I do. Of course I do. But the second trial is starting as we speak, and if I’m not there, Luc will lose.
Stay or go? Make sure Ophera is safe, or ensure my brother’s victory in the Tournament?
I take a heavy breath. I know what Iwantto do. But rushing to see what’s happening in Ophera is only a solution in the short term. “Can you please ask around for me? Find out what you can. I’ll see what we can do to fix this when I get back.”
Sef looks shocked. “You’re still leaving?”
“Luc will fail without me. And I can’t do anything for Ophera if he loses.”
Sef stares at me for several seconds, looking almost . . . disappointed. She hugs me anyway. “If you die up there, I’ll never forgive you,” she murmurs into my ear. “Good luck, Mira. You’ll need it.”
Harsh winds and white snow batter me from all sides, visibility is nonexistent, and every step sends an ache through my entire body. It doesn’t help that I have a bag strapped to my back stuffed with jars of magic, a tshira knife, and a pickax slotted through a loop at the top of my pack.
This high up, the mountain is impressively steep, but it’s not the incline that makes my journey to the top absolute hell—it’s the ice.
It’severywhere. Each step is a precarious struggle to move my foot from one slick pad to another. Just when I think I’m stable enough to pull myself up the mountain slope, it turns out the place I’ve set my foot is just more ice. The next thing I know, I’m nearly slipping to my death.
Before each step, I swing the ax, slicing through ice, snow, and rock, to give my hands something to grab on to, and my feet a space to slot into.
The trek is steep and painful, but so long as I use both hands, both legs, and my pickax, I make very, very slow progress. It feels more like crawling than climbing, but at least I’m moving.
I have no idea how much time has passed, but my fingers are numb, and I’m sure my lips are blue. Wind is so loud, it drowns out everything except my own labored breathing. The higher I climb, the thicker the ice, and the more force it requires to break through.
I swing the pickax once, twice, five times to carve out a space, then tuck it back into its loop atop my bag. My hands slip into the icy cleft, feeling until my fingers find something to grip—stone.
I’ve lost practically all feeling in my hand, but I hold firm. A groan falls from between my gritted teeth as my other hand grabs a large stone protruding from the snow. The muscles in my arms and back cry out in protest as I haul myself up and tumble onto the ledge above.
I’m sprawled on my back, exhausted. Snow cascades around me. My body is frozen, tired, and sore, but I force it to sit up and stand.
I’m tempted to use the magic in my bag to steal some warmth into my shivering limbs, but when I finally find Luc, I’m going to need as much of it as possible to get us down the mountain in one piece. There isn’t enough to spare.
Just as I’m about to keep moving, I hear shuffling.
I twist, searching. The world is a white blur. I see nothing.
My head turns as though hinged as I stumble forward, prowling through the blinding storm.
Looming ahead is a flash of black. I drag my feet through the snow toward it, until I’m close enough to make out Luc. He’s watching the ground, ambling his way down, so focused on not falling, he doesn’t see me until I’m nearly right in front of him.
I’m completely covered in snow gear, but he recognizes me instantly. “Mira? What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you do this by yourself, did you?” I try to sound glib, but my teeth are chattering and my lips are going numb, so my attempt at humor falls flat.
“How did you even get here?”
“I climbed.” I try and shrug it off. “Where’s Kaidren?”
“Youclimbed? In this? Mira, you could’ve been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.” This is why I didn’t tell him the location of the trial ahead of time. I figured he’d try to talk me out of interfering. “Where’s Kaidren?”
“I don’t know. Last I saw him, he was pulling ahead. I think I’m losing.”
“That’s fine. I have a plan.” My climb up gave me plenty of time to strategize. “I brought some magic with me. We’re going to slide down the mountain.” I rustle my frozen fingers through my bag until I reach the tshira knife. “On this.”
Luc frowns doubtfully. “On a knife?”
In response, I channel magic into the tshira. It pools into an inky puddle at my feet. With another burst of magic, it hardens into a thin, flat sheet. It has no runners, but the tshira is smooth enough to function as a makeshift sled. “We’ll slide on this. I’ll melt the ice into a path as we go.Youare going to use your pickax to veer the sled and keep us on course.”
