Page 86 of A Shard of Ice

“I will.” Damon sounds a little choked up.

“I’m going inside now,” Grigor says. “Good luck to you all.” He comes over to me. “You are most welcome to come and stay at any time.” He clasps my hands in his. Damon asked earlier if it would be okay if I came to stay at some point in the future, and Grigor heartily agreed. “That goes for any of you folks. Any time, and I mean that. The company would be most welcome.”

“Stay safe,” I tell him.

We watch Grigor walk away. Xander thought it might be better if he didn’t see which direction we took. You can’t divulge information if you don’t have it.

“He knows you’re the icefae king,” Thesha says to Damon.

“I’m quite sure he does.” Damon nods.

“This is it, then,” Thesha says to me. “You’re really going to stay at the Ice Court?”

I nod.

“We can’t change your mind?” Xander asks, glancing at Damon like he knows he had a big hand in the decision.

“No. I’m afraid not,” I all but whisper.

“Are you certain that the Ice Court is the safest place for Kyrie?” Thesha asks Damon.

“I’m not sure of anything. There were people there I trust with everything.” He takes my hand as he says it, glancing at me, his gaze softening.

“So, this is goodbye.” Thesha steps forward, and we hug.

I hug Xander, too. “Take care of him,” I tell him.

“I will.”

Damon says his goodbyes as well. He’s joining Xander, Thesha, and the beastfae king Orion and his wife as soon as he drops me off. I don’t know where exactly. We figured the less I know about these matters, the better.

After saying our goodbyes, we mount up. Thesha and Xander head in the opposite direction to us.

Our horses start walking away. I turn in the saddle, watching them go for a few seconds before facing forward.

“We’ll give the horses a few minutes to warm up, and then we need to ride.”

I nod, looking down at the leather gloves on my hands. They’re fur-lined and very warm. Another of Isolde’s things that Grigor insisted I take. I am grateful.

“It’ll be much slower going when it gets steep and slippery with ice and snow,” Damon says.

From here, the mountain looks impossible to navigate. I look up, seeing the white of the snow. “It looks treacherous.”

“Like Grigor said, these horses are surefooted. They’ll get us there. There are several well-known paths up the mountain, and one that is rarely used at all because hardly anyone knows about it. It’ll take us to the secret entrance into the Ice Court and into the heart of the castle. You need to memorize our route, Kyrie. You’ll need to use it to get back to Grigor when the time comes. Make sure you take note of markers along the way.”

“Yes, I will.”

The air is cold. I’m grateful for the layers of clothing and lined fur boots that Grigor insisted I take, along with a fur vest,which I am wearing beneath my woolen chemise and oilskin coat.

Damon is just as layered. We’re ready to tackle the mountain that will take us to the Ice Court.

All too soon, we kick our horses into an easy lope that covers the soft ground. The landscape starts off fairly desolate, with many dead trees, but that quickly changes. The further we get, the greener and more vibrant the trees and scrubs look. There is more than one species of pine. The terrain grows steeper, and the air colder and thinner as we ascend, but the horses seem undeterred. They move sure-footedly over the rocky terrain, their hooves barely making a sound on the ground, which is now dotted with patches of snow.

Overhead, the clouds begin to gather, casting a shadow over the landscape and adding to the chill in the air. But we press on, determined to reach our destination.

I pull my hood over my head as the snow begins to fall. We slow to a gentle jog as we follow on a narrow path that leads up the mountain.

The trees become sparser, and soon we are climbing over rocks and navigating through steep inclines. But our horses are sturdy and strong, carrying us effortlessly upwards with each stride.

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