Page 67 of Golden Star

“You can relish at the other side of the bridge,” she says. “Or, better yet, when we’re home.”

“Fair,” I say, and I continue working my magic, until all four boots are transformed into cleats.

The temperature outside is so cold that the little ice spikesstayfrozen.

At least the winter weather is good for something other than trying to give us hypothermia.

Now armed with our makeshift trekking boots, Zoey and I head to the start of the bridge, staring down the slick, snowy path ahead. It’s not wide enough for us to cross side by side, so one of us will have to go behind the other. And its handrails look far from reliable.

I glance over my shoulder to look at Riven.

His eyes are narrowed with something unreadable. Maybe curiosity, maybe impatience, or maybe even boredom.

Ihatehow impossible he is to read. I like to think I’m decent at reading most people—it comes with the territory of working at a bar—but Riven’s a constant mystery.

The blond knight next to him stares straight ahead, refusing to look at me or Zoey.

The only other one around here who seems slightly interested in our survival is Ghost.

Zoey nudges my arm, snapping me back to the treacherous path ahead. “You ready?” she asks.

No.

“Let’s see what these boots can do,” I say instead, not wanting Riven and the guards to think I’m weak.

She nods—she totally knows I phrased it that way because I didn’t want to lie and say I was ready—then studies the bridge again.

“Want me to go first?” she asks.

Do I?

The person who goes first will be responsible for testing each plank to make sure it’ll hold. It’ll require bravery—a quality Zoey’s always had.

The person who goes second will be watching out for the one ahead. Making sure they don’t fall.

If I’m in front of Zoey, I’ll spend more time focusing on looking back to make sure she’s okay than on stayingaware of what’s happening ahead. And I need to be ready to use my magic at a moment’s notice—to protect both of us.

It’ll be harder to protect her if I can’t see her.

“That seems like the smartest move,” I decide.

“Just keep close,” she says. “If anything feels off, tell me. Okay?”

“Will do.” I nod, trying to match her courage, even though my stomach is twisting in knots.

She steps onto the bridge, and I hold my breath, spotting her, ready to pull her back onto solid land if she starts to slip.

The bridge creaks under her weight.

She doesn’t slip.

Instead, I hear a crunch as the ice spikes on her boots dig into the packed snow.

“See?” She manages a small smile back at me, then takes another step.

Again, the spikes grip the snow.

“It’s working,” I say softly, as if speaking too loudly will somehow make the magic disappear.

---