He wipes snow from his eyes with the back of his hand and sighs. “The fucking Gravenna Mountains.”
* * *
Our walk is grueling.
We’re on the northern side of the mountains, moving downhill on a dark, snowy night. Neri found a rope in his pack and tied it around our waists to keep us together because I can hardly see. My mental wards are down so we can communicate, and the wolf uses that open connection to help guide me. I also hold on to the rope, but I keep my head down and angled away from the harsh wind so I can squint my eyes open to see yet another snowy blur.
There shouldn’t be this much snow here, nor should it be this painfully cold. We’re too far south. In the highest elevations? Or further north in the valley? Perhaps.
But not here.
Yet at least four feet of snow has accumulated in places, if not more, and more is steadily falling and rapidly building. There’s no explanation for it. Just a weather anomaly. But something sets me on edge at that notion. Neri, too.
Because he can’t control it. Hard as he tries, his usual power over the northern climate has vanished, the same as his ability to sift. Worse still, when I try calling the aether, I can sense it nearby, but it disappears as if it refuses to come near us.
For so long, we move together through the trees, staying to the shallow drifts, the spitting snow unrelenting. I’ve endured eight brutal winters at Winterhold and plenty of white winters in the vale. And though I’ve been through worse, this night chose to deliver its own brutality.
My clothes aren’t meant for being trapped outside in frigid weather. My pants are fitted homespun, my jacket a nice brocade. But my cloak isn’t fur-lined, and I have no gloves. Only my knee-high leather boots are somewhat adequate protection.
I try not to think about it, because Neri will make a matter of it, and we don’t have time for him to fuss over my comfort.
Eventually, the snow and wind slow their assault as we near the base of the mountain. But now that the howling blizzard has quieted, I also hear other sounds. Sounds beyond our crunching steps. Sounds that make the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
Neri pauses, causing me to stumble to a halt. There’s a moment of dead quiet as he reaches back to grab the rope and tugs me close against him. Slowly, he turns his chin over his shoulder and presses one long finger to his lips.
Dread swells inside my chest as I scan the night around us. All I can see are trees and more trees and a little silvery light reflecting off the snow. There must be something more only a wolf can detect because Neri reaches over his back and silently unsheathes his sword.
With alarm flooding my veins, I carefully slipmysword free. Then I hear it.
Low grunts. Hooves stamping. Quick snorts.
“Great Horns,” Neri says into my mind.
I swallow hard. I’ve never seen these beasts, but I know hunting them requires skill. I also know they’re this area's apex predators, and the herd stalks prey together, guiding it to a place where they can surround their victim.
They’re carnivorous and lightning fast, their antlers sharp as spears, their mouths filled with razor-edged teeth. If that’s what’s out there, and if they’re surrounding us, it will require a miracle of magick to construct a cage that size in this forest. One thatwedon’t get trapped in as well.
“They know me,”Neri says. “They even bowed down and offered sacrifice the last time I was here so I could feed you and your friends. So let’s keep moving.They’re probably only curious. Just try not to spook them, be quiet, and stay alert.”
“Traveling with the God of the North has its advantages,”I say. “The big dick of the forest.”
I imagine him laughing at that, the low, deep sound he makes in his chest.
“Yes, I suppose my big dick is a blessing when you’re not falling from the sky because it’s in your presence.”
I’m not entirely convinced that’s why the aether abandoned us, and I know he hears my thoughts on the matter. But our mental conversation falls silent as we move on, eyes peeled.
Being physically quiet is impossible. Every time a booted foot crushes through deep snow, I cringe. So we start moving in unison, cutting the sound by half, though I’m beginning to doubt it matters, save for not spooking the animals. The Great Horns have seen us, yet they stay to the trees, hopefully, because their god is in their midst. Regardless, I still feel like a walking, warm-blooded meal.
Neri pauses again. “There’s a clearing ahead. That’s where they want us to go, but not for any other reason than we’re being herded in that direction. For an attack.”
My stomach drops. “Well, don’t fucking take us there.”
“I don’t have much choice. They’re everywhere. And they aren’t responding to my mental commands to leave.”
“Do they normally?”
“Yes. How do you think I got them to sacrifice one of their herd for food? Theymustknow me. Yet I can sense their aggression. The hunt. They’re just waiting.”
