Fall of the Spectrum

Chapter Seventeen, Part One

Phenex looked around at the group, casting his gaze first from Hermes to Jev, then to Niv, and finishing with Gilgamesh—the commander of the Sixth Unit gazing calmly back at him with sharp blue eyes. Five other, lower-ranking operatives accompanied them, the rest of the Sixth Unit left to attend things back at their base deep within the heart of the Ethereal Forest.

In spite of being of lower rank, the operatives chosen for the expedition had been chosen for a reason. If they weren't some manner of mythical creature—like Jev, the young satyr standing silently at his elbow—they were at least well versed in communicating with mythical creatures.

Having arrived in Gelida Vix only short moments ago—the continent best known for its Glacial Plains—Phenex was already in something of a pessimistic mood. The blizzard that had been raging the moment they had set foot beyond the Mrazian Border certainly wasn't helping matters, and he couldn't help wondering if Boreas had added his own winds to the ones currently howling around them.

Of all the places to start, it just had to be here, in the middle of a goddamned snowstorm, Phenex thought bitterly, coaxing flames to the palms of his hands and then letting the fire spread across his shoulders. Hot as the flames were, they did little to distill the chill in the air. With a sigh of resignation, he tugged at the collar of his jacket so that it sat higher around his neck.

Shivering when an eddy of flurries suddenly blew into one ear, he glowered at Hermes, though he might as well have been glaring at a marble statue for all the effect it had. Hermes lifted one foot in front of the other, slogging through the knee-deep snow with his head lowered against the wind, the subtle trembling of his shoulders filling Phenex with grim satisfaction. If he had to suffer, then he'd be damned if he felt an ounce of sympathy for Hermes, considering that coming to Boreas first had been his idea.

Even with his feather-lined windbreaker and knee-high, furred boots, the messenger god still could barely move for trembling. As he looked back at the others, Phenex realized they weren't doing much better—save for Niv, of course. The Pari had a heated core equal to his own, albeit smaller, considering she was only three inches tall.

Everyone else looked completely miserable.

Though he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't, Phenex couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy on their behalf. Sighing, he caught Hermes' attention with a silent gesture, and the two of them set to work; carefully maneuvering the operatives so that they were gathered around Phenex, throwing off as much heat as he could without his flames burning them. With how strongly the wind howled, this was something of a challenge. The flames flickered wildly every which way, nearly setting Jev's fur on fire before everyone finally wised up, putting a couple inches of distance between Phenex and themselves. In Niv's case, this involved being carried by Jev, cupped in the safety of the satyr's hands to keep from being blown away by the ill-tempered wind.

Once both had been accomplished, they trudged on, Phenex gritting his teeth as the boots Hermes had provided him with slipped through the snow, the flames covering his body the only reason he wasn't freezing from where the snow had soaked into the knees of his jeans.

It was as they crested the last, snowy slope that he spotted it in the distance: A gigantic ice castle sitting atop a mountainous peak. Thick walls of ice and snow surrounded it, a series of bridges and walkways running along the parapets. Even from this distance and with the snow swirling in front of his eyes, Phenex could see the uppermost turrets, disappearing high above the clouds.

Hermes came to a stop beside him, turning around to face the others. "All right, listen up."

The operatives stood motionless, arms crossed over their chests to keep warm, staring expectantly at him with a mixture of curiosity and impatience.