Winter, White and Wicked - Shannon Dittemore Page 0,70

light. In Ryme, the ice builds as the river continues to send water over the cliff. Eventually the weight of the ice tears the wing free and it drops in immense sheets, disappearing into a crevice cut by the raging waters of Blys.

“We’ll make it,” I say.

“Holy Begynd, you’re a bad liar,” Kyn says.

Mars tugs his sleeves over his wrists. “It won’t matter. Winter will do as she’s told.”

I bristle, but it’s what I’ve had to depend on when thoughts of cracking through the ice shake my nerve. We have to get across. There’s nothing for it. Lenore is on the other side of the Serpentine and if Mars is going to anger Winter, it might as well be in a noble pursuit.

The windshield takes an elbow from a brittle limb. Flecks of glass scatter, and Hyla and I flinch, trying to cover our faces. But the limb is sheared off and the windshield holds.

“I do not like these cages,” Hyla says, pulling her goggles into place.

“No,” I say. “There’s not much to like here. But after the river crossing, it’s a straight shot to the mines at North Bend. We’ll stop there for repairs. The opening is wide and we can pull the Dragon in out of the cold to work.”

It’ll buy me some time too. Some time to consider my options. I’d have to be sure though, that the rebel camp really is where I think it is. I’d have to know—

A jab to the shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. I snatch the finger needling my arm. It’s Kyn’s. And his face is far too close.

“We’ve lost a motor,” he says, using the offending finger to point at the round blade hanging lifeless on Hyla’s side of the rig. The dangling blade catches a branch and the arm groans and bends before we’re past it.

“Kill the motor, Hy.”

But she’s slow to move; Kyn crawls forward and does it for her. The saws grind to a halt, but only the left one retracts.

“Both motors are tied to a single lever,” I say. “I can detach it from the right blade, but I’ll have to stop. And if we stop, we’ll lose all momentum for the climb.”

“You drive. Kyn can take care of the repair,” Mars says. “Tell him what to do.”

“The cable needs to be cut on the arm itself. It’s outside.”

“We can’t stop, Miss Quine. You said it yourself. We’ll never make it up the incline if we lose momentum.”

Our options are limited, but if we’re going to do this, there’s really only one way.

“Here,” I say, flipping a glance at Kyn. “Take the wheel. I’m smaller. I can climb past Hyla and cut the cables.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Seat’s coming back.” Using my left heel, I kick the seat release and shove back, keeping the gas pedal down.

Another massive branch to the shattered windshield and glass rains down on the dash.

“Flux,” I hiss. “We’ve got to get the left saw moving again or we’re going to lose the windshield.”

Kyn’s already behind me in the seat. His long legs are under mine, and his hands take the wheel. I’m pulling my own foot off the gas pedal when the rig strikes a rut and I fall back onto Kyn’s chest.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he says, one hand steadying me, the other on the wheel.

“Your ribs,” I say, pulling up and climbing off his lap.

“They’re fine. Really. Good as new.”

His reassuring grin tells me it’s true, but it’s unlike Winter to be so generous. A thick, knotted limb strikes the window next to his head, and I realize there are more important things to focus on just now.

“Go, go,” he says as the window splinters.

I shift so that I’m perched between the seats, one foot on Hyla’s leg, one on Kyn’s. Kyn’s hand is around my shin now, still steadying me.

“Lean back, Hyla,” I say. “It’s about to get really cold in here.”

With my weight on my left leg, I lift my right boot and kick, once, twice, three times at the canvas window covering. The adhesive gives and the old bag detaches, tangling in the icy limbs before it’s snatched away.

Now, to get outside without the trees snatching me away as well. I shift again, redistributing my weight.

“I need my foot now,” I tell Kyn.

He squeezes my boot and then the warmth of his hand falls away.

I flip up my hood and pull the string so it closes tight around my face, leaving me only a few inches to see out