Chapter 29

29

K yrie

We hold on to the reins of our horses, who stand calmly waiting. They’re small but strong, with thick coats to keep them warm in the harsh climate of the mountains.

“Ranger and Missy are both as surefooted as they come,” Grigor says. Missy is the bigger of the two and is Damon’s horse. Ranger isn’t as heavyset but will do me just fine.

I give him a pat.

“Those two are just as good.” He gestures to Thesha and Xander, who also have horses packed and ready.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything,” Damon tells him.

Our saddlebags are filled with food. Our clothes are clean. Not just that, but Grigor insisted that I take some of his late wife’s clothing, too.

“Are you sure you don’t want a bottle of blackberry wine? It’ll go a long way to warming you up on your travels.”

Xander chuckles. “Very sure, thank you.”

I throw my arms around Grigor. “Thank you for everything.”

“You are most welcome, young lady. I wish you all the best of luck.”

“Let me pay you, Grigor.” Xander tries to take his pouch from his belt, but the older man shakes his head.

“No payment. It was wonderful having guests in the house. You are welcome back anytime.”

“It’s too much. You gave us swords and daggers, as well.” Xander touches the sword in a scabbard at his hip. Between what we had when we arrived and the items Grigor has kindly donated, we are all well-armed.

“And we’re taking four of your horses,” Thesha tells him, holding the reins of a sorrel gelding with the thickest mane and tail I have ever seen on a horse.

“I don’t need the swords. What will I do with them? I’m too old. And as for the horses, I have plenty. I don’t need them all. Look after them as best you can and, if need be, let them loose, and they will – gods willing – find their way back home.”

“And you know what to say if the fae come to question you?” Damon asks.

Grigor nods with much enthusiasm. “I need to tell them that you set off in that direction.” He points in the opposite direction any of us will be taking. “Don’t worry, I know how to act doddery.” He hunches his shoulder and gets this hazy look in his eyes. “Let me think…” He puts his fingers to his temples. With his shoulders hunched and the expression on his face, he seems to age a good couple of years. “I can’t quite recall.” He pretends to be trying to conjure a memory. Then he smiles broadly, standing tall. “It normally works very well. They’ll think I’m half senile. That I’m completely daft and don’t know what I’m talking about.” He snickers.

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Damon says, touching the side of his arm. “If you need to tell them everything, do it. Don’t die trying to protect us.”

“Absolutely,” Thesha says.

“It won’t come to that,” Grigor says.

“Thank you so much.” Thesha hugs him.

“I haven’t had this much attention from lovely lasses in many a year. I could get used to it.” He gives a great big belly laugh.

We all laugh too, a lump swelling in my throat. I hate goodbyes. I can’t help but think that I have a big one coming up.

First, Xander and then Damon shake hands with the kind older man. He clasps Damon’s hand for a little longer. “All of the very best. I believe in you, lad.” He gives him a wink. “I was so very glad to see you. It was an unexpected miracle. We’ve waited a long time for this. A long time, indeed. Do us proud, son.”

“I will.” Damon sounds a little choked up.

“I’m going inside now,” Grigor says. “Good luck to you all.” He comes over to me. “You are most welcome to come and stay at any time.” He clasps my hands in his. Damon asked earlier if it would be okay if I came to stay at some point in the future, and Grigor heartily agreed. “That goes for any of you folks. Any time, and I mean that. The company would be most welcome.”

“Stay safe,” I tell him.

We watch Grigor walk away. Xander thought it might be better if he didn’t see which direction we took. You can’t divulge information if you don’t have it.

“He knows you’re the icefae king,” Thesha says to Damon.

“I’m quite sure he does.” Damon nods.

“This is it, then,” Thesha says to me. “You’re really going to stay at the Ice Court?”

I nod.

“We can’t change your mind?” Xander asks, glancing at Damon like he knows he had a big hand in the decision.

“No. I’m afraid not,” I all but whisper.

“Are you certain that the Ice Court is the safest place for Kyrie?” Thesha asks Damon.

“I’m not sure of anything. There were people there I trust with everything.” He takes my hand as he says it, glancing at me, his gaze softening.

“So, this is goodbye.” Thesha steps forward, and we hug.

I hug Xander, too. “Take care of him,” I tell him.

“I will.”

Damon says his goodbyes as well. He’s joining Xander, Thesha, and the beastfae king Orion and his wife as soon as he drops me off. I don’t know where exactly. We figured the less I know about these matters, the better.

After saying our goodbyes, we mount up. Thesha and Xander head in the opposite direction to us.

Our horses start walking away. I turn in the saddle, watching them go for a few seconds before facing forward.

“We’ll give the horses a few minutes to warm up, and then we need to ride.”

I nod, looking down at the leather gloves on my hands. They’re fur-lined and very warm. Another of Isolde’s things that Grigor insisted I take. I am grateful.

“It’ll be much slower going when it gets steep and slippery with ice and snow,” Damon says.

From here, the mountain looks impossible to navigate. I look up, seeing the white of the snow. “It looks treacherous.”

“Like Grigor said, these horses are surefooted. They’ll get us there. There are several well-known paths up the mountain, and one that is rarely used at all because hardly anyone knows about it. It’ll take us to the secret entrance into the Ice Court and into the heart of the castle. You need to memorize our route, Kyrie. You’ll need to use it to get back to Grigor when the time comes. Make sure you take note of markers along the way.”

“Yes, I will.”

The air is cold. I’m grateful for the layers of clothing and lined fur boots that Grigor insisted I take, along with a fur vest, which I am wearing beneath my woolen chemise and oilskin coat.

Damon is just as layered. We’re ready to tackle the mountain that will take us to the Ice Court.

All too soon, we kick our horses into an easy lope that covers the soft ground. The landscape starts off fairly desolate, with many dead trees, but that quickly changes. The further we get, the greener and more vibrant the trees and scrubs look. There is more than one species of pine. The terrain grows steeper, and the air colder and thinner as we ascend, but the horses seem undeterred. They move sure-footedly over the rocky terrain, their hooves barely making a sound on the ground, which is now dotted with patches of snow.

Overhead, the clouds begin to gather, casting a shadow over the landscape and adding to the chill in the air. But we press on, determined to reach our destination.

I pull my hood over my head as the snow begins to fall. We slow to a gentle jog as we follow on a narrow path that leads up the mountain.

The trees become sparser, and soon we are climbing over rocks and navigating through steep inclines. But our horses are sturdy and strong, carrying us effortlessly upwards with each stride.

The snow falls faster and harder, so we find a rocky overhang and decide to stop for a break.

We huddle beneath the outcrop, together with our horses, sitting with our backs against the rock.

Damon hands me a skin, and I drink my fill of the cool water before handing it back to him.

“You probably thought I forgot.” His voice cuts through the sound of the falling snow.

My heart stutters. “Forgot what, exactly?” I ask as it picks up speed, beating beneath my ribs. I’m pretty sure I know what he is referring to.

He chokes out a soft laugh. “Really? You’re going to act like you don’t know.”

I sigh. “My birthing day is hardly important out here and right now.” I’m smiling; I can’t help it.

“It’s important to me, just as you are important to me, Kyrie.” He looks me in the eye.

A flush of pleasure warms me from my toes all the way up to the tips of my ears.

“I have something very small. I’ve had it with me all along.” His cheeks suffuse with a touch of color that isn’t from the cold. “It’s small and silly. It—” He’s shaking his head.

It’s adorable that someone as big and imposing as Damon would be nervous about giving me a gift. Something he told me about at the salt mines. Something he must have carried with him through all of our adventures.

“Whatever it is, I am sure I will love it.” I smile at him.

“I wish it could be gold and jewels. You are worth that and more.” He takes out a small piece of folded-up cloth and hands it to me. “Don’t expect too much,” he warns.

Instead of arguing with him like I want to, I open the gift and gasp when I see it.

“I warned you, it isn’t much.”

“Stop it,” I tell him, a grin on my lips as a rush of affection and love floods me. This man. This sweetheart. I hold the ring up, examining it.

“I will replace it one day…perhaps,” he mutters. “I hope to replace it.”

I pull off my gloves. “I don’t want it replaced. It’s perfect. It must have taken you a long time to make.” I slip it onto my finger and hold my hand up. “It fits me perfectly. I can’t imagine the work involved.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t even wear it. Please don’t feel like you have to just because I gave it to you.”

“Are you kidding, Damon? I love it. It’s the best thing anyone has ever given me.” My eyes are welling with tears. “It’s beautiful.” I mean it with my whole heart. The ring has been fashioned from one of the iron tokens from the salt mine. It will have taken many hours to painstakingly fashion it into a band. Many hours of hammering. But at the same time, it would have taken a deft touch not to accidentally break it.

“Thank you.” I reach up and gently brush my mouth against his. Then Damon pulls me into a tight hug. “Happy birthing day, love,” he whispers into the top of my hair. We hold on to one another for a while.

“We’d better get going. It looks like this storm isn’t letting up. There is a narrow pass we need to navigate. It won’t be possible if the snow gets too thick.”

I nod, taking one last look at my ring before pulling my gloves back on. Then we mount up and set out. The next few hours go by slowly.

“You okay?” Damon asks me for the hundredth time.

“I’m good. Glad for the saddle horn.” I smile. I’ve had to grab it several times as Ranger scrambles up a particularly rocky patch. Right now, we’re on a narrow lip on the side of the mountain as the snow continues to fall. One slip, and we’re dead. I keep my eyes trained ahead.

I pull my hood tighter and hunch my shoulders against the cold. It feels like we’re riding through a frozen wasteland, the only sounds are of our horses’ hooves on the snow, the wind, and our collective breathing.

I am thankful when we enter a section that seems to be carved out of the mountain. This must be the pass Damon spoke of. It blocks out the wind, with steep sides on either side of us. There isn’t much room, my feet very nearly scraping on the rock.

“The entrance isn’t too much farther,” Damon tells me. “The worst is almost over.”

Just as he says it, a chorus of howls sounds from somewhere behind us. They sound close.

I suck in a breath and look behind us. “Please tell me that’s the wind.”

“It’s hywolves,” Damon growls, picking up the pace.

No!

No! No! No!

It can’t be. Not now. Not when we’re almost at the entrance to the tunnels that will take us into the Ice Court. We’re almost in the clear, but almost isn’t good enough.

Hywolves are a mix of wolves and hyenas, only bigger and infinitely more aggressive.

The snowflakes fly past us in a blur as Ranger starts to jog. I hold on tight, fear coursing through my veins. The last thing I want is to be caught by those vicious creatures.

“Just a little further,” I tell Ranger, who grows a little skittish. I’m trying hard to ignore the pounding of my heart and the icy wind that bites at my face.

My horse picks up his pace, quickly navigating through the narrow path. The rock walls on either side seem to close in on us, and I can almost feel the icy breath of the hywolves on the back of my neck.

There is more howling, closer this time. They sound like they are right there.

“We can’t outrun them,” Damon yells, his voice tight with tension.

“What are we going to do?”

“Fight. I’m going to do my best to avoid using my powers, but I fear I may have to, depending on how many there are.”

A chorus of howls goes up behind us yet again, and from the sound of things, there are a whole lot of them. A big pack, and they’re out for blood.

“They’re in full hunt mode,” Damon says, coming to a halt and dismounting. “Hold on tight to the horses. I’ll take care of the hywolves.”

He hands me the reins.

“Be careful,” I tell him, my voice shrill.

Thankfully, the gully has widened up just a smidgen, giving me enough room to hold both animals. It’s not so wide as to allow too many wolves at us at once, and that might just be our saving grace.

Damon draws his sword, and the horses grow even more skittish, tossing their heads and dancing on the spot. Their eyes are wide and rolling in fear. Froth lathers their mouths.

I watch as Damon prepares to face the oncoming pack of hywolves; my heart is pounding. I try to stay calm, reminding myself that Damon is a skilled fighter and can handle this. Still, it’s unnerving, to say the least.

The hywolves come into view, their eyes glowing with bloodlust. They’re so much bigger than I ever imagined. Their hackles are up. The front one growls low. There’s a good ten or twelve of them, maybe more. I swallow hard, not sure how we’re going to get out of this.

Damon draws a second sword. He now has one in each hand.

The hywolves let out a terrifying howl as they charge at Damon. He stands his ground, blades ready. “Off with you!” he yells in a deep voice. “Go!” He waves the swords. He advances on them, shouting at them to leave.

They all stop. The first one cowers for a moment, ears going back. Then, the beast leaps and meets its death at the end of Damon’s sword.

The beast yelps as steel cleaves through flesh and bone, and the wolf lies twitching at his feet, bleeding out into the snow.

I have to hold on tightly to the horses, who want to bolt. I don’t blame them. I talk gently to them, watching white-knuckled as two wolves stalk Damon, moving as one. They are quick when they pounce, but Damon is quicker. With a swift swing of his swords, he takes them down, one after the other. Their howls are cut short as Damon’s blades find their mark.

The other hywolves pause, hesitating for a moment. They seem to consider turning back, but their primal instincts must take over because they surge forward again, determined to tear into Damon and make him pay for the lives of their packmates.

Damon meets them with a ferocity that takes my breath, his swordplay becoming more fluid and precise with each passing moment. His movements are elegant and deadly as he finds an opening in their ranks to strike at their leader – the largest of the pack. The creature’s heavy paws come down in a brutal swipe aimed at Damon’s face, but Damon is one step ahead. He ducks beneath the paw and plunges his sword deep into the hywolf’s chest, plunging his other sword into a second wolf.

He pulls the swords free. The remaining wolves stop. The front one snarls, showing its teeth. Then, it backs up a stride or two.

I hold my breath.

Damon’s eyes never leave the hywolves as he readjusts his grip on the sword hilts. Sweat dampens his brow as he advances, shouting at them to leave. He swipes his swords, yelling in a hard, deep voice.

“Be gone! Go or die!”

With a final howl, they turn and run back into the snowstorm, disappearing from sight.

I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart rate finally starting to slow down. I look over at Damon, who is sheathing his swords and walking toward me with a tired but satisfied expression on his face.

As he gets to me, I hug him close. “You did it.”

He pulls me in close, resting his head against the top of mine. It feels so good to be wrapped up in his warm embrace. I close my eyes, feeling warm for the first time since we left Grigor’s farm.

He pulls away a fraction, his gaze going to my mouth, where it lingers. I see him wrestle with himself. All I want is for him to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gives a sad smile and releases me. “We should get going. Make sure you memorize the terrain so that you can find the gully again.”

“I will,” I say as we mount up. My heart gets heavier with every step my horse takes.