Luc looks between the sheet of tshira and me with thinly veiled trepidation. “This sounds dangerous.”
It is. “It’s the fastest way down the mountain. When we get closer to Widow’s Hall, we’ll stop. You’ll make it the rest of the way on foot, and I’ll slip away without anyone knowing I was here.”
Before he can object, I crouch over the tshira, sitting on top of it.
Luc doesn’t move.
“We don’t have time for this,” I say impatiently. “If we don’t do this, we’ll lose.”
Luc is silent for a count of five. I’m tempted to find a rock, knock him over the head, and haul him to the finish line myself, but he finally climbs onto the tshira behind me. His legs are longer than mine and scrunched up next to me so his feet don’t drag through the snow.
My heart drums into my stomach, churning all my fears and anxieties as I shove a wave of heat ahead of us, melting the snow.
I press my feet to the ground and push off, sliding the tshira onto the narrow, icy path.
My belly drops with the sensation. It’s steeper than I’d anticipated, and I’m grateful I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning.
I lean to the side, and the tshira slides with me. Up ahead, the mountain drops off suddenly.
“Pickax to the left,” I call back to Luc.
He swings the ax into the ice behind us, and I plant my feet in the snow. We slide to a halt.
I focus magic to our right, melting us another path. We pivot and continue sliding.
We careen down the mountain, and I shout out to Luc eachtime we need to stop and turn. Our trail is shaky and we stop frequently, but progress is much faster than it would be if Luc was on his own, or if either of us was on foot.
Up ahead, a jagged rock juts out from the ground.
“Right!” I call to Luc.
Nothing happens.
I rock my body to the side. The tshira sled tilts, but not enough. We’re hurtling toward the rock, and Luc isn’t doing anything to slow us down.
“Luc, we need to stop.”
“I-I can’t. I dropped the ax.”
“Youwhat?”
He mumbles something in response, but I can’t hear him over my own terror. The rock looms closer. Panicked, I shove magic at the sled, trying to force it to stop.
The tshira shudders, but there are two of us on here, and we’re flying at full speed.
The sled slows but doesn’t stop.
I grunt, forcing all of my magic, every scrap of my fading energy, into the tshira.
We jolt. The sled pivots ever so slightly to the left.
It’s not enough.
The edge of the sled slams into the side of the rock as we barrel past it.
I open my mouth in a scream that’s lost to the howling wind as we’re thrown into the air.
The sled flies out from beneath me. It falls one way, I fall another.
