Winter, White and Wicked - Shannon Dittemore Page 0,87

it away, dropping it to the ground. Another layer of leather lies beneath, seams and padding sewn into strange positions for a headrest. I flip it in my hands and find the divot.

I round the stack of crates. Kyn’s not far behind, asking questions I can’t quite decipher. But the panic in his chest? I feel that acutely.

I ignore it, flipping the headrest horizontally and snapping the divot onto the stem where it becomes the saddle. The ice bike’s complete. It’ll be a tight squeeze with Lenore and me sharing the seat, but we’ll fit. This might just work.

But then Kyn’s here, standing in front of me, looking like I’ve just kicked him in the gut.

“You’re leaving,” he says.

I don’t owe him an explanation. I don’t owe him anything. But he stretches out a hand and I remember what the kol did to me in the Cages. How it rendered me silly and careless. He saw it too. Had to watch me stroke his skin. He’s a driver, the closest thing to an ally I have out here, and if anyone can understand why I won’t do this, it’s him.

“I can’t do the Seacliff Road,” I say, stepping back, out of his reach. “I can’t do the kol. And I don’t want to order Winter around just so I can.”

“But you made a deal with Mars. He won’t tell you where the camp is unless—”

“I know where the camp is, Kyn. I don’t need Mars anymore.” I throw my leg over the seat and wish away the ache I feel in my chest. I won’t try to figure out if it’s his ache or mine. There’s no point. What he feels, I feel. And it’s enough to have me stomping on the starter.

“Sylvi!” he calls after me.

I fly past the Dragon, past Hyla standing with a spool of solder in her hand, out into the white snow, into Winter’s domain. I cross the road and drop onto the rocky slope that will take me out onto the Desolation.

It’s loud, the bike’s motor and the wind. But it’s not loud enough. I can still hear Kyn’s disappointment rattling around my insides. I rev the engine, but noise can’t silence what he’s doing to my heart.

I can only hope distance will do that.

CHAPTER 22

Winter has taken a toll on the mountains. Especially if they were ever anything like Mystra Dyfan’s stories—steep and treacherous as they dropped off to the shores around the Pool of Begynd. This mountain trail is fraught with trees and rocks, with hardened ice and slushy, mud-splattering puddles, but it’s not nearly as treacherous as it must have been a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago.

The bike tires are sturdy—perfect for this terrain. I split a pair of dripping pines and the Desolation spreads vast and awe-inspiring before me. I yank the handlebars to the left, kicking the bike around and pulling it to a stop before cutting the engine.

I should go. I shouldn’t waste time suspended here on the shores of the Desolation—I’m not sure who will find me first, Mars or the Shiv, but neither will let me go without some kind of skirmish. And still I remain perched, watching.

The Desolation is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Ice as far as the eye can see. I wonder how the Dragon would do on it, the tank tread spinning and kicking as she thrusts me forward, the height of her letting me see for miles and miles. There’s no perspective down here on the shore. It’s nothing but blue ice and white fog hanging high overhead.

I couldn’t get the Dragon down here if I wanted to. She’s too big to navigate the trees and there’s not even the beginnings of a road this side of the Desolation.

Behind me, the snow shifts.

I catch a half-exhaled breath and listen. And there it is again. Branches cracking, rocks shifting. It’ll be the Shiv then.

Winter’s whispers are hot and cold all at once.

YOUR KNIFE, she says.

The bone handle presses into my stomach, but I know that if they wished it, I’d already be lying in the snow. They’ve rocks and arrows and the advantage of high ground.

I’ve an ice bike and one sylver knife.

A knife I dare not pull.

I consider the bike for a moment, whether I should dismount. There’s a sharp pain in my chest when I think of the Shiv tumbling from the cliff, the mountain closing on top of them as Kyn and I ran to safety. We