunder turned out to be a waterfall that came out of a break in the mountain it was housed in. The water crashed into a large lake that was semi-frozen over in the freezing temperature.

Bryn looked up and realized the gray horizon she had been looking at had been the Icewall Mountains. They shot up past the clouds, the peaks invisible to the naked eye.

Hakon murmured his astonishment at the sheer size of the mountains as Bryn did, both following Liv around the edge of the mountains.

They circled the perimeter of the massive lake that was housed at the foot of the Icewall Mountains.

What they were looking for, Bryn didn’t know, but she kept a watchful eye on Hakon and their surroundings in case an ambush lay in wait.

Liv closed in on one side of the waterfall and dismounted. Her boots hit the snow and then sunk another foot deeper.

Gods, Bryn hated the snow. It was cold, wet, and slippery in the best conditions. Knowing that she would sink a foot into the snow when she jumped down from the horse made her hesitate.

She had lived in a desert her entire life; the snow was a foreign entity to her.

Hakon jumped down and followed Liv after grabbing the reins to the sled that Gunnar slept in.

He had been in and out of consciousness the last few days, speaking with Bryn occasionally but for never more than a few minutes.

The belladonna was working its way through his body, shutting down one organ after another before it finally reached his heart.

Liv began banging on the side of the mountain and shouted something, the sound getting swallowed in the booming sound of the waterfall.

Hakon ignored her, as she expected, pulling Gunnar to Liv’s side.

Bryn jumped down, sinking into the snow and forcing a shudder to roll through her as the freezing powder found its way into her boots.

A few minutes passed, and nothing happened. Bryn had no idea what Liv was doing. It was almost like she was chanting in time to a song they couldn’t hear. As she did, Bryn noticed how the air around her shimmered slightly, like there was a veil between them and Liv.

Curious, Bryn stepped forward right as a loud crack sounded through the plain around them.

The wall that Liv had her hand on moved inward, the outline of a large doorway sinking into the mountainside and creating an opening. There was no light beyond the threshold, but Liv did not hesitate as she stepped through it and disappeared into the darkness.

Hakon, hesitating, finally looked at Bryn over his shoulder and then down at his friend asleep in the sleigh. Bryn shrugged and motioned for him to follow Liv.

“I don’t want you at my back, Helvig,” Hakon said, hatred dripping in his words.

“Ouch,” Bryn said, brushing off that he called her by her family name even if it made her chest cave in. “Fine, Kolbeck. I’ll go.”

Hakon rolled his eyes at her as she passed, and Bryn winked at him, knowing it would get under his skin, before passing through the mountain into the darkness. Prepared to call out Liv’s name in the darkness, Bryn halted as she was faced with the most unlikely circumstances.

She expected a long passageway that was bathed in darkness. She expected Liv to be waiting for her in the dark, ready to finish leading them to whatever safe hold she had promised them.

What Bryn had not expected to find was a brightly lit tunnel of ice illuminated by glowing orbs of sunlight in the ceiling.

She had not expected to find a group of soldiers plated in matte black armor, their long hair different shades of dark reds, black, and deep golds.

Bryn had not expected to see a glamour that had been veiling Liv’s features disappear, revealing her true heritage to them all.

Hakon quickly joined Bryn in her stupor, watching as everything he thought he knew about his friend disintegrated.

Standing in two neat rows extending down the long, narrow hall were Elven soldiers.

Their long, tapered ears were clearly on display under their helmets, the flawless skin of their race varying in shades from fair to deep ebony.

Liv’s glamour had cleverly concealed her pointed ears and skin that glowed like she was lit from within; her already long limbs seemed more graceful than before, her movements measured and easy as she became accustomed to her true form once more.

Liv stood facing them, her hands clasped behind her back, giving them a secret smile as footsteps sounded.

“Olivia Minnasdóttir,” a deep, musical voice came from behind Liv. “You have finally returned.”

A tall male with black hair so dark it absorbed the light around him stepped forward.

His golden skin was tanned and flawless, the tapered points of his ears protruding through his long black tresses.

He was dressed as a warrior in fighting leathers, an axe belted to one side of his waist and a longsword on the other side.

Hanging from his shoulders was a cloak whose inside was lined with black and silver fur.

Bryn couldn’t tear her eyes from his hair, the black so like her raven’s hair. The memory of her lover's body strung up in front of the palace flashed through her mind, leaving Bryn reeling. This was too much to handle.