“It is an option, Princess. If this mirror is as powerful as Colonel Graydim claims, it will be dangerous if any word of it gets out,” Oskar said.
“It won’t matter because Phile is right. We’re going to destroy it,” Rakel said. She slid off Frigid’s back and patted him.
“Let’s just bring Crow,” Phile said. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about—and with my sterling character, I am a perfect judge.”
“Where did you get your dagger again?” Frodi—who held a tiny ball of flames in his hands to keep warm—asked cheekily.
“Foedus appeared to me in a dream and said he would come only to those who are judged worthy,” Phile said.
Crow frowned. “Last night you said you found it in an empty tomb.”
“Quite right,” Phile said.
“We could blindfold him,” General Halvor supposed.
“I could tie him to a cliff,” Eydìs offered.
“Enough,” Rakel said. “We’re wasting time. I want to find that mirror and destroy it.”
General Halvor and Oskar bowed. “Yes, Princess.”
The animals were untacked, a base camp was established, and then the group finally followed Snorri into the narrow path. Several times the path grew so tight, tall Oskar and burly Halvor—among others—had a hard time slipping through.
“Ow—what are you battering me with? That ugly dagger of yours?” Crow cawed as Phile used a foot to push against him, trying to force him through one of the narrow spots.
Oskar grunted. “She would not have to push if you didn’t wear enough padding to be mistaken for a snow bear.” He yanked on the mercenary by the lapels of his outermost jacket.
“I have a bit of sympathy. It’s colder than a king’s soul here.” Phile grunted as she applied her shoulder to Crow’s lower back.
Rakel tugged on her white braid. “I’ve been raising the temperature.”
“Believe me, Princess, we’re all thankful,” Oskar said. “Suck it in, pigeon!”
“The name isCrow.”
Phile, Oskar, and Crow yelped and tumbled to the ground when the mercenary popped out of the tight pass.
Oskar staggered to his feet. “I’m getting too old for this.”
Crow almost knocked into Snorri who, instead of continuing down the uncomfortable pass, stared at one of the cliff walls.
“What is it, Snorri?” General Halvor asked.
“It’s inside,” Snorri said.
Phile stood up and panted. “The mirror?”
“Yes.”
“It’s inside the cliff?”
“Yes.”
Phile squinted up at the sky—which was gray, misty, and seemed almost close enough to touch. “There must be a way in.”
Oskar peered down the tight path. “Perhaps if we forge ahead.”
“It’s impassable,” Frodi called from the front of the line.
