Winter, White and Wicked - Shannon Dittemore Page 0,39
up and into the snowbank, fighting my way forward, while next to me Kyn shakes his head and offers me his hand when my leg sinks so far into the fresh powder I can’t tug it out on my own.
“Thank you,” I say. “Your ribs . . .”
“I’ll survive. The cold air feels nice.”
“Thank Winter,” I say.
He bristles. “I’ll thank you instead.”
“Is it stubbornness or your Shiv forebears that won’t let you thank a spirit that offered you comfort when you were hurt?”
He’s quiet for a moment. And then: “Shyne is crazy.”
“Thank you, yes. He’s out of his mind.”
“Maybe. Probably.”
My leg free, I push forward and Kyn catches my wrist. “Your arm should be in two pieces.”
I look down, remember the painful strike of the walking stick, the shattered ice of the elder’s hand.
“I don’t have an answer, Kyn. I don’t know why your ribs broke and mine didn’t. I don’t know why my arm is still in one piece. Why she offered you relief. Winter’s good to me. I’ve never asked it of her.”
It’s more than I’ve ever admitted about Winter and guilt seeps in. Why does it feel like I’ve broken a confidence?
“Shyne is crazy, but I don’t think he’s wrong about Winter. And I don’t think he’s wrong about you.”
“You’re serious? You believe I’m the Begynd-born princess of a Kerce queen who lived so long ago no one remembers her name?”
“Her name was Maree Vale,” Kyn says. “And it’s not Shyne I believe. It’s the evidence of my own eyes.”
“What is it you’ve seen me do that gives any credence—”
“Listen,” he says, stepping closer and dropping his voice. “You asked me if I trusted Mars to do the right thing, yeah?”
That pulls me up, makes me stop. “Do you?”
He drags a hand over his face and leans in, turning so his back is to Mars and Hyla, even though they are so far up the road they couldn’t hear us if we yelled. “I always have. But after Shyne . . . I’m just thinking, it might be best if you knew what we’re hauling.”
A white-hot flash of irritation shoots through me. “How in Begynd’s name is that going to help?”
“If you knew—I’m not saying you’ll like it—but if you knew, you’d understand what the rebels had in mind—”
“I couldn’t be less interested in what the rebels are doing! Have I not made that clear? Now, if you want to share the location of their hidden camp, that’s a scrap of information I could do something with.”
His eager face goes cold. “You’d leave us behind?”
I clear my throat, lift my chin.
“You’re a bit mercenary, you know that?” He shakes his head. “But you made a deal, little ice witch. If you want to do this blind, who am I to stop you?”
With that, he flips his hood up against the cold and, as it turns out, I’m the one who’s left behind.
CHAPTER 10
The snow around the rig has been entirely melted away, leaving nothing but frigid mud beneath the tank tread. Sludge splashes onto my boots and soft brown trousers. Something I might complain about if I wasn’t exhausted.
“What’s that mess?” Kyn asks, pointing his chin at a slapdash covering secured over the shattered passenger window. It seems years since the Shiv attacked the Dragon. But it was, what? Twelve hours ago? Fifteen?
“My tool bag,” I say. It’s been sliced open and flattened out, the edges affixed to the door frame. Smart, actually. We won’t survive long with Winter pressing herself inside the rig. But I was fond of that bag.
“It was all I could find, Sessa,” Hyla says. And there’s almost an apology there.
“It’s fine,” I say, scooping up the half-empty container of fast drying, waterproof glue she’d discarded. “That glue’s serious stuff. It’ll hold.”
I shove the container into the tool compartment and pull out a tub of weather repellent, passing it to Kyn. I’m hoping the sticky concoction will fill in the spiderweb of cracks on the windshield and keep Winter’s chill outside the cab. It won’t last long, especially if snow turns to rain, but it’s all I can think to do.
Out of habit, I climb into the cab to check the fuel gauges, but we’re fine. I pay good coin for long lasting kol-petrol. If we do find ourselves stranded and desperate, there are fuel stores hidden all over these mountains. Old Man Drypp made me memorize their locations before he handed me the keys to the Dragon.