The first thing I noticed was the cold. It had dug into my bones, and my body shook constantly, despite the warm layers of fur covering me. The cold had been a distant memory not so long ago, but already I struggled to remember how it had ever felt to be warm.

The second sensation was movement. I was fairly certain I was lying down, and yet I seemed to be moving, somehow. Almost as if someone were dragging me along the ground.

Slowly I forced my eyes open. The darkness had gone, but still I couldn’t see, everything remained blank—only blindingly bright instead of dark. After a long moment, features began to take shape out of the endless white. We were on the mountain still, and I could see rocks and trees, all covered in heapings of snow.

“What…” My voice came out croaky and weak, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “What’s happening?”

“Celine!”

“She’s awake!”

The movement stopped with a jerk, and I pushed myself up into a sitting position. My head whirled, and I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath.

“Slowly,” said Oliver’s soft voice in my ear, his grip warm and firm beneath my elbow. Without thinking I leaned in toward his heat.

“So…cold,” I moaned, reopening my eyes in time to catch him share a concerned look with Giselle. I looked around. They had somehow constructed a sled of sorts using a blanket and some branches, and it looked like they had been pulling me up the mountain.

“How…how long have I been…” I let the sentence drop away as I remembered the blizzard and my endless, timeless struggle to keep the fire burning.

“Did we…did I…?” I looked around again, still trying to get my bearings. Obviously the storm had passed. Unlike the last time I had been awake, the blue sky cast an almost painful light down to reflect against the endless white.

In the snow, at least, the blizzard had left its mark. It covered everything in deep, suffocating layers. I could actually hear some of the trees groaning under the weight.

“Celine,” Oliver’s voice had dropped so low I could barely hear it. “Your fire. Is it…?”

I gasped, raw fear burning down the back of my throat. I remembered now. I had used it all. Every last drop. And now I was freezing.

I ripped off a glove and held out my hand. I had become so practiced at this that calling the flames required hardly a thought. But nothing came. My exposed skin stung against the cold air. The hand shook so much I could barely push it back into the glove.

I looked up at Oliver, and he must have read the panic in my eyes.

“You were exhausted,” he said. “Utterly exhausted. What you did…” He shook his head, the wonder in his eyes filling me with a momentary warmth. “It’s no wonder you burned yourself out. You just need to rekindle it.”

I closed my eyes, grasping at his words. Could he be right? I turned my attention inward. My chest felt cold and dead, so different from the living warmth I had become accustomed to.

I pushed away the rising fear. I had felt warmth just a moment ago, hadn’t I? Where had it come from? Could I get it back?

My eyes flew open as I remembered exactly where it had come from. I hadn’t noticed in my earlier panic, but Oliver still crouched beside me, his face close to mine. My eyes fluttered down to his lips. All I would have to do would be to tip myself forward slightly and my own would be pressed against his.

The memory of his embrace in the tunnel filled my mind, and a flush raced across my cheeks. My insides burst into life in perfect time, the fire racing through my body and burning away the chill. I turned away from Oliver, focused now on keeping the heat under control.

“I think it’s back,” said Giselle’s matter-of-fact voice. “Look at her cheeks.”

“Yes.” I smiled up at her, too happy to be embarrassed. “It’s back.”

“Well, that’s good.”

I snorted at her understated words. Without my powers we were just three people against a mountain range, a possibly treacherous guide, an entire village, and a killer enchantment.

Sterling cleared his throat from somewhere further up the mountain. I turned to squint up at him.

“Good to see you’re awake. I don’t suppose you’ll be able to walk now?”

I winced. I couldn’t blame him—no doubt he’d been assisting in pulling me uphill.

“How long have I been…?” I gestured at the sleigh and my reclined position.

“A few hours.” Oliver glanced up at the sky, as if to check the time by the sun. “You passed out as soon as the blizzard finished, but we couldn’t stay in place after it started to get light. We had no cover and not enough wood to burn. Better to keep moving than stay still and undo everything you did for us.” He smiled, but I could only imagine how much work it must have been to pull me along. And no wonder I was so cold. They had at least been moving to keep themselves a little warm.

“Are we close?” I looked up at Sterling, and he turned to squint further upward.

“Aye. I think so. This fresh layer of snow makes things look a little different, and it’s hard going, but we should reach it before nightfall.” He looked down at me. “Especially if you can walk for yourself.”

I nodded and gripped Oliver’s hand, levering myself to my feet. “I can walk.”

I swayed, and Oliver steadied me.

“I can walk,” I repeated in answer to his skeptical look. “I can.”

He insisted on attaching my snowshoes for me, and I let him, gratefully. My head was clearing, but I could still feel weakness in my limbs, and I didn’t really want to crouch down if I could avoid it.

But I found that every minute that passed with the heat back inside me, a little of my strength returned. Within an hour, the others weren’t even having to slow for me anymore. Several times I caught Sterling giving me a look I couldn’t read. Was he wondering at my quick recovery? Or just generally wondering about my powers?

The others must have talked about it among themselves at some point. Surely. But he hadn’t mentioned it to me, and I had no desire to discuss it with him. As we traveled, I did worry about what his knowledge meant, however. We still didn’t really know what we were going to face, and we had just lost the element of surprise.

Eventually I threw off the thought. We had been completely out of options. Better to lose one weapon in our armory than to die. And just because he knew about my powers didn’t mean he would have any way to counter them. My usual confidence had returned along with the flames that filled me. We had survived the leopards and the blizzard. We would survive what was coming too.

Our overall progress had slowed significantly with the extra dumping of snow, and the afternoon sun was stretching long, before Sterling stopped and pointed toward an enormous boulder with a satisfied smile.

“Ahhh…?” I squinted at it, trying to work out what he wanted to call our attention to.

But Oliver broke into a broad grin and a sliding half-run. He stopped at the rock face briefly and then part of him disappeared.

“Oh.” I moved forward, and the change of angle revealed a narrow passage through the rock. No wonder no one had ever found it. You could walk straight past and miss it.

Oliver bent down and removed his snowshoes. His eyes sparkled triumphantly back at Giselle and me.

“There’s only the thinnest layer of snow on the ground in here,” he called. “We won’t need our snowshoes.”

I immediately plonked down into the snow and pulled mine off as fast as I could go. Reluctantly I attached them to my pack. We still had to make it back down the mountains again.

Giselle shook her head at me, sliding past toward Oliver with her usual awkward snowshoe gait. As soon as I stood again and attempted to follow her, I realized the cause of her amusement. At the first step, I sank deep into the snow.

I yelped as I toppled, my leg entirely swallowed by the deep powder. I tried to pull myself out, but only seemed to sink further in. I looked helplessly across at Oliver, whose eyes suggested he was trying not to laugh at me, but it was Sterling who stopped beside me.

With a grunt, he reached down and gripped me under my arms, hauling me out of the snow.

“Follow my track,” he said, as he took off along the same route the other two had taken.

Sighing, I scooted after him the same way I had slid down the slopes. It required a lot more effort on the flat, but thankfully I only had a short distance to cover.

When I finally stepped off the snow and into the rock passage, I gave a warning look to Oliver and Giselle.

“Not a word.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Oliver assured me, although his eyes were still laughing.

“You’ll learn eventually,” said Giselle, sailing past me.

I glared at her back. No wonder my older siblings had found me irritating.

I continued to grumble internally as I brought up the rear of our little single-file procession. I didn’t mean it, of course, I was just so relieved to be free of the incessant snow. It made me never want to see another bit of it again, let alone become an expert like the locals.

The rock ended suddenly, and I stumbled into Oliver’s back where he had stopped abruptly in the entrance. He murmured an apology and moved out of the way without looking back at me.

As soon as I stepped free, I realized what had captivated them. Spread before us was an enclosed mountain valley. Occasional thin patches of white on the ground were overwhelmed with the green of grass. I even saw some splashes of pink and purple. Here spring seemed to have actually come—at least somewhat.

The sun shone down on a larger collection of houses than I had anticipated, and beyond them I could even see what looked like some small fields. Figures, large and small, moved between the houses, intent on the everyday tasks that occupied villagers.

I shook my head. So this part of Sterling’s tale at least had been true. When Oliver looked back at me, I could see he was thinking the same thing. And the earlier triumph in his expression had only solidified. I smiled back at him, unable to help being swept up in his hope. But a moment later, I shot Giselle a more concerned look. I could see from her eyes that she was impressed by the village, but when she saw my expression, she cast a worried look at Oliver’s back.

I knew he wasn’t fueled by anything so ignoble as a desire to say I told you so. He was merely filled with relief and hope for his kingdom. And I wanted to share his joy, especially since it was obvious a weight had already lifted from him.

But I couldn’t help being more wary. We still had to work out exactly how this enchantment protection worked, and if it could help us. And then we had to convince these villagers to give it up.

And when I looked over this perfect village, I saw hope—yes—but I also felt a sinking sensation. The blizzard lingered fresh in my mind, and I couldn’t imagine how we would ever prevail on them to give up their protection. And what if we did, and we saved the kingdom, but another blizzard hit in the meantime, and they all died? Could we convince them to return down the mountain with us, at least temporarily?

I looked over the village again and sighed. And even if we could, how slowly would a whole village full of people move? Would we return with salvation for Eldon, only to find Eliam had already completed its coup?

I knew why Oliver wasn’t thinking of any of these things. He couldn’t allow himself even a moment of weakness in his determination. As heir he carried a weight that I had never known. As seventh-born, it would take a tragedy beyond reckoning to ever make me responsible for my kingdom.

“Welcome to Valley View,” said Sterling, striding forward toward the closest of the houses. Oliver followed, his steps long and confident after so many days of carefully picking our way through the snow.

With a sigh Giselle also stepped forward onto the grass, and I followed a beat behind. Except while she kept walking, I faltered and nearly fell. The gap between us widened as I stood frozen, dumbstruck and horrified. As soon as I had touched the floor of this odd valley, my insides had gone cold.

“Come on.” Giselle turned back to stare at me in confusion. A quick look at my face had her backtracking to grip my arm.

“What is it?” Her eyes rapidly flitted around the valley and even looked behind us, as if she feared I had spotted some threat the rest of them had overlooked.

“My…my fire,” I gasped.

She looked confused. “I thought you said it had come back?”

“It had. And then I stepped in here. And it was gone. Instantly.”

“Well, re-light it,” she said. “Like you did before.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been trying.”

We stood motionless, staring at each other, a slow and horrifying realization dawning on us both.

“Their godmother object,” she breathed at last. “The one that keeps away the snow and ice…”

“Well, at least we know it still works against enchantments as well,” I said, but no hint of pleasure sounded in my grim voice.

I had feared our loss of the element of surprise. But apparently I should have been afraid of something far worse.