Now, struggling out of bed, I coughed up a mass of phlegm into an old rag, and she pushed a waterskin into my hand.
“Drink deep.”
I did, until I could speak. “What’s going on? Does he want me again?”
Oh please, let it be something else,
I breathed softly.
Hanna sucked in a deep breath, kneeling by my side. “I think I may be able to get you out of here. Hyto flew off not an hour ago, hunting for his dinner. When he hunts, he’s always gone for a good day, sometimes two. I will help you. You may not make it, but it’s better than staying and letting him eat you up. He was so terribly angry. I don’t think you’ll survive another bout.”
She shoved thick clothes into my arms, linen and fur, and a pair of fur-lined boots made out of leather. “I cannot allow myself to take my part in his crimes anymore. I’ll never see Valhalla, but perhaps I can redeem myself in the eyes of the gods.”
“What about your son?” I asked, but then something made me look over at the cage. Her son was there, but slumped over. I knew he wasn’t sleeping.
“Oh, Hanna . . .”
“Hyto tortured him to torture me and keep me in line. I told you, my son’s been locked up for five years—never once has he been allowed out of the cage. He turned into a wild child. Gone quite feral. I tried to keep him sane, tried to talk to him, but he had no release, no chance to stretch, to move his body. He was able to lie flat, but he hasn’t had a chance to stand free since the Master brought us here.”
She pressed her knuckles against her lips. “I’ve been selfish. When I brought you back tonight, I looked at my son and realized that he’s no longer here. His life has been horrific. He . . . he lost his mind somewhere along the way. That’s no way to live, and there’s no chance to free him. I realize that now. So I finally decided to do the only thing I could. The only thing a good mother could.” She caught my gaze, the pain in her face too much to witness.
“Couldn’t we have broken the cage open?” The fact that she’d killed her son shook me to the core, but then she put her arm on mine.
“Do not think I killed my son for you. The cage . . . it is magically enchanted. Over the years I’ve tried everything I could think of, but it won’t open, it won’t break. Dragon magic is tricky and dangerous. And my son . . . he was lost to me several years ago. I’ve made sure he’s fed and I sing to him and talk to him . . . but he hears only the sound of my voice, not my words. He retreated into his mind. There was nothing left of the boy I gave birth to save for an empty shell. I gave him a sleeping draught that put him to sleep forever. And then, I sang him to sleep one last time.” Tears clogged her throat and she let out a strangled cry and buried her head in her hands. I wrapped her in my arms, holding her until she forced herself to sit straight again.
She let out a shuddering breath. “It was too late for Kjell, but not for you. Whatever it takes to get you out of here, I will do. I don’t care about myself. My son is beyond Hyto’s reach, safe with his father.”
There was no debate. Smoky and the others might be on the way, but it was only a matter of time before Hyto lost control and killed me. He was too angry. As much as he wanted to torture Smoky by ripping me apart in front of my husband, he didn’t have as much self-control as he liked to believe. Most sociopaths lost it at some point, and he was a dragon on the edge.
My body protested, but I forced myself to my feet. “Let’s go. You must come with me. I need your help and I can’t leave you here.”
She nodded. “My son no longer needs me to protect him. He has gone to his ancestors, I hope. And perhaps, I will redeem myself in the eyes of Thor and Frejya.”
“May I say a few words for him?”
“I would be honored if you did, Priestess.”
Putting her arm around my waist, she helped me over to the cage, and I stared at the slack body, tears running down my face. He’d never had a chance. He was of an age to take a wife now, but he’d never wed, never prove himself in battle, never grow into whatever he might have become. And the fault lay directly at Hyto’s feet.
I reached into the cage, placed my hands on the cool body. Biting my lip, I breathed long and slow, trying to ignore my own pain. And then, lowering myself into trance, I felt for the Moon Mother, sought her presence. She swept over me, for a moment took away my discomfort as I whispered our prayer for the dead.
“What was life has crumbled. What was form, now falls away. Mortal chains unbind and the soul is lifted free. May you find your way to the ancestors. May you find your path to the gods. May your bravery and courage be remembered in song and story. May your parents be proud, and may your children carry your birthright. Sleep, and wander no more.”
Making the sign that signified the Trail of the Dead, I let out another long breath and turned around. Hanna was crying, silently, but she managed a pained smile as she led me over to the table, where we both washed our hands.
She shoved a sturdy crust of bread into my hands, spread with cheese. A thick shard of jerky sat beside the plate, and a bowl of broth. I quickly ate and slurped down the soup while she slathered me in ointments again.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, feeling numb inside.
“You’ll need it. The weather outside is brutal.”
“I know. I’ve been out there before. I also know that life around Hyto is far worse. I’d rather die in the snow. I don’t trust him to keep me alive until his son gets here. He went apeshit on me, but he could have been far worse. And next time . . .”
“Here—put these on.” She shook out the undergarments, trousers, shirt, and robe she’d shoved into my hands earlier. I slid into the clothes, wincing as the rough material brushed against all the bruises and abrasions covering my body.
While I was getting dressed, Hanna yanked out a couple of rucksacks she had filled with food and water and other things I could not see. I finished dressing and looked around for anything that might make a useful weapon. I had my magic, but it would be nice to have something sharp and pointy in my hands. She noticed what I was doing.
“You won’t find any weapons.” She shook her head. “Not here—except for the butchering knives. We’ll take those. Hyto didn’t consider them a threat in my hands, I suppose.” She handed me a clean thick-bladed knife, wicked sharp and heavy. I slid it through the belt holding the fur vest I’d donned together in front.
“We should go. How long does he usually stay out to feed?”
“Sometimes all day; other times he returns faster. I think we’ve got about everything we can handle. Here—drape this around you.” She wrapped a heavy white fur cloak around my shoulders, an animal hide with armholes slit in it. The warmth would help keep me alive. Hanna was similarly dressed.
“What about the collar? Can he track me through it?”
“Probably, but I can’t take it off. His magic is too strong.” She picked up a walking stick and handed it to me, then found another sturdy length of wood for herself. “I think we’re ready. Let us get out of here.”
With one last look at Hyto’s secret lair, I followed her into the maze of tunnels. I’d never come back here alive—even if I had to kill myself to prevent it.
We wound through the stone passages until we came to an exit, which I was surprised to see was
not
the main entrance. The cave opening overlooked a steep path heading directly down the mountain. I glanced around and caught sight of what I was now positive were the Skirts of Hel—the glacial sheets near Howl’s hideout.
“We have to make for there. I am friends with—”
“Yes, you told me. Lord Howl. If you are telling the truth, then we may actually have a chance, but we have to keep to the shadows as much as we can. The Master . . . Hyto . . .” Her tongue rolled over the name like an unfamiliar cavity, newly discovered and unwelcome. “Hyto will return from the air, flying, and if he should see us in the snow, he’ll fry us to crisps.”
“That’s why the white fur? Camouflage?”
“Easier to hide in the snow, yes. So keep the hood over your hair—it’s dark and shows easily against the white. Dragon eyes are keen. Dragon sight is clear. Even when the dragon is mad. And there are other dangers—”
“Trolls, ice spiders . . . I know.”
“So many creatures up here, and so little food.” Hanna nodded, then stepped out into the snow, sinking to her ankles. “The snow has compacted through the winter, but the fresh fall is atop of it and so going will not be easy.”
I followed her, my muscles protesting every move I made. But anything was better than waiting in that stinking cavern for Hyto to return. The fur boots she’d fashioned for me were actually quite warm, and I thought that if I should get out of this and ever have to return to the Northlands—something I wasn’t planning on—I’d go native with my outfit.
We struggled down the path as fast as we could. Slipping and sliding, we barreled our way away from the cave, leaving a veil of fine powder in our wake. The snow had fallen again during the night and beneath the new inches was hardened crust, so we only sank up to our ankles.
Keeping to the cover of the scrub trees—high-altitude pines and firs that were windblown, growing at a slant—Hanna and I slowed. The grade was growing steeper as we made our way down the mountainside, and the air bone-jarring. Every breath I took hurt my lungs and made my bruises ache, but now that we were out of the cave, I knew I couldn’t go back.
An hour or so later, I motioned to Hanna to stop. As we’d gone along, I noticed that the mountain pines in the Northlands bore sharp needles, and they were strongly scented, reminding me of blue spruce. Strong scent was good—it would help to hide our own perfume. Being dragon, Hyto had a hypersensitivity toward fragrance, and anything we could do to confuse him, so much the better. I stripped off a handful of the spiny needles, broke them, then rubbed them over my face and hands, wincing as they pricked my skin. Hanna nodded, getting the idea, and did the same. The pitch stuck to my cheeks, but I didn’t care. Anything to help keep Mr. Big Bad Dragon away.
A blast of icy wind came gusting down the slope, sending snow everywhere. I gasped as the gust caught my breath and yanked it from my lungs. Leaning against the trunk of the pine, I forced myself to breathe deeply, slowly, until I felt able to continue.
Hanna led me off the main path, which seemed dangerous, but we didn’t dare hike around in plain sight. Even in camouflage, we could easily be seen from the air. I was just amazed we’d managed to come this far without being caught or keeling over from the freezing temperatures.
Another half hour struggling through the snow and she motioned for me to crawl under one of the trees with her, where there was some protection from the wind. As I pushed my way under the low-hanging branches of the scrub, I happened to glance up the mountain. The cave entrance was still visible, but just a tiny speck against the vast sea of white.
Hanna and I huddled together for warmth as she fumbled around in the folds of her cape, pulling out a thick roll with a slab of cheese. She broke the sandwich in half and handed me my share.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my throat raw from the air. The bread was dry and hard but I forced it down anyway, taking sips from my waterskin. I followed her lead. After drinking freely, I packed snow in the skin to melt for new water.
“No worry, Camille. We’ll need a lot of food. We have a long way to go to reach any sort of safety, and I truly don’t know if we’ll make it, but we may be able to reach the Skirts of Hel by morning. We may have to bivouac for the night down lower. I’d stay under the trees, but there is one danger in that.” She gave me a long look, as if deciding whether to spill bad news.
But I had far too good an imagination. “Let me guess: Hyto gets home, finds us gone, and decides we’re hiding out in the trees, so he decides to burn every stand from the top of the mountain on down.”
She blinked. “Yes, that was my fear. I didn’t want to worry you, however.”
I bit my lip, not wanting to say too much. “Back Earthside . . . where I’m staying . . . we are facing a danger far worse than Hyto. Trust me, if it’s big, bad, and possible, I’ve imagined it.” I stared at the vast swath of sloping snow fields that spread out below us. “If he does decide to burn the woods, surely we’ll know what’s going on before he hits us. At worst, he catches us again. And frankly, considering what he could cook up for that, I’d rather die in a forest fire, I think.”
Hanna bit her lip. “Yes, you are right about that. If he captures us, he’ll just kill me, but you . . .”
“I know.” I whispered. “I know.” The pain he’d already inflicted had been bad, but even I knew it could be far worse.
“Come, finish your meal and let’s be off again. The sooner we reach the glacial fields, the sooner we can make our way across to your Wolf Lord friend.” She held out her hand and yanked me up. The bruises on my back and thighs screamed in protest, but I bit my lip. Hanna had given everything to help me escape. I wasn’t about to bemoan my own state.
Over the rest of the day, we managed to elude any sign of Hyto, and the weather stood with us. We reached the bottom of the snow field where it evened out before heading into the Skirts of Hel by dusk, and I wanted nothing more than to keep going, but one wrong turn on the rocks and we’d have a broken leg, or worse. We found an outcropping of boulders and huddled behind them, trying to brave the winds the best we could.
Hanna suggested building up the snow on either side to block the wind, so we managed to find two boulders with enough room between them where we could stretch out. We packed snow around the entire fort, smoothing the sides to look like drifts. We couldn’t do much about being seen from the sky, but with our cloaks and the darkness, there was a fair shot that Hyto wouldn’t be able to spot us.
We took turns guarding each other as we stepped outside the snow fort to relieve ourselves, and then we spread out our cloaks and snuggled beneath them to generate as much warmth as we could. We didn’t dare build a fire, but the snow packed around the sides sheltered us from the worst of the wind, and if we lay facing each other, we were warmed by each other’s breath.