“Weather theatrics,” the wolf says. “Is that all you can do,soldier?”
A shadow of memory flickers across Colden’s face. Recognition bred with loathing. “You know it isn’t,my liege.”
The air grows ripe with three-hundred-year-old tension,which is bad enough without adding a defense of me and my honor.To defuse the situation before it gets worse, I step between them.
“Stop this nonsense. Now.” My voice comes out firm, even through chattering teeth. “We don’t have time for cock measuring. Besides, I’m just fine being left alone with the wolf.”
Colden blinks, and the haze of anger hanging over him like a pall disintegrates. Blessedly, the sleet slows, and the rushing patter of ice pelting the burned trees fades until it finally quiets completely.
I exhale a breath of relief and lower Colden’s jacket to my shoulders. “The prince still has access to a Dread Viper,” I remind them. “He could always use Fleurie to portal into Aki-Ra Quarter and take more Vipers as siphons. With that sort of power, he could win this war before it even begins. The wolf is our only way in, and I mean to use him like the asset he is.”
Already, my mind stirs with ideas of what to do, thinking about which strategy is best. Neri could not only bring Raina and Alexus home, and possibly Fleurie if her deal has been met, but he could also bring me the prince’s head.
And Thamaos’s brittle, old bones.
A wicked curve tilts Neri’s mouth in a manner that only makes the sharp lines of his annoyingly handsome face even more devastating, especially in the lightening dawn. As ever, I sense an unspoken sexual innuendo teetering on the tongue hidden behind those full lips, but I also see delight in his features, dancing in his eyes, as though my words lit something in the essence of his spirit.
“If an advantage over the enemy is offered,” he says in that deep, rich voice before sliding his stare to Colden, “you take it. If it means living to fight another day,you take it.”
Squaring my shoulders, even though I want to curl into a ball for warmth, I lift my chin. “I don’t disagree.”
Colden goes stiff and looks between Neri and me as though he sees something he doesn’t like. Eventually, his focus settles on Neri.
Again, he tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugs, returning to casually cool Colden. “Fine. The others can take the legion of stairs down to the city. But where exactly would you havemego, oh Great One? I’m a bittrapped. I can’t enter the City of Ruin thanks to Asha, and I can’t come face to face with Fia thanks to you. I don’t intend to plummet to the desert floor so you can have Nephele all to yourself while she digs up your pathetic, bony carcass.”
“I sense jealousy,” Neri teases.
“You sense protectiveness.” Colden comes to stand at my side, resting his booted foot on an exposed root. “I’ve nothing to be jealous of, least of all you. But when it comes to Nephele, you can damn well believe I watch over her.”
“I know you do. I’ve seen you hovering for the last eight years. You and the sorcerer as well. As though neither of you realizesthatwoman” —he stabs a finger toward me— “can fucking take care of herself.”
I blink rapidly, shocked to hear such words coming from Neri. But I’m even more shocked at how much they resonate. I love Colden and Alexus. Colden is my best friend, and Alexus is the brother I never had. And though I know deep down they do realize that I can take care of myself—they taught me, for gods’ sake—I also know they struggle with letting go and giving me a chance. Perhaps I must force their hands.
“Enough bickering. It's as cold as death, and we’re wasting precious time.” I look at my friends, weary and shivering, and jerk my head toward the over one thousand steps cut into the side of the mountain. “You all should go. Sunrise is coming. Fia Drumera must be losing her mind with worry.”
Hel nods once, but then she pulls away from Rhonin and stalks past me, heading straight for the wolf. She looms over him, her dark hair tangling in a smooth wind, and he slowly lifts his gaze to meet her seething stare.
“Iprayedto you.” She spits at his feet. “We all did. Even my brother who believed in you so wholly. An entire valley of innocent people who trusted you to look after us. We went to temple every week. Bent our knees and prayed for your guidance and wisdom. We lifted our hands and ourheartsto you.”
He crooks a brow, his mouth drawn into a tight line. “I never asked for anyone’s worship, girl. And I couldn’t have answered prayers even if I’d not been trapped inside Un Drallag. Prayers are designed to ease your conscience when you commit a wrong and to make you feel like a higher being can save you from the burdens of life and conflicts of men. In reality, no one’s listening on the other side, except maybe Thamaos turning his ear to his puppet, the prince. So before you blame me for your losses, consider that gods are not all-powerful. Certainly not from the fucking grave.”
“Or perhapsyou’rejust not,” she replies. “Because Thamaos constructed an entire plot for resurrection and an attack on our valley—from the Nether Reaches—while you were just a lost pup who couldn’t figure out how to get his ass free of a sorcerer’s magickal cage.”
Neri’s face darkens. “It would be best for you to listen to the witch and go, girl. Before you pick a fight you won’t win.”
Rhonin steps forward, tugging off his woolen coat, chest out and fists ready, but I stop him.
Hel bends to one knee. There’s not a single drop of fear in her as she comes face to face with a god. “Nephele sees some sort of redeeming quality in you. I don’t. But I know one thing. She will do what’s right for the Northlands and Tiressia. If that means using you, then I trust her to not only do it with clever skill and intent but to also make you the most fucking miserable god this side of the Shadow World. So good luck.” She winks. “Thatwitchis about to own you, you bastard.”
To my surprise, given all she’s lost to the flame, Hel stands and summons fire from her palm to illuminate the gray morning, the light reflecting in her dark, glassy eyes. “Come on,” she says to the group, walking over to join them again. “We have much to discuss with the queen.”
Wearing a pinched expression of concern, Rhonin wraps his coat around my shoulders for extra warmth and briefly squeezes my shoulder as they pass. He says nothing, though. Keth and Jaega look hesitant and confused, holding hands as they walk by, wordless.
Zahira nears next and gently grips my hand. I understand the fear and worry I see in her eyes. If Vexx murdered Finn, what might he have done to Yaz? To Mari? Did he know of them? Or did Finn go to him? There’s no way to know unless we return home to the Northland Break.
“I have faith that you’re making the right move,” Zahira says, her eyes shadowed.
“Me too,” Callan says from behind her, clasping my face in one hand.
