Page 47 of A Shard of Ice

Damon gives a quick shake of the head. “I’m fine. I swear it. Think back on the times I hurt myself at the mines. Think about how quickly I healed then, too. It’ll be even quicker now that I’m a fae again. Without the spell hampering my healing abilities.”

“It’s true; you were always a quick healer.” I smile through my tears. “Remember that time you hurt your arm?”

He nods. “Yes, that prick Hali pushed me. He kicked me a few times while I was on the ground. With the others watching, I couldn’t do anything. I just had to take it.” His eyes blaze.

“I hated him so much.” When I think back, most of our guards weren’t too bad. I guess they were just doing their jobs. There were one or two who were cruel. Hali was one of them. “I thought it might be broken, but within a few days, you were right as rain.”

“Actually, in hindsight, I think it was broken. I healed quickly, so we decided that it couldn’t have been. And that time I got cut on the leg.” He looks down at his right thigh.

“Oh yes, on that jagged piece of salt.” My eyes widen. “I fell, and you caught me, taking the fall yourself.” I had forgotten about that. “It was really bad, but you don’t even have so much as a scar to show for it.”

“Exactly.”

“What did he say to you?” I look around us. “The general,” I whisper.

“He mostly asked questions about where we came from. Who we are. That kind of thing.”

“What did you tell him?”

He shrugs. “The truth.”

My eyes widen.

“It’s okay. We’re going to get out of this.” He looks left and right without moving his head. “Please, trust me.” His eyes bore into mine. “Please, Kyrie. I’m still me…I swear. I know I look different. I know my name has changed and my history alongwith it but I’m still the same person deep down inside, the person who caught you when you fell, who gave you my tokens. I swear it on my life. I need you to trust me. I know I keep saying it. I keep asking it of you, but now more than ever…you need to believe that I would never steer you wrong.”

I don’t hesitate. “I do. I trust you, Damon.”

The smile he gives me lights me up in ways that scare me. The shadowfae guards are right; the way we are looking at each other at this moment is not as friends would look at one another.

I hope that when he finally tells me whatever it is that he has been hiding that it won’t rip us apart again. I’m not sure whatever bond we have could survive it. Not again.

16

Damon

It’s been three days since the general spoke with me. Three long days, to be exact. I’m beginning to question if I can trust him.

Perhaps it was a ploy all along to keep me compliant and willing. It’s beginning to feel like it.

I must be seen taking you to the Ice Court…to her, but you will escape along the way. I will make sure of it.

His words keep playing over and over in my mind. He promised me more information on Snow. More on her dark magic, on how she’s controlling the fae. He hasn’t summoned me. Hasn’t so much as looked at me for three long days. Meanwhile, we are covering good ground every day.

The temperatures are dropping. The rain has turned to sleet. The landscape is more desolate than ever. The sky is murkier than ever, too. The mountains that lead to my home are before us. Soon, we will be in high country.

Cyrano is hunched over his horse; he looks like he might fall off at any moment. The large oilskin one of the fae gave him hangs on his frame. We had to leave the camels behindyesterday, as this is not suitable terrain for them. It’s just going to get worse the higher we climb. The sleet will turn to snow. Temperatures will soon plummet. I feel my blood start to quicken with magic. I feel my well start to fill with every raindrop that hits my face. It isn’t much, but it’s something.

Kyrie is somewhere up ahead. I hope she is warm and dry. They like to separate us during the day. We share a tent at night but are closely watched at all times. I can’t even take a piss without four guards accompanying me. It’s infuriating.

Cyrano is ever-present but has barely said two words since his whipping. If he wasn’t such a prick, I might be inclined to feel sorry for him. The way I see it, he brought it on himself. The silence has been welcome.

He can be thankful that the general went easy on him. There were only a few stripes of blood on his tunic. Still, he is suffering from the pain. He moans at night and winces whenever he moves too abruptly. We’re only three days’ ride away from the Ice Court. Unless the general calls for me tonight, I’m going to start plotting our escape. There is no other option. If we are taken to the Ice Court, all will be lost.

Aside from the horse’s hooves thudding on the ground and the odd snort, we ride in relative silence. A new volley of sleet starts to fall, but we forge on. Although I feel invigorated, my hands are freezing on the reins.

I try to catch a glimpse of Kyrie. I wish I could go check on her, but I know what will happen if I take so much as one step out of formation. I’ll have several spears aimed at my heart in a second. We ride on, steam rising from our horses’ flanks as temperatures drop further.

My hair starts to cling to my face.

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