Page 61 of Not Today, Satan
“Well, that’s entirely unhelpful.”
The shadelings let out an eerie sound that resembles laughter, their teeth clattering in their mouths. Nate unsuccessfully pushes and pulls at the door as their screams crescendo, and a chunk of ice slices my arm before shattering at his feet.
My body goes rigid as Nate gives up on the door and faces the shadelings.
Then they descend.
XXVIII.
The wind whips the snow off the top of the castle, blinding me. A shadeling screams as its leg breaks in half with a loud snap and it tumbles to the ground. It stares at the stump in confusion before another shadeling pries it from the snow and whips it in our direction. It falls harmlessly at Nate’s feet.
My stomach lurches, and I turn away to study the lock through narrowed eyes. It’s a padlock, but it appears to be made of the same dense ice as the rest of the castle. Under normal circumstances, I’d make quick work of it, but I have no clue how long my powers need to reset—which would’ve been way more helpful to learn in school than How to Hang a Human From Their Fingernails 101.
“Bring me closer to the entrance,” I utter into Nate’s ear. “I’m going to try and melt it.”
When I’m close enough, I press my palm into the spot where the lock meets the frame and hold my breath.
Please let this work.
Heat bursts from my hand, and the ice transforms into water under my fingers. I exhale as the lock drops off the door and puddles at our feet. Thank goodness for small favors.
A shadeling cries out behind us, and Nate yanks the handle. The door screeches against the snow as it slides open, the abrasive sound grating against my spine.
We slip through the gap, Nate angling his body so that my ankle doesn’t hit the frame, and he slams the door.
I close my eyes as the walls soften their screams and my head clears.
“Can you seal us in?” Nate asks breathlessly.
“I think so.” I hold my palm over the gap between the door and the frame and melt the two into a solid wall of ice. Nate tries the door handle, and it doesn’t budge. I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes. “That should keep them out for now.”
I jump as something thuds against the door, and I meet Nate’s eyes. We stare at each other in horror as a second thud rattles the door and walls. Then another. And another.
What the here is happening?
“It’s like they’re throwing their bodies into the castle,” Nate whispers.
“They are.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as bones crack in unison and howls of pain seep through the walls. Nate pulls me closer and I press my face into his chest as the sounds slow, then finally stop.
“They’re gone,” he says.
Raising my head, I listen with pricked ears. The only sounds are Nate’s deep breaths and the soft tap of snow brushing against the walls. I relax into his arms and nod against his shoulder, which is as frigid as the ice surrounding us. “We’re good. But we need to find somewhere for you to warm up and me to heal this ankle.”
He clicks his tongue in appreciation as we move deeper into the castle, the sound echoing around us. “This is beautiful.”
My eyes widen as I scan the room. “I had no idea Father had it in him.”
We’re in a grand hallway made entirely of ice. A winding staircase leads to a level above us, each side of it flanked with tall pillars and benches.
The walls are opaque and there are no windows down here, so the only light comes from the chandelier over our heads, exploding across the floor in rainbow spheres.
“How is nothing melting?” Nate asks, extending his neck to study the light.
“Same way we have a lake of blood and a river of fire,” I say. “Magic.”
“Should we go upstairs? Maybe there’s a bed in this place.” He clears his throat and looks at the floor. “Or two.”
