23. Something that Bites in the Dark

Chapter 23

Something that Bites in the Dark

LORI

T he kiss catapults me back to the present and into my rightful body, just as it did the last time. I'm already growing accustomed to the sluggish ache in my bones that accompanies my forays into Iris's past and feel more certain than ever that it's real.

I'm not only identical to Iris, but also forced to relive specific events of her life.

A big question mark sticks to my face. Iris is Fae, so she couldn't have lied to Elio, and yet, nothing about the way his brother interacted with her—or her with him—sets me at ease.

I gasp out and try to press a hand over my frazzled heart, but I'm… stuck.

The chafe of rope digging in my skin pulls me out of my musings about the vivid scenario I've just witnessed. My wrists are tied behind my back—a terrible feeling I'm all too familiar with.

Daisy's voice comes into focus. "Be cool. I'm not with her. She took my sister's place. I hate the girl. Let me come with you." The thick fear breaking her usual snark sends a wave of adrenaline through me.

"Nope," Wendy answers.

I blink. The striking freckles from one of the Reds are inches from my face, but the woman lets go of me with a start. "Wendy. She's conscious."

"Good thing we didn't dawdle," Wendy says with a satisfied nod. "Here. The weeds will be gone for good."

I force my eyes to remain half closed and keep my posture groggy, taking stock of the situation. Two long imprints in the snow and the footsteps surrounding it tell a straightforward story. Daisy and I have been dragged from the center of the clearing to the trees and tied there with a few scraps of rope.

One single row of maple trees creates a perfect circle around a tall podium with a glass cloche. Beyond them, thick evergreen trees flourish. Pines, spruces, firs, and junipers create a canopy of needles and scale-like leaves. Both of my wrists are pressed flush against the rough bark of the pine tree at my back, but Daisy has still got one hand free, her restraints loose and tied hurriedly like she put up a fight. "Take me with you. I'm not a threat," she pleads.

Wendy looks down her nose at the Spring seed. "I don't want any flowers—except for the torn-off rose petals that'll pave the way at my wedding."

Sarafina mentioned Survivor , but this is more like Naked and Afraid . True, the cold doesn't affect us, but we're still a bunch of girls in the middle of a moonlit forest, barefoot and without food. It's every woman for herself, and Wendy and her two Winter friends apparently teamed up with the Reds to take me out.

I fake a nonchalant yawn. "You shouldn't count on it, Frost." I offer her my best asinine smile and look at every single one of the Reds in turn. "Do you really think your deadly little pals won't turn on you? If I were them, I'd get rid of you as soon as possible."

"They can't find their way in a snowstorm without me," Wendy replies.

"What about when the Ice City becomes visible in the distance? Will you still trust them then?" I taunt her.

She inches closer to ram a snowball in my eyes and mouth, and I take advantage of her mistake to trip her up. Just as I'm about to kick her shin and hopefully snap her leg into two separate parts, her allies drag her out of the fray by the shoulders.

"You little snake! You're dead now," Wendy says before she spits on my bare legs.

"Don't push me, Frost. I'm tied to a tree in a flimsy cotton white dress—and growing increasingly pissed."

"What are you going to do? Throw roses at me?"

The brides chuckle between themselves as they leave, confident that two Spring seeds couldn't possibly get out of this without help, and my eyes narrow. No more Miss Nice-Flower. They're going to feel the wrath of a Shadow huntress before the day is over.

The cameras follow the other brides but for one, clearly not expecting much action from us.

Daisy tugs at her restraints like a wild stallion. "Enjoyed your nap? If you had deigned to wake up at the same time as everyone else, we wouldn't be stuck here!"

I keep my cool and observe our surroundings. "Settle down and keep your energy. You're going to need it."

"We're not going anywhere anytime soon, Sixteen."

The trees' branches are heavy with snow. Silvery patterns glimmer over the white powdery blanket covering the clearing, and the forest is quiet. Calm. A cold immensity that slows down the very beats of my heart and allows me to hold the panic at bay.

A rustling sound from the juniper closest to me sparks a fresh trail of goosebumps along my neck, and Daisy draws a sharp intake of breath. "What was that ?"

"Shush." I canvas the area for signs of life.

The foliage moves. The overlapping scales of the juniper are arranged in whorls along the branches, giving the tree a dense, feathery appearance, and I spot a white animal hiding inside.

Tiny black eyes meet mine, but it's the shape of the weasel's mouth that really gets my blood going. Instead of a run-of-the-mill carnivorous snow weasel, the creature has a long, tubular mouth that extends in my direction. A circle of tiny teeth shaped like a leech's sucker adorn the extremity.

It emits a small, high-pitched noise, and a chorus of answering calls echoes through the vegetation.

"Tell me what's going on," Daisy says on a rushed breath.

Never looking away from the creature, I point at the eyeball camera. "When I say go , you'll throw a snowball directly into that eye."

She frowns at my demand. "Why?"

"Would you rather find out what these weasels intend to do to us with their mouths? Because I'm sure neither of us would enjoy sharing a smooch."

Arms shaking, Daisy fashions a snowball with her free hand.

"Go!"

Right as her projectile hits the lens, I summon a shadow dagger to cut off my bindings and free my hands, immediately letting it fade again, just like I did during the kissing contest when I cut the scarf shackling Elio.

The memory brings acid to my mouth as I untangle myself from the leather straps and stand. I'm still unsure what possessed me to do such a thing, but if I'm honest, I can't bring myself to regret it.

The eyeball camera blinks a few times to clear its lens before it settles down again, hovering a little closer to us. Half a dozen weasels scurry along the lower branches and exchange a few warning cries before turning their eyes to Daisy, slowly creeping closer and closer to her.

I raise a brow at my tied-up comrade. "Can I trust you?"

"No, but I won't stab you in the back with an icicle. That I can promise." Her throat bobs, her wide eyes scanning the clearing like she can't quite believe what just happened. "Those bitches left us here to die. I want to beat them, and I'm not stupid enough to think I can find my way through this forest without you."

Daisy stands barefoot, ankle-deep in the snow, her feet and legs reddened by the cold. I've never seen her look so small. The silk dress meant to protect her from the cold has a small, uneven tear at the hem. It's clear that it wasn't deliberately made by one of the girls. Without the magical garment's protection, she'll freeze to death before we even have a chance to find our way to the Ice City.

"How bad is it? Can you fix it?" I ask.

Over the last few days, I've watched the Spring seeds fix small imperfections in their dresses, hair, and makeup. "Yes, it's something we can all do, and you would know that if you were truly a Spring seed. But I'll need both hands."

I untie her bindings, and her keen blue eyes never leave mine as she measures my reaction. The camera emits a series of electronic sounds and glides closer, probably desperate to pick up our quiet conversation.

"I knew I could fix it. I just wasn't sure you could," I add with a wry smile.

Daisy covers the tear in her dress with both hands and mends it with her magic. Her long blonde hair drapes over her shoulder as she squints at me. "Nice recovery, Sixteen, but I don't believe you. No offense, but a Spring seed would never"—she gestures to me up and down with her palm face up—"endure this ."

I roll my eyes, her fishing expedition into my true identity falling flat. She wants to goad me into revealing more than I have to, and I won't give her the satisfaction.

The weasels move like eels through the snow, creeping closer and closer to us. We hurry to the podium in the center of the meadow, away from our white-furred visitors and peer through the glass cloche. A red and green apple, a mirror, and a crown of thorns are tucked inside.

"What's all this for? The other girls were whispering about it before you woke up." Daisy curls her hand over the round knob located at the top of the cloche.

I rush to stop her, covering the entire dome with my hand and preventing her from lifting it. "Don't!"

She eyes me sideways. "Why?"

"I've read about this. In a fairytale."

A forced chuckle quakes her breath. "A nice fairytale, I hope?"

"There's no such thing," I mumble, slowly peeling my palm away from the glass.

Daisy uncurls her hand from the knob, but the rim of the cloche glides along the marble base of the podium and bumps against the apple. Long shadows stretch from the barren maple trees, their trunks and branches casting tall, gnarled silhouettes toward the center of the clearing.

The weasels pause as a strong breeze beats my hair forward.

"Run."

"Did you hear that?" I ask Daisy.

"Hear what?"

One weasel stands on its hind legs, its nose twitching with a series of rapid sniffs before it jumps back into the juniper hedge with a loud squeak. The other critters quickly retreat into the protection of the forest.

I turn around just in time to see a naked, gangly ice giant, twice our size, ambling toward us. His long arms swing at his sides, nearly brushing the ground, and sharp claws extend from his hands.

The moon shines brightly behind him, and the shape of his heart is visible through his quasi-translucent body. The crooked organ displays the smooth, white face of a sad, tortured man.