“So they do not work so hard to scale the ice paths, nor will they struggle to ford through the snow drifts,” the groomsman had explained as he passed the reins to Geri into Sigurd’s hands. “They are good beasts. As fine as their namesakes. Good luck on your journey, and in your war.”
“Thanks,” Sigurd murmured, though Bryn was stony beside him. She wore her stress on her features, her face pinched with worry.
They rode in silence with their escort. When he glanced toward their rear, Sigurd noticed their hooves left no tracks, like the jotuns.
“Here is where we will part. I must warn you, our scouts have encountered men hunting you. The Hotlands king knew you sought us, and his men have tracked you to the Frozen Wastes.”
“I suspected he would,” Bryn said stiffly. “I apologize for that.”
“We will do what we can to buy time for you. Continue south but travel with haste. As long as your beasts wear our barding, they will no longer disturb the snow.”
“Thank you,” Bryn said as graciously as she could.
Their guides returned the way they had come, vanishing into the snow without a trace. Sigurd wished he had their skill.
“It will storm tonight,” Bryn said, breaking the silence. “We need to move swiftly and take shelter before the snows begin to fall.”
The only advantage to winter storms was that the blizzard covered all evidence of their passage that the barding could not conceal. A reduction in visibility hindered discovery by their pursuers, but Sigurd had learned through experience how cold it could be traversing the eastern ranges. The wind cut through his furs and threatened to freeze his fingertips.
By day, they traveled as far as they could across the frozen plains; at night they hid in whatever shelter they could find, lying close together with the horses flanking them for warmth. The Tears of the Mountain proved their value time and time again. By the fourth night, the snowfall had diminished and they came across the same farmhouse as before.
Freki and Geri appreciated four walls as much as their riders, both horses nickering with gratitude as they hustled into the barn. Sigurd laughed and brought in water while Bryn unsaddled them and tore open another sack of sprouted grains and oats for their feeding trough.
When they finally trudged into the home, Bryn rubbed her hands together. “Finally, a bed.”
“You don’t think Gunnar’s men will find us here?”
“Not if they believe we’re still in Jotunheim. I’m confident we’ve avoided them.”
“Glad to hear that. Now then, get into bed, and I’ll start a small fire. Something warm in our bellies will do us both some good.”
“Don’t forget to charge the stones. We will need them if we encounter another storm.”
“I won’t.”
Bryn passed out into a deep sleep not long after they finished the stew they managed to throw together from their rations. He tucked her into the blankets and furs then added another log to the fire.
“Psst! Camden.”
Hearing his name made him wonder if he was more tired than he thought. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, twisting in a full circle to scan the room.
“Cam, over here.”
“Cara?” The sound of his sister’s voice came from across the room, where a small oval mirror hung on the wall. The dusty surface shimmered in the flickering light, but as he drew nearer, he made out her features.
“Of course it’s me, you nitwit. Who else would be scrying for you?”
Still hardly believing his eyes, Sigurd braced an arm against the wall and used the other to buff away months of dust and grime until his sister came into clearer focus.
“It is you,” he whispered.
Cara grinned. “Thank Eisen, it’s so good to see your face.”
“You too.” He reached out instinctively, fingers touching the mirror rather than his sister’s cheek. Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Soon,” she promised.
“Not soon enough.” He laughed and dropped his hand back to his side. “After you escaped, I hoped… I had no real idea if you actually made it.”
“We did. Not everyone, but most of us.”
“Who…?”
“Amun,” she relayed sadly. “He bought the rest of us time to escape. He never caught up with us. I can only assume he died, as he said he would take death over enslavement again.”
“I’m so sorry, Cara.”
“So am I.” She glanced away a moment and he waited, knowing she was getting herself under control. When she looked back, she had a smile on her face. “Enough sad talk. It’s you I want to know about. How have they been treating you? Are you…well?”
“I’m good, Cara. Really. But matters in this kingdom are unstable. It was too much to explain to your…” He frowned, trying to come up with the proper word. It had not liked the term demon. “What was that thing?”
“My familiar,” she replied, smile widening into a smug grin. “I learned a new spell and summoned him.”
“Well, he was…” He struggled to find a word that wouldn’t insult his sister’s companion. “Impressive.”
“He called you names, didn’t he?” she asked, laughter in her voice.
“He did, the wretched beast. I’ve never seen anything like him.”
“Neither have I, truth be told. I’ll tell you the whole story when we’re together again.”
The thought of reuniting with his twin filled him with hope and warmth, and a keen longing that made his heart ache.
“I look forward to that day, though I fear it may not ever come.”
“Don’t say that, Camden. We’ll see each other again. I swear it.”
“Actually…the name is Sigurd now.”
His sister squinted. “Come again?”
“Another long story, for yet another time. I shouldn’t have said anything. Anyway, how are you? What’s happening in Eisland?”
“I’m not in Eisland, actually. I’m on Hook’s ship, sailing for Wai Alei with our fleet.”
“What? Why?”
“You said you needed help. Following Minuet’s arrival, I took your message to Rapunzel and Joren at once. I can only assume that this queen you serve has noble intentions.”
“I do,” Bryn said, moving up behind him.
Sigurd jumped. He hadn’t even realized Bryn was awake, causing a guilty flush to warm his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep.”
“You didn’t,” Bryn assured him. Her curious gaze darted toward the mirror, where an equally curious Cara stared back.
Sigurd swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “I know you two have met, but—”
“Not in the best of circumstances,” Bryn finished for him, placing her hand on his shoulder. She put the other hand over her heart and bowed. “For my part in your imprisonment, I cannot ask your forgiveness. I can only ask that you allow me to prove myself to you now.”
Cara’s gaze flicked between them and he could easily imagine the cogs turning in her mind as she took in every detail. He knew his twin too well. “I’m sure a time will come where we can sit down together and discuss what was done.”