one good for another. He wants something from you.”
I shrug. “My rig is unique. Without it, he can’t get where he’s going.”
The corners of Shyne’s lips pull down so far they hang like fangs over his chin. “No,” he says. “That’s not what he wants.” He grabs the top of the staff and gives it a tug. “Come.”
Kyn and I stumble after him, but not into the warmth of the cave. We’re climbing higher.
“Kyn?” I ask, our feet shuffling like a strange four-legged creature, our hands alternating on the pole—his, mine, his, mine. There’s an etching in the stone on one of his knuckles. I hadn’t noticed it before. “Do you trust Mars to do the right thing?”
His hands tighten on the walking stick and his pace quickens. I stumble in my effort to keep up.
“Mars is my best friend. I’ve known him for ten years and in a little more than ten words, a half-naked man has destroyed everything I thought I knew about him.”
My heart falters. “But Lenore? He’ll help me get her back, won’t he?”
Kyn’s eyes close. He’s tired. Hurting.
“Kyn?”
“Mars won’t leave us behind, Sylvi. He needs you.”
“He needs my rig.”
He stops and turns his face to mine, his russet eyes catching the light, the stone on his cheekbone lifting as he narrows them.
“No,” he says. “He needs you.”
CHAPTER 8
I’ve never seen so much twyl. Lenore would faint dead away. She’s been trying to perfect a twyl gum recipe that lasts longer than the Majority’s, but there’s a lot of trying and failing involved and she burns through the flowers quickly. Her meager planters could never produce a crop equal to this.
Here, the blue blossoms push willfully through the snow, a long band of thick clumps that run the length of the mountainside next to my ear. The ledge is so thin, the cliffside so steep, my face and shoulder press deep into the sticky leaves as we trudge forward. Sap smears my face and grabs at my hair, but the very real threat of a drop keeps me wading through them.
Kyn insisted I take the walking stick when the trail shriveled and we were forced into a single row. My legs are feeling better now, probably better than his, given Winter’s help. She’s wrapping my legs and waist tight, straightening my back, her cold fingers keeping me alert.
A quick glance behind me and I see Kyn’s deep in the twyl as well, grasping at the deeply rooted plants, pulling himself along. His curls are damp and pressed to his forehead, his hands shaking. Air whistles through his teeth; his jaw is clenched so tight the joints bulge beneath his ears. Another step and he stumbles. His fingers catch my shoulder as he grabs at the twyl. I throw myself back against the wall, my heart pounding.
“Take the stick,” I say.
He sucks air through his clenched teeth and rests his head against the stone wall. “I’m all right.”
“You look like hell. Take the stick.”
“My ribs are broken, little ice witch. Not my legs. I can walk.”
“I’ll just leave it here then.” I prop the stick against the cliff face and continue forward. It’s a minute before I hear his feet dragging behind me, the dull thud of the stick leading the way.
“Your ribs aren’t broken,” he says. “Why is that, you think?”
“They are,” I say, almost offended, the pain I felt in the cave flashing a dark memory. But my hand slides up, moves slowly over my rib cage and I know they’re not. Nothing about my body is broken. Sore, yes. Tired, certainly. But Winter’s done something for me she hasn’t done for Kyn.
“Believing her lies is one thing, snowflake. Lying to yourself is something else altogether.”
I flick my cheek at him and push forward, leaving him dragging behind. I’m not through walking, not through putting distance between Kyn and myself, but Shyne’s stopped in the middle of the trail, his hunched body blocking my way.
“Here,” he grunts, ducking into a hole set so deep behind the twyl I would have missed it entirely if I’d been here on my own.
I follow, ignoring Winter’s cautions. She’s grown loud as my feet have sped along the cliff-high trail.
NO, she says. NOT HERE.
No good has ever come from ignoring Winter’s pleas, but Kyn’s behind me now, gently nudging me forward with the rod. I kick at it and duck inside after Shyne.
Winter is forgotten entirely when I see what’s before me.
The cave is full of Shiv, their mingled