Page 125 of Autumn Queens & Shadows

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Please.”

“Don’t, Thora.”

Sighing, I dropped my brow against the ice wall, trying to look at him through the foggy surface. I stayed like that for a long while. Long, long while. Until my eyes were drifting shut.

Trying to not nod off became harder when the forest lullaby grew louder. Birds. Wind. All sorts sang me to a devious sleep. Almost as if they were trying to lure me deep inside my dreams.

Birds.

Wind.

There were none around us.

Where were the sounds even coming from?

Jerking awake, I banged on the wall of ice. “Malik, there is something wrong.” After giving him some time to stir awake and answer me, I decided to panic. “Malik?” I couldn't see him all that well now that it was so dark. “Malik?”

All then went quiet as I listened for any noise to indicate he was still there.

“This is not the time to play around, Mal, please.”

The ice beneath my palms morphed and I jerked back when it took the shape of a glowy face I recognised. “Run,” Lilith whispered. “Fast, Thora. Their Crafters are coming, they’ve followed your scent along the ice wall.”

After tearing my dagger across the skirts of my nightgown, I ran until the wind almost carried me with it, her reflection following me along the ice wall.

How was she doing that?

“Towards the forest. Not along the wall or they will find you.”

“No,” I panted, forcing my feet to go faster. “He is on that other side.”

The damn wall seemed to have no end, stretching for miles and miles. The further I went, the more it dawned on me.

“No, don’t stop,” the small figure in the ice said, pressing her palms to the wall surface when I slowed down.

“Lilith, why do you want me to run? I’ve fought Crafters with and without magic.”

“They come prepared. Holding your deepest, darkest fears.” She quietened for a moment and my steps faltered. “They saw right through them when they injured your husband. They will now make you face them.”

“Mal. Where is Mal?”

“Far from danger.”

“Put the wall down.”

“I can’t. It’s not Craft, nor the magic of an Aura.”

“Then what is it?”

“A magic of a far older kind.”

“What?”

“It has a life of its own like every living thing. It was dead for a while in Isjord, but it has revived again.”

“I’ve done that, haven’t I? When Visha removed my seal.”