The temperature dropped like a stone. A frozen cold descended on the scene, so close and sudden, it lifted all the hairs on the back of her neck. Kodanh’s power flooded through her, flashes of him shivering into her mind—the strong, jagged frills that rose from his neck, the darts of ice-blue that threaded the rough scales of his torso like glacial cracks, the great talons of his feet biting and scratching deep into his ice-cave home.

And his eyes—pale and hard; a murky, frozen white. Snow blind, her mother had called them once, though that was inaccurate.

His mind was full of ice and rock, of cold caverns in a northern tundra. Caves and crevasses, and water crystals so chilled, they could freeze a person through in minutes.

She let the cold flow through her. Then she drew it out, shaped it, and threw it out to the sky.

The nearest birds dropped like rocks, making grotesque cracking and squelching sounds as they landed, half-frozen, on the slope below. Frost slashed away from them in feathered bands, Kodanh’s power rooting into the ground. Another bird dove for her. She stabbed at its chest, felt her blade hit ice, turned her strike into a spin.

Power slid in through her runes, released into the world around her. It flew, producing more streaks of frost on the rocks.

But, already, the connection was faltering.

She sprinted for the door. “Go, go, go! Get inside!”

More birds dove at her as she moved. Matteo fired on a few ahead, forcing them to drop or veer. The sour smell of demon blood rose. She stumbled on the stair, knuckles smacking hard into the rock. Up the mountain, white flashed like magnesium bursts, lighting a thick vein several meters deep into its side. Above, the flock seemed to twist and undulate. Raucous cawing filled the air.

Gods, how were there so many of them? Had the entire mountain come calling? Maybe they were like crows, that way.

Caracel stopped at the entrance to the cavern, and a shot of adrenaline spiked through her—Temdin’s light, was it a dead end?—but he only helped Doneil and Matteo get inside, his sword slashing at a bird that tried to attack.

Seeing her, he hesitated.

She made a violent gesture with her blade, a shout gasping through her throat. “Move!”

He took the hint, ducking in only paces ahead of her as she pounded up the rocky trail.

She skidded in, already pulling on Kodanh’s power. Pain roared through her shoulder as the connection faded. She bit it back, gritting her teeth as light flashed again and illuminated the view of the sky outside.

Hundred of birds raced for them, grotesque forms flying with a surprising agility, all heading for the crevasse.

She tugged on Kodanh, made a gesture with her hand.

With a distinct click, the magic took.

Spears of ice slammed across the entrance. She strained harder, growling through her teeth at the burn, stabbed several more down, and worked to build webs of ice between them. Her arm was on fire. Pain lanced from shoulder to sternum—Kodanh, taking his payment in energy and a taste of blood—but she kept one eye on the door, letting the magic flow through her to seal off the entrance.

She filled the space with more than a half foot of ice.

The sounds from outside became muffled. Birds thumped at the barrier, their talons scraping over its surface, but it sounded like they were in a different world. Their shadows played a shivering pattern on the surface, masked by frost, the light still casting a strobing glow over the mountain.

Then, that glow died. And with it, her magic.

The pain redoubled in her shoulder. She yelled and hunched over, putting a death grip on the hilts of her blades as the sound turned into a low, throaty hiss. She bared her canines to the cave. As the connection withdrew, she chased it, focusing as hard as she could on maintaining it even as blood dripped from the wound.

But, despite her efforts, the ice lizard vanished from her thoughts.

Only blood remained. And pain.

She sagged onto the cold ground, the remnants of his power radiating back from the stone. Her breaths became short and sharp, whistling around her bared teeth. Her arms shook.

“Catrin?”

Behind her, Doneil crept close, a soft footfall at her side. The rest of the group was breathing hard, too, but she was the only one on the floor.

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“I’m fine.” She took a breath and rocked back. Her blades made dull metallic clanks on the ground as she picked herself up. “Give me a moment.”

She grunted, hitched herself up, rummaged the light stick from a belt pouch, and cracked it against the stone to activate it. A glow shivered from its end, strengthening as the chemicals mixed.

She sat up and looked around.

They were in a narrow cave, little more than a gash in the side of the mountain. The ceiling tapered above them, its sides sharp and rakish, parts of them wet with run-off. More water trickled off to her back, dribbling in a small waterfall over a large drop-off.

But everyone was there. Matteo stood closest to the entrance, his gun ready in his grip, the red light on its body glowing and active, gawking at the wall of ice that now blocked the entrance. Doneil squatted beside him, looking battered and unkempt, his armor bruised. He held one rnari blade in his hand, blood fresh on the metal. Caracel examined her ice from the back of the cave. The fey was easier to see, at least, standing tall and elegant with his white hair near the wall. His body was scratched and hard-won from the battle, and a fresh wound caught the skin just under his shoulder armor, seeping more blood into his clothing.

After a minute, the muffled scrapes and thumps from the demon birds outside stopped.

By the sound of it, most of them had left, cawing and cackling up a storm. Only a couple still scratched at the ice wall.

Guess they only like easy targets.

Either that, or they were circling around for another entrance. Or to alert Grobitzsnak of intruders.

If he didn’t already know.

She groaned and settled back onto her elbows. That was not something she wanted to worry about right now.

“That is Kodanh, isn’t it?” Caracel twitched his head her way. “The great ice snake?”

Lizard, she thought, but she gave him a pass. The fey root word for ‘snake’ had a closer connection to both the fey and elven words for ‘reptile,’ which might explain the slip—plus, anyone that could name Kodanh likely knew what they were talking about.

“Yes.” Her blades flashed. She put the light stick down and wiped them on her thigh armor as best she could before resheathing them. “Why? You know him?”

“No. My grandmother could call on him.” The fey nodded in her direction. “You must be very strong.”

Yes. Yes, she was. Though Kodanh took quite a lot of her power—he was an exclusionist, leaving little room for other spells.

Still, it was high praise to receive compliments on magic from a fey, especially a heartsworn as himself.

She shrugged it off. “If it keeps working, I will be. If not, I suppose I’ll have to pick up some kimbic tattoos.”

Doneil snorted. “Now that would piss off the Council. I approve.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Really? The Council would continue with mercari spells that no longer work? They can’t be that stupid. They want a functioning army, don’t they?”

“You think they wouldn’t? After all the crap you’ve been through?”

She froze up, shoulders stiff. Anger surfaced, shivered under her skin like a hot, bubbling pit. Her back straightened, mouth opening.

But she shut it again.

This was not the right place for an argument.

“Kodanh is part of the demnir. A… calling, I think you say.” The fey hesitated as he struggled to translate his mother language. He was looking at her oddly, his ink-black eyes intense and focused—as if her new display of power had made him consider her again.

“Probably,” she said, her tone more of a grunt. She stepped her injured side in to Doneil, offering her shoulder to his healing. Golden light flared.

This time, her arm was too numb to feel the weird, crawling sensation of his magic—only the relief. She let out a breath as the pain slipped away, and turned her attention to Matteo.

He’d moved into a crouch, still by the entrance. The red of his firearm flared in the dark like a window to a cooling forge-fire, reflecting off the ice wall beside him. His eyes, openly staring at her, had that strange retinal flash she’d seen before.

Deliberately, she moved her other hand up to her face, tapped at the edge of her eye socket, and tilted her head.

Briefly, a frown passed across his brows—then he understood. He copied her motion, tapping a finger to the bone of his right eye. The flash happened again, slower this time, the surface of his retina catching a brief reflection, then it faded.

She gave a nod.

Beside her, Doneil finished his healing. He let out a breath and shifted. His gaze went to the wall of ice at the entrance.

“Well,” he said. “That was subtle.”

Catrin cringed. The bird’s raucous shrieks could still be heard on the outside. Every so often, one of them would grow close enough to scratch its talons against the ice.

“The entire mountain will know that we are here,” Caracel observed, a grim expression taking his face. His voice was smooth and luxuriant, the elven-fey-Janessi mix he spoke growing easier over time and use.

“Yes. We need to move.”

She met his eyes for a moment, then picked up her light stick and shifted to shine the light farther into the cave. Behind him, the crevasse’s path continued on, leading inward.

Well, that made their decision easy.

“Looks like we’re going that way. Let’s move.”