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An icy wind whipped down the street and clawed against the exposed skin of her cheeks and nose. The air was so cold that it burned the inside of her nose and stung the back of her throat. The sky above was a dark expanse of clouds, not a hint of stars in sight. The wind carried a hint of something frosty and heavy. The coming blizzard Zavni had mentioned.
Melantha pulled the hood of her parka over the red, woolen hat and tied the leather strap at the chin to keep the wind from yanking the hood off her head. Once her hood was secure, she tugged on her fur-lined mittens.
Silently, Zavni led the way along Osmana’s outer wall, avoiding any pools of light cast by homes or the torches of guards patrolling the wall above.
Not far from the main gate, they reached a section of wall where Eyvindur was waiting, also carrying a pack. He bowed to both Rharreth and Melantha before he waved up at the patrolling guards.
These two guards must have been ones still loyal to Rharreth because they lowered a rope. They pulled first Rharreth, then Melantha, and finally Zavni and Eyvindur to the wall top. They then lowered all four of them to the ground on the far side, one by one with Rharreth the last to leave Osmana’s wall top. As he stepped from the loop at the end of the rope, he gave one last look at the wall above, as if memorizing his city before he left for the final time.
It would not be the final time. Melantha would do everything in her power to make sure of that. Their people needed Rharreth too much for them to fail.
After a quick whispered conversation with Zavni that Melantha could not hear, Rharreth led the way, followed by Melantha. Zavni and Eyvindur took up the rear. The two shield brothers stepped in Rharreth’s tracks as if to obscure just how many people had left Osmana during the night.
After circling around the main gate, they entered the land surrounding Gror Grar that had been seared with Farrendel’s magic. Even Melantha could feel it, still sparking through the ground beneath her feet.
Once they were well out of sight of Osmana and standing in the gully beneath the shadow of the ruins of Gror Grar, Rharreth halted and turned to them. “I believe this is where we part.”
“If all goes well, we will lead Drurvas and his army on a merry chase.” Zavni grinned before he clasped Rharreth’s forearm. “Stay safe, the both of you.”
Rharreth clasped Zavni’s forearm in return, then did the same with Eyvindur. “We will meet you at Argar Point in a week. A week and a half at the most.”
Zavni and Eyvindur both bowed one last time before they turned, and set out in the direction of the train tracks that ran near Gror Grar. If Vriska told Drurvas the false direction, hopefully he would believe the two sets of mostly obscured tracks heading in a direction that matched what he had been told were Rharreth and Melantha.
When they were alone, Rharreth turned to Melantha, his eyebrows lifted, a question in his dark blue eyes.
Melantha lifted his chin. “I am no weakling, Rharreth. I am strong enough for this. Now, lead the way.”
With a nod, Rharreth turned toward a gully splitting off from the main trail. Melantha followed him inside, the dark stone walls rising above her. In places, ice drooled down the rock in giant icicles that looked like a frozen waterfall. The snow inside the gully was not deep, so they trudged along in their boots without stopping to put on either the snowshoes or skis.
The gully narrowed to a mere crevice, half-filled with rubble from Farrendel’s magic. Mountains rose on either side of them, their peaks shattered and flattened.
Melantha clambered over several boulders and shattered pieces of the rock wall before she and Rharreth entered a section that widened once again.
Rharreth halted and turned. Icy white magic swirled around his fingers before he sent a blast of snow past Melantha, obliterating the tracks they had left.
Once that was done, he pressed his hand to one of the walls. He grimaced, lines digging into his forehead and around his mouth, as more of his magic sparkled around his fingers. The stones of the crevice groaned as they started to fill in the gap, though they still glowed faintly blue with Farrendel’s magic.
Her brother’s magic still in the stone must be why Rharreth was straining to make them move.
Melantha set her hand over Rharreth’s. Touching him, she could sense the battle of magics, and she added her own magic to the mix, easing it between Farrendel’s burning, crackling magic and Rharreth’s cold, blustery power.
Stone snapped into place across the crevice, jagged edges and jutting ledges forming to give it a natural look. For a final touch, Rharreth added a dusting of snow and a layer of icicles trailing down the rocks.
Rharreth pulled his hand away. “Thank you. That was much easier with you shielding me from your brother’s magic.”
“You are welcome, though...” Melantha glanced from him to the rock wall. “I thought you were not going to use your magic in case Drurvas could sense it.”
“I did not dare use my magic in Osmana, but here your brother’s magic is so strong that it will obscure any traces of my magic to those chasing us. And, since I am the only one able to even work magic in this section of Kostaria, it is unlikely he will suspect that I wiped out our tracks or put this wall in place.” Rharreth set off again down the gully. “We must keep going. I won’t dare use magic again until we are well away from Osmana.”
As Melantha marched after Rharreth, the first snowflakes began to fall. As the snow fell harder, the crunch of their boots on the snow was muffled.
Finally, Melantha and Rharreth stepped into a valley. Mountains at their back separated them from Osmana while more jagged peaks rose in the distance in front of them.
“This is a good spot to teach you to ski.” Rharreth reached behind his head to fumble with the straps holding the skis and poles onto his pack.
Melantha helped him unstrap them, then she watched as he showed her how to put them on. The wooden ski was thinner than her foot as she strapped her boot into place. One strap went over the toe of her boot, pinning her toes to the ski. The second strap went from the first strap and around her heel to keep her foot from slipping out of the first but leaving her heel free to move up and down.
It was harder than it looked to balance on the first ski while she put on the second. Once the leather straps were secure, but not pinching, she balanced on the skis while she claimed the poles from Rharreth. The skis felt slippery beneath her, like they would slide out from under her at any moment.
