“Move,” Nicco said.
It wasn’t open for debate, or a vote. Just the flat certainty of a man who had made decisions like this before and learned to live with them.
I went. Because I had no better answer, and I hated him a little for the fact that he was as merciless in his actions as I had been in my words.
I didn’t want to be like him.Thinklike him.
We cleared the town at a pace that wasn't quite running, but it was quick, deliberate, and controlled. The Drift Wolves sounded behind us. Closer to the walls now, their hunger being sated by a prey that would never run.
I didn't look back, but I thanked the gods we wouldn’t have to hear their screams.
The snow opened up ahead. The trail north stretched pale and empty under the flat gray sky, and the cold came in from all sides like a held breath finally released.
I didn't feel the Frosttaken anymore.
That was either because we were far enough away or because it had decided we weren't worth following.
Or maybe it was full.
I didn't know which possibility was less comforting, but I knew the last one made me want to throw up.
Behind me, I heard one of the soldiers exhale. A shaky, ragged sound he probably didn't mean to make.
Nicco fell back until he was level with me. He said nothing for a long moment, just matched my stride, his breath even, his expression closed.
“The thing in the town,” he said finally. “You knew what it was before we went in?”
It wasn't a question.
“I had a theory,” I said carefully. “A memory from an old tale, told around a campfire.”
“And now?”
I thought about the ripple in the snow. The pull in my chest. The way the townspeople's faces had all turned inward, patientand empty and waiting, like candles left burning in a window for someone who was never coming home.
“Now I'm certain,” I said.
He looked at me sideways. “Frosttaken?”
“Yes. The stories say they don’t need to hunt, not like predators need to,” I said. “It just needs to wait.”
He was quiet for a moment. “That's not comforting, Trailfinder.”
“No,” I agreed. “It's not.”
“When was the last time any were seen?” he asked me.
“I didn’t know they were real. I don’t know anyone who’s seen one.”
He didn't push any further. I didn't offer any more. We moved north into the gray, and Skallfen fell behind us, silent, as it had never been — holding its people, its secrets, and its patient, waiting death.
I didn't look back.
Some things are better kept hidden deep down and never thought of again.
Chapter 13
The snow crunchedbeneath my boots as I surveyed the trail ahead, the icy wind whipping at my cloak, trying to blow it out behind me.
