“There is hope, my friend.”
Amund shifted, and Garrin helped him roll over.
There was no way Amund could rise, so Garrin sat him upright then slung the burly Fae over his shoulder.
He used his powers to reinforce the ice ledges, including the section that had cracked, and extended them farther than he’d originally dared. He wouldn’t build a bridge and risk complete failure, but if he was quick, two ice ledges and a strong leap should give him enough momentum to make it across with Amund on his back.
Garrin was more tired than he’d been in his life, but the jolt of power he’d drawn from Lex was more than he’d dared hope for. He didn’t understand how he could draw from her ability to charge his powers, but he’d wonder about that after he’d gotten Lex to safety.
He secured Amund more squarely on his shoulder and took off toward the edge of the ravine at a run. He planted his snow boot on the ice ledge and leapt.
His toe had just made it over the ice ledge on the opposite side when Amund slipped from his grasp and went tumbling into the snow.
Garrin rushed over and knelt beside the soldier. “Are you all right?”
Amund nodded, his breathing labored.
Garrin lifted Amund and brought him to where the others stood with Lex. “Amund cannot walk.”
Isle’s mouth compressed. “Unless you plan to get my daughter out of here using a snowstorm, let us hope Amund’s abilities are more useful.”
Isle was definitely related to Lex. No one spoke to Garrin with such fearlessness. “Amund is a portal creator—when he is healthy. And when Zirel is strong enough, he can heal others.”
“Zirel first, then,” Isle said, rubbing Lex’s gloved hand as though to warm it, while her own body shook from the cold. “You’ve left my daughter on the brink of death, Dark Prince.” She glared. “For which you will pay.”
Garrin didn’t fear Isle’s wrath. He feared losing Lex. And not because his people needed her. He cared about her. If something happened to Lex, Garrin wasn’t sure he could forgive himself.
He gestured for Zirel to move closer to Lex.
Isle instructed Zirel on how to regain his abilities, and like Garrin, the Fae faltered at first. But not for long. After a couple of attempts, Zirel straightened, his face flush with power.
Zirel leaned over Lex and placed his hands on her temples, above her heart, and lastly, he ran them down her arms and legs, exchanging the power she’d given him to heal her.
Lex’s skin went from pale blue to just pale. Finally, her eyes opened.
“Zirel?” she said. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
The rush of relief that filled Garrin was like nothing he’d experienced. If he’d lost her, he didn’t think he could bear it.
He moved to her side. “How do you feel?”
She shifted slightly. “Like I could sleep for a month.” She raised her hand and delicately touched his cheekbone with the tips of her gloved fingers. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.” And then she peered past Garrin. “M-Mom?” She shook her head and her eyes watered. “What…? Am I dead? What’s going on?”
A wash of guilt ran through him. “You are not dead.”
She blinked several times. “Am I hallucinating?”
“No, darling.” Isle moved closer and gripped her daughter’s hands, smiling. “I am here. I’m sorry for not warning you about what was to come. Had I known I’d be trapped in ice for so long… Well, I would have come up with a different plan.”
Lex went to hug her mother, and sank back, her eyes crossing. “I’m dizzy.”
Isle pulled Lex closer and wrapped her arms around her protectively. “There, there. All will be well.”
Zirel tugged a shirt that he’d rescued from the knotted rope over his head. It was torn in several places, but the Fae fabric would help to keep him warm. “Lex is weak. She may need to be carried the rest of the way.”
“But she will live,” Garrin said, needing to hear the words.
Lex’s eyes went wide. “Live? What the hell?”
