Cold Spell

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I blink, unsure when, exactly, it got bright enough for me to see. It’s gray outside, misty and monochrome. Wind rattles the naked branches of the tree outside the hotel room window, sending wafts of snow across the balcony.

Lucas is still asleep—did I sleep at all? I’m not sure. I rise, grimacing as my joints crack, and pull the blanket off my bed. Tightening it around my body, I open the sliding glass door a crack, pausing to see if Lucas stirs… he doesn’t. I step outside onto the balcony, the wood so cold it burns the soles of my feet. The air is still and mean, biting at any exposed skin, making it difficult to keep my eyes open.

Our hotel is at the top of a small hill dotted by trees with fat trunks. Ice is perfectly balanced along the tops of branches, like an outline. Every now and then I hear a cracking sound that reminds me of a gunshot, a rumbling, and then see a quick burst of movement—branches giving way to the added weight of the ice and snow.

I blink a few times, then stare across the lake. Is that the island? It’s far, a gray shadow on the horizon, and it takes me a long time to decide if it’s a cloud or land—it isn’t until the wind blows some of the mist away that I’m certain it’s Isle Royale. I wonder if Mora knows I’m still following her, or if she thinks I gave up after Nashville.

I wonder if Kai knows that I haven’t given up yet. Surely. He knows me, better than anyone. I close my eyes and think for a moment about the way he’d pull me close when I said something funny. The way he’d laugh and kiss my forehead and tell me without saying a word that he loved me. I want that right now, so badly—not only to be reminded Kai loves me, but to laugh with him again. Just one more time.

I start to lean on the balcony railing, but it’s caked in ice so clear it looks as if it’s wrapped in cellophane. The wind gusts again, blowing snow like dust down the embankment leading to the lake, across the lake’s surface—it’s frozen over. I look at it curiously; I’ve never seen something like that outside of movies. Leaves and brush are blowing across the surface, disappearing into the fog.

Something stirs in the brush in the woods. Something alive and warm-looking, picking its way through the trees. I lean forward, squinting—a deer. It picks its legs up high, taking giant, exaggerated steps to move through the snow. I wonder how Flannery’s deer is doing, now that it’s free.

The deer pauses; its ears prick forward—listening, waiting, watching. It moves again, to the ice, and takes several steps out on it. After a few cautious licks at the ground, the deer lifts its head and begins to slowly, surely, walk out toward the center of the lake. Toward the island.

So that’s how Mora gets there.

It must be. It’s her ice, it’s her world—of course it’s thick enough to hold her.

I inch the sliding glass door open again, overwhelmed when the heated air hits me. I silently put on a pair of jeans, thick socks, shoes, gloves, and long sleeves. I pull Flannery’s knife from its sheath, inspect the blade, and tuck it into my coat pocket.

Just see if the ice will hold you. Get an idea of things. I lie to myself over and over, ignoring the real reason I’m sneaking out: I’m afraid Kai has already changed, afraid Lucas is right. Afraid I’ll have to kill him.

And I’m not sure I can do that in front of everyone. Like he told me once, in the end, it’s just us. Even if it means I’m outnumbered. Even if it means he kills me first.

I grab a room key and let myself out, hurrying downstairs to the shop. It’s empty, though the cases are already packed with pastries and bagels.

“Morning,” the clerk says. “Looking for breakfast?”

“No, thanks,” I say, walking over to the counter. “I just need some sort of flashlight.”

I stumble down the embankment with decidedly less grace than the deer, following her footprints, destroying them as I go. The hotel windows watch me—I keep looking back, certain I’ll see Lucas’s panicked face at ours. It doesn’t happen. The world is silent and peaceful. I pause at the edge of the lake, looking at the yellow glow behind the clouds, the sun’s desperate attempt to break through. It’s no match for Mora’s power.

I put a foot out onto the lake, cringing, waiting to hear it crack.

Nothing.

I pull my other foot across, so that my weight is on the ice entirely. Still nothing. A step, another, another. I shine the flashlight down, hoping I’ll be able to tell if the ice is solid or thin, but it doesn’t help much. I can feel my heart shaking, begging me to turn around and go back to shore. No, not now. Another step, another. I turn and look at the hotel—still no signs of life. No one will be here to save me if it gives. The air is so cold already—the water must be like knives. It would kill me quickly, perhaps more kindly than whatever awaits me on the island, but I at least want a chance to fight….

Another nervous step, but I begin to grow more confident. I move faster, always pausing as I bring my foot down. I move farther and farther onto the lake, toward the sun, the island. When I turn around to look at the hotel again, it’s in the distance, a football field or two away.

There’s no point in looking back again.

She’s not really a queen. She’s a girl, a lonely girl. She’s lost everything, and she’s just trying to make up for it now. I keep my flashlight trained on the ground in front of me even as the sky lightens. I think I can see the island now, a dark mass ahead. It’s huge, so big it almost looks as if I’ve crossed the lake entirely and am on a new shore. It’s getting colder; my eyes are watering, and my ears feel as if they’d break off my body if someone hit them too hard.

I hear a clattering sound; I grab Flannery’s knife from its sheath and clench my fingers around it even though it’s so cold I can’t feel them. Something is running at me, coming from ahead. Something moving faster, faster, faster. I try to remember everything Flannery told me about knife fighting. Wait for your moment, don’t try to create it—

The creature behind the noise finally breaks through the fog. I see its eyes first, the frenzied, panicked look in them, wide and trembling—

It’s the deer. I duck down as she bolts toward me, skids on the ice, and nearly slams into me. Her legs are like sticks being thrown around, falling all the wrong ways as she rushes back the way we came. I turn and watch her go, then stare into the mist, waiting for whatever scared her to come charging through.

If Kai is a wolf, will I recognize him?

I imagine a monster with his eyes, fur the color of his hair. That’s what I’ll see next. That’s what will come at me. The fog is thick, a curtain that’s taking a moment too long to reveal its secrets. The sound of the deer running away fades, and the world is silent again, still.

I’m shaking, but I take another step forward. Keep moving. The deer may be running from Mora, but Mora is running from me. I think about what Flannery told me, about fighting—before you start, know who is going to win. I know it will be me. I know it will be me.

I’m lying. I don’t know anything. But it keeps me moving.

I push through the fog—I can hear the sounds of branches on the island ahead breaking now. The ice beneath me grows uneven, the snow thicker. I’m several yards in before I realize I’m not walking on the lake anymore; I’m walking on the shore.

I’m on Isle Royale.