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“He was much worse,” Emrick says darkly, glaring up at the offending castle. I couldn’t blame him for his anger, the man contributed to the downfall of their entire realm.
“Sounds like a real peach,” Jacob sighs. “But now we get to go take over his castle. Poetic justice? I think so.”
“How far to the front gates?” I ask as another sharp wind cuts through my clothes. My body has gone from numb to painful and I’m ready to be inside. I’ll light the whole town on fire if I have to, just to get warm again.
“It’s this way,” Gerwyn offers, though it avoids my actual question of how much longer we had to go. We follow dutifully as he goes into tour guide mode. “The walls are actually homes. The castle stands at the rear of the town obviously; but the walls are made up of one giant stone structure that loops through the castle itself. But that area wasn’t accessible to the people, just the guards. The barracks flanked the castle to prevent any mishaps. The soldiers were just as vicious as their leader, it would have been a suicide mission to try and sneak by.”
“His army couldn't have been that big if they shared the space with the entire population of Winter, right?”
“Quite the opposite. The entire bottom floor to the castle held the rest of the soldiers, those were the higher ranking ones who got a bit more privacy,” he explains. “There was also a smaller guard quarters near the gate.”
“Damn,” I curse as I stumble in a deep patch of snow. Bowen and Gerwyn both catch me, helping me stay upright.
The walk to the gates is more treacherous than we thought. The wind had blown the snow into a huge slope, with a thick layer of ice on top that extended out far enough that we did more sliding than walking. Emrick’s weight crunches right through it, but most of us aren’t heavy enough to do the same. It will be a miracle if I make it without breaking my neck or taking someone down with me, though Bo and Gerwyn are giving keeping me upright a hell of a shot.
After my fifth near-fall and my second scolding of squeaks from Dormy, Emrick takes me from them and picks me up, swinging me effortlessly over his back into a piggyback ride. It’s a big step up from being carried like a small child, so I won’t complain. Now I have the best view of the others’ misery, and I cackle evilly from my perch.
“Look at prince Jacob, Dormy. He’s as graceful as I am," I chuckle as Jacob glares up at me.
“I haven’t fallen down yet, you jerk," he huffs, gripping poor Andras’ arm like his life depends on it. Andras doesn't complain, instead he whispers encouragement and tries to keep both of them balanced. “Emrick, carry me too?” Emrick simply chuckles once and picks up the pace, leaving them all behind. The prospect of being behind the walls and out of the cold is too enticing to protest, though having them out of my sight worries me a bit.
We finally make it to the metal and stone gate. Emrick plops me down on my feet, not letting go until I’m stable. He starts pushing on the gate, and eventually when Andras, Maddox and Bowen pitched in, it opens with a protesting creak and an awful grinding of rusty metal hinges. I wince against the painful sound and move to take a step forward as they cross the threshold, but a roar of magic bursts outward, stopping me in my tracks.
My eyes barely have time to adjust from the blinding wave of magic when Jacob lets out a scream. The horror behind it has me turning, but his eyes are on the gate. It takes a half a se
cond of looking back at our men to notice that they’re no longer moving. Freaking out, I start running toward them but Gerwyn manages to yank me back.
“They’re magically frozen, if you touch them, you will be too. Someone warded the town against intruders,” he says solemnly. “But it feels oddly strong, not faded like a normal remnant of magic that was left over from the war." Gerwyn’s alarmed tone increases my own anxiety and I have to clench my fists to not reach out for my cursed knights. He crouches down a bit and looks around for the source of the spell, eyes scanning the stone and even the metal under their feet.
“How do we unfreeze them?” Jacob demands. He wobbles in his spot like he’s barely holding himself back from running to Andras. Gerwyn notices too, reaching out and clenching his jacket as well.
“Don’t!” He orders, more severe than I’ve ever heard him sound. His command calms my anxiety enough that I’m not hysterical. “Do you want to become an ice statue as well? Because I can’t fucking save them alone.”
“How do we save them?” we both ask at the same time. Jacob’s hand wraps around mine, squeezing almost painfully as he tries to hold himself together.
“We have to find the person responsible, they’re clearly still alive.”
I freeze. “What? How?”
“I thought that was impossible?” Jacob asks.
“It should be,” he confirms darkly. “I doubt someone came back through, and our neutral lands are the only place with viable food and water. I think your bad feelings have some merit. This person can’t have survived off of the land without repercussions.”
“That’s lovely,” I say with a shudder. I’m imagining the worst in my mind, images of demented feral fae running at us on repeat, freaking me out more.
“Magic like this can’t be reversed by anyone else. If they were dead, it would have dissipated by now.” Gerwyn’s words are saying so much more than he said out loud.
“Meaning we have to kill them to save our men?” Jacob confirms my own suspicions.
“Yes,” Gerwyn says quietly. “Because I doubt they’re reasonable.”
“What if it actually is just leftover remnants of a spell?” Jacob’s voice rises a few octaves, the news sending him into near hysterics and from his shallow breathing, I can see he’s seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. For once I have no words of comfort, I’m freaking out beside him already. My hand squeezes his and he finally takes in a full breath, looking over at me. We don’t say anything, just offering silent support we both need to process this mindfuck.
“Will it hurt them? Will they freeze to death out here?” I ask as I shift my gaze back to Gerwyn. My white haired knight looks about as shaken as we are, but from the shadows in his eyes I can tell I won’t love his answer.
“Not if we manage to free them in time. I assume they’re essentially in a frozen sleep state, the cold won’t affect them. The magic is gone now, except what is holding them like that. It was a single use defense. Leave them here, just put a protective bubble over them, much like you did for Allwyn," he advises. “It’ll help our worry if nothing else.” I flinch at the mention of the traitorous bastard, but don’t hesitate to draw power into my fingertips.
When I raise my hands to start the process, I hesitate. What if they’re like coma victims and can hear and see, but are paralyzed by the magic? Swallowing hard, I search for comforting words to say.
