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"What do you want to do, Dax?" Malachi asks.
"Where does this road lead?"
"Down the mountain and around the edges of the valley before linking back up with the highway." Malachi pauses. "It's going to be a rough trip if we take it. It's little more than a cart track in places. We'll have to melt ice to get through."
"Then we melt ice," Dax says. "We can't risk leading them to Eitr, and we can't drive her into an army of Forsaken."
Malachi meets his gaze in the rearview and nods. "Then we continue forward."
"Tighten your belt, Valkyrie," Dax orders. "And stay low. If you see something moving, say something. Understood?"
"Understood."
Malachi inches the truck forward.
Reaper grabs the walkie talkie. "Damrion."
"I'm here," Damrion answers a moment later.
"There are varulv all over the mountainside."
"I heard."
"We're going to attempt to go around the valley."
"Be careful," Damrion orders. "We'll deal with the Forsaken and anyvarulvwe come across."
"What are varulv? Wolves?"
"Once, they were men. Now, they're more like hellhounds," Reaper says, his tone grim. "A bite by one is fatal, even to a Fae."
"Werewolves. You're talking about werewolves?" Why does my voice sound like that?
"Nei, Rissa. Werewolves retain some semblance of their humanity, even when they turn. Avarulvlost his long ago. He's more wolf than man, and more demon than wolf. He was born of the dark, created by the dark magic the Forsaken used to turn him. The dark is all he knows now."
Oh, my God.
"We have to go back," I whisper. "Abigail and the Blooded…" There are countless dozens of people at Eitr, people who will need Dax and his brothers if thevarulvfind the town.
"It's too late to go back. If we try, we lead them right to the gates. All we can do is go forward and pray we stay out of their path," Malachi says. "Hold on to something. It's going to get bumpy."
For the next half hour, we creep through the dark, the forest pressing in on us from all sides. I don't know if the Fae can see anything in the dark, but I can't. Malachi has the headlights off to keep our position hidden. Trees loom up out of nowhere, their branches scraping like fingers along the sides of the truck.
Howls split apart the dark, bouncing back from the mountainside in eerie, distorted echoes that send chills up and down my spine. No one says a word. The walkie talkie remains silent. Whatever's happening in the valley below happens in silence.
Are the Fae still alive?
Have thevarulvfound the Eitr?
The truck crawls to a stop, Malachi muttering a curse. "We're going to have to melt ice if we're going to cross here."
"I'll do it," Reaper says. "Just keep thejävla helveteshundaroff me if they show up."
"Ja," Dax says softly. "We will." He turns to me, cupping my cheek in his palm. "I need you to stay in the truck,bittesmå ljós. I must help Reaper."
"Please be careful," I whisper, not asking him to stay. I can't, as much as I want to do exactly that. His brother needs him. Both of them do. I can no more ask him to stay right here in this truck with me as I can ask him to stop being Fae.
"Always." He brushes his lips across mine in a soft pass, and then he and Reaper climb from the truck. The overhead lights momentarily flicker on, allowing me to see what Malachi did.
