“I’m looking for some missing people,” I say, because what else can I possibly do? I’ve never had a situation I couldn’t get out of with something sharp.
Threydan steps away from me until his back hits the ice wall, leaving the exit clear. “I will help you find them. Then you will help me exact my revenge. I have it on good authority you excel at that.”
Horror seizes me in place for a full second as I realize he must have seen one of my memories just as I saw one of his. “What did you see?” I ask, tightening my grip on my daggers.
“You were so little, yet you dealt death so beautifully.”
My breathing picks up. I want to kill. I envision knives sticking through his skin. Blood dripping from a dozen cuts. His look of agony just before his eyes go blank …
A morsel of sense wheedles its way through my murderous thoughts. I start to inch my way toward the exit, taking careful steps, ready to back away should Threydan prove to be a dishonorable liar.
When I reach the tunnel entrance, Threydan moves as if he means to follow, and I raise my knives higher.
“I’m not about to stay in here,” he says, looking around. “It’s all right, Sora.”
That nickname coming from his lips almost makes me double over. I haven’t heard it in over a decade. I didn’t give him permission to use it.
Consequences be damned, I raise one of my knives and fling it. It lands square in his throat.
But Threydan doesn’t choke.
Doesn’t fall.
Doesn’t die.
He pulls out the knife and examines it.
Kearan’s cursing comes from behind me. And I inch back another step.
The sound of cracking ice thunders around me, and there is a rumbling above my head. Threydan and I both look at the ceiling. I register the ice above us crumbling, just as I realize I must have stepped on another pressure plate I missed the first time around.
A large shard of ice tumbles down, shattering against Threydan’s head and sending him toppling to the ground. At the same time, hands grip my hips fiercely and pull me backward.
Kearan hauls me out of the tunnel. When we reach the cavern on the other side, he shoves me ahead of him and yells, “Run!”
Just this once, I obey.
I slip onto my arse three different times as I try to make my escape back through the rooms of frozen skeletons. Kearan is not so quiet as he keeps up with me, just a step behind, though he sometimes manages to keep his feet better than I do.
Because I’m still reeling from the encounter. I saw things I shouldn’t have. I was distracted enough by them that he was able tokissme. And I don’t feel right in my skin anymore.
I can’t feel the freezing temperature around me. There is nothing except my heart, which feels too hot within my chest. I would swear it has its own sentience. Pounding and turning and writhing with heat. It isn’t painful exactly, but it’s impossible to ignore.
And then I remember the moment my dagger pierced his heart. The way it changed me. The way it was drawing some sort of essence out of me. My stomach turns.
I shoot out through the last tunnel, finally landing aboveground. I fall to my knees in the snow and wretch and wretch and wretch. Up comes my breakfast and last night’s dinner and anything else that might have been within my system.
My ponytail is pulled behind my back the moment I start to heave, Kearan holding it out of the way from behind me.
When I think I’m done, I grab a handful of snow and shove it into my mouth. I know it should feel so cold against my teeth that it burns. But there’s nothing. No registering of the temperature.
Yet it still melts, and I swish it about and spit. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Don’t think about the fact that snow doesn’t feel cold anymore. That’s theleast of your concerns.
“Did he … kiss you?” Kearan asks.
My body convulses again, but there is nothing left to upend.