“Caenum, it feels like we’ve been walking for days.” Dreya said, coming to a stop. She crossed her arms and sunk down against a thick tree.
I yelled at Kenzi to stop up ahead.
She was right. We had been walking forever. The days were wearing on us, and as the evenings sneaked up on us, the weather grew colder by the day. Kenzi led the way while Dreya and I shouted directions, the ball of light pulsing in his hands illuminating the path ahead, the night making the woods an impossible-to-navigate maze of black. At least we were growing weary during the day, the sun high above us, when we would have time to do something about it.
There was something strange about the way Dreya looked at me now. A new something I couldn’t quite place.
“What is it?” I asked Dreya.
“Nothing,” she said, breathing in deeply, then exhaling. “I’m just hungry and tired, is all.”
It was impossible for her to lie to me, and vice versa. There was something else. It wasn’t sadness lingering on her face, though I’m sure that was certainly part of it. She glanced up with a look that said please don’t ask.
“Then let’s make camp,” I said. I glanced up at the sky, the sun shining fiercely above us. “It looks about lunchtime anyway, and we haven’t had a proper meal since . . .” I paused. Dreya winced and I frowned. Since something we’re trying not to talk about.
“Kenzi!” I shouted, waving him over. Despite only knowing us for a few days, he was great at knowing when he should keep his distance, when to avoid sticking his nose someplace it didn’t belong. It was a trait I was seriously growing to appreciate.
“I saw a cave back there,” he said, pointing toward the wooded area from which he had just come, “in the side of a hill; looks small. We can probably crash there later, since we’ve been walking all morning, and the night before, for that matter.” He tossed his pack on the ground.
Gathering firewood was easy. Together, Kenzi and I gathered up small bits of kindling. At one point Kenzi dropped a bundle of sticks he was carrying and looked up a rather large tree, his eyes narrowed and focused.
“What . . . ?” I began.
He shushed me and his eyes flashed white for a moment, then he sent a small bolt of lightning soaring into the tree. I jumped back as a loud squawk echoed through the woods, and a burnt, black, very dead bird fell to the earth, unrecognizable and charred.
Kenzi’s mouth curled up disapprovingly. I covered my mouth and nose with my hands, against the smell of burned flesh and feathers. My eyes began to water.
“So much for dinner,” he said, nudging the charred bird corpse with his foot, the body still smoldering. “Jerky it is.”
Kenzi, Dreya, and I all sat down around the fire circle. I grabbed my satchel and ruffled through it. I stopped and grimaced.
“What?” Kenzi asked.
“We don’t have a flint,” I said, frowning and rummaging around a little more.
Nothing.
When I glanced up from the bag, Kenzi was grinning at me.
“What?” I asked.
Kenzi pointed at the stack of wood and shot a small bolt of lightning into it, the dried timber sparking immediately.
“Show off,” I said, waving my hands over the fire, giving the budding flames oxygen.
He lifted up his hand and blew on his finger as if he were putting out a candle, and a thin wisp of white smoke danced off it.
The three of us ate ravenously, tearing into the meager amount of supplies we had, slurping eagerly from our canteens. Dreya was the one who finally stopped us from devouring three to four days’ worth of food in less than an hour. We’d picked from our bags as we moved, and this was the first time we sat down to actually appreciate something. It was hard to resist.
“We should probably save some.” she said in a half question, packing up her provisions back into her satchel. “We might still have a ways to go.”
Kenzi and I both nodded, and begrudgingly did the same, but not before each of us took one last final chomp on a strip of jerky. The three of us sat in silence around the campfire, looking into the flames. I couldn’t take it.
“When are you going to say it?” I asked, looking into the fire, not glancing up at her.
“What?” she asked, knowing the question was for her. I looked up, the same look on her face, and Kenzi glanced from me to her and back again.
“I don’t know,” I said, crossing my arms and digging my feet into the earth, “you tell me. You’re hiding something.”
She opened her mouth to say something, and stopped.
“Come on!” I said.
“M-my,” she began, stammering. “My ribs don’t hurt anymore. From when I fell down the stairs in the storeroom, trying to escape?” She looked up at me, her eyes full of . . . I wasn’t sure. Sorrow, it seemed.
“I don’t understand.” I said, confused. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
She sighed and fussed with some dried leaves on the ground. She gently touched her lower ribs, right above her stomach, patting her shirt gently, almost cautiously. “Look,” she said, softly, lifting up her shirt a little. She breathed in and sucked in her stomach. Right above her tight, thin stomach, I saw the outline of her ribs. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated with myself as my heart fluttered a little at the sight of her naked skin. There were no bruises, no scrapes, nothing—it was as if her tumble down the stairs in the storage room never happened.
“W-where,” I stammered, pulling my gaze away from her stomach, “where are your bandages?”
“I took them off before we left town,” she said, touching her ribs tenderly. “After the fire, everything was just . . . better.”
I opened my mouth to say something, and stopped.
I looked down at my bandaged hands and began to unravel the red-stained cotton wrapped tightly around my palms. At this, Dreya jumped up. “What are you doing?” she asked urgently. “You need those. We don’t have any more.”
I shushed her and unwrapped them even faster. The cuts, scrapes, and deep lacerations from the glass of the greenhouse were gone. My hands looked immaculate—in fact, they looked even better than they had before the accident. The scars that decorated my fingers and fleshy parts of my palms from years of cutting myself on the farm, either on plants or tools, were erased, replaced with clean, unscarred skin. They looked like the hands of a wealthy person who’d never labored a day in his life.
“How . . . ,” I turned my hands over in disbelief. “How is this possible?”
“Caenum, I . . . ,” Dreya began, reaching out for my hands.
All at once, the air grew horribly cold, and the faint sounds of scurrying echoed through the woods—animals rushing toward, or away from, something. I could see my breath in thick, white clouds, similar to the sort of smoke that floated from Kenzi whenever he used his lightning. I started shivering, my ratty jacket not providing much warmth against—I gasped, horrified, as thick white flakes began to blanket the surrounding woods, coming at us in a solid sheet. Up above, dark gray clouds made their way in our direction, covering the bright blue sky.
It had come out of nowhere.
Like it did every single year.
The Glacialis.
“Grab the bags!” I called over the growing roar. “We’ve got to find shelter!” We scrambled for our satchels, tossing in our remaining supplies, and slung them over our shoulders. A thin blanket of snow extinguished the fire.
Kenzi’s eyes went wide.
“The cave!” he shouted, the gusts of wind almost muting his voice. His eyes were full of panic. “I don’t know which way it is! Everything looks the same!”
“Blast some trees!” Dreya yelled.
At this, Kenzi turned on his heel and held up his hands, his whole body shivering. I’d never been outside during the Glacialis before. I don’t think I knew anyone who had. No one was foolish enough to brave this mad weather. There would be no lull in the freezing air. No calm during the storm.
And if Kenzi couldn’t find the cave, there would be no place to hide.
With his hands pointed toward the sky, the red-stained bandages still wrapped around his palms, his hands started to glow. He roared, and a ball of energy materialized, the bandages catching fire and fluttering away from his body.
With resounding cracks, Kenzi shot bolts of lightning through the woods, sending long white rippling energy blasts through the trees. The splintered wood glowed in the solid white, lighting up pathways through the wilderness.
The light from his Ink reflected off the snow in front of him, so brilliantly that I had to squint a little. “I found it! Let’s move!” He sent another blast of lightning along the path, clearing out the snow and showing us the way as he ran toward the cave at the end of the downed trees.
It didn’t take long to gather up some dried-out branches to light a small fire inside the cave. Oddly enough, there seemed to be a lot of firewood scattered about the dank, small space. For a shelter it wasn’t much, but it would do until the Glacialis passed.
“E-everyone okay?” I ventured through chattering teeth, warming myself. Kenzi sat on the opposite side, seemingly unaffected by the cold.
I sighed and kicked off my shoes, placing them closer to the fire, in hopes they might dry over the course of the night. The heat felt good on my feet, and quickly dried my socks, which had gone from a dark gray to an almost black color from the dirt mixing with the water. I wiggled my toes in them and Kenzi made a face at me from across the flames. We both smiled at each other. Gross.
Dreya, however, continued to shiver. While her jacket warmed by the fire, her thick underclothes weren’t even close to drying.
“Dreya?” I said warmly. “Dreya I . . . ,” I stammered. “I think you’re going to have to get out of those clothes for them to dry.”
The awkward silence hung there for a few seconds, and I felt my face flushing red. Why hadn’t I brought up something else? I looked over at Kenzi, who seemed to be struggling not to laugh. I glared at him and he shrugged, a grin creeping over his face. He gave an exaggerated pout and turned around.
She peeled her shirt off awkwardly, water clinging to her skin. Her naked back to me, she tossed the shirt next to the fire, and grasped for her jacket, pulling it around her as she kicked off her skirt, leaving them at the edge of the flames. Kenzi peeked over, his expression asking if it was okay to turn back around, and I nodded. A gentleman after all.
She closed her eyes and nestled herself in my arms, her long legs slipping out from under the thick jacket. I heard Kenzi’s sharp intake of breath.
Then I saw it.
The vines and flowers that twirled their way up Dreya’s legs were drying up. Their leaves were turning brown and the bright petals on her flowers were falling, tumbling away and dissipating. I gasped and my heart raced. Usually Ink faded like that when the bearer was actually dying. I grasped one of Dreya’s arms and felt for her wrist. She was fine, her pulse was normal, and I could feel her breathing against me. What was going on?
And it hit me.
The Glacialis.
Last year, Dreya’s Inked flowers and vines faded slowly, the way many of the plants did within her family’s greenhouse, shedding their leaves and vibrant colors naturally. But this time, we’d been outside. Instead of slowly fading away, vanishing little by little the way similar plants do in nature, her Inked flowers were just falling to pieces.
Kenzi mouthed at me, silently. What do we do?
I shrugged and widened my eyes, not saying anything.
I had no idea.
My family was gone, Dreya’s gone, and Kenzi’s . . . did he have a family waiting for him?
Would he be taken back by the people of his town, now that he looked so wildly different? The white hair, the black eyes, no longer a Scribe, but something else entirely? What about the red-haired man that got taken away by the wagons?
I nudged at the fire with my foot, pressing a socked toe against one of the rocks near the flame, and pulling it away immediately. The brief, intense burning felt good.
I sighed and looked back up at Kenzi.
“Kenzi, do—” I started.
He held up a finger, his eyes wide. At first, I thought this was his way of telling me to shut up. And then I realized he was listening to something, his eyes darting to the entrance of the cave. I heard it too.
Voices.
Muffled by the howls of the wind, they were barely audible, loud whispers somewhere outside, but clearly the people were angry. A surge of panic rushed through me.
I made a motion to stand up, to move away from Dreya, when Kenzi shook his head. I scrambled to my feet, laying Dreya out on the floor. Kenzi stood up too, and his eyes flashed white for a moment as he glared at me.
Go ahead, I mouthed, my eyebrows furrowed, a scowl on my face. If there was a threat waiting for us outside that cave, I had no doubt Kenzi could handle it. And I was ready to take my crossbow, and join him.
But before I could, Dreya let loose a scream that echoed through the cave. She was wide awake and grasping frantically at her legs, her dark-green vines now brittle and frail. The bright flowers that once peeked out from between the tendrils were drooped sadly, their petals tinted brown, fluttering off as Dreya thrashed.
I knelt by her side and put my arms around her. “Dreya,” I whispered urgently in her ear, “it’s okay, you’re going to be okay, it’s just the Ink, it’s just—”
“In here!” a loud, masculine voice boomed from outside, much closer. “I know I heard something.”
“Look, there’s a fire!” growled another.
The sound of heavy boots crunching through snow made their way toward the cave, outlines of shadows pouring in through the entrance. There was nowhere to go.
I held Dreya tightly and watched as Kenzi’s eyes went white. He thrust his hands out to the side, small balls of electricity illuminating in his palms. He glanced at me and winked.
Get ready, he mouthed.
I tossed supplies into our satchels and hurriedly put my boots on. Even if Kenzi did manage to knock out whoever was coming after us, we’d still be leaving this cave, going out into the Glacialis. Dreya slowly pulled on clothing.
The shadows had stopped at the front of the cave, a light flickering from outside, soft muttering accompanying the roar of the Glacialis winds.
I heard the loud crunch of snow, the sound of one person moving forward. The light shining in moved to and fro, sending the dark shadows in and out of the cave, bigger and smaller.
“No normal citizen of the Realm could survive in this! Give yourself up now, Conduit,” snarled the voice. “Come peacefully, and we won’t have to kill you.”
“Last chance!” called the rough voice from outside, the lantern light swinging once again in and out of the cave. “Give yourself up, and we won’t have to—”
“NO!” Kenzi roared, his voice echoing through the cave. Kenzi held his hands up in the air and the glowing orbs expanded even more, crackling and sending light in all directions. He arched his back and readied his arm to throw one of the energy blasts.
And then a brass bolo shot out from the entrance of the cave and wrapped itself around his legs. Kenzi hit the ground, hard. Another, right before he fell, wrapped over his arms. The white glow from his eyes went out immediately, the charges in his hand extinguished. He writhed on the hard cave floor, squirming like an injured snake.
“What is happening?” he screamed, twisting and turning. “I can’t do it!” The brass balls attached to the bolos gave off a faint pulse. In the firelight, I could see runes etched into them, glowing softly.
“That’s right, you can’t,” said the thick, manly voice as its owner entered the cave. “Them there is Magic Dampeners. So don’t even bother.”
Despite the fact that Kenzi was tied up and struggling on the floor, I felt a brief moment of relief. He had a thick auburn beard, untrimmed and bedraggled. Instead of the deep burgundy cloaks I’d seen Guards from the Citadel wear in the winter, this man was in thick animal furs. The pelts looked as though they were only attached to him by an assortment of leather belts.
“What did you do to him?” I shouted, aiming my crossbow at the bearded man. He didn’t flinch, sizing me up.
“Take the girl and the Conduit,” he said, and then waved a hand in my direction, casually, as if he’d done this a thousand times. “Kill the hero.” Some of the men started toward us and I lifted the crossbow even higher, aimed right at the bearded man.
“I won’t let you have her!” I screamed, the tip of the arrow pointed right at the bearded man’s throat. He held a hand up and the advancing men slowed.
“What possible use could the Citadel have for these two scraps?” the bearded man said, nodding at us.
“They’re on the run with a Conduit, Vikash,” said the man who whispered to him earlier, this time, speaking out loud. He looked older, his face tanned like leather, pocked with scars. His voice wasn’t rash and rough like those of his comrades. He sounded educated, like the storytellers and historians back in Frosthaven. “The girl here is Inked, the boy isn’t.” At this I looked down my arms to discover my sleeves were bunched, revealing my naked forearms. I tightened my grip on the crossbow, shaking. “What are an Unprinted boy, an Inked girl, and a Conduit doing out in the middle of the Glacialis?”
“Sounds like the start of a bad joke to me, Tabor!” guffawed one of the other cloaked men. The rest of them laughed heartily until the bearded man, clearly their leader, held up a hand. The laughing stopped, and a small villainous smile lit his face.
“You’re right, Tabor,” said Vikash, nodding at the man, “these are suspicious circumstances.” He looked at the crossbow in my shaking arms and back down at Kenzi. He turned to his crew and nodded. “Wrangle those two pups up, and make sure the Conduit is bound tightly.”
He turned to me and grinned, menacingly. “And no one touches the girl,” he said, his lip curling. “I want her unspoiled for the Citadel Guard.”
“No!” I screamed, lunging forward and pulling the trigger on the crossbow, the arrow aimed at Vikash’s throat.
Click!
Nothing happened.
I fussed with the trigger again, furiously, my eyes fixed on Vikash, his smile widening.
Click-click-click-click-click!
He lumbered over and, pushing Dreya away from me and onto the ground, pulled the crossbow out of my arms. He sent the butt of the bow crashing into my temple. I fell to the floor, stars dancing around my eyes. I tried to push myself up and saw Dreya on the ground, backing away from the men as they approached.
Vikash leered over me, his beard almost in my face, his breath sticky and sour. “Remember to cock the bow next time, boy,” Vikash said as he loomed above. His laugh and the raucous laughs of his comrades shook the cave. He slammed the crossbow down upon my head once more, and darkness overtook me.