Page 290 of The Cradle of Ice

Fire sparked, melding their fingers more closely.

For now, that was as much touch as they allowed themselves. She remembered their kiss back at the dome, but after the tumult of their return, pulled in two different directions, they had held off from exploring more.

He glanced at her, a slight smile shadowing his mouth. She had forgotten how, when melded, he could sense her inner self.

He squeezed her fingers, stoking the fire between them. As he did, she felt his desire, the deepening of his breath, the flaring of his pupils, the blood-firming of his passion. But she also felt his restraint, an inner calm that defied her, a well of patience that both warmed her and slightly irritated her.

His smile only deepened.

She felt her cheeks heating up.

Henna burst between them, shoving them apart. Ahead, a pair of bright firepots welcomed them home. Still, the girl’s exuberance was not about returning here and all about who awaited them.

“Kalder, you bad boy!” she called as she ran at him.

The vargr had stepped halfway out of the doorway, growling upon hearing their approach. Then he spotted Henna barreling toward him. His eyes got wide. He looked terrified.

Henna leaped headlong at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hooking her legs over his shoulders. “You get back inside, you naughty boy,” she scolded him.

With a weary grunt, the vargr turned and carried her through the draped doorway.

“Maybe I should make that saddle Henna wants,” Daal said.

“I don’t think we’ll be around long enough for that,” Nyx said. She meant her words as a jest, but she saw how the sentiment wounded him.

With their mood slightly soured, they pushed through the drape and into the warm room. Chatter and arguing greeted them. Fenn, Jace, and Krysh stood by the cupboard, where maps and charts were pinned to its doors. All three were in a heated discussion.

By the table, Graylin smoked a pipe with Meryk, the two of them waiting for some consensus to be reached.

Graylin nodded to Nyx, giving her a look up and down, making sure she hadn’t broken anything else while out of his sight.

Kalder carried Henna over to where a sweetcake was warming on a tray. She unlatched from him and went for a taste, unable to resist. It did smell good. Kalder sighed and returned to Graylin. The vargr must have known the temptation of the cake was going to be the only way to get Henna to let go.

“Did they come to any decision?” Daal asked, waving to the trio.

Nyx crossed to the cupboard. She stared at the various routes mapped on the charts. All of them headed deeper into the Wastes, crossing through it to reach the far side of the Crown. They had all decided not to head back the way they had come. With a war growing over there, the safer path was to swing the other way, avoiding Hálendii and the Klashe entirely.

Still, there were several ways to reach the Barrens—and Frell, Jace, and Krysh had settled on different choices.

“You have to pick one,” Nyx warned. “At least for now. We can always shift, depending on whatever we discover.”

“True.” Krysh placed a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “As we’re at an impasse, I throw my support to this young man’s route.”

Jace turned to Fenn. “That’s two to your one.”

“As a ship’s navigator, my vote should count as two, maybe three.”

Jace and Krysh frowned at him.

Fenn finally waved dismissively. “I’ll concede. For now. We’ll have to see how the prevailing winds blow once we’re aloft.”

“Show me which one,” Nyx said.

Jace waved her closer. She shifted next to him, studying him sidelong as she did. He seemed his normal self, as jovial and obsessively focused as always. Still, she couldn’t escape that cold emptiness she had felt inside of him. It had been too strange to fully dismiss.

“Here. This one,” Jace said, drawing her attention back to the map. He ran a finger through the Wastes and across the Crown to a flagged site deep in the Barrens. “To me, with the direction of winds and expected spring storms, this course makes the most sense.”

She nodded, but Fenn stood with his arms crossed. He was staring at the marked path through the Crown. She squinted closer and noted it passed over Bhestya, where Fenn hailed from. He had always been reticent to talk about his past. She wondered if this might be the reason he had argued against this route.