“Yeah,” he said. “That pretty much covers it.”
Chapter 18
Nadia stomped her feet against the packed snow. Her boots thudded in short bursts as she tried to force warmth back into her toes. It wasn’t working. The cold clung to her in a way that felt much deeper than before she’d been stabbed with silver. Being dumped into the river had hurt her more than it should’ve. The silver threaded through her blood, slow and stubborn, and the healers said it would take a while to burn out completely.
She believed them because her body didn’t feel right. Not yet.
Her sleep had been a mess ever since Bulwark had tried to kill her, but she wouldn’t share that sad fact with anybody. She’d awakened before dawn that morning, convinced she was still underwater. In the dream, she’d been sinking. The river had closed over her head again, black and heavy, and no matter how hard she kicked, she couldn’t reach the surface. She’d come awake, sitting straight up in bed and wishing Caidrik had climbed through the window to hold her.
Protecting the pack was more important, and she felt grateful he’d been doing that all night. Was she starting to depend on him too much? Her mind moved to Caidrik’s kissing abilities, and suddenly she felt warmer.
“That’s a pretty smile,” Luca said.
Nadia glanced sideways. Oops. Had she just smiled?
He stood a few feet away with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black jacket. His boots were scuffed and planted solidly in the snow. His blond hair stuck out from under his hat with the edges dusted white. He looked relaxed, almost cheerful.
She snorted. “You’re easily impressed.”
He laughed. “It’s still pretty.”
They stood at the top of Bombay Mountain, though calling it a mountain was generous. It was more of a broad hill compared to the peaks that ringed the territory. Even so, the drive up had been slow and careful, tires crunching over ice while enforcers rode ahead and behind them.
“All right.” Solomon stood a short distance away with his feet braced wide. His long coat snapped in the wind, fabric pulling tight around his legs. His cheeks were pink from the cold, and his eyes were bright with something that looked like excitement. “This challenge,” he said, “is an interesting one.”
“Of course it is,” Nadia muttered.
Luca tilted his head. “What is it?”
Solomon smiled and bounced on his heels. He clearly enjoyed this part. “I’ve named this one the Trial of the Turned Stone.”
Nadia frowned. “You named it?”
“Yes.”
Wait a second. Just how much power did Solomon have? Nadia’s breath puffed in the cold air. “You named all of the challenges?”
“Yes,” Solomon said.
Luca stared at him. “Did you make them up?”
Solomon coughed. “Not exactly. The grimoire outlines the different types of challenges that have worked through the centuries. I adapted them for modern use.”
That didn’t sound comforting, but it did explain the use of the drones.
He gestured toward a massive slab of slate lying half-buried in the snow a short distance away. The stone was flat and wide, its edges sharp where frost had eaten at it. Snow clung to the surface in uneven patches. It looked heavy. Impossibly heavy.
“You should be grateful,” Solomon added. “Several pack members had to haul that up here.”
Luca frowned. “What are we supposed to do with it?”
Solomon’s smile widened. “You’re going to move it, showing the pack you can solve problems and work together toward a common goal.”
Silence settled over the ridge.
“Take it from here,” Solomon continued, pointing to the stone, “to the old mineshaft entrance down the slope.”
Nadia followed the line of sight. The ground dropped away into trees and rock. The path wasn’t steep, but it was uneven and slick with ice. Snow drifted across it in shallow waves before it disappeared into the trees that led up another mountain.
