“Okay.” I nod, my gaze drifting over the group. The other fae stand tall and still, their posture reminding me of my own companions, poised and alert, yet as rooted as trees in a winter forest.
“Are you the chief’s daughters?” I inquire, curiosity getting the better of me.
Iridessa and Onora both blink in surprise, their perfect composure slipping for just a moment. At once, the other fae move, stepping protectively in front of the sisters, hands poised on their bows, and spears raised slightly. I hold up my hands in apology.
“Oh, sorry! I was just asking. It seems like you’re in charge.”
Raiden’s arm sweeps out in front of me in a protective arc, his powerful form pulling me back. He casts me a look, one that’s part warning, part exasperation.
“The queen would not harm you,” he urges, looking back at the group of Skythari Nomads. “She is not like that. She is kind, and she values the strength of allies.”
“I wouldn’t let any harm come to you,” I agree, my eyes meeting Iridessa’s and Onora’s in turn. Raiden and Valric inch closer to me, the heat of their bodies pressing in around me.
Onora’s icy-blue eyes soften, and she gives a slight nod. “We know this. We heard what you said before the ogres attacked.” Her gaze flickers toward the fae guards in front of her, and she offers a small, wry smile. “They are just like your companions. Overprotective.”
A smile tugs at my lips, and she mirrors my expression. There’s a warmth in her smile that feels like the first touch of sunlight after a cold winter, subtle yet sincere. In this moment, the air between us shifts, a quiet understanding passing that feels like the beginnings of friendship.
Chapter sixty-one
Everly
We follow the nomads on foot, leading our horses by the reins. Riding feels rude and out of place when they are walking. The silence between us is thick, filled with a cautious tension that hangs in the cold air. Everyone remains on high alert, their gazes flicking back and forth, every muscle taut and ready.
Only a few of us seem at ease—Iridessa, Onora, the wolves, and, surprisingly, me. Iridessa and Onora walk with quiet confidence. They all do, their movements light and effortless through the snow. Even their feet do not sink into the snow like ours. Anika and Nymeria pad along at my side, tails low but relaxed, their heads turning occasionally to meet my gaze, as if reassuring me they’re watching over us all.
I cast a sideways glance at Iridessa, and she catches my eye, giving a small, reassuring smile.
“Your wolves are beautiful,” she observes softly.
“They are. I rescued them when they were pups, and they never left my side. It pains me to think they were alone for so long when I was sent to the human realm.”
Both wolves press in on each side, and warmth floods our unique bond.
“I could only imagine what it was like being sent away. One day, I would love to hear your story, but for now, we are here.”
I frown, confused. There is nothing in front of us but the snowy valley. I can’t even see any trees.
Iridessa waves her arm in the air in a fluid motion, and suddenly, the white markings that lace her skin blaze to life with a powerful, ethereal glow. The light sweeps outward, washing over the landscape with a pale brilliance that seems to seep into every corner of the world around us. I stop in my tracks so abruptly that Zaria bumps into me. She stumbles back, catching herself, and we both gasp as the snowy, barren landscape that stretched endlessly before us just moments ago begins to shift and ripple.
In an instant, the wilderness transforms, as though a veil has been lifted. Huts materialize, nestled beneath icy boughs, their chimneys whispering smoke into the cold, crisp air. A market comes into view with vibrant stalls overflowing with strange goods, their canopies fluttering softly in the winter winds. The fabrics, woven in colors that seem almost too vivid for this snowy mountain range, sway like soft mirages, inviting us into this hidden realm.
“Oh, wow,” I murmur, barely able to believe my eyes.
“Yeah . . . ” Zaria breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. I glance at her and catch the same mixture of awe and disbelief mirrored in her eyes.
Before we can take it all in, Iridessa’s voice slices through the wonder with a tone as cold and unyielding as the snow beneath our feet. “You may keep your weapons,” she instructs, her gaze sweeping over us with a quiet but unmistakable intensity. “But if you raise them against us, you will be killed on the spot.”
I see Raiden stiffen out of the corner of my eye, but I step forward and smile, giving a slight bow of my head. “You won’t have any trouble from us.”
Iridessa dips her head and her shoulders relax. “Come. My father isn’t a patient man.”
The fae villagers stop what they’re doing, their movements freezing mid-action as they turn to stare at us. Their expressions range from open-mouthed shock to narrow-eyed distrust, the tension thickening as more and more eyes fall upon us.
Each fae here shares the same striking coloring: icy-blue skin that seems to shimmer faintly in the cold light, hair so white it almost blends with the snow, and piercing blue eyes that glimmer like shards of glass. They are beautiful in an otherworldly way, like living statues carved from ice, each one uniquely crafted but unmistakably bound by a common essence.
Beside me, Zaria shifts closer, her arm hooking in mine.
Finally, we come to a stop in front of a large structure that stands apart from the others, rising imposingly against the snowy backdrop. It’s a curious blend of styles: part ancient hut, part conical tent, with a peaked roof that stretches upward in an elegant taper.
