Solomon inclined his head. “Your task is simple in instruction, not execution. You will cross together. On the far side, against the mountain face, you will find a slate deposit. You must chip a wolf form from it, which is easier than you think, because of the way the slate is set into the rock wall.”
“With what tools?” Isaac asked.
Solomon’s mouth twitched as he reached into his pocket. “You actually had to ask for these, according to the law.” He handed a chisel and a small stone hammer to Isaac, who shoved them in his pocket.
Nadia frowned. “And the bridge?”
“Is the bridge,” Solomon said. “You may cross however you choose. One at a time or together. But you both must reach the other side, and Isaac, you must protect Nadia. Much better than Bulwark did.”
The wind surged, rocking the bridge hard enough that the boards knocked against one another. Nadia watched it sway and felt her pulse kick up.
“Any questions?” Solomon asked.
“Yes,” Nadia said. “Does anyone ever die crossing this bridge?”
Solomon eyed the swaying contraption. “To be honest, we don’t let people use it. The kids try once in a while, but we keep the area cut off.”
Isaac let out a slow breath. “Good to know.”
Solomon stepped back. “The slate on the other side is supposed to be magical.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure I believe in that kind of thing, but since you can get slate shards in the shape of a wolf, I guess it might be true. We’ll see. Be careful, and we’ll see you back at the lodge.”
Nadia jerked. “You’re not waiting here for us?”
“No. Shift into wolf form when you’re back and run together.” Solomon smiled. “I missed that part in the earlier translations and just figured it out today. You’re supposed to be in wolf form together during some part of each challenge. Probably just to make sure your spirits are aligned. Maybe?” He turned and walked away, boots crunching over snow, already losing interest.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The river roared below them, the sound filling every gap in thought. Snow dusted the boards, and the ropes creaked under the wind.
Isaac broke the silence, his blue eyes burning through the dusk. “I’ll go first and test it?”
“Okay. I’ll be right behind you the entire time.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Stay close.” He stepped carefully onto the bridge.
Nadia said a quiet prayer and followed him. The boards dipped immediately, the whole structure swaying as if offended by their weight. Her fingers tightened around the ropes, her gloves already damp. The cold cut straight through them.
“Eyes forward,” Isaac said quietly. “Not down.”
“I know,” she muttered. “I really know.”
They moved one step at a time, syncing their pace without talking about it. The wind shoved at them, hard enough that Nadia had to lean into the rope to keep her balance. Below, the river smashed through a narrow chute, foam glowing faintly in the dying light.
Halfway across, the bridge lurched.
Nadia gasped as one board shifted under her boot, tilting sharply. Her heart slammed into her throat.
“I’ve got you,” Isaac said instantly, turning back.
His hand closed around her wrist, firm and steady. He planted his feet wide, absorbing the movement until the bridge settled into a slower sway. “Okay,” he said. “You’re good. Take a breath.”
She sucked in air. “Thank you.”
He turned and picked his way gingerly forward. Snow thickened as they went, flakes sticking to their lashes, melting against their skin. Nadia’s arms burned from gripping the ropes. Her shoulders ached from fighting the wind.
“How are you doing?” Isaac called back, his voice faint in the blowing wind.
“Still alive,” she said. “Ask me again in a minute.”
