Page 46 of Horn of Winter

And only because he’d run in and saved my ass. Still, I wasn’t about to admit that I was every bit as worried as him about survival, if only because that would make him worry even more.

“I’ve a hot date tonight, so you can be sure I’m not about to let any damn explosion make me miss it.”

Though even as I said that, I couldn’t help but wish that it was Cynwrig I was meeting. Cynwrig I’d be falling into bed with. Cynwrig’s arms that would wrap around me as we fell into blissful slumber.

Of course, itwaspossible that Icouldhave all that if I dared to take what the bracelet offered, but was I just...

Scared, I guess. Scared of risking a possible long-term relationship for short-term gratification.

Darby touched my arm lightly, perhaps sensing the inner turmoil. I smiled, and though she no doubt saw the tension running through it, she didn’t say anything. She just turned and followed Sgott back to the trees. I drew in a deeper breath to fortify my nerves, then, after tightening my grip on the knivesjust a fraction, strode determinately toward the black blot of a building.

As tempting as it was to head for one of the windows, where the ice was much thinner, the true heart of the attack seemed to be the vast ice sheet covering the main entrance into the building. Though it was impossible to see doorways or glass through the thick bluish gleam of the ice, fat icicle fingers spread out from this main clump, moving across the portico’s internal roofline far faster than they were on the rest of the building.

I stopped at the bottom of the three steps that led up into the portico, my gaze sweeping the gleaming black stone floor. Though ice clawed across it, a clear path remained. I had no desire for any of it to touch me—if it could freeze and utterly demolish a building, then it likely could do the same to flesh if given half the chance. Just because Kaitlyn’s condition had been caused more by the chill that came with the ice rather than it actually capturing and encasing her didn’t mean they wouldn’t attempt such a maneuver with me—especially now he or she knew exactly what I could do.

I raised my gaze to the bluish wall directly ahead, then gathered several strings of the gently stirring wind and spun them all around me, resulting in a whirling barrier few would see, but one that would hopefully afford some protection if I stuck my knives into the ice and exploded the whole damn building again.

I forced my feet up the steps and across the black stone, carefully skirting around the few icy fingers that crossed my path. They didn’t chase after me, but I had this weird feeling the person behind this attack was suddenly aware of my presence.

A feeling that was all but confirmed when the activity of the ice above jumped into another gear, and the fat fingers running across the roofline motored over the concealed gutters and disappeared up onto the roof. I had no idea what the witchintended, but I suspected I had better act now, before all the fingers reaching up the sides of the building met with those on the roof.

The chill radiating off the thick block of ice was nowhere near as strong as it had been at Kaitlyn’s, but it was still cold enough for my nose and fingers to tingle. I scanned the width of the wall, looking for the best spot to attack, but there didn’t appear to be any obvious weak spots. With a half shrug, I raised both knives, drove them into the ice, then released them and stepped back.

As at Kaitlyn’s, nothing happened for several seconds. Then the knives pulsed, and thunder rumbled in response, despite the fact the storm remained a good few hours away. These knives were definitely drawing on my connection with the weather to enhance their own power. Beirahadsaid that no one truly understood how my genetics would combine with the triune and what might come of it, so was this recent ability of the knives to connect with the storms—seemingly without any input from me—an example of that? They’d always been basically autonomous when it came to protecting me from spells, but I’d always presumed it was a protection that extended to all the women in my line who’d used them. I actually had no idea if that were true because, like so many other things, Mom never mentioned it.

The knives pulsed again, and the sky responded, the sharp crack of thunder loud enough to make me wince. A second crack followed a heartbeat later, one that came from the ice rather than the sky. A fissure had formed in the ice directly above me and quickly became a spider web of cracks that spread rapidly across the ice covering the portico’s roof. Large slabs began to fall, shattering as they hit the black stone, sending deadly spears of gleaming ice spinning in all directions. I hastily ramped up the vortex surrounding me, and not a moment too soon; the gleaming spears aimed at my heart were neatly spun back into the portico’s vastness.

More chunks of ice slammed down, thick enough to kill. The stone under my feet vibrated with each blow and the heat radiating from the blades increased. The roof above me quickly cleared of ice, and though I couldn’t physically see the rest of the building, both the rumbling thunder overhead and the wind that spun around and over it told me it was now also free. Which just left this wall.

As the burning power focused solely on it, the ice witch attacked.

It was something I felt more than saw—a sudden chill in the stone under my boots—but through it, I could feel her power and presence. My second sight flared to life, and a vision rose—a woman huddled in front of a laptop that showed what looked to be multiple street views. Her hair was short and spiky, glittering silver in the pale shafts of light streaming in from the window behind her, her skin pale and wrinkled, and her long face drawn. Emaciated almost. Around her neck was a simple leather cord attached to a drinking horn—one that she gripped with her left hand, from which a constant stream of icy particles dripped. They never hit the floor; instead, they spun away into the ether, no doubt heading for this building.

I frowned and tried widening the scope of the vision fractionally. There was movement around her, voices and conversations, a continuous wave that suggested she was somewhere public. If shewas, then there had to be some sort of protective or concealment magic happening alongside the main spell, because surely someone would have noticed the relic if not the ice. As the vision began to fade, I caught sight of a familiar sign.

She was sitting at my favorite burger joint down at the river, not far from the boat hire place, no doubt using their free WIFI.

The vision slipped away completely, and awareness returned. Frost now crept over the toes of my boots and up the heel. I couldn’t allow it to touch my skin. Dared not.

I swore and spun myself away from the portico, using the air surrounding me like an overly large if unseen beachball. I bounced down the steps and rolled across the grass, the world spinning around me. It was so disorientating that I briefly lost control and crashed into the branches of a lovely young oak. As the air bubble began to dissipate, I slithered gently down to the ground, the tree’s song filled with confusion over the brief but thankfully harmless impact. As the remaining slivers of wind slipped away, I scrambled upright, my gaze on the black building. Ice continued to fall in chunks, but there was only one section remaining now, and it was off to the right of the entrance. I could no longer feel the witch’s presence; perhaps she’d simply given up the fight once I’d bounced away from her attack. Or perhaps that attack had taken the last of her strength.

“Bethany? You okay?” Sgott asked, his voice sharp with concern.

My gaze snapped around. He and Darby were running toward me. “Yeah, fine, but I know where the witch is—she’s at Two Chicks and a Patty near the boat hire dock. She’s tall, thin, mid-fifties at a guess, and has short, spiky silver hair.”

Sgott immediately got onto his phone, though I had serious doubts even a bird shifter would get there in time to stop her escape. Darby stopped a couple of feet in front of me, her narrowed gaze sweeping me critically. Then she caught my hand, holding it firm as her healer energy flooded through me, scanning for any internal damage.

After a few seconds, she let me go, her expression relieved. “You’ve little more than a few scratches and some impending bruising, which is pretty close to a miracle given the speed youcame tumbling away from that building. Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

I smiled. “I had a bubble of air around me. I wasn’t in any danger of being hurt.”

“The bruising threatening to develop down your spine counters that comment to some extent. I did take care of them, by the way. Can’t have an achy back getting in the way of good sex now, can we?”

“We definitely cannot.”

“Okay,” Sgott said as he stopped beside Darby. “We’ve two teams, a witch, and a shifter on the way to Two Chicks. If she’s still in there, we’ll get her. But at least now we have a description to work with.”

Which wouldn’t do much good if she wasn’t the brains behind these attacks, but simply another employee. To be honest, if Keeryn was anywhere near as proficient at creating concealment spells as Maran had been, how could I even be sure that what I’d seen in the vision was the witch’s real form and not a concealment? Especially given my second sight had already proven unable to see past such spells?

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