Page 115 of A Frozen Pyre
The wind was the gentlest of winter breezes, the enormous trees and their canopies as tall as the gods themselves rubbing together in the night wind as they quieted themselves to listen. Even the forest wanted to hear about the guard who’d fallen in love with a princess. They wanted to know about the man who’d tasted sunshine and then smiled at the bitter medicineof his own folly. A man who understood that some lessons were beautiful to learn, and that even if Ophir would never love him in return, he wanted her to be safe, to be at peace, to be whole. He spoke of Caris, but only the good parts. He spoke of Ophir’s nightmares, but only of her moments upon waking, and the relief it had been to think there was no hope only to find that the night was darkest just before the dawn. And he spoke of watching her grow and become someone new, and how no matter where she went or who she was, she would always have a friend, and an ally, and someone who would cross the corners of the continent as many times as it took to make sure she was happy.
He didn’t know the exact moment Caleb’s spirit left to be with the All Mother, but he waited until daybreak to be sure that no, the tonics had not worked.
The soil was frozen at this time of the year, but if Harland’s strength was good for anything, it would be to spend the time, however long it might take, and ensure that Caleb was given a true and proper burial. For all he knew, the young man was the first to be buried in the Unclaimed Wilds. If his sacrifice was not in vain, perhaps he might be the last.
Harland packed only one tent as he prepared to leave that morning. The other would serve as a tombstone for a man who had set out to see the world.
***
One week ago
Red trunks the size of mountains surrounded her. Ophir hadn’t escaped the snow, but at least it fell in gentle, silent sheets now. There was nothing to hear this far north. Not a bird, not an animal, not a person—
A woman’s voice sliced through the silence. “Firi, stop!”
Ophir skidded to a halt. Her blood chilled as she turned to see Dwyn panting, arm outstretched as if willing her tofreeze in her steps. She’d scarcely had the time to soak in her surroundings as she’d stumbled through the door in the dead of the night and careened headlong into a solid wall. Except, it hadn’t been a wall. She’d stepped into a tree so broad around its base that she’d suspected she’d run into a building.
She’d burned the door and continued to run, though she didn’t know why.
She’d escaped. Her plan had been flawed, as was true of most of her plans. But she’d made it out. How had Dwyn found her?
Forty-Two
Fifteen Minutes Before Escaping to the Unclaimed Wilds
“What the fuck are you?”
Ophir panted within the belly of the ship moments before it was scheduled to set sail. Dwyn was still off on her fool’s errand fetching food, which meant she only had a few moments to do what needed to be done.
The companion she’d manifested to help her escape had not been what she’d envisioned when hoping to create something that would help her harness Tyr’s ability to step into the place between things. She gaped in horror at the monstrosity within the ship’s walls, and it stared right back at her, jaw hanging loosely on its hinges as if the bolts in its joints required tightening. She supposed she’d been trying to create something to help her fight, to help her flee,andto help her hide.
And her mind had come up with…this.
“How the hell are you supposed to help me become unseen?” Ophir asked. Part of her was astounded at how calm her voice sounded. She was inches from a creature so terrifying it belonged in the pits of hell or the furthest corners of nightmares, and yet she trusted that it would not hurt her. The things she made were hers to command. For once, shesaw it for what it was: a manifestation. Not just of her will or her want but her subconsciousness brought into the world in a true and tangible way.
It was dark, and broken, and twisted, because it reflected its maker.
The warped, man-like beast lifted a talon and drew a cut on its grayish-white skin. The blood that dribbled from it was nothing short of abhorrent. It was the same thick, tar-like liquid she’d seen in her other creatures, the same darkness that puddled in her own veins. Except she was the monarch to a kingdom, one with pink cheeks and golden eyes and who people often said smelled and tasted of sunlight. At least her creations didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t.
She didn’t flinch from the beast as it brought its broken skin to her own and pressed itself upon her. When it pulled away, she saw…nothing.
She blinked at the open space in her forearm, then back up at the beast. She nearly choked on her question. “That’s how you help me with the place between things?”
It was not an intelligent creature and had nothing to say.
Ophir’s eyes darted about the room until they landed on a blanket draped over the barrels of foodstuff to keep dust and elements from spoiling the vegetables. She yanked the blanket clean from where it had rested and spread it on the ground. “Okay,” she said to the monster, “open up.”
While she remained wholly visible, save for the voided splotch on her arm, her blanket was saturated in the dark goo that disappeared on impact until there was nothing left.
She asked the beast to create a distraction so she might escape, and it did exactly that.
Draining a crewmember so that she could convince the nearest man that she’d died on the ice was a bit of a rushed afterthought. It certainly wouldn’t convince Dwyn, but it would at least create the cover story she needed for the kingdom. And if she worked quickly, she’d be in the farthest reaches of the continent before Dwyn even realized she was gone.
The bubbling of screams, shouts, and grieving seemed like evidence that her plan was working. She made it down and off the ship without being detected. The ship was in total upheaval as her beast ran amok. She nearly slipped on the ice as she stretched her hand out for the creation of a door. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to go, except that she asked the door to take her somewhere no one would find her.
When it went up in flames, she discarded the horrendous, sulfuric blanket and stumbled forward in the dark and the snow. She summoned a ball of flame to act as her own personal sun as it cast daylight over the forest of giants. The shadows it created were nearly as ominous as the indescribably large trees themselves. Each step into the snow was new and bizarre and terrifying, yet exhilarating and freeing at the same time.
She wasn’t sure why she continued walking.
