Page 68 of Kiss of Frost

I reached over and squeezed her knee. Leave it to my witchling to know the proper term.

Graeme slowed, then stretched his wings wide and spiraled downward in a slow, graceful descent. The blue surrounded us, its soft glow pulsing like a slow, steady heartbeat. Snowflakes hung suspended in the air. They melted as we brushed against them, only to reappear after we passed. Ahead of us, a thick curtain of mist descended from the sky like a waterfall. It spread across one side of the caldera as if a god had draped a blanket of snow and diamonds over the edge of a massive bed.

Georgie gasped as Graeme took us down, her lovely features gilded with blue light.

And it struck me—the air was utterly still, without even the hint of a breeze. The Oracle of the North Wind was supposedly the most powerful, volatile current in the world. But there was nothing volatile about this place, where everything floated like a slow-moving dream.

Graeme touched down on a pristine sheet of snow. I helped Georgie off his back, and we waited as he shifted and dressed.

I grabbed Georgie’s hand and squeezed. “Are you all right?” I asked in a low voice.

“Yes,” she whispered, gazing around. “It’s beautiful.”

Graeme gestured to the curtain of mist. “It’s this way.” He hesitated. “I have to warn you, lass, the Oracle doesn’t speak to everyone.”

“I know,” Georgie said, her face solemn. “I’m prepared for that to be the case. But I have to try.”

He nodded, then led us across the snow. Our boots didn’t crunch, and we left no footsteps. The curtain loomed ahead. My heart thumped harder as we neared the sheet of white. What if nothing happened? I wasn’t sure I could stand to see Georgie’s hopes crushed so unjustly.

We kept moving, and for a moment I thought Graeme intended to lead us through the mist. But when we were about fifty feet away from it, the curtain suddenly disappeared.

Graeme stopped, his body instantly tense. Georgie and I stumbled to a halt beside him. My heart raced as I stared up at what the curtain had been hiding.

Two icicles as thick and tall as Manhattan skyscrapers thrust from the ground. Between them, a tempest raged. Blue lightning fired over swirling, writhing wind, which soared to the very top of the towering icicles. The wind’s howling was muted, as if it was trapped behind a sheet of glass. The air around us remained still, but now it carried the sharp scent of ozone mixed with the bite of snow and ice.

Georgie’s expression was captivated as she stared up at the seething mass. Her hands twitched at her sides as if she longed to touch the roiling force.

The air thickened. Tongues of energy licked over me. Power swelled, tightening my chest and pushing against my eardrums. As it probed and explored, I realized it wasn’t simply raw power or a natural force.

It was intelligence.

The wind didn’t have eyes, but it peered at us. Waiting.

Graeme looked at Georgie and spoke in a voice so low it was barely audible. “You can go first if you want, lass. It’s your choice.”

“What do I do?” she breathed, staring wide-eyed at the wall of wind.

“Walk forward but don’t cross the pillars. The Oracle revealed itself, which means it’s likely to listen to your request. State your petition and wait for it to respond.”

She took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I—”

BOOM.

Georgie released a startled scream as the snow beneath us trembled. Graeme and I grabbed her and tugged her swiftly backward.

“What’s happening?” I shouted at Graeme.

He shook his head, his features pinched with worry as he stared up at the Oracle. “I don’t know. It’s never done this.”

“Should we leave?”

Before he could reply, a gap appeared in the wind directly in front of us. Lightning crackled as it expanded into a doorway. Mist swirled and coalesced into a figure.

I angled my body in front of Georgie’s. Alarms blared in my head, and a sense of panic seized me, urging me to find a weapon or shift to shadow. To grab my mates and run from this place.

Blue light blazed around the figure like an aura. Then it winked out, revealing a handsome man with vibrant red hair and soft, soulful brown eyes. His brown, quilted coat and dark pants looked like a costume from a period film or a museum display.

Graeme sucked in a sharp breath.

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