Page 54

Brynla

I’m not sure how long we’ve been riding for, hours maybe, but I’ve enjoyed every single second of it.

With each breath I’m relishing the fresh scent of the pine trees that line our path, mingling with the cold creek that runs by our side, the air that tastes damp and sweet and wonderful.

I’m savoring the journey like I would a fine wine, aware that everything is so fleeting and that I might not get to experience this again.

Even Lemi is running around with his muzzle raised high in the air, seeking out his own adventures, tail wagging happily.

I have no idea where we’re going but at this point it doesn’t matter.

It’s just somewhere. Somewhere beautiful, somewhere new, and I’m with Andor.

We climb higher and higher into the mountains, the path snaking around towering trees that seem to stretch into the sky, along meadows filled with moss and tiny pink flowers, leading us through the occasional stream that Onyx plods through, fish darting away from our shadow.

After a while I start to feel the chill on my cheeks and neck. With Andor holding me so tightly from behind, I’m still warm, his body and the coat doing a good job of protecting me, while clouds start to gather above the treetops, obscuring the sun and the sharp mountain peaks.

I can’t help but think about my aunt, and it hurts. The grief cuts too deeply to feel any other way.

I think about what it would have been like if I had pulled her out of the Dark City and put her in Norland like I was trying to do.

I’m finding the change in climate to be a marvel, a novelty to relish, but would my aunt have truly enjoyed this?

I projected my unhappiness onto her: how stifled I felt, how stagnant I was, how utterly unsatisfied with my life.

I wanted to leave to become someone, but Ellestra was probably happy being the someone that she was, staying in her home, drinking her tea.

She had a community there, a home, a couple of close friends. I tried to take that from her.

I did take that from her. Along with her life.

“Hey,” Andor says in my ear, his breath hot. “I’ve got you.”

He holds me tighter and my body relaxes into him, and the tightness in my chest, the way my heart is perpetually squeezed, loosens.

Just enough to let me feel a moment of relief from the heavy spiral of my thoughts.

Somehow he knows what I’m thinking and feeling, making sure I know he’s there.

As if he wants to shoulder the burden so I don’t have to.

Because grief does feel like a burden, but one that you’re scared to no longer carry.

You’re afraid that if you hand it off to someone for a second, if you forget even if for a brief instant that you’ve lost someone and that your heart has splintered into pieces, it will hit you harder when you do remember.

It’s like that blissful moment when you first wake up and your brain is a clean slate and all is well with the world, before the cold, deadly knife of reality cuts you to the bone.

So I lean back into the strength of Andor’s body and his heart and take the leap.

I will myself to stop focusing on the pain and the guilt and start being more present in what’s happening now.

I know it will hurt when the grief comes back, because it will always come back, for the rest of my life, but I know I still need to just… live.

I breathe in the fresh, bracing air, colder now, and Onyx walks through a stand of sparse trees until we reach a cavernous hole in the mountain face.

“Are we going through that?” I ask, my heart picking up the pace. Everything had been so nice and uneventful so far.

“We are,” Andor says, kissing the back of my head. “But it’s worth it.”

One would think that I would be used to going through caves and tunnels, but here where the mountainside rises up so sharply, the darkness seems extra suffocating when I don’t know where we are and where we are going.

I suck in my breath as Onyx enters the tunnel, the air damp, the hoofbeats sounding dull. I sniff at a peculiar smell that seems familiar but I can’t quite place.

“That’s the glowferns,” Andor says. “Our version of your slugs, except they don’t fall on you and they taste like aniseed if you cook them up. Just wait for your eyes to adjust.”

For a moment I have no idea what he’s talking about as we plod along in the darkness, the aniseed smell getting stronger, but then I start to see tiny pinpricks of blue-green light that begin to glow brighter, like stars in an ink-black sky.

“What?” I whisper, looking all around. The glowing dots shine, making Onyx’s and Lemi’s coats shine blue in their glimmering light. “What is this?”

“Those are the glowferns,” Andor chuckles. “Small plants that grow in dark places here, especially up in this area.”

“It’s…magical,” I say in awe. It’s like moving through the night sky. “I can see why you wanted to bring me here,” I add quietly, feeling as if I should keep my voice down or I’ll disturb the plants.

“This isn’t the only reason. See that light at the end of the tunnel?”

I look over Onyx’s head and see a small white spot at the end of the darkness, getting larger and larger as we move toward it. It’s also getting brighter, not from the sun, but as if the white is expanding until the glowferns fade away and the walls of the cave recede.

I put a hand in front of my face and wince at the harsh light, just as the coldest wind I’ve ever felt hits us like a hurricane. I close my eyes to the sting of it, Andor wrapping his arms around me tightly. “You’ll get used to the cold,” he whispers in my ear. “Take your time and open your eyes.”

Onyx walks for a few more feet, a strange yet familiar shuffling sound coming from his movement that reminds me a little of a camel in the desert, then comes to a stop, snorting loudly.

Lemi barks and I hear the galumphing of his run.

I pry my eyes open.

Like before, I can barely see, having to squint through my eyelashes at the glare.

Then my eyes start to get used to it.

And I realize that white is everywhere around us, blanketing the ground beneath us in waves of ivory, glittering like tiny gemstones, frosting the boughs of the tallest trees, and falling in flakes onto my arms and nose and hair.

“Is this…is this…?” I can’t even form the words properly, watching as Lemi’s black form speeds through it, white fluff kicked up in his wake and clearly having the time of his life.

I look down at my own hand as a flake lands on it, a cold kiss that takes a few moments before it melts away, leaving a faint trace of glitter.

“Snow,” Andor says. “I know how excited you were to see rain. I thought perhaps this might be the first time you’ve ever seen snow.”

“It is,” I say, my breath making a frosted cloud in the air.

I’m cold but it seems worth it to experience this.

Everywhere I look, snow covers the land, from where we stand at the mountainside, across the tall trees that flank a wide expanse that undulates gently to the shore of a bright blue lake that has steam rising from it and the tall icy mountains on the other side.

All of it shimmers like crushed crystals.

“I didn’t think snow was so glimmering, though,” I say, looking at where the melted snow has left shiny patches on my hands and in Onyx’s mane.

“It’s normally not,” Andor explains. “Lake Efst has always had an unusual weather system. It snows here year-round, even in the middle of summer. But you’ll notice the lake is not frozen over.

There are volcanic vents at the bottom, deep, deep down, that keep the lake comfortably warm at all times, and those vents shoot out crushed firestones into the water.

The material floats to the surface and from there the wind seems to pick it up, take it into the clouds, and there you go. Comes down as glittery snow.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Figures you wouldn’t show me normal snow.”

“Only the best for you. Now, I’m curious. How well do you think you’d do in a snowball fight?”

I glance at him over my shoulder. The snow gathered in his black hair makes it look like it’s adorned with rhinestones, a delightful contrast to his scruffy beard. “Considering I’ve never had a snowball fight before…I’ll probably beat you.”

He grins, all cocky, boyish charm, and pushes himself back until he’s sliding off the rump of the horse. He’s then at my side, arms out to help me dismount from Onyx. Thankfully I do that a little more gracefully than I did trying to mount him.

Lemi comes galloping over to me, tail wagging, and Andor quickly scoops up snow in his palm, rounding it into a ball before throwing it. Lemi barks and runs after the ball even though it sinks into the snow and disappears.

I waste no time and do what Andor did, the snow ice-cold against my skin.

It’s a little grittier than I thought it would be, making it easier to quickly form into a ball.

Before Andor even has a chance to face me, I ping the ball at the back of his head—hard.

It explodes and he gives a playful yelp as he whirls around.

“Does that count as a point?” I say. Then before he can come at me I duck under Onyx’s neck and start running for the nearest rock that’s jutting out of the snow, trying to take shelter behind it.

“You’re dead,” he says, staying behind Onyx and using him as a shield.

His horse is patient, letting Andor crouch down and scoop up snowballs, not even flinching when I lob my own icy projectiles at him, even when my aim is off and they accidentally hit the horse, leaving pops of glitter like shooting stars.

“You’re not playing fair!” I yell at him, ducking just in time as his snowball blasts the side of the rock, showering icy pellets over me. “Using your horse as a hostage!”

“How would you know what’s fair? You haven’t played this game before!” he shouts, and I pelt him with another ball. This time it soars over Onyx’s back and I know it hits Andor right on the head.

We keep at this for a while until finally I’ve had enough. I take the risk and suddenly stand up, exposing myself to Andor’s assault as I start waving my arms at Onyx. “Go on, get!” I yell.

Onyx’s ears flicker back and forth for a moment; he doesn’t seem too threatened by me, until Lemi suddenly shifts right beside him, letting out a loud bark.

Onyx rears and takes off at a trot, heading right down to the lake.

“That’s our ride back!” Andor yells, wildly gesturing to the runaway.

But it doesn’t matter because now I’ve got him.

I start lobbing as many snowballs as possible at him while he tries to do the same, staggering through the snow toward me. I get him square in the face more than once and by the time he’s at the rock, his face is caked in shimmering white.

“Yield!” I yell at him.

“Never!”

Before I can move out of the way he leaps over the rock like a jackrabbit and tackles me to the ground, snow flying everywhere.

I screech, laughing as he puts his body over mine, pressing me into the cold.

“I will never yield,” he says, running his cold fingertips over my face. “Unless you beg me for mercy.”

I’m about to tell him off but he kisses me instead. I should be freezing, should be trying to playfully fight him off, we should probably make sure Onyx isn’t running away, but I can’t help but feel the heat spreading through me. How is it that he’s the one making me yield?

“This also isn’t fair,” I say as he pulls back, his golden eyes still gazing into mine. “You have me under some strange spell half the time.”

“I can’t help it if I’m charming,” he says, brushing my hair off my face. Then his brows lower, his expression growing serious. “Though I wonder how far my charm extends. Is it enough to convince you to do anything?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat. “How do you feel about partaking in a little revenge?”