Thread of Frost

Ch. 50: Brace Yourself

Isolde leaned back against the cave wall.

The fire warmed the stone. Outside, the winter wind ripped through evergreen trees, scattering needles across the snow. Penny leaned closer to the flames; the other girl's cheeks were flushed, her green eyes the colour of peppermint. Julian and Grayson — the latter of whom was holding a large sword — spoke in quiet murmurs.

Isolde held up her hands to the fire.

Two months ago, Isolde thought, she could have never imagined this. Sitting in a cave with a dethroned princess, a Wynterlynnish nobleman, and the emperor's cousin, examining a mythical sword that could kill gods.

And yet.

"What changed your mind?" Penny asked.

Isolde looked up. Penny's copper lashes looked almost translucent in the firelight, but her gaze was steady. Isolde didn't need to ask what she meant.

"Halson gassed the museum," Isolde said.

Penny's mouth tightened. "Bo? Rosie?"

Isolde shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Penny asked.

Isolde's throat felt raw. "I've seen nightmare somnium before. Nobody could have survived an unexpected attack like this. And we saw guards." She glanced at Julian. "They were dragging bodies out of the tunnel."

Penny exhaled. "I'm sorry."

"It's my fault," Isolde said.

Julian looked up sharply. "That's not true."

"I pushed him too hard." Isolde looked at her hands. "I thought I could change things."

Grayson leaned forward. "How did you escape?"

Isolde looked away. The memories came back again: Halson's hands on her body; Halson's hot breath on her neck. She could hear his hoarse words, burrowing into her ear like a parasite. I like it when you struggle.

"Are you sure that thing's real?" Julian asked.

He was looking at Grayson, who was holding the sword. If the other boy was surprised by the sudden change in subject, he had the decency not to show it. "I bloody well hope so," Grayson said. "I almost drowned in an acidic lake to get it."

"Don't forget the death slide," Penny said solemnly.

Grayson clicked his fingers. "And the hallucinations."

"And the pancaking room," Penny added.

Isolde stared. "The what?"

"Oh," Grayson said. "The walls just sort of..."

He trailed off, making a clapping motion with his hands. Julian shot to his feet.

"Wait," Julian said.

His voice was sharp. His blue eyes were fixed on the cave entrance. He ought to look ridiculous, Isolde thought, half-crouched under the low ceiling, but there was something about his expression that made her heart speed up.

"Can anyone else hear that?" Julian asked, his voice low.

Isolde closed her eyes.

She could hear the crackle of flames and the howl of the wind. But wait — there. Isolde could hear something crunching in the snow outside the cave. A set of footsteps. No, Isolde realized, her heart hammering; at least three sets of footsteps.

Isolde's mouth felt dry. "Halson."

She rose. Penny muttered a curse, hastily shovelling snow on to the fire. The cave plunged into darkness; the only noise was the hiss of the dying fire and their ragged breathing. Julian shifted closer.