“Quickly now, Erik,” he says, an urgency in his voice that sends cold apprehension through me.
“The wolves?” I ask, following Father to the door.
“Most of them darted away a minute ago,” he says, still holding his bow, its quiver now resting in the scabbard at his back alongside his sword. “They must have sensed something close. You need to move.”
Outside the cabin, Thoren waits on the frozen ground a few paces from the door, an arrow nocked to his bow, his attention focused on the trees to our left. If the Blacksmiths are coming from the south, that’s the direction from which they would first appear.
Kori has stayed at his side, the wolf’s blue eyes bright as he snarls softly.
“The other wolves went that way,” Thoren says, inclining his head in the direction his bow is pointed. “I’ll keep watch.”
I head for the sled that waits on the ground directly in front of me.
At the same moment, a howl sounds in the distance.
It’s an eerie cry from a single wolf that’s picked up by the other wolves until the forest is echoing with their calls.
Their combined howls send shivers down my spine, and I try to calm my movements while Father and I strap the woman onto the sled. It has raised edges, so she won’t easily slide off either side, and the leather straps will ensure she doesn’t get knocked off if we traverse rocky terrain.
Of course, she’ll feel like a prisoner when she wakes, but that’s the least of my concerns right now.
Keeping her and my family alive is what I care about.
Within my mind, I’m berating myself. I never should have brought her back here. I should have split off from my family and found another way to get her warm.
I should have?—
My father’s hand on my shoulder halts my thoughts. “Erik.”
I glance up at him.
“Destiny,” he says with a stern look that speaks volumes.
“Father, I’ll remember everything you taught me.” My throat tightens too much to continue speaking.
He draws me upright and pulls me into a warrior’s embrace. “May the stars watch over you, Son.”
Then he turns away, taking Thoren’s place on watch so that my brother can come to me.
I don’t miss the tears in his young eyes.
I fight the burn of my own tears as I pull my brother into a hug. “Youwillsee me again.”
He gives me a nod, even though he must know it’s a promise I might not be able to keep.
I crouch and reach for the straps attached to the sled.
I’m about to pull them onto my shoulders when Skirra edges away from the woman for the first time, growling savagely in the direction of the trees directly opposite the cabin—farther to the right than the direction Thoren was focused on.
Father tenses, his eyes narrowed at the trees. If it’s indeed the Blacksmiths who have alarmed the wolves, and not one of the monstrous predators that lives in this forest, then it seems they’re coming from that direction. Which means they probably circled around, scouting the cabin’s surroundings, ascertaining the terrain.
It means they’re smart. I can’t underestimate them.
Suddenly, the chorus of howls stops.
We’re left in an abrupt, sharp silence that feels heavier with every passing second.
A breeze kicks up, tugging at the snow on the trees, swirling at the ice on the ground.
