We headed northeast, toward the Athelathan Mountains—two giants flanked by sharp ridges made of white marble and gray limestone, riddled with wide plateaus of pine forests. Our horses went fast, but the closer we got to the mountains, the lower the temperatures became, making it more difficult for the animals to keep up their natural speed.

The tall grass of the Lagerith Plains scattered away, revealing the hard, nearly frozen ground beneath. The land surrounding the mountains was cold and unforgiving, home to dark green shrubs and stumpy trees that thrived only in such harsh climates.

The sun was out early, hidden behind thick layers of snow clouds. Thunder rumbled above. We were already soaked by the earlier rain, and we were now looking at a curtain of icy sleet coming down from the mountains.

The peaks were covered in snow and ice, setting off the occasional avalanche as the masses of frozen water collapsed onto the trees below. This was a cold and unforgiving land, its weather so extreme that it wasn’t hard to imagine daemons keeping their distance from it. The cold was sneaking deep into my bones, locking my joints and making my teeth clatter—and I had a naturally low body temperature to begin with.

“This is a lot colder than I’d expected,” Scarlett said, then looked up at the mountaintops, pointing at a pair of glimmering lights—so far away and well-hidden above the top forest plateau that I almost didn’t see them. “Does that look like a city to you?”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look, but that specific area was under heavy snowfall. Barely anything could be seen from this distance, and we didn’t have Harper’s sentry eyes to help us. “It might. I can’t really tell, with the blizzards unfolding up there.”

“Yeah, we’re looking at very hostile conditions here,” Patrik replied, then took some of the furs he’d packed and passed a couple over to Scarlett. Heron gave me some of his, while Dion and Alles handled their own.

I looked down at my horse—the poor creature was already shivering. “What do we do?” I asked. “I’m not sure the horses can take the trip.”

Scarlett and Patrik looked at each other, then at the Imen, and back to me, offering me their conclusion in the form of a nod. “We could continue up on foot,” Scarlett said, “and the Imen can stay here with the horses.”

“What? No, we can help!” Dion objected. “We’re not staying down here. We’re not kids!”

“This isn’t about us treating you like children,” I replied. “The truth is, the weather up this mountain is extreme, and I doubt you or the horses would survive. Whatever swamp witch magic we have, we can split in two. You guys can hold on to half, and keep yourselves and the horses safe and warm down here.”

“And we’ll take the other half up the mountain with us, in case we need it,” Heron added. “Besides, you’re better off staying down here. Who knows what the Dhaxanians are up to? They could very well look at you and say ‘Oh, how sweet, you brought us dinner’.”

I stifled a chuckle and got off my horse.

“Our swamp witch magic resources should be used in moderation, and taking the horses up the mountain would deplete them sooner rather than later,” Patrik said, as he got off and moved half of the supplies into his and Scarlett’s backpack, while Dion and Alles held on to the rest.

We wrapped ourselves in furs, which we then tied around our waists for mobility, keeping the weapons within reach. We put the shields we’d gotten from the Imen camp on our backs and left our horses with Dion and Alles, who still weren’t happy with our decision.

“We could help you up there, you know,” Alles muttered, stroking his horse’s neck.

“We don’t yet know what’s up there,” I replied gently, then squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him that we weren’t dumping them behind. “We need someone to look after the horses down here. Besides, we’ll be back before you know it.”

Dion’s eyes grew wide, and he didn’t bother to hide his concern. “What if you don’t?”

Heron, Scarlett, Patrik, and I looked at each other for a brief moment, before I shifted my focus back to Dion and Alles. “If we’re not back in two days, you head back to the Adlets,” I said, then gave him one of the three flares. Scarlett had kept one, handing the other two over to Heron and me, in case we split up for whatever reason. “Only use this if you have to. Otherwise, go back to Ragnar Peak, and meet the rest of our team there. Finding the swamp witch is the most important thing on our to-do list right now, so don’t waste time coming right back for us.”

“Either way, that’s your worst-case scenario,” Heron replied. “Which won’t happen, anyway, because we’re trained professionals. We’ve got tricks up our sleeves, two badass vampires, a Druid, a pit wolf, and, well, me.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that last one. “Way to blow your own horn there, Dorchadas.”

“I thought it was what you liked most about me.” Heron smirked, and I bit my lower lip in order to stop myself from laughing.

“Point is, Dion, Alles, stay here,” I said to the young Imen. “Take care of our horses for us, and be ready to shoot out of here as fast as you can, if needed. Like I said, we don’t know what’s up there, Dhaxanians or worse.”

The Imen nodded and pulled the horses away to a small cluster of trees, just fifty feet away. “We’ll be here,” Dion said, pointing at the natural refuge.

I used the last of the furs to cover Hundurr’s back. He was huge, but there was enough material to keep his spine and shoulders warm. Patrik handed me his reserve of leather strings—I used them to tie the fur around Hundurr’s body, making sure he stayed snug for the journey ahead. He eventually stopped shaking, unable to take his weary red eyes off me. I stroked his neck and smiled.

“We’ll be fine, Hundurr,” I said gently. “Just watch our backs. Hopefully, the Dhaxanians won’t be too hard to find.”

We left Dion, Alles, and the horses behind and trekked up the mountain, following one of the smoother western ridges. The higher the altitude, the lower the temperatures dropped. We toughed it out, moving as fast as we could against the growing, biting winds.

Hundurr was more resilient than I’d given him credit for, but even he was starting to slow down, about halfway through. I briefly checked the others, and noticed that Patrik was starting to fall behind, too, and Heron was always a couple of steps behind me.

We stopped on one of the forest plateaus for a few minutes, during which time Patrik dropped to his knee and tried to dig a small hole in the frosted ground. Hundurr noticed his efforts and decided to help, clawing away at the hard dirt until the hole was deep enough for Patrik to fill with twigs and a handful of herbs and minerals from his supplies.

“What’s that?” I asked, raising my voice as the wind howled around us.

“A little bit of magic to keep us going,” Patrik replied, and muttered a Druid spell under his breath, then lit the bundle up and motioned for us to gather around the small fire. To my surprise, it burned bright and blue, despite the strong gusts of icy winds. “Warm yourselves up. It’ll raise our body temperatures and keep them high for longer. It should be enough to get us to the top.”

He was right. As soon as I put my hands above the flames, warmth poured through me, lighting my senses on fire, too. It was as if my focus had been amped up a few times over. “Oh, wow,” I gasped. “Anyone else feeling this?”

“Lord, who needs coffee when you’ve got Druid fire, right?” Scarlett grinned, relishing the new sensations as she, too, warmed up by the fire.

Patrik smiled, then nodded at the citadel on top of the mountain. It was easier to spot now, with tall, white marble columns that seemed to go on forever, and sharp corners on the somewhat battered walls. “It looks like it’s been up there a long time,” he said. “But I don’t see the lights anymore.”

“Maybe they were just reflections on some patch of snow or ice, or something,” Heron suggested.

“Either way, it’s huge,” I muttered.

Hundurr quietly made his way closer to the fire, too, warming his face. He seemed to enjoy it the most, and his eyes closed momentarily, before he snapped back to reality and looked up, sniffing the cold air. It was well below zero at this altitude. The ground was covered in snow, the layer thicker toward the edges of the plateau.

“Is that normal?” I asked, pointing at the thin crust of ice covering the pine trees. It hugged the trunks with beautiful, crystallized patterns, like nothing I’d ever seen before.

“It’s frost, I guess,” Patrik replied, squinting at the trees. He then got up and walked over to the nearest one, running his fingers over the frozen bark. “I’ve never seen ice formations such as this.”

“It could mean that we’re getting close,” I suggested. “The Dhaxanians do like to freeze stuff, don’t they?”

“With a single touch, too,” Heron replied, then carefully looked around, his gaze settling on Hundurr, who was growing a little restless. “He doesn’t look too happy.”

“I think he smells something. Or someone,” Scarlett said. “Hundurr, would you like to lead the way and track whatever scent you caught?”

The pit wolf didn’t wait to be asked twice. He shot back up onto the ridge, just as another wave of heavy snowfall came down, with clusters of flakes almost as big as our fists. “Try to keep up,” Scarlett gasped as she followed him.

One by one, we made our way farther up the mountain, covering another mile through the rising snow. The freezing winds continued to push back. We had our masks, hoods, and goggles on, just to protect our faces from the blizzard, while the sky darkened above us.

The citadel we’d seen was just a few yards away, at the very top of the mountain. I’d lost track of time during our climb, but we must’ve spent at least four to five hours just working our way up to the top plateau alone.

“Finally,” Scarlett breathed, as we all made it to the city. It had been carved directly into the white marble core of the mountain peak, with narrow stairs and tall, slender columns. It reminded me of ancient Greek temples, given its rather simple architecture, but I was willing to bet it was incredibly spacious inside.

“Okay, everybody stay close,” Patrik said, then motioned for Hundurr to come. “That means you too, big boy.”

The pit wolf huffed, then trotted back to Scarlett’s side as we walked into the ginormous cave posing as a city on top of a frozen mountain. Add this to the stories you’ll tell your kids later.

About five minutes in, as I looked at the walls and tall ceiling that domed above us, I realized something. This wasn’t white marble. Sure, there was some at the very core of the entire structure, but this was all ice, thick layers enveloping every pillar and every sheet of stone around us. “Guys, this is an ice palace,” I murmured, my breath steaming before me.

It wasn’t dark, either, but I couldn’t identify the light sources. A cool, bluish sheen reflected off every icy surface, mingled with the pure white of the marble underlayers. The deeper we went into the city, the more beautiful it became—the walls and columns were adorned with swirling ice sculptures, while a frosted pattern developed on the floor. There was a thin layer of snow powder on top, enough to stop our feet from slipping at every second step forward.

Despite the magnitude of this construction, however, there was no sign of life.

I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “What if it’s abandoned?” I asked, my voice low as I looked around. “What if no one’s been here in eons?”

“Or maybe they’re just shy,” Heron replied, the corner of his mouth twitching as he looked around. Hundurr seemed restless, huffing and whimpering as he sniffed the frozen floor.

Farther ahead, the hallway opened into what looked like a massive throne room. It was shaped like a dome, with ice columns linking the ceiling to the ground—with at least a hundred feet between them. “This is huge,” I breathed, looking up.

There were rectangular holes carved into the walls all around us, displayed on even rows, one above the other, all the way up to the ceiling frame beneath the dome. There still wasn’t a clear source of light in sight, and yet the hall was well-lit in a white hue.

The throne itself had been carved from a giant block of ice. The level of detail was simply astonishing, consisting mostly of snowflake patterns repeated in elegant rows along the sides. It, too, was covered in powdery snow, like dust that had settled with the passage of time. And nothing but silence.

“It stands to reason that none of this would melt,” Scarlett said, taking a couple of steps toward the throne. “I mean, there’s a perpetual winter going on here.”

“Hundurr doesn’t seem to think it’s abandoned,” Patrik replied, nodding at the pit wolf. Hundurr started growling, his gaze darting around, most likely seeing something we couldn’t just yet. My muscles jerked, and my senses flared. I scanned the entire hall from top to bottom—still, no sign of movement. Not even a passing shadow.

“Where are they?” I muttered, frowning, as Heron moved closer to my side. He, too, was on edge. Something didn’t feel right. So I decided to do the natural thing. I shouted. “We come in peace!”

Silence, as Patrik, Scarlett, and Heron gawked at me, their eyes nearly popping out of their orbits. I replied with a shrug. “Worth a shot,” I added, slowly.

Hundurr’s warning growl was briefly followed by the whistle of something shooting through the air. I saw the source—a sharp arrow, flying right toward us from the right side. I pulled Heron back on pure instinct. The arrow missed him by a few inches and got lodged into the ice floor. That thing was fast enough to break through several inches of ice, easily.

My blood froze as I heard that whizzing sound again—but this time more than once.

“Stay close!” Patrik barked, then quickly muttered a spell and put his hands out. Bright blue pulses shot out from his palms, forming a protective bubble around us. It shimmered blue, but it was transparent enough for us to see the rain of arrows coming at us.

Thousands of them, shot at once from the rectangular holes carved into the dome-shaped throne room, flew in fast. None could penetrate the shield, though, and they all fell onto the frozen floor.

“I guess it’s not abandoned after all,” I gasped, as another wave of arrows came in.

The swarm of steel-tipped projectiles rained down on us, but Patrik held his own. “I drew energy from the ice around us,” he grunted, holding his glowing hands up to sustain the shield against the second wave. “Otherwise we would’ve been riddled with holes by now.”

I couldn’t see anyone, but someone was clearly shooting those arrows at us. And judging by the number of them coming in, there weren’t just a handful of hostiles surrounding us.

“I know it’s redundant to say this now, but I think Hundurr smelled something, for sure,” Heron replied sarcastically.

“Good boy,” Patrik said, gritting his teeth, “but I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I feel each arrow hitting the shield like a punch in the gut.”

A third round of arrows came in, and I could see the beads of sweat forming on Patrik’s forehead as he struggled to keep the protective bubble up. A couple of arrows made it through, but we managed to dodge them, while the others joined the rest on the floor.

We were in trouble.