Talvi

PROLOGUE

The wind was brutal as she stepped through the mouth of the cave. The night was dark, and the wind howled and whistled, dislodging snow from the cliff above. Spears of ice grew towards the ground from the ceiling, lethal and immense. The moon hung low and full in the sky, bright despite the flurry in its wake; it was massive and a great deal closer to her world than she was accustomed to.

Her cheeks stung and she pulled her furs tighter around her face. The moon was nearly too bright for her to stand. An eagle screeched, circling above her. Above her was a wall of ice and rock, sheer and great, and below, another cliff that promised death if she stepped a little too close to the ledge.

The opening to her cave was a slice through the face of the stone and ice, jagged, natural, and difficult to find as well as treacherous to reach. Her breath was clearly visible. The recent storm covered the trail across the ledge and down the steep face of the treacherous mountain, but this fact did little to deter her. She pressed her front to the wall, and with her arms, braced herself and pulled in close to avoid tangling with the wind.

She stood with her feet shoulder width apart and slinked across the ledge, mindful that portions underfoot could be weak. Her heart jumped into her throat when her foot dislodged rock, but she remained calm and shifted her weight. Not daring to look down, she allowed her instincts to guide her safely across the treacherous precipice. It was only a short while before the steep incline levelled out around her to make room for the icy shelf where massive black trees flourished, adorned with needles like obsidian and leaves of navy blue.

She jumped from one ice shelf to another, descending several feet at a time. Her brothers always joked she was a goat in her prior life. She'd left the cave without their knowledge, hoping to get some air and escape their plans for her while she was at it. It was not her. Her brother would be unsuccessful marrying her off to a man with the strength of a bear, let alone the witless fool he presented her with. The man had had silver eyes and skin so pale, she could have mistaken him for a corpse. Over her dead body.

Risking a glance behind her, she saw no signs of pursuit. The darkness now shrouded her, and among the cluster of winter trees, her furs concealed her. She had a bow and quiver slung over her shoulder and around her back, and knives strapped at her wide hips with a hide belt, cinched tightly.

She took to the wind, though silently as she darted from tree to tree, paying mind to keep a long stride and stay below the trees; she was not the only creature with excellent night vision, and the trees watched her as much as the eagle did above her.

In the trees beyond, she could see light. It was not the cursed light of dawn, but the light from a fire; whether to warm frigid flesh, cook a meal, or to burn the dead she did not know. There were black shapes in front of the fire and though she could not say for sure, she guessed they were men from Grayholde. She did not want to find out and ensured her path veered far from the West. Her path, instead, was to the East, where her hidden place was. She'd be safe there to stow her things and then disappear. She refused to be cornered.

The trunks of the winter trees spanned wider than her arms and she held no hope of scaling them should she run into trouble. The needles hung low and if she wasn't careful, they'd aid in the loss of her eyes, eyes that were both beautiful and essential. The sap appeared to be glowing dark blue as the tree's blood seeped through holes in the thick, black bark. The trees were sticky with sap in summer but served as frozen lamps come winter as they froze mid-trickle. The trees grew in tight clusters, though there was a dusting of snow where they grew more sparsely.

The wind could not venture into the thicket, though she'd need the cold, white expanse of nothing before long. The forest was alive, even now during the long nights, with eagles and bears and wolves that never slept. Even the trees gently rustled with slow breath. The eagle screeched, a high-pitched, terrible sound. It was following her.

Her toes were becoming numb, her cheeks were burning from cold, and her fingers throbbed as she clenched and unclenched them, keeping blood moving. Her hair had come loose from the furs, and it fell into her eyes tangled and wild. Her eyes watered and her ears screamed for warmth. Despite the cold, she was sweating. Her skin prickled at the assault of hot and cold. Her breaths soon became pants as her lungs fought to keep up with the rest of her. She could feel eyes watching her and she prayed that it was only animals she needed to contend with.

Before long, she was at the edge of the forest. The eagle was perched on a lone tree overlooking the valley where the blood river curled and collected at the foot of the mountain before draining to the southwest. She could feel its eyes on her and she glared up at it defiantly, knowing it could see every movement she made. The eagle seemed to sense her wroth because it unfurled its wings and flew out of sight.

Breathing deeply, she trudged forth through the snow and menacing wind. Peeking up from behind the peaks in the distance was a red glow, the coming of dawn, and she knew she had to hurry, or she was going to be caught.

The blood river in the distance was frozen by night, but should the sun warm the river, she could slip through the soft floor into the crimson water and drown, trapped between water and ice with a terrifying current to drag her away. She did not know why the water was red, only that it came from the red waste, a desolate land to the East.

I won't make it, she thought, watching the distant sun rise slowly but surely. She'd have to hurry if she was to pass the river. She could see the hint of the trail leading to and through the glacier valley by the slight slope of the land. She hastened her pace and began to jog and when the glacier loomed before her, she knew she was nearly there. She needed only to pass the river and sprint for the cover between the parallel walls of the icy corridor.

The wind could not reach her in Boulder Pass, and nor would people follow, as most believed it a dead end. She knew better. At the end of the corridor was a waterfall, near frozen now, though not impossible to pass through. There was a small hole in the icy floor where water fell heavy from the top of the glacier hundreds of feet above it, but if you sidestepped behind it quickly, there was still water that made way for a beach enclosed in a cave. Beyond were caverns mostly unexplored.

The blood river appeared solid enough. She carefully edged forth keeping her weight on her back leg as the other tested and prodded ahead. The river was not wide, only about twenty feet across at this point, but the waters were swift, freezing, strong, and just deep enough that her feet would not find a purchase below.

Possible death or marriage, she mused. She snorted out loud and proceeded to venture further across the ice. Possible death it is.

She stilled as a loud crack sounded below her. It echoed and continued to the point that she dared not breathe. She did not bother with a prayer as she watched the ice split below her foot. The shifting of the ice was unbelievably loud as red tendrils of water lapped over the ice turning it pink. Her balance waned as the piece she stood on broke off from the body and she braced herself for the treacherous cold.

She took a deep breath as the piece broke beneath her, and she plunged through the hole in the ice.