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We stumbled on, fighting the wind, the snow, and consciousness. The cold dragged me down, sapping my strength. It was all right though, because Lark was with me. And Draven—with Love’s crown firmly in his grip.
When we came to the bridge, its swinging length stretched across the chasm, to I assumed a secure landing on the other side. Snow and mist swirled, obscuring the other side. We stepped onto groaning timbers and creaking ropes.
“Hurry!” Noemi called, her blue cloak the only beacon as she raced across the bridge and disappeared into the mist.
“You have Arin?” Draven asked. “I can help her cut the ropes.”
“Go,” Lark said.
Draven left me to slump against Lark, and the warlord paced ahead, soon disappearing in the whiteout too.
Lark panted in my ear. We hobbled on, surrounded by snow and the hollow howl of the bitter wind.
Razak’s laughter sailed on that wind.
“Cut the ropes!” Lark yelled.
The mist parted, and I saw Draven and Noemi kneeling at the bridge’s suspension ropes, sawing at the taut ropes.
Lark and I were almost there. Just a few more steps.
Lark let out a cry and dropped, taking me down with him. No, no… We were too close to fall now. I got my hands under me and glanced back.
Razak marched onto the bridge, his hand out, curled into talon-like fingers. Blood ran anew down his pale face. He brought his fingers in and beside me, Lark threw his head back, his mouth open in a silent scream.
“No!” I grabbed Lark’s arm and hauled him along behind me, scrabbling off the bridge. “You can’t have him!”
The invisible whip of Razak’s stolen power looped around my waist and squeezed. I struggled, caught, almost frozen rigid, and once more felt the strange sensation of some vital part of me being hooked out of my chest, taking my will, my passion, and my heart. It burned in a way no physical wound could.
“Lark, catch!” Draven yelled.
I was frozen, unable to move, trapped in hollowing agony, but I couldsee. Lark snatched Draven’s flying dagger out of the air, spun, and launched it across the bridge. It slammed into Razak’s chest with a heavy, terminating thump.
Razak jerked, took a step back, and his devastating hold on me collapsed.
I dropped, but Draven had me in his arms in the next moment. His deep voice rumbled something about me being too cold, but he seemed so far away. And I wasn’t really cold anymore…
“Cut it,” Lark yelled. “Cut it now!”
“You’re mine!” Razak bellowed. “I will come for you! I will take Arin’s precious heart and crush it in my hands. You hear me, Zayan!? I’M COMING FOR YOU!”
The ropes twanged, unraveled, then snapped, and the bridge swooped away, vanishing into the mist, taking Razak’s shocked, blood-streaked face with it.
I panted, propped up on an arm, and stared into the wall of white, expecting to see Razak loom out of it at any moment. But the world was quiet, except for my desperate heart trying to warm my veins. Snowflakes landed on my lashes.
“Is Razak dead?” Noemi asked.
She tried to wrap her cloak around me, but I shook my head. In Razak’s absence, the strangling ice had waned.
“We’re not that lucky,” Draven replied. “We have to find shelter, get warm.”
Lark flung his arms around me and hauled me into a hug. He trembled, like I did, and then his mouth was at my ear. “I thought I’d lost you, thought he’d taken you. I have you, Arin, I have you,” he said again and again, over and over, not just for me, but for himself too. I hadn’t felt fear inside the castle, not even when Razak had first attacked, or when he’d taken Danyal instead of me, but I felt it all now. Razak had almost torn us apart.
I hugged him as tight as my frozen muscles allowed. “I’m all right.”
He desperately stroked snow from my face. “Are you? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I think so. I will be.” But was he? His lashes were damp with melted snow or tears. He mustered a smile, but he was hurting.
