Page 50 of The King of Frost and Shadows

The tip of an arrow.

My finger stung, but I followed the neck to the smooth quiver. Securing the shoulder strap, I slowly pulled it around my shoulder. I had to go.

My head pounded, and nausea added itself to my ever-growing list of problems. I was running out of time.

With darkness engulfing me, I closed my eyes. There was no point in keeping them open. Each time I blinked, they throbbed worse.

I concentrated on moving my hands and feet forward. The gas was coming from behind me and blowing toward the platform. I needed to head back past the icy rock and the axe gauntlet … the very things I’d been trying to avoid.

Despite moving at a crawl, I felt like I’d run a fucking marathon. All I wanted was to wake up from this horrible nightmare and find myself back home.

The urge to lie down and never move again surged through me. Maybe that was the point of the gas—to see if we’d give up and die. But I’d never been a quitter, and I sure as hell wouldn’t start now with all these people eager for me to do just that.

My irritated eyes watered, tears dripping down my face.Any other time, I’d hate looking weak, but the tears would clear my eyes so if I did get out of the gas fog, I’d see the threats coming.

The fire ebbed slightly with each breath. I opened my eyes and saw the outlines of my hands.

My chest expanded with hope. The gas had thinned.

Keeping a steady pace so I didn’t tire out, I moved inch by inch, focusing on small tasks while my chest heaved. It hurt to breathe, but it also hurt when I held my breath. The pain was the same, so I chose the lesser evil and kept breathing, hoping like hell I would find a way out of this mess.

After what felt like hours, the gas thinned further, and I could make out the frozen rock on my right. I raised my head to look forward and saw the blue-haired man and the dusky-haired woman standing several feet ahead of me, with five others, facing the axe gauntlet.

Behind the group, the dark-green-haired man raised a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, readying for an attack, while the woman I suspected was his sister stood with her arrow nocked on her bow.

Two of the seven-member group were facing my direction, keeping an eye on the gas.

I’d be free of it soon if I kept moving, but I wasn’t sure that would be better. I’d be facing nine fae, any of whom could attack me, but at least I’d go out fighting and not die because I’d given up or was too scared to face the real threat.

I crawled toward the frozen rock, hoping they wouldn’t expect someone to willingly get close to the spikes protruding from it.

As the pain in my lungs lessened, I heard screams and the sounds of fighting. Blades clashed. More people hadgotten weapons and weren’t afraid to use them on each other.

Exhaustion crept into my bones. Confident I couldn’t handle a physical fight, I had to come up with another plan.

When the edges of the spikes brushed my arm, I realized I’d made it to the ice rock. I paused, trying to take slow breaths. Though my lungs still burned, at least they weren’t on fire.

Carefully, I gripped the tip of one spike and removed an arrow from the quiver. Using the sharp edge, I hit the spike, breaking it off in my hand. I continued to hammer more free, hoping to use them as weapons if needed. The ice froze my hand, but I ignored that pain and broke off ten more pieces. My wrist and hand cramped from the strain, but I focused on one spike at a time. I needed ammunition for the sling.

My lungs burned worse, causing me to blink and focus back on the world around me.

Shit. I gritted my teeth in frustration. I’d stayed too long in one spot, and the gas had thickened around me again. The handful of ice spikes would have to do; besides, I didn’t want to keep them in my hand too long because they’d start melting. Not only that, but the arrow tip had been destroyed.

I tossed the dull arrow on the ground and moved slowly again. I crawled another ten feet before the gas thinned. Only one man was watching the gas; the rest had vanished. I kept the thicker part of the gas to my back, following the fuzzy line of where it receded so that no one would risk coming up behind me.

The last thing I wanted to do was come out of the gas crawling, so I stood up slowly. My muscles screamed, and my body ached, but I straightened my shoulders. If anyonesaw that I was weak, they would be inclined to hit me hard and fast.

The man glanced at me, and his eyes locked with mine.

“The sunscorched—” he started. I placed one ice spike in the sling, but my hands moved slowly, and I dropped the rest as he finished, “—is still alive!”

He charged toward me, so I bent down to snatch up the ice spikes and stuffed them into my pants pockets. I didn’t have enough time to get the sling working before he reached me.

Fortunately, he didn’t have a weapon, which must have been why he’d alerted the others to my presence, and he ran full speed at me. I tried to pivot out of the way, but my legs moved too slowly, and he grabbed me and turned me so my back was pressed to his chest. His hands wrapped around my neck.

“The rumor is you enjoy inflicting pain on a man’s tender region, and I won’t make the mistake of giving you access,” he whispered into my ear and squeezed my neck tighter.

The prick was choking me. My heart quickened, and I let all my self-defense training kick in. I shifted my hips to the left and elbowed him in the side. Pain shot down my arm into my hand as if I’d hit a wall, telling me how strong this prick was.

---