The Angel of Frost

XIII.

Jonah ran through the forest, pumping his arms. Diana was just ahead. Though her figure was partly obscured by her billowing cloak, the moonlight seeping through the trees made her visible.

He still had his doubts about her, but he was wise enough to realize that she was his last hope. If he wanted a shot at survival in this new world of black snow, he had to trust her.

A rustle sounded off to the left. Jonah panicked and pumped his arms to catch up. He tapped her shoulder. "I heard something."

"I know. Probably more of those monsters. They must have followed us into the forest."

Jonah was tiring, but he sped up his pace, out of pure necessity. "So, what do you suggest we do?"

"Run until we reach the hut," she replied.

He groaned inwardly. Her laconic reply made his tired body protest. He'd need a break soon, judging from the pain in his joints.

"What about that arrow you used earlier? You did manage to trap one of them."

She shook his head. "Considering the monsters' strength, it is probable that the one that I had trapped would have broken free if I hadn't shot him in the head."

Another rustle sounded, this time closer. Images of frozen corpses filled Jonah's head as he wondered whether he would meet the same fate as those who had died in the town hall. "Then why not do that now? We could stop and face them, just like we did earlier."

"The woods here are quite thick. Without a clear view of the perimeter, stopping would set ourselves up for an ambush."

Her reply made him stare at her as they ran side by side. She seemed like a good tactician - too good - for a druidess. The terms she used revealed a possible military background, as well as a skill in strategy. He realized that sticking with her was probably the best decision he would make in the weeks to come.

And then another rustle sounded, and it was very close. The mere sound alone threatened to terrify Jonah.

"So," Jonah said, more to take his mind off the terrifying rustles that sounded behind them than to break the silence, "how far do we have to go before we get to the hut?"

"We're close," was all she said.

The trees thinned out and revealed a clearing, probably once a meadow, now blanketed in snow as black as obsidian. A lone hut stood in the center. Its door was open.

Diana halted a few paces away from the hut. "It's not supposed to be open."

Jonah drew his sword. "If there's an intruder, we'll have to go in."

Diana nodded. "My bow isn't much use in tight spaces, though. Give me a minute. I have to prepare."

Reaching inside her thick cloak, she pulled out a ring of metal from which different chains hung, each supporting vials filled with varied liquids. She hummed a hauting tune, then chanted in a foreign language. Soon, in the cold and dreary atmosphere of the clearing, the warm scent of pine needles wafted into Jonah's nose.

Diana huffed out a misty breath. "I'm ready."

Though a dozen questions were at the tip of his tongue, especially about the odd scent, Jonah merely nodded in acknowledgement and drew his sword. He knew that there was no sense in making more noise than he had to.

After glancing back to make sure Diana was following him, he tiptoed to the door. It was open, but not enough to let him through. Gingerly, he set a finger on the door and pushed it open. He cringed as the hinges creaked loudly. Anyone inside surely would have heard.

The doorway emerged into a hallway, with one door to the right and two to the left. The one on the right was open. He ran towards it, knowing that the element of surprise had been eliminated by the front door's rusty hinges.

He barged inside, grunting as his shoulder hit the heavy oak door. As he looked up, he froze.

Unearthly was the best word to describe what Jonah beheld before his very eyes. Avian in form, with wings of feathered ice and black, it had soulless beads for eyes. It stared at Jonah, unmoving.

Behind him, Diana heaved a relieved sigh.

He kept his sword drawn. Why would Diana be relieved by the sight of this thing? For all he knew, it would probably kill them both.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Jonah, no. This is Hiames, the herald of winter."

Jonah didn't lower his sword. Whatever this Hiames was, he still wanted to make sure he wasn't a threat. "And how are you sure he isn't responsible for the conditions outside?"

"He isn't. Hiames brought winter, but it was a burden he hated to bear. He hated the death the season caused, and the fact that he was the one tasked to bring it."

The avian deity chuckled, clucking his beak. It was like hearing ice thaw in the late weeks of a melting spring. "You are correct, my dear, but not entirely. I have accepted my calling, though it has pained me to cause death."

Then he whirled around and spread his wings, sending a chilling gust across the room. "And I wish to help the creatures that now lurk in the woods outside, patiently waiting for the moment you exit this hut."