Page 101 of Blood Beneath the Snow

I pulled my horse back by the reins, ignoring its unhappy snortand stomp. Apparently this mount had no qualms about going into combat. I cast one last glance down at the battlefield, wondering if Søren was there to turn the tide before moving back to where I’d stashed my brother.

My chest filled with panic when Frode’s horse came into view without its rider. I glanced around and saw him instantly. He was curled up in the snow, hands over his ears, trembling like an autumn leaf about to fall. I stared at his green eyes, the whites so prominent, they matched the snow behind him.

“Come here, Frode,” I said, bending to put an arm underneath his shoulders. I pulled until he sat up and used my other hand to pull my cloak off and drape it around him. The wet snow would soak through his clothes and freeze again, leaving him frostbitten if he wasn’t careful.

I pulled him to his feet. “W-w-w-what the he-hell is hap-p-pening?” he gasped out.

“Down there? Ambush,” I said, hauling him toward my horse. There was no way he could ride on his own. “We’re going back to camp.”

“W-w-we are?” I could hear the relief in his voice, and it was enough for me to hurry my efforts.

But before I could push him into the saddle, I saw a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye. I had to drop Frode in order to bring my sword up in time to parry a slash from a lone Kryllian soldier.

We were both breathing heavily as we stared at each other. I didn’t know him; his dark hair and eyes were typical Kryllian features. But he raised a hand and a huge expanse of snow rose up behind me like a wave, blocking the bright glow of the sun and drenching me in shadow.

I barely managed to dodge the wave as it came down, grunting as I hurled all my force into a counterattack. The soldier’s moves werepracticed, every slice flawless—a deadly opponent. But he hadn’t trained under the Hellbringer’s strict tutelage.

Every strike was met by a swift parry of my own, keeping him too preoccupied to use his magic. Soon enough, I saw a gap in his dance, perfect for me to lunge forward, twist my sword, and shove it through the space between his ribs until I knew I’d struck his heart.

The soldier choked, gasping for air, and stared at his fatal wound. I pulled my blade out of him; there was no sense in leaving him to suffer longer for cruelty’s sake.

He collapsed to his knees, the bright red stain in violent contrast with the pure white snow.

I didn’t know what came next. Guilt? Relief?

Neither emotion rose to pull me from my numbness. Instead, I was met with a flutter of excitement. I had done it. I had fought a Lurae and won.

“Revna?” Frode’s voice was hoarse. “I’m cold.”

“Oh, shit.” I left the lifeless body to rest in the snow and hauled Frode up, grateful the soldier hadn’t managed to bury him during the attack. In a few moments my brother sat in the saddle and I managed to situate myself behind him, my arms around his waist.

I turned in the direction we came from and we started making our way back to camp.

26

Our undercover soldiers, off onmissions to gather intelligence behind enemy lines, returned at the same time as the rest of the army, dragging a snarling Kryllian in one of our uniforms with them. “Spy,” I heard them inform my father. The king only grunted before disappearing into his tent with the newly captured prisoner and all my brothers except Frode. Agonized screams echoed through the camp for two hours before the man broke and revealed crucial information.

“Gather your weapons,” my father announced when Frode and I joined the rest of our family at Jac’s summons. “We are headed to their secret camp in the east. That’s where the Hellbringer is hiding.”

I heard him, but my mind was occupied with the gruesome sight of the spy, still tied to the chair they’d left him in. He was dead, head hanging limp and eyes sightless. He had been burned from the knees down; all that remained were charred bits of flesh on bone. A knife was buried in his back and blood dripped from his lifeless eyes and mouth.

“Jac will impersonate the spy,” my father continued. “If we move fast enough, word of his capture will not have reached them yet. Hewill infiltrate the camp and learn where the Hellbringer will be at his most vulnerable. Frode will listen for his signal, and when it’s given, we will move in.”

Björn nodded, Erik’s face serious. I turned away from the corpse to glance at Frode. Did they actually know the Hellbringer’s location, or had the spy managed to give them false information?

Frode shrugged subtly at my thought. I knew the likelihood of us catching and killing Søren was slim to none, but it didn’t stop my heart from beating faster in my chest, my stomach twisting at the thought of someone hurting him. Would I be able to stand back and watch without intervening while they tried?

Only time would tell.

A soldier came and hauled away the spy’s body while my brothers strapped their armor on and grabbed their weapons. As soon as we were all prepared, we departed into the crisp afternoon.

It was dark when myfather signaled we had arrived.

The woods obscured the dim lantern Björn lit. Jac dismounted, and I watched with fascination as he turned into an identical copy of the Kryllian spy. The transformation was like watching a bucket being poured over my brother’s head, but instead of water, a new identity washed over him. His hair turned light blond and grew out, his joints popped as he heightened several inches, and his eyes changed color.

Once he finished transforming, he dressed in the armor they had pulled off the spy before torturing him. Underneath, the too-big training garb I’d wondered about earlier was now a perfect fit.

We watched with bated breath as Jac’s shadow disappeared into the darkness. The tiny glow of a campfire flickered in the distance, tents arranged in a half circle around it. Occasional figures from the camp passed by, silhouetted against the small fire.

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