Dion and Alles must still be out there at the base of the mountain,” I said, unable to stop myself from worrying about them. “What if the Dhaxanians spotted them?”

Avril sighed. “I don’t know. I hope they’re safe. Provided I get through to Nevis, we’ll be able to get back to them. And, if the Dhaxanians captured them… Well, worst-case scenario is we’ll have to bargain for their release. With the Imen population dwindling, the daemons wouldn’t let anyone just kill Dion and Alles off. After all, they’re ‘soul food’.”

The concept still sent shivers down my spine. Eating a creature’s soul was, by far, the most abominable of deeds that anyone could commit. It went against not only the laws of nature, but against the universe itself. The single most precious possession of any living being was their soul, and the daemons and Exiled Maras were gobbling them up like rare delicacies, to cheat time and to enjoy a temporary high.

“No matter how much time passes, that is still unbelievably disgusting,” I muttered, then changed the topic back to Nevis, since the daemons’ culinary habits were not something I wanted to linger over for too long. My stomach was already churning. “So, yeah, Avril, we basically need you to take one for the team.”

“I suppose you don’t mean that literally,” Avril replied with a smirk, and I shook my head in response. She exhaled. “Good. But what if Nevis is hardheaded and says no to everything I may propose? What if, even after I’ve made a compelling case against the daemons, and make it clear that it’s in the Dhaxanians’ best interest to stand with us, Nevis still hands us over to the daemons?”

Avril was right. There was still a chance that Nevis would refuse to help us—provided we managed to reach out to him, first. A day had passed, and we hadn’t heard or seen any Dhaxanians. I gasped, suddenly realizing we’d overlooked the single most important ace up our sleeve. To Patrik’s defense, he’d been avoiding the serpentine side of himself since the war against Azazel had ended. But he could still shift. And the best part was that, unlike most other Druids, Patrik wasn’t compelled to one single snake form. He could turn into any size and species of serpent on Calliope.

“Of course,” I breathed. “Patrik. We still have Patrik.”

Judging by the look in his electric-blue eyes, I knew he, too, realized what I was thinking about. I gave him a soft smile and a wink, and he blinked once in return.

“Oh, crap, you’re right,” Avril replied. “Are we dim or what?”

“No, we’re just in a tight spot with too much going on. I should’ve thought about this sooner,” I said. “Listen, better late than never, right? Besides, ever since the war against Azazel ended, Patrik hasn’t been in touch with that side of himself.”

“After all those years spent as a Destroyer, who could possibly blame him?” Avril muttered.

“What are you two talking about?” Heron frowned. Once more, I was surprised by how brilliant he was on most issues, yet, at the same time, how slow he was on the obvious stuff. Heron could organize the perfect military operation and bring down an entire citadel in less than six hours, but he could easily get his head stuck in a staircase banister if left unattended for more than ten minutes. Then again, it was that precise dualism that made him so unique, and probably part of the reason why Avril was so into him. Well, that and the fact that he was gorgeous and funny. What more could a girl want?

“Seriously, though,” I replied sarcastically. “You’ll lead the Maras on Calliope someday. You really need to up your game.”

“It’s this damn frost,” Heron shot back, slightly frustrated. “It’s slowing me down, in more than one way. Now out with it. What’s up with Patrik?”

Avril and I chuckled softly. Even Hundurr groaned, his red eyes fixed on the Mara. “Okay, I’m not going to give you the answer. That’ll be too easy. I’ll give you a hint, though. What are the main characteristics of a Druid?”

“Long lifespan, the ability to channel magic from the surrounding nature, and…” Heron said, then paused, his eyes wide. “The ability to turn into a snake. Good grief, you were right. I am dim!”

“No, you’re not.” Avril frowned. “You’re right, though, this Dhaxanian frost is doing something to us. I’ve been feeling a little groggy, too, for the past couple of hours.”

Upon further consideration, I came to the same conclusion. Dhaxanian frost wasn’t just ice. Not only did it not melt or break, it also had an effect on our metabolisms. Looking back at the entire time we’d spent down here, it seemed to have a stronger effect on warm-blooded creatures, which could explain why Patrik, Hundurr, and especially Heron were, in fact, a little slow. Avril and I functioned differently, given our cold nature. However, it seemed as though lengthy exposure was beginning to affect us, too.

“I think you need to start calling out to Nevis now, before this frost turns you into a useless, drooling mess,” I said.

Avril nodded, then, from the bottom of her lungs, she started shouting Nevis’s name. “Nevis! Prince of Dhaxanians! I need to talk to you! I’ve got something that might be of interest! Come down here! Nevis! Nevis, you white-haired snow queen, get your ass down here and talk to me! You’re going to want to hear what I have to say!”

“He’s not going to get the snow queen joke,” I muttered.

“It’s still funny to me.” She grinned.

I stifled a giggle as she called out to him again. “Nevis! Get down here! I need to see you!”

My breath was shaky as we waited for the prince of Dhaxanians to respond, or, even better, show his face. It was only a matter of time before we were going to find ourselves surrounded by daemons. The last thing I wanted was to end up in some other meranium cage with one of those horned bastards draining the literal life out of me.