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Outside, it was still snowing.
Chapter 24
Scarlett
Three days passed before Jack deemed the weather safe enough to go up the mountain. In that time, everyone in the Frost household grew irritated and tense, people constantly snapping at each other for no reason. The cats’ yowling only let up a bit during the day, and we all napped as much as we could, but the noise still made it unpleasant. We were exhausted and sleep-deprived.
Everyone in town knew about our predicament. Neighbors kept visiting, all wanting to hear the story straight from the source, which meant even napping during the day wasn’t easy. Someone was constantly at the door.
Jack’s mom, who usually loved visitors, growled every time the door bells jangled. Jack’s brothers threw snowballs at the cats and chased them around, and Jack’s dad drank entirely too much mulled wine. I eyed him warily at first, but he was a friendly, affectionate drunk. Not like my father had been.
Everyone was on edge, trying to deal as best they could, but the atmosphere in the house was stifling. When it stopped snowing, I went for a long walk with Jack, to at least let the family have some peace and quiet, but it was awful. With over thirty cats trailing behind us like a weird procession, we looked ridiculous, and everyone in town stopped us to talk, some curious, some entirely too gleeful.
When we finally set out in the morning of the fifth day of Yule, I buzzed with cool, excited energy while Jack’s face was tight with worry. He hated taking me up the mountain, but since the weather had calmed and the fresh snowfall settled, he didn’t have any more excuses.
Especially since everyone in the house barely held it together.
“Remember, just follow the trail,” Jack’s mom said from the porch. “Don’t take off your snowshoes. Come back in one piece.”
“We’ll be fine,” I called over the din the cats made, the roiling mass of furry bodies following me and Jack. “Enjoy the silence!”
“Ole Frost help me, I will,” she called, waving goodbye.
And we were off. Jack led me out of town and onto the trail that he explained was commonly used, even in winter, but only up to a point. The real difficulty would start once we got closer to the summit, because the townsfolk rarely went there.
“It’s the Yule lads’ domain,” he said, pushing a cat out of the way with his walking stick. “And while it’s all fun and games in the Yule when they parade around with their bells and drums, we’re not exactly friendly the rest of the time”
I snorted, leaning on my stick as I tried to keep up with Jack. I wasn’t unfit by any means, but walking in the wide contraptions on my feet took some getting used to. We had barely started half an hour ago, and I was already sweating and puffing, too hot in my coat. Trees covered in white loomed on either side of the trail, the forest still.
In that stillness, the cats’ howling seemed even louder and more unpleasant. I fancied it had gained a new, ululating quality to it once we’d entered the forest. Like the cats were calling out to something.
That thought made me shiver, and I pushed it away.
“Can’t imagine why you aren’t friends,” I said when I caught my breath. “Those little curse-shooting bastards sound like the best company.”
Jack tutted, shoving another cat away. Somehow so well-behaved in the Frost house yard, the little buggers now loped around us, yowling and watching with mean yellow eyes. I couldn’t wait to be rid of them.
“Be careful what you say when we get higher up,” Jack cautioned. “You can be angry all you want, but don’t go insulting them in their domain. You heard what they did to Magnar.”
“Because he didn’t greet them with a smile,” I said through clenched teeth, my anger boiling hot. Sleep deprivation and the constant yammering only made me more furious.
“Yes. Imagine what they’d do to someone who went to their settlement and called them names,” Jack said pointedly, shooting me a dark look.
“Fine,” I spat, shoving a cat away with my stick when it tried to trip me. “I won’t say anything. I just want this stupid curse gone so I can enjoy the Yule.”
It still rubbed me the wrong way to let this slide, though. To make the grueling trek up the mountain even just a bit more pleasant, I devised the perfect vengeance plan and shared it with Jack.
“So once we catch one of those sneaky little shits, I’ll just tie him up real good and attach lots of pieces of ham to his clothes,” I said with a mean smile, pushing another cat away. “I’ll hide the best bits under his clothes. And then, I’ll just leave him somewhere in the forest, smelling like dinner. He’ll be covered in hungry, yowling mountain cats, and they will rip his clothes to shreds to get to the food. How’s that?”
Jack rumbled out a reluctant laugh, his tail swishing rhythmically with every step. “It wouldn’t be the cats that ate him. A striga or a mountain troll is more likely.”
I stopped and turned, staring at him as fear crawled up my sweaty back. “What did you just say?”
Jack stopped, too, shrugging as he looked at me. “They are stronger and faster than mountain cats. And they like fresh meat. Come on, we have a long way to go.”
I set out after him, my guts churning with worry. Huffing and puffing, I caught up, almost falling over in my haste. The snowshoes were ridiculous.
“Are you saying there are monsters on this mountain? I mean, other than you and those snotty little shits?”
