Page 76 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
His eyes searched once more for Aislinn, either for the distraction, or because he was always searching for her now. The first thing his eyes searched for when he woke up. The voice he moved towards in the dark. The thing his gaze was threaded towards whenever they were moving.
It won’t work,reminded another voice.
But even though there were a myriad of reasons why it was terrible to even entertain the idea, all of them were eclipsed by the terrifying and pressing possibility of something happening to her, of nothing ever happening at all.
She was still weak from teleporting. She would not last long in a fight. Beau had been sharing his energy with her—he wouldn’t hold out long, either. Minerva was still missing her metal arm. Luna was no fighter, Diana had a minor injury—
They couldn’t afford to fight.
“Min?” whispered Bell. “Can you see the path?”
“No,” she admitted. “It’s been covered by snow.”
Beau moved to the front of the line. “You’re sure?”
“I wish I was,” she said. “All I can say is that Ithinkit’s here. Under all… this.” She gestured to the pile of snow in front of her.
Beau sighed, cracking his knuckles. “Well, all right, then.”
He held out his hands, and the snow started to rumble and churn, blown by some invisible force. Layers peeled away, snowflakes blurring around them.
Caer barely looked as Beau burrowed. His eyes were too busy staring at the army marching, getting closer and closer. Aislinn hovered in the middle of the line, seeing it too, looking like she wasn’t sure whether to assist her brother or draw her sword. Caer wasn’t sure she had enough strength for either.
None of them did.
He chanced a look back at Beau’s efforts—he hadn’t yet hit rock. The army was getting closer and closer…
The chill from earlier passed over him, raking down the back of his neck.
The bodies. The bodies in the snow.
Caer charged forward, ignoring Aislinn’s cry for him to stop. He yanked on Crusher’s reins and spurred him forward, snow churning beneath them. He stopped on top of the sunken pit of snow and skidded to a stop.
The army paused, as if stunned by his actions, before moving again.
Caer dug deep into the snow with his powers, imagining it like a monstrous, tentacled thing, invisible tendrils burrowing past the snow to the bodies beneath. He felt them like stones in his boot, hard, sharp lumps ofnothing.
Which he could turn intosomething.
It was like ripping apart a flimsy cushion, like the bodies were made to have life stuffed back into them, like it was easy.Natural.
A giant fist shot through the snow, followed by an ugly, monstrous body, creaking and groaning with ice as it crawled upright. Others followed—all monsters, horns and lumps and wings and fists that resembled clubs. All they had in common was their iced-over eyes.
This isn’t right,Caer thought, as the monsters stumbled towards the army, bent, twisted bodies limping through the snow.No one should have this power.
The first of the giants met the army, taking out two riders with a single swing of its arm. The horses whinnied. Something cracked, and Caer hated himself more than ever.
It wasn’t enough. Several of the men saw the onslaught coming. They diverged, sweeping around, still charging, still moving. Caer plunged his powers into the snow again, deeper and further. Another wave raced up, another army charged.
For once, they ignored him. For once, they almost seemed to listen—all moving towards the army.
All except one.
One, tall, broad-shouldered, oddly human man, whose gaze seemed fixed on Aislinn.
Aislinn.
“Caer!” She stumbled towards him through the snow, abandoning the others, grabbing his arm. “Come on!”
