Fire and Ice (29 page)

I slipped to the front entrance of the tree unseen and out into the stillness of night. A chill lingered in the air, though no snow had fallen here so far. I was grateful for that at least. I'd be knee deep in it soon enough.

The direction I needed to travel was due north, according to Tilak's compass and I followed both the path and my instincts for nearly an hour. From the utter silence, came the sound. Somewhere in the inky darkness a voice wailed. Mournful cries that echoed through the otherwise silent woods. Even the wind stopped, as if to listen. I wandered past rows of trees, motionless in the night. The chilling feeling dripped over me with the realization that maybe I shouldn't have come this way. Bone fragments and whole animal carcasses lined the ravine next to me, and my mind reeled at the sight.

Then, as though waking from a trance, I came to my senses. I had to go back. This was crazy. If I didn't make it back to Noctria, Adrius would be no better off and others would suffer as well. I'd just have to figure out a way to deal with Julien. Come up with a new plan. He couldn't force me to go anywhere, and I needed his help in rescuing Adrius. Whatever had gone on between them, they were still brothers.

The decision was made. My mind was set. So instead of turning back, why was I drawn to the embankment ahead of me?

Climbing to the top of the mount, I could clearly see down into the clearing below. A figure stood cloaked in a crimson robe, a jagged black stripe ran down the center. His face was shadowed by a draping hood. He leaned over a stone tablet, perched on something that resembled an altar. The tablet was engraved with strange symbols and shapes, each emitting a different neon glow. As he passed his hands over it, purple flames leapt into the air, and an ear-piercing shriek coursed through the night. If it was some kind of ritual, it was unlike anything I could have imagined.

I squinted at the mystical tablet. From the dark corners of the clearing, several more beings came, wearing similar robes, forming a circle around the altar. Each face was carefully hidden from view, even in the eerie light that filled the space. Assuming there were actually faces hidden beneath those hoods. The thought made me shiver.

The last to enter were carrying a woman… a
human
woman. Her body was limp, her skin milky. She dragged a broken rag doll, bleeding stuffing. The woman's face came into view. Her blond hair was matted, and her clothes filthy and torn. Tears stained her ashen cheeks and dark circles rimmed her wide frightened eyes.

My knuckles whitened as my fingers dug into the hillside under me. As if sensing my presence, a sea of faceless crimson hoods turned in perfect unison. My breath caught, and I froze, wondering if it made sense to stay or run. But then I realized they weren't actually looking at me.

“Is it time, my lord?” a strangled voice hissed.

“It is indeed,” the reply came from the robed figure in the center. His face tilted up toward the full moon. “Bring forth the gift.”

A rhythmic chanting swelled, although I couldn't tell where it was coming from. They placed the woman's listless body on the stone temple, draping her across the glowing tablet. Her head rolled back and her arms dangled over the sides, the rag doll slipping from limp fingers. Someone stepped forward and cut off a chunk of her hair with a blade, leaving the rest of her cropped pale hair matted to her skull. In only took a moment to see that it was matted with dried blood. My stomach lurched and my palms were coated in a film of sweat. I could sense she was still alive, although barely.

The one in pure crimson spoke in a deep guttural tone, uttering words I couldn't understand. As he waved his arms wildly, raging purple flames shot into the air, piercing her wilted frame. The chanting grew louder, faster; the flames took on the shape of hands, raking across her body. The woman screamed, her body convulsing violently. The one they called master held up a gilded dagger, its eerie gleam reflecting the flames and moonlight. I gasped, slapping both hands over my mouth and my heart jammed into my throat.
What were they doing to her?
A cold voice inside my head screamed, “
Run!”

Turning in horror, I backed away from the nightmarish scene, racing blindly through the forest. Branches slapped at me as I fled, tripping over roots and snagging my bare arms on the thorns. I pushed through the tangled shrub, jumping over rocks and ducking Jurassic-sized spider webs. The night was aglow with thousands of tiny white lights — fireflies, perhaps… hard to tell — they were a blur as I streaked by.
Faster, Lorelei, faster.
Barreling toward the path, I heard shuffling footsteps behind me. Too frightened to turn around, I raced breathlessly through the overgrown maze of brushwood, scrambling up hills, and over mud-covered gullies.

A figured appeared in front of me. I stopped so abruptly that I tumbled backward to the ground. It cocked its head and two beady, cat-like eyes peered at me.

“You
are
quite a long way from home, are you not? Your timing is most ideal. The other is almost finished.” He was one of the figures from the fire, wearing a similar full-length robe. But this time I could see what was under the hood. Rotting skin stretched over an elongated rat-like face with sunken eyes and a pointed nose hooked over paper thin lips.

Unable to move, I stood there fixated on his almost human appearance. He smiled, and his mouth spread wide open, too wide for any human mouth, exposing a double row of long piranha-like teeth. The skin around it split and cracked, showing slashes of raw flesh.

Scrambling to my feet, I sprinted in the opposite direction. Behind me laughter echoed through the trees. I fought my way through the dark forest, unsure if I was being followed or not. Stumbling through a deep ditch, I crawled out onto the fork of a path.
Which way, which way?
Out of breath, I paused, debating. Something crashed in the woods. Dread crept up over me, overtaking my body. Then the ground began to tremble. They were after me. Riders. Scores of them. The pounding of hooves and the warning cry of horns could not be mistaken. Before I could turn they were upon me… surrounding me. I froze, arms pasted to my side, as dozens of purple tipped arrows aimed for my heart.

“You are afraid, yes?” It was a familiar voice, like nails scraping across a chalk board. The one who had stopped me made his way through the throng.

“Your future will unfold differently for you now, human. Our celebrations have only begun, and it will please the Ice Goddess much to receive the offering of two human hearts this full moon.”

Offering? Was that what they had done to that woman? But how had she come here? Clearly this cult had no idea who I was… or who everyone believed me to be. That was an advantage, because if they discovered I was not only human but part fey, they would serve my heart to the Ice Witch all the faster. I had to stall. Stay alive long enough to figure a way out.

I eyed the cloaked riders. The hoods hung over their heads. Where there should have been a face, there was nothing but a black void — empty, hollow, unnerving. Taking a long, deep breath I steadied myself.

“If I were to go missing, my friend, Lord Adrius, the Elven Prince of Elyssium, would send a search party that would include the powerful wizard Hawthrin to find me. I'm sure you would rather not suffer through the wrath of their anger, should they find you have…” I swallowed, “offered my heart to your goddess.”

“And why should I believe you, human? It is known here your tongue is as forked as this road,” he hissed.

“…Because, I have this.” Fumbling in my pocket, I pulled out a small vial of light.

The horses twitched uneasily, as the riders lowered their arrows.

“It is a trick!” the rat-faced one cried. “The goddess will not be pleased with her trickery. She is a thief. We have ways of dealing with thieves here, human. Your world sees fit to lock your humans away for taking what is not theirs. Here we have other means. Beginning with the removal of the offending limb.”

My mind raced.
This plan is not working out as well as I'd hoped.
I had to keep stalling. They seemed in no hurry to kill me, I reasoned, and since they apparently made their offering at the altar I witnessed earlier, they would likely not kill me on the spot. I hoped.

“Are you suggesting I, a human girl, could have made my way into the Citadel of Elyssium, behind the backs of the Elven guards, snuck up on a wizard of the high order, and made off unseen with his treasured magical possession? Surely, only someone possessing powerful magic could pull off something like that and live to tell.”

The rat-face moved closer. A wide smile curled his lips, his yellow eyes narrowing.

“You are powerless to defy her… or to challenge us. Yet you dare to stand here dripping defiance.” His head cocked slightly to the side. “Why is that? Do you no longer feel the need for life to course through your veins? If it is the sweet venom of death you long for, I can assuage your need,” he whispered. A long crooked finger stroked my hair.

Unflinching, I met his stare head on. It was so much easier to be brave when there were others to count on. But I was far from Mythlandria, Adrius was trapped, and I had no idea where I had left Tilak and Julien. I was alone, which meant there was no one to count on but myself. If I couldn't get out of this, how could this quest possibly succeed?

Rat-face turned to the riders. “She does not appear to have magic. But only the Goddess of Ice can be sure. She will instruct and guide us, and we will do with you…” He pointed, stabbing my chest with his finger. “Whatever she commands.” He stalked between the milling horses. “Bring her.”

As I opened my mouth to object, an arm caught me around the waist, hoisting me onto the front of a metal saddled horse. Cold sharp steel pressed hard against my side, bruising my ribs and I dared not turn to look at the faceless rider.

I assumed I'd be taken to their sacrificial altar or, worse yet, to their ice goddess. What I didn't expect was for my captor to slow his pace to a trot, then turn and gallop in the opposite direction. The faceless rider spurred his mount, through the darkness, while I buried my fingers in the horse's mane, once again trying desperately not to fall. A muscular arm threaded around my waist, holding me in place. My heart was pounding so hard I knew he must be able to feel it
. Just don't fall,
I repeated to myself over and over as the horse accelerated to a dangerously high speed.

We were riding so fast we barely had time to stop at the fast approaching cliff. At the last second the horse bucked, throwing me into the chest of the rider holding me from behind. A sudden chill coursed through me as his cool breath caressed my neck. I wanted to scream, to run… to do
something
, but right now we were precariously close to the edge of a precipice and all I could do was hold my breath.

Then the horse stepped forward off the edge of the cliff into the air. I stifled a shriek as my stomach dropped into my boots. A suspended bridge made entirely of ice as see-through as glass, and equally fragile, grew inch by inch with every step we took. My mind froze, but there was no time for my body to do the same. Before I could think, we had moved halfway across the precarious crossing. With nothing but the snow-dusted surface to cling to, the steed inched its way across the bridge, trying to remain upright, while I tried not to look down. In all the years spent fussing over being afraid of blood and singing in public I didn't realize my fear of heights could ever be so continually challenged.

I almost slipped off the side, and my heart slammed against my chest, but the rider wrapped his arm tightly around my waist, holding me firmly in place. When I was sure I couldn't hold my breath any longer without passing out, we stepped onto solid ground. The sound of hooves receded in the distance behind us. My heart continued to race as a new terror came over me. I was alone with this rider, far from the rest of his clan with their plans of sacrifice. But I had no idea what he planned on doing with me. Fresh panic swelled inside me, threatening to cut off my oxygen.

The mystery rider slid down from the mount, and threw back his crimson hood. I stared into the familiar silver eyes of my nightmares. The strength drained from my limbs and I almost fell to the ground.

I gaped in disbelief and relief as Zanthiel plunged his sword into the edge of the icy bridge; the cracking trembled through the air. With the shatter of broken glass, the icy shards splintered apart, falling silently into the raging water below. After the Armageddon scale thunder fell a deafening silence.

He nodded at the chasm behind us. “What was after you will have to travel for days before finding another crossing. And longer still for them to notice you are missing.”

“How—how did you—?” An icy gale howled, drowning out my question. Wind surged up from the abyss, like an angry cry. My body convulsed with shivers.

He led the horse forward, safely away from the rift then tossed his cloak around my trembling shoulders.

“Come on, we should get you out of here before you become a frozen treat for whatever chooses to hunt you next.”

“Ha,” I replied, with a short humorless laugh then repeated my question through chattering teeth. “How did you find me?”

“The summer court has been tracking your progress, or lack thereof. And word was sent from the dwarf.”

“Tilak?” I frowned. “And the summer fey sent
you
?

He smirked. “Of course not.”

“Well, where is Tilak now? How did he know I was missing?”

“How should I know?” He held out a hand to help me down from the red-eyed stallion which threw back its head with a fiery snort. “Who knows what goes on in the mind of a dwarf?”

I glanced back across the gorge, toward the place where I came far too close to becoming the next human sacrifice. I climbed down, still unsure whether my rescue was actually a rescue and not a lateral move out of the proverbial frying pan, into the fire… considering my rescuer.

“Carnal Sorcerers,” he said, meeting my inquisitive gaze and answering my question before I could ask it. “They're only half living. They are the soulless shadow creatures of Noctria. To survive, they bond with humans by sacrificing a human's soul. They have no other way of reproducing, so they reproduce prolifically in the hopes of creating offspring possessing their same genetic code. The established laws of nature prevent them from succeeding… and then, they wait for death,” he said. “That is when they become truly dangerous.”

I couldn't control the shudder that crept over me. “What they did, to that woman…” I barely managed to get the words out without gagging.

“She was looking for a child taken by Faeries. Neither will ever leave the Nevermore. Carnal Sorcerers appease the gods with the souls of impure, lost humans. And trolls are fed the internal remains.” He looked up at me and frowned. “But as the Chosen One, they had other plans for you.”

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Why wasn't I going to be troll food?” The thought was almost too horrifying to consider.

Zanthiel leaned in closer, his cold breath burning against my damp skin. “You were not on the menu.” He inhaled deeply then moved back. “The fact that you stand here still with life coursing through your veins is proof of that. I am here to see you make it to the Faery Islands without further mishap or delay. As amusing as your little adventures have been, the Summer Queen grows tired of waiting on you.”

“I can't leave for Faery,” I countered. Not yet. Not without Adrius.”

Zanthiel paused, his liquid eyes narrowing. “The
elf
… Surely you're not serious.” He grabbed my arm, but I pulled away, locking my muscles.

“You don't understand,” I said.

“I do not have any desire to understand. I am here on a purpose… To bring you to Tir Na Nog.”

I folded my arms across my chest, and he shook his head, a slow feral grin spreading across his face.

“I can take you by force if you prefer,” he offered, his metallic voice dripping with forced sweetness.

Tilting my chin upwards, I withdrew the sword Adrius had given me after the Redcap attack, cringing at the sound of rasping metal. It glowed in my hand, purple smoke coiling around my arm, up the blade and into the night.

“I'm not leaving without him, Zanthiel. Period.” I held the sword out in front of me, tightening my grip.

His mouth curved into a demonic grin.

“So. You would trade your life for his? How noble,” he said, stepping toward the blade.

I stepped back.

“Why not? He is one of the purest souls I've ever met. I can't think of someone more worthy of giving my life for.”

He took another step forward. “There are no pure souls any more than there are pure gods watching over you. If you cannot protect yourself, no one else can. Powerful magic and negotiating a favorable bargain regulate this world. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.”

“That's pretty cynical even for someone as ice-hearted as you," I said, jabbing the air with my blade.

"I am truthful. It's the beings inhabiting the world we exist in that are ice-hearted, such as the ones trying to drain you of blood.” He smirked and leaned forward into my blade. “Now if you're doing this, then do it. Or get out of my way. I'm good with either choice, but I do not need your death on my conscience."

This time I stepped toward him, but lowered my sword.

“Like you have a conscience… As if my death was any concern to you at all,” I spat.

“What sort of being do you take me for?”

“A petty, twisted, selfish one.”

He gave a dark chuckle, his gaze shifting to the floral chain circling my wrist. Adrius had purchased it for me back when we were in Mythlandria, from a local artisan who tells the story of your life with flowers. She had held onto my hand for a moment, with her eyes closed, chanted something aloud and then set to work fashioning a wild flower bracelet, feverishly pulling blooms from an array of dust-covered jars. I still remember the meaning she assigned to each blossom in the intricate weave. Snowdrops for purity, carnations for a mother's love, viscaria for an invitation to dance, witch-hazel for a magic spell, amaranth for immortal love, coriander for lust, grass for submission, lobelia for malevolence, and lemon balm for Faerie sight. Right about now, I was wishing she'd left that one out. She had packed it in a box with three shades of poppies, which she said represented my journey; white for eternal love, yellow for extreme betrayal, and black… for death. Adrius had scoffed at her reading, but I insisted on wearing the bracelet, which was breathtaking to look at and smelled divine. Even if I wasn't too crazy about what it foretold. The memory of him purchasing it for me and slipping it onto my wrist with a kiss washed away any negative symbolism it held.

Zanthiel's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“You think you love him, don't you?”

“I know I love him.”

He shook his head, and I saw my reflection in his mercury glare. "Loving him is like drinking poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same. Slow and painful, the fire will consume you from within."

A twinge of anger stabbed me. “So tell me then, who do you think I should love, since you're such an expert?” I lashed out. “You?”

Zanthiel moved toward me, until his face was inches away from mine. I held my ground, resisting the equally compelling urge to either retreat or eliminate the space between us completely. Icy fingers wrapped around my wrist, lifting my floral bracelet to his nose.

“That,” he said, locking eyes with me, “would be like an ice dagger to the heart.” He sniffed the bouquet, still holding my gaze. “Quick. Painless. And cold.”

“Some choice,” I said too softly, 
pulling back my wrist as I stepped away, “—Death by fire or death by ice.”