“Oh, stuff it,” Endera said. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Conjure up a spell to keep warm.”
Nelly called up a ball of witchfire, and the other girls held their hands over it to warm themselves.
“Safina, go get that bag. Maybe the captain left us some supplies.”
The witchling scrambled over the ice, grabbed the bag, and dragged it back to where they stood.
“Open it,” Endera commanded.
Safina undid the buckles and opened the duffel. It contained nothing more than the cloaks they’d brought on board.
Endera dropped to her knees and pushed the cloaks aside, rummaging in the bag. “Tell me he left us some food … Ugh!” She pounded her fist in the snow. “There’s nothing useful in here.”
“Everyone, take your cloak,” Safina said calmly. “That’s something—it will help us stay warm.”
Glorian and Nelly eagerly wrapped theirs around their shoulders.
“You think a cloak is going to stop us from freezing once the sun goes down?” Endera snapped. “A cloak isn’t going to stop the cold sapping the life out of our bones.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Safina said. “We just need to find shelter.”
Endera glared at her. “We’re on a frozen river. Have you seen the cliffs rising up on either side? The captain left us here to die.”
“Which we’re not going to do,” Safina said. “Abigail would have found a way. We just have to follow her tracks, and we’ll get off this river.”
Endera’s rage spiraled higher and higher until she wanted to explode. Glorian was shivering. Nelly looked terrified. Safina was the only calm one. And suddenly, that made Endera calm.
“Don’t tell me what to do, firstling. Obviously I was going to follow Abigail’s tracks. I was just pointing out that if we don’t get moving, things will get bad.” She pushed past the girl and began stalking along the ice, scouring the ground for clues as to where Abigail had gone. There were different sets of tracks, as if more than one group had passed through here, but all of them headed upriver.
She spied a smallish boot print and knelt, running her fingers along it. It had iced over, but it left the strangest feeling. As if it belonged to someone she knew. A friend.
“What is it?” Nelly blew into her hands. “You see a way out of here?”
“No.” Endera stood. “It’s nothing.”
As if a witch ever had friends, she reminded herself. She refused to think his name, but a face with a sheaf of brown hair floated into her mind, and a half smile crossed her face.
Chapter 16
Hugo didn’t want to complain, but he couldn’t feel his toes. Or his knees, for that matter. The snow was so deep they kept breaking through the crusty surface and sinking up to their waists. And the white stuff was still falling—as if the sky held an endless supply. His chest burned when he breathed in the frigid air, even though he was sweating with the effort of plowing forward.
“Abigail, I’m sorry … I just need … to rest,” he puffed.
“Not much farther, Hugo,” she said, stubbornly wading on. “We just have to get to that rock over there. If we climb on top, we’ll be able to see a long ways.”
The rock was just visible through the trees, perched atop the hill they had been steadily climbing.
Hugo sighed as he slogged after her. “It’s going to be dark soon. If we don’t find shelter …”
“I know, we’ll freeze,” she said over her shoulder. “Really, Hugo, you should find something original to say.”
“It’s just that I don’t want to freeze to death.”
“And I said we’ll find shelter as soon as we get to the top of that rock.” She pointed at the large boulder. “We’ll be able to see everything from there. Maybe we’ll see where this giant’s ice castle is.”
“Or maybe we’ll see more trees and snow,” Hugo muttered.
“I heard that.”
“Well, it’s true.”
“Why are you always so negative?”
“I’m just being logical. The odds are that all we’ll see is what we see now—trees and more trees.”
“The giants have to live somewhere, which means cities. Big ones, I imagine. So if we get to the highest point, don’t you think it’s possible we’ll see signs of them?”
Hugo stopped, gasping for air. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just—”
“Tired.” Abigail blew on her hands. Frost crusted her eyelashes, and her cheeks were chapped and red under her wool cap. “So am I.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Because I can’t give up, can I? If Robert gets to Thor first, we’ll have to stop him. And I don’t want to do that.”
“I know.”
“So we have to find this giant’s lair and then bargain with Thor for his hammer. Otherwise I’ll never be able to fix all the mistakes.” A tear slipped from her eye and quickly froze on her cheek before she turned and continued on.
“None of this is your fault,” Hugo called after her. “Vertulious had centuries to make his plan.”
She stopped, her hands fisting at her sides. “I know. I still should have seen what he was really up to.”
Hugo waded to her side. “How? You’re only a secondling. You don’t even have all your powers.”
“I had enough to help Vertulious, didn’t I?” she snapped back, and then immediately her face changed. “I’m sorry.” She put a hand to her head. “Every time I remember that night, I just … I can still hear his voice. It’s like the spell-book still has its hooks in me.”
“Is that why you threw it into the sea?”
She nodded grimly. “Yes. To be sure it could never come back.”
“Why do you think Capricorn wanted it so badly?”
“I don’t know.” She turned as a twig snapped loudly nearby. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, probably just an animal. I’ve seen hoblets running around.”
“That was too big for a hoblet. Show yourself,” she called, conjuring a ball of witchfire. “Now, before I burn this entire forest down.”
“Don’t hurt us,” a voice whispered timidly. “We means you no harm.”
A pathetic-looking creature peered around the trunk of a tree, then stepped into view. Frizzled hair poked out of a threadbare cap, and ragged clothes covered her stout figure. One snaggletooth poked down over her bottom lip, and her eyes bulged, rolling in different directions as she studied them. “You seems too smarts to be out in this cold,” she said as she shuffled closer. “Izmerelda doesn’t thinks children should be out here alls alone.”
“Who’s Izmerelda?” Hugo asked.
“I’s Izmerelda.” She got close enough to poke a finger at Hugo. “Aren’t you a strapping boy? There’s meat on them bones.”
She chuckled, but Hugo saw the flash of malice in her eyes. He took a step back. “Abigail, I think these are the troll hags Rego warned us about.”