clouds rolled above them, a blizzard threatening at every moment, held at bay only by the firebird’s warmth and the fire barrier it had surrounded them with. With every minute, the woods grew darker, what little light there was gradually ebbing.
Every now and then, Loki would pause to inspect sections of tree bark, or pick up a stick and stare at it intently for a minute before moving down a new path, with Cole bringing up the rear. The others said nothing, trusting their lead, though this all was strange and new to Tala. When not flying, the firebird perched on Alex’s shoulder, rubbing its head against his neck from time to time.
“They’re all right, aren’t they?” she asked Zoe again, needing more validation. Despite her initial hope about what had happened to her father and the Katipuneros, the snow was doing its best to dampen her optimism. Her only consolation was that General Luna and her mother were all right. “Lola Urduja and the others? And Dad?”
“I’m almost positive,” Zoe assured her. “Something must have disrupted the spell when our turn came, not just the firebird.” She frowned. “Odd too. Dexter’s usually careful about these things, but the looking glass hadn’t been used in years. There might have been some defects that none of us spotted.” Despite the cold, she seemed more at home with their surroundings than Tala, who jumped at every unexpected noise.
There was very little conversation at first. Eventually Ken, a natural-born talker at heart, started a steady stream of chatter as they made their way through the frozen woods.
“My dad’s a lord from Altai. But you can trace his ancestors all the way back to the Meiji period, fighting alongside Musashi back in Edo when he carried the Avalon sword. My mum’s from England, and she raises horses; they met at a county fair. Classic love story. Avalon and England aren’t exactly enemies, but they’re not friends either. Some people think it’s just as bad as an outlander marriage. Bugger them, my folks always said. In any case, Dad moved to England, and they spent their honeymoon there—turns out Dad’s a huge Anglophile; hanging gardens and London and Buckingham Palace.”
“Altai?” Tala asked, remembering the map on the wall of the sanctuary.
“In Avalon. Dad’s several-times-grandpa found refuge in Altai after this thing called the sakoku came into effect back in Japan.”
“Closed-door policy,” Zoe murmured. “Tokugawa shogunate, I think? They wanted to restrict Europe’s influence.”
“And also to drive out their undesirables,” Ken said with a shrug. “Including magic-users, since they considered it anti-Shinto and anti-Buddhist, or something. Avalon welcomed my ancestors in. Avalon welcomes refugees the world over.”
“I’ve never been to Japan or England,” West said. “My family moved to Prague when the ice settled here.”
“Well, your family’s got the right kind of name recognition, and all those Eddings curses make you practically a celebrity, so you don’t have to hide for being Avalonian. Unlike the rest of us.”
“I know,” West said sadly.
“Wouldn’t a family curse be a bad thing?” Tala asked.
“All us Eddings come from real old Avalonian stock,” West said. “Real…what’s that English word when your family’s got a good reputation and everyone else knows it?”
“Distinguished?” Zoe asked. “Celebrated?”
“Vērō, both of those. Mother comes from old blood too. She’s a Flax. Old families got curses running in their veins—all the years fighting and adventuring and being put under spells—it’s…what’s that other English word where everyone’s aware of your status?”
“Prestigious?”
“That one. We have a prestigious line. Father’s got a golden tongue, and Mother cries pearls. And two of my older sisters got their curses early. They receive a lot of marriage offers.”
“I would have assumed the opposite,” Tala said.
“Well, you can’t boast of marrying into old blood if your daughter-in-law doesn’t turn into a swan at the stroke of midnight at least once in your lifetime.”
“This is,” Tala said, “very weird for me.”
“No one’s tried to court you because of your Makiling curse?”
“I don’t think it works the same way. Does that mean turning into animals is your curse, West?”
From behind them, Alex snorted. “You can tell what his curse is by looking at him.”
West blinked, and Zoe’s mouth dropped open. “That was uncalled for, Alex,” Tala hissed.
Alex looked up, as if realizing what he’d just said. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“That’s true, though,” West said thoughtfully. “We’re an ugly lot. I look like my great-aunt Gertrude, and she got it from my great-great-grandfather, Theodore the Handsome.”
“Theodore…the Handsome?” Zoe asked.
“Mother said they call him that for the irony.