Page 103 of A Shard of Ice

Before us are huge double doors. They’re taller than Grigor’s double-story homestead and wider than if several of his horses were to stand head to tail. I would say that it would take four, maybe even five, of the beasts to create such a width.

There are more ice-clad fae on each side of the doors. They have to push with all of their might to open them.

“Go inside, human,” the white-bearded fae instructs as soon as the doors are wide enough. “May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

Heart pounding, I walk forward, my head held high.

It’s the royal bedroom. It has to be. I’ve never seen anything more elaborate in all my life. My eyes are fixed on the figure staring out of an open window. I can only see her from behind, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that it is Snow. It’s the queen, and she’s sent for me.

35

Damon

Several hours earlier…

It has taken me a long time to get down the mountain. The alternate route was treacherous. I almost lost Ranger down the side of a cliff. Thankfully, Missy was able to drag him to safety. I came close to cutting the tether between the two animals. Luckily, it wasn’t necessary in the end.

It is by the grace of Kakara that we made it down relatively unscathed. Poor Ranger is limping slightly on his right fore, which is puffy on the fetlock joint.

It’s risky, but I have no choice but to go back to Grigor to swap horses. I can only hope that the searching groups of fae have either been and left or that they don’t come through this valley at all.

At least the snow cover is at a minimum at the base of the mountain. I should reach Grigor soon.

At the last moment, I decide to tie the horses to a nearby tree and go the rest of the way on foot. I need to take extraprecautions. After the beasts are secured, I make my way through the forest, careful not to make a sound.

As I approach Grigor’s homestead, I see figures moving around outside. There are more inside. My blood runs cold – fae guards. They must be. They are here for me. I move as far as I can toward the cabin and then duck behind a large snow-covered boulder, trying to gather my thoughts.

“Speak to us, old man,” one shouts. “We know they were here…four of them.”

“I sent them away,” he says, sounding frail. “I didn’t even get a proper look at them because I was hiding. Just like I hid from you.”

“You’re lying. The four newly finished bottles of wine on the table tell a different tale.”

“I’m old and don’t have much to live for. I drink sometimes…so what?” He laughs; the sound is cut short with a thud and an “oomph.” I think that one of the bastards punched poor Grigor in the stomach.

Grigor groans softly. “Why did you have to do that?”

“Because you are lying. We talked to the others in this hamlet, and many of them saw you meet with the four travelers.”

“It wasn’t me. They are mistaken.” Grigor sounds like he is in pain; his voice is strained.

I peek over the boulder. I need to get closer. I need to know how many there are. I need to help poor Grigor. He’s in this mess because of us…because of me.

I take a deep breath and run for a water trough, sliding behind it silently. It’s a better vantage point. From here, I can make out three of them. They are all armed and towering over the old man.

One of them reaches down and grabs Grigor by the front of his tunic, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. “You will tell uswhere they went,” the fae snarls, his grip tightening on Grigor’s shirt.

Grigor gasps for air, struggling against the fae’s hold. “I swear, I don’t know! They left. I didn’t see them or speak to them.”

The fae growls in frustration and tosses Grigor to the ground like a rag doll. The other guards surround him.

A fourth guard steps outside through the front door, and my blood runs cold. I know him. I recognize that face. I would know it anywhere.

“All the beds have been slept in,” he says, smirking. “They were here.”

Another of the guards pulls his sword. “It’s your last chance to talk. I don’t have time for this.” He looks down at Grigor’s prone form lying in a heap on the ground.

“Okay, okay. I’ll talk, I’ll talk. What was the question again?”

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