I glowered at Asdren. If that was how he spoke to someone he liked, I would hate to see how he spoke to someone he hated.
Over the course of two sunrises, we rode up into the clouds.
Snow now flew around us in swirls of wind that made ice form on beards, eyebrows, and shaggy ponies. Breathing was hard. Not for the others, it seemed, but for me. Even when I lay down with the horses to rest, it was hard to pull in a breath. My head ached now, softly, but enough to make me as irritable as Asdren. His temper was foul and growing fouler with each step closer to the Iron Gate. Smuta assured me we only had another pass of the moon sisters before we arrived at the formidable gates leading to Grommveldir. Then it would be all downhill.
Yay.
We’d passed several carts leaving the dwarven capital, all pulled by shaggy goats or shaggy ponies. One was pulled by a shaggy yak. I could not tell the males from the females on the carts, as they were so bundled up. Some had beards and somedid not, so I assumed the bearded ones were the males, but I had heard tell of females with lush facial hair.
So everything on these desolate, frigid, terrible mountains was coated with hair. I sorely wished my face had a thick beard. Smuta and I rode along with only our noses peeking out of the various lengths of knitted scarves I’d packed. The dwarves had pulled on fur pelts, hats, gloves, and boots lined with snow hare fur. Goddess knows I love the beasts as much, if not more than myself at times, but the biting cold was making my morals weaken with every shudder racking my body. My coat was not warm enough for this terrain, even though I had been sure it would suit. Foolish little elf. I was sure the others were tittering about me. I could not hear them through the whipping winds and snow, but surely they were. The tips of my ears, even wrapped in a scarf, were numb. I had once seen a rooster who had lost the tips of his comb when caught in a cold spell. They had turned black and fell off. If my ears did that, I…I had no idea what I would do, to be honest. Even thinking was difficult. I wassotired. Asdren had now taken to riding behind me to keep me moving when I began to lag. I’d nearly fallen asleep riding several times today, but Newt was doing better. Perhaps the snow was keeping the swelling down on that bruise, so he was now plodding along behind me while I rode atop…which pony was it?
My eyelashes were clumped thick with snow. Even they ached. I wondered if I would ever be warm again. Just as I was contemplating a hot bath, a white rock rabbit darted out from beneath a snow-covered bush. My pony startled, reared up, and threw me off his back before my sluggish brain could understand what was taking place. Someone yelled. It could have been the wind. My back hit the narrow path. All the air—and that was scant little—left my lungs. I moved to avoid the hooves coming down at my head and rolled off the path witha muffled shout of alarm. Someone caught my arm as I went over the side, yanking it out of its socket with a jarring pop that made me scream in agony. The side of the Witherhorns faded in and out as I hung there like a pair of trousers on a clothesline, blowing in the breeze.
“Fuck’s sake, Chirp, grab hold of my other hand!” Asdren yelled, his shout focusing me on his face now floating above me. His beard blew sideways. Wide, blue eyes stared down at me. I blinked at the snow hitting me in the face, my scarf hanging off my face to expose my right ear and cheek. The snow had bite to it. “Come on, Beiro, give me your other hand.”
I saw his grip on my forearm, tight as a steel band, as the pain from my shoulder made my vision blur. “You ain’t flying to your goddess right yet, Vol’ka Dor. There ain’t no fucking trees to hang you from up here!”
The wind pulled his words away quickly, but I heard him. Pretty bird. How nice. He was so very handsome. I wanted to touch his beard just once…
I reached for the long, black beard. His hand slapped around my wrist, and with a mighty heave, he jerked me up. My chin scraped along the rocks. It burned, but the agony of my shoulder was far, far worse. He eased me upward, other hands now tugging at my coat and then my pants until I was hauled up to the path. I wanted to say something about his beard. Mention how the blue beads matched his eyes. Instead, I fell to the side, catching myself with my good arm, and vomited the meager breakfast I’d eaten.
“Get back and let the lad empty his gullet,” Asdren bellowed as he lifted me from the pathway, rising to his feet to cart me back to a windbreak. I clung to him like a bog burdock, one arm around his thick neck, the other dangling at my side, useless. “I got you, Chirp, I got you. We’re going to tend to you like you do the ponies now. You just hold tight to me, yeah?”
“I like your beads,” I said as I turned my face into his throat. He was so warm. A groan escaped me. All I could think of was curling up next to him. It would be like a giant bedwarmer, only far more appealing.
“I knew you would.” He set me down gently, kneeled between my legs, and then took my face between his hands. Hands encased in thick gloves. “Now, we got to do a little bit of finagling on you to get your shoulder back where it should be. First, I want you to drink some of this here whiskey.”
Someone passed me a flask. I looked up to see Smuta smiling at me as she shoved the small metal container at me. I took it, hand shaking strongly, and took a sip. It burned like lava racing down my throat. I coughed. My shoulder screamed at the movement. The snow swirling around us began to blow straight up. Wow.
“The ponies?” I asked while watching vertical snow.
“They’re fine, Chirp,” one of the twins replied, but I could not say which one.
“Another.” Asdren said so kindly that I smiled at him as I downed another shot. Then another, then another, and another, and yet another. When the flask was empty, he winked at me. “Nicely done, Chirp. We’ll make a dwarf out of you yet. Now, I’m going to place an arm here and then your hand here on my shoulder, just so.” He was kneeling in front of me, my numb hand sitting on his wide shoulder. “Now you just go ahead and take a few sips more so your muscles go soft.”
Another flask was pressed to my lips. It tasted good now. Rich caramel and charred oak lingered on my tongue. Much tastier than vomit. My stomach was warm. “You are handsome,” I whispered to Asdren. He gave me a crooked grin and began massaging my arm. Up the biceps to the rounded muscle of my upper shoulder. The whiskey and his kneading touch were relaxing me so well that I felt little pain.
“Good, lad, good. Nice deep breaths. This might feel a bit queer, but I promise you it won’t hurt. You trust me, Chirp?”
“Mm-hmm,” I replied as a snowflake landed on his proud nose. It melted instantly. My arm did feel peculiar, especially when the joint popped back into place. I gasped at the sensation. Asdren grinned at me.
“That’s a good soldier. Learned that from an elf mage when I was in the military. Now, let’s see you touch your other shoulder.”
I did as asked. The shoulder that had been worked on was tender, but the pain was minimal. My eyes rounded. Asdren smiled widely. I leaned into him, slipping off the snowy rock into his arms…strong, thick arms that caught me with ease.
“You did good,” I said as I buried my nose into his neck. Mm, the feel of his beard hairs on my cheek was sublime. I was warm, happy, and ready for a nap. My eyes closed for a moment, just long enough to wiggle into his embrace a bit more. Just a little more. Just a tiny, little, teeny bit more. I curled into him. He held me close.
“And you did good too, Chirp.” I recalled little after that. The whiskey—which I had not seen produced on this trip before—had done its job. I came awake once when someone was tying a sling around me and easing my arm into it, and then once more when I was helped up onto the back of a pony. The snow was biting at me again.
“I hate this cold,” I whimpered like a drunken sissy as a strong arm came around my middle, pulling my back tight to a wide chest.
“We’ll be warm soon enough, Vol’ka Dor. You just rest for a spell.” I sighed at the sound of Asdren’s voice moving over my now re-wrapped ears. Oh good! The tips would not freeze and fall off like that odd cock. Odd cock. Nowthatwas a funny comeback!
