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“Agreed,” Grae said, giving the pair one last stern look. “Keep a low profile and stay out of trouble. We’ll be back by sunset.”
“Aye, aye captain.” Sadie gave a mock bow.
“Insufferable fools,” Grae muttered, pushing out the doorway.
“You picked them to be your personal guard,” I pointed out, following him out the doorway.
“That’s because I’m a fool, too.”
Twenty-One
Our boots crunched through the ice-crusted snow. I panted whorls of steam as each footstep squeaked beneath my feet. We walked in stilted silence, climbing toward the crater high above us. My lungs burned in the thin Taigosi air, my brow slicked with sweat.
“Nearly there,” Grae breathed as he climbed toward the ridge. “Do you remember the story I told you about Herren’s last wish, little fox?”
“Why? Are we going to freeze to death?” I clenched my jaw, bracing against another gust of wind. Was it possible for eyelashes to freeze?
He grinned. “So you do remember.”
“Of course I do, it was a good story.” I wheezed. “Herren’s family was trapped up a mountain, attacked by ebarvens and freezing to death. A faery appeared to grant his last wish. He wished that his family stay warm until help arrived.”
“The faery cleaved the mountain in two, drilling into its hot core.” Grae carried on the story, just as he had when we were young. “And Herren’s family survived in the hot springs, keeping warm and hiding from the ebarvens until aid came.”
I glanced back at the town of Hengreave. We’d climbed so far from the village that it was only a dot in a sea of white. “Theybuilt a town at the base of the mountain, believing the land was blessed.”
Grae stumbled the last few slippery steps up to the peak. “And the waters are still believed to be magical, even to this day.”
I gasped when I saw the turquoise water come into view. Steam curled from the lake and a faint sulphuric scent wafted in the air.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, staring at the rivulets of ice that melted into the lake at the center. Giant icicles dripped down from hollow caverns like the teeth of a frozen beast.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Grae murmured.
I tore my eyes away from the sweeping vista and found Grae staring at me. Wisps of his hair whipped across his forehead. His cheeks and nose were wind-chapped, his lips parted.
My eyes widened, the memory flooding back to me all at once. “This is it, the place from your stories?” His cheeks dimpled and I gazed back out at the steaming lake, remembering the stories he told me when we were pups. He’d told me about how he’d run in the fresh powder and swum in the hot pools—that it felt like another world and...
“You promised to bring me here one day.”
“I did.” His gaze lingered on my face. “I didn’t think it would be like this, though.”
I shifted my feet, uncomfortable under his stare. Like this—with me being wary, distrustful of him, without the easy joy and laughter that used to be what our friendship was built of. That tension still hung between us, and I knew at some point, somehow, it would all come to a head.
“Come on,” he said, staving off that moment while trudging down the side of the crater. “We’ll change in the caves.”
Hengreave disappeared as we dipped below the lip of the crater. I followed Grae toward a curling tunnel of ice. It looked as if one mighty ocean wave had smashed over the side of the crater, frozen in motion. Such a bizarre structure—a long, hollowed-outcavern at the center of the spiral. Grae trudged into the tapered passage. The room seemed made of glass with dripping icicles of the palest blue. The image of the crater twisted and distorted as I stared through the translucent ice and our footsteps echoed across the bright space.
I ducked into an alcove to change, putting a wall of ice between Grae and me. The walls flowed in waves of beautiful crystal as if they melted and froze and melted again, hundreds of times. I traced my finger over the cold ripples, lost in this other world.
Grae’s movement to my right made me turn my head, and what I saw made the ice burn beneath my fingers. His image was so warped I could hardly make out his shape, but instead of charcoal clothes, I saw only his golden brown skin. He reached to the knot of hair on his head and untied it, black now cascading down to his shoulders. He turned away from me, facing the opposite wall, in what I assumed was an act of modesty for me.
“Are you getting changed, little fox?” he asked.
I hastily unclipped the latch of my cloak and let it pool around my feet. “Yes.”
“Or am I distracting you?” I could tell by his infuriatingly attractive voice that he was smiling.
“No, nope,” I said, whipping my tunic over my head and unbuttoning my trousers.
