The dread in Tansy’s scream tears my attention back to our dwindling circle.
Briar, gentle, loving Briar, stands with her horn lowered at the wolves, its length dripping with gore. A frostfang corpse at her hooves.
Those cracks in the ice, like the delicate web of fractures on an eggshell preparing to hatch, are lengthening.
Tansy lets out another yell. It’s Leilani. Without Blayze and his inhuman strength to block her, she’s wrenching at the healer’s free arm, forcing her way into the fray. She’s part of the circle now, standing shoulder to shoulder with Tansy on one side and me the other. I glare at her, readying to force her back again, away from danger, away from the temptation of summoning starshine again too, but then a grey shadow streaks towards us. It’s pure instinct to raise my blade, to slash again and again, channelling the Clanschief’s frenzied blows. To protect her. The blade sinks into something furred, and warm liquid coats my fingers. The frostfang crumples beneath my blade, falling to the ice with a nauseating thump.
I’ve killed it.
The awareness comes in waves, and yet it doesn’t seem real – some far-off thing I can’t grasp. It’s impossible to keep my thoughts straight; my mind is too clouded by Delphine’s song. She’s dulling our senses, right when we need them sharp as the ignastium blade of my sword. And her spell isn’t even working on the wolves.
She needs to stop.
‘Delphine!’ My yell is snatched by a strong wind that whips my cloak and stings my cheeks. Something rumbles. My eyes turn back to the ice. The cracks are inching closer.
We need to move. Now.
The rumble comes again, louder this time. But I’m wrong. It’s not the ice making that sound. It’s too loud, and the vibrations aren’t coming from underfoot, they’re coming from the sky.
I crane my neck. Serafine circles overhead, beating her wings to some inaudible, staccato rhythm. Lightning forks the bruised sky behind her, thunder following swiftly at its heels.
Delphine is still chanting, her song luring me to sleep despite the nightmare unfolding around us.
And then it strikes me. This is the purpose of her song. Not to beguile the wolves, but to assist Serafine. They’re not strong enough alone, not thus depleted and far from their respective cores, but together, they’re siphoning Flame and Wave Aethers. Forging a storm. Creating a diversion.
Soon, the air is so thick with churning snowflakes I can hardly see, and the gap between thunderclaps and lightning bolts shrinks to nothing.
‘On my signal, mount the cragstalkers and steer towards the mountain.’ Blayze’s voice is only just audible over the driving wind. ‘Now!’
I reach for Leilani, drag her towards the largest of the cats. Hands bloodied, hair falling across my eyes, I mount it, then reach for her again, drawing her up behind me.
Gripping the cragstalker’s fur with one hand, I lean back, swinging the Crescent Sword in the other, fending off the frostfangs snapping at our heels and tearing at Leilani’s cloak.
One of the wolves launches at us, sending the cragstalker reeling on thin ice. Somehow it stays upright. The frostfang lunges for its back leg. The cragstalker roars in pain. I slash at the frostfang with my blade, trying to drive it back. As I lift my sword to deliver another blow, the frostfang releases the cat’s haunch, snarls, and clamps frothing, bloodied jaws around my arm. Leilani screams. Sharp pain engulfs my forearm. I swear, kick at the wolf, but it only bites down harder. The pain flares.
With a desperate yell, I wrench my arm free. Try to ignore the sound of ripping flesh, the rush of something warm and viscous seeping through my shirt. Swapping my sword to my weaker arm, I bring it down on the frostfang, raining blow after blow, till, with a wet crunch, I sever its head, silencing its awful howl, stilling forever its snapping jaws.
I fall back against Leilani.
Blood. Too much blood.
‘Astrophel,’ she breathes, panic shaking her voice.
‘I’m all right,’ I lie, trying not to look at the mangled mess the frostfang has made of my arm.
A sweet, ferrous tang taints the already foul air. I fight against the rising nausea. Leilani’s pressing the wound. But blood’s oozing through her fingers. It’s hopeless, like trying to dam a river with pebbles. She lifts her hands away. Dark spots swarm in front on my eyes. I try to lift my head, but it swims, and I collapse against her again.
‘Astrophel, stay with me. Do you hear me?’
I try to cling to the sound of her voice. Not to close my eyes. There’s a tearing sound. Something bracing my wound. I yelp in pain as Leilani tightens a makeshift tourniquet fashioned from her torn shirttail.
The wolves’ howls echo across the ice. We’re not out of danger yet.
Our cragstalker is slipping, moving too fast, lurching wildly. Sister, spare us.
The thunder grows deafening, lightning flashes directly overhead. The sky has darkened; I can no longer see the foot of the mountain to judge how far we still have to travel over the glacier. I can’t see the other cats, or the other members of the Quaternity. I can’t even hear them. They could all lie slaughtered on the ice.
I push that thought from my mind. The conjured storm may yet serve its purpose – drive the frostfangs back to their mountain lair. Leilani is safe. That’s all that matters. And she hasn’t tried to use her powers again. Maybe Orthriel was wrong about the Shadow Mark. About what it means.
