“You don’t really mean that.” Varian shook his head, but not before I caught a glimpse of a sheepish grin. “Besides, I know you, Lyrae. You’d just feel guilty for the rest of your life if he got eaten by Grimbeasts.”
“Doubtful,” I huffed, but he was probably right. “Well, hurry, I…I don’t like this. At all. I mean, I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
Which was an understatement.
Growing up in the slums of a walled city meant water was something contained in cups and water troughs, not vast, endless lakes. I’d never learned how to swim, never been in anything bigger than a bathtub.
Drowning…drowning was not on my top ten list of ways to die.
I preferred dying on solid ground, with a sword in my hand.
“Back in a flash. Don’t go anywhere.” Var winked, then was gone, leaving me standing there with frozen feet and a terrible suspicion growing stronger by the minute.
They’d been to this island before.
They knew too much about this placenotto have been here, and I’d been a fool not to consider that possibility before right now, given the lack of surprise when I’d revealed this place’s existence to Varian after the tavern.
But I had worse things to worry about.
I squinted across the sheet of frozen ice, watching a horde of dark, fast-moving forms pour down the incline toward the edge of the lake—ten, twenty…thirty hungry Grimbeasts. I shivered at the numbers, at how quickly they moved, praying Varian was right and they stayed on solid ground.
Varian and Ryland popped back into sight, and a host of barbed accusations were dancing at the tip of my tongue when the ice beneath us gave a horrendous crack.
Don’t look down, don’t look down…
I looked down at the spiderweb of deep cracks running outwards from beneath our feet, trying to untangle myself from the horror that was holding my body captive.
“Don’t move,” Ryland warned, his hand darting out to grasp my own. Unlike this morning, I let his fingers curl tightly around mine, was grateful for the warmth of his palm grounding me. “With all three packs, there’s too much weight.” His questioning glance flicked to me.
“I suppose you can’t just ditch yours, can you?”
“Given I have all my extra weapons in here, no. Not unless you can guarantee we won’t run into any more trouble.” I held myself perfectly still, heart hammering out of my chest as the ice crackled and split beneath us, a thousand tiny, heart-rending creaks, any of which could be the last thing I ever heard.
Gods, please don’t let me die here, not like this.
“Slide your feet across the surface. Slow and steady. Keep a hold of my hand. Don’t let go.” Ryland’s deep voice had never sounded so serious, and I swallowed down my fear, inching my dusty boot across the slick surface, wincing as the thick ice splintered like a mirror, spiderwebbing in all directions.
For the next few minutes that’s all we did.
Slide, breathe, stop.
See if the ice would hold. Thank all the gods for their mercy.
Repeat.
But every stolen glance over my shoulder told me—we were screwed.
Because of the bright red trail of blood Ryland left behind, and because the horde of starving Grimbeasts prowling along the shore, their eyes glowing with hunger, were starting to venture out onto the edge of the ice.
“Don’t look back,” Varian warned, so close his heated breath skated across the back of my neck. “The hounds are thinking about joining us. If they do, we’re fucked.”
“I could have done without that piece of information,” Ryland groaned, his hand tightening around mine, eyes glimmering softly beneath the rising moon.
“Me, too.” Gods, why wasn’t that far-off shore getting any closer?
“Just trying to keep everyone up to date,” Varian said tartly. “We might have to run, and it’s always better to be prepared.”
“We’ll never outrun them, not here.” My free hand drifted to my knife, trying to focus on staying upright, not the fear hammering away in my chest. “Their claws will give them the advantage on this surface, but with all that weight…”
