A Baby for the Snow Beast

Chapter 7: The Reveal

SHANA

All thoughts of death and dismemberment fled from my head as I spy the sight below me. The city is a vision of crystal and ice, glittering in iridescent multicolored decadence. It's straight out of a movie, and I wonder briefly if I'm still trapped in the blizzard, experiencing a fever dream.

The entire place is a vision of grandiosity, a magical city. It's unbelievable, and yet, here I am. A roughhewn castle looms a little farther in the distance, its turrets so high they disappear into the fog covered peaks of the mountain behind it.

Below sits the city—Frostwynn, Penn said. It suits its name. I see beasts milling about, going into shops and restaurants. Giants of all shapes and sizes, all in varying shades of white and silver. Women carry bags. Men carry children. It's noisy and bustling, and in some ways, it reminds me of the home I'd left.

They may not be humans, but they're living, breathing, conscientious beings who love and lose just like we do. My worldview shifts in this moment. I always knew there were amazing, fantastical things in the world, but I never imagined I'd see something like this.

Penn nudges Wyn forward, and as the horse starts to move, the fear returns. He's boldly walking me into the city as if the threat of death is a mere suggestion. I stiffen in my seat. "Shouldn't we go another way?" I murmur.

The air is warmer here, and I realize my shivers have diminished to almost unnoticeable levels. Penn's cloak is still comfortable, but if it gets any warmer, I'll have to shed it. The thought of it sends a spear of fear through me. If I took the cloak off, I'd stick out like a sore thumb, so I tug it closer instead, ensuring my dark hair is tucked underneath the voluminous folds. The lower we go, the warmer it gets until my fingers and toes start to defrost, drawing a soft breath of relief.

The gates of Frostwynn loom in front of us, grandiose pillars of ice made of loops and decorative swirls. There's a faint shimmer to it, as if it operates via magic. Nothing would surprise me anymore.

As I glance around, I realize the surrounding forest and mountains protect the kingdom from inclement weather. They're obviously a hardy people, but even if this place receives the storm of a lifetime, their town will survive with minimal damage. Whoever built the place was clever.

I repeat my question about going in another way, but Penn's attention is focused forward. "Penn," I hiss, "just take me to your house. We can go through the stables. I don't mind hiding there."

Penn never told me what he did in this kingdom. His powerful body suggests work as a guard or a blacksmith. Perhaps he's someone from a humble background—a farmer or tradesman. Either way, he shouldn't risk his life for a stranger.

When he speaks, his voice is strong and resolute, the choice in it tugging at my emotions. "I've made my decision. The others will have to live with it."

I glance up at him, only to see his jaw clenched. A soft sigh escapes me. "But what if they kill me?" I ask.

I'm surprised when he laughs. "They can try." His words are ominous and send a shiver of foreboding down my spine.

"I'd rather they not try at all," I grumble mostly to myself. While his courage is admirable and impressive, it doesn't stop me from doubting the wisdom of this direct approach.

As we ride closer, I see two enormous Snow Beast sentries standing before the gates, strapped to the teeth with weapons. My heart beats wildly in my chest, and I lean back, trying to burrow into Penn.

Without a word, Alfryd spears his horse into a trot and rides toward the sentries. "Open the gates!" he barks.

I blink at the command in his voice. Who knew quiet Alfryd had it in him?