Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(82)

“What do you think, Ry?” My brother turned to me as the rest of our party stared down at the racing current in the ravine below. “Are we reliving the Combat course all over again?”

For a moment, I was back at the Academy. It was just Alex and me racing across the mountain trail. And then there was Darren, grinning wickedly as he cast a fissure to halt us in our tracks, forcing us to cast our way across.

A stab of feeling shot to my chest before I could blink.

How could we go from the non-heir and the lowborn to this?

I grabbed my arms and squeezed until the sensation was gone. Then I was staring into the wilds of Caltoth, contemplating the best way to cross.

Fifteen minutes later, our party crossed the divide. The ravine was steep, but it couldn’t have been more than ten yards across, hardly a challenge for twelve Combat mages and one healer.

Ella and I levitated across the gap with my brother between us. We had been conserving all of our casting—save heat during the night—so it wasn’t a terrible depletion of our stamina.

As soon as we crossed, the temperature plummeted.

There was also no marked trail. From here on, we had a compass and King Horrace’s map.

Everywhere we looked, frosted pines climbed cresting peaks for miles on end. There was nothing but white and bits of pine green as far as the eye could see. Beautiful, but deadly.

The closer we got to the Glacial Pass, the darker it got. The red sun fell behind the shadowy ridge, and we were forced to make camp at the base of the Caltothian range. From where we stood, I could see a climb with no end in sight.

Quinn said it would take us four days to reach the summit. The overlook was somewhere just beyond it, nestled between glaciers. It looked over the eastern half. The armies were expected below.

Alex shivered as he joined me, clutching a steaming mug in the palms of his hands. “Gods help us scale this thing alive.”

“Scared?” I grinned. He was afraid of heights; he had done well in the Iron Range, but Caltoth was something else entirely.

“Why do you think they gave us that pick?” His skin was sallow and green. “Do they expect us to climb ice?”

Ella was clutching her fur cloak and blowing air into her palms. She shook her head with a smile. “Oh, Alex.”

“What if we fall?” His eyes bulged as he stared into the abyss. “We could die—”

“We could, but this won’t be the place.” Ella wove her fingers into his. “I won’t let you fall, Alex.”

The look they exchanged was enough for me to step away. They deserved this brief moment to themselves; I was more than capable of turning as my brother took Ella’s face in his callused hands, kissing her with a look that promised forever.

I helped the camp with the evening meal.

We boiled bits of bone and a pinch of dried herbs. We’d run through our supply of smoked meats the night before, we were down to a small ration of Borean rice and broth. I passed out the final portion and then set to keeping a fire and watch.

My hands were starting to crack and bleed from the cold, but it wasn’t worth the casting to heal. We needed Alex’s magic for the worse things to come.

Later, I took a post with a young woman I didn’t know. I wanted to give Alex and Ella some time alone.

We kept the flames burning high with our casting, doing our best to heat the others in their rawhide tents. It was a necessary task, but I enjoyed watching the stars. Everything looked so much closer from this side of the border.

It was a gods’ touched land.

As miserable as I was, I appreciated the cold beauty and, in it, its silence.

And then, right as the sky was starting to lighten, I saw them.

Dancing colors. Hues of violet and orange, verdant and a cobalt blue. It was every color shifting across the sky. A rainbow of light. The pattern lasted for ten, twenty minutes.

And then it was over.

When the colors ended, the sun was close to rising, and with it, a new day.

For the first time in weeks, I felt a flutter of hope.





17





The pass might as well have been an army waiting in ambush. For three days we climbed, higher and higher until it was near impossible to breathe. The air was so thin. It felt like there was never enough.

Two of the men were sick. They did their best to carry on, but between their nausea and the rest of our headaches, it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

Ella and some of the others were getting dizzy. It was dangerous. We were on unstable ground, and all it would take was one slip of the boot…

More than once we had to retrace our steps.

Quinn claimed all of this was expected, but it still didn’t take away the effects.

With the leather trappings attached to our boots, we were making miserable time. For every three steps, we needed to rest. My lungs worked twice as hard just to take in the same amount of air. We had enough water—thank the gods for the abundance of snow—but the broth was doing little to fill the pits of our stomachs. The Borean rice was gone by the end of the second night.

None of us would ever make it back the way we came; the eastern pass was our only bet to make it down alive.

No one was talking by the third afternoon. That night, when we finally reached the first crest, the elation was as palpable as despair. There was a wall of ice, and it was time for the picks in our packs.