* * *
Penelope’s wings tucked tight against her flanks, landing smoothly before the ice crest. She shook her red and black mane, settling the hair down from the flight, and stepped closer to the ice when I prodded her with my legs. Her head tipped up to stare at what held my attention.
I bit my bottom lip hard in dread, my fangs pooling two tiny drops of blood on my tender flesh. I stared high into the sky where the ice led, unable to even see the top.
I muttered, “How in the Fairy does he think we can climb this?”
My Fae-gift shook her head, in utter agreement that scaling this treacherous ice would be thoroughly unwise.
I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and pulled it back from my face, tugging brutally in my anxiety—tension built in my shoulders, my neck cramping with stiffness. I tried to clear my thoughts, to be able to think straight, possibly create a better plan that wouldn’t end in our inevitable deaths—or fail the realm.
Minutes passed while I considered different ideas.
None of them feasible in the end.
We would never find the artifact with only two short days to search if we walked on foot to Trumbalay, and we would surely perish if we attempted the perilous feat of ascending this death ice.
There was absolutely no right answer. We would fail our realm. The rulers and I would not be able to save our kingdoms with the two options available to us.
Trepidation filled me, my abdomen cramping with worry, nausea burning at the back of my throat. I grimaced and swallowed hard before I vomited onto the snow-covered ground. I breathed evenly, in and out through my mouth, calming my shaken nerves to a more manageable level so that I could concentrate.
I rubbed at my forehead, much like my father does his. This situation was impossible to resolve alone. I needed to speak with Father about it. Had King Traevon even seen this ice before?
I threaded my fingers through my Fae-gift’s mane, gripping tightly, shivering from the chilly wind. “Let us leave this place, my beautiful girl. We must fly home with all due haste. I need to speak to my father.”
Penelope raced across the snow on her blood-red hooves, her red and black wings opening wide, brazenly vibrant alongside the white crystalline glacier. She firmly beat her wings in the air until we were flying up over the snow-covered field below us. Higher and higher, she climbed, taking us closer to the city of Trumbalay.
With my fingers entwined in her mane, I shook her head brusquely. “Do not fly over the city, Penelope. I told you that before.” And she had behaved before, too.
Why was she not now? She had been doing so well.
My stubborn Fae-gift cast a glare at me over her shoulder, her wings still taking us higher. Her fiery gaze skimmed forward again, watching her progress, not deviating from her course.
I stared in confusion—the peak of the mountain nearing—until I realized my blunder. I spoke in a frantic rush, “It is all right. We can go around the mountain. It will not take us much longer to fly home.” I had told her to make haste—and my blasted Fae-gift was heeding my earlier words, apparently wanting to leave this place as quickly as I did.
Penelope huffed, shaking her head hard.
Oh my Fae. “Penelope, do as I say now!”
My Fae-gift’s muscles tightened under my legs at my harshly delivered order, and she quieted for a moment before her wings tilted and curved our direction to the right.
But it was too late. We had crested the mountain.
The city of Trumbalay spread beneath us, the town vast and private due to its location. Tiny, thatched-roof homes covered in snow dotted the outer area, with wooden, skilled-trader buildings in the center, and small cobblestone roads curled throughout. Snow flecked tree branches swayed in the wind, flakes showering down onto the ground. Sheep brazenly roamed the city’s inner workings, right alongside its residents—those shifters’ faces swung to the sky at our arrival.
It was truly a beautiful sight, but it was deadly nonetheless.
My stomach dropped, and my fingers clenched in my Fae-gift’s mane. “Fly fast, Penelope. Get us out of here.”
Penelope soared higher and higher into the clouds, her wings whipping through the air—the black and red feathers rustling back from the wind. She curved far around the city’s outer edges, not flying directly over it, keeping us far away from the onlookers.
The thin air shimmered before my eyes, not far away.
I squinted through the wind and sat forward on my riding saddle. The once clear air appeared crusted with diamonds, sparkling just so under the sunlight, noticeable from the right angle. I scanned the odd phenomenon, tracing it with my gaze, following the distinctive pattern carefully, never having encountered a sight like this.
I stared in confusion…until I was no longer confused.
My heart pounded brutally inside my chest.
