Then one lash hits my back, cutting into my healing skin and mixing my blood with my brothers before he returns to Mikal. My hand reaches for my brother’s, and I squeeze his fingers tight.
“How touching,” the prince says. “The bitch and the bastard holding hands. Not so happy she volunteered you to come now, are you, Mikal?”
Then he wraps the length of the chain around my neck once and yanks on my leash, pulling me back so he can lean down and look me in the eyes while I choke. Mikal grunts in protest, and Prince Keksej’s hand shoots out as if to grab my chin. Our eyes connect while his hot fingers hover inches from my face.
I wonder what would happen if I lowered my head, forcing him to touch me and break his father's rules. But my own personal victories mean more pain for Mikal, who struggles to stand.Mi pobre hermanito.7
"You make me forget why I wish to be kind," he says. “Both your disobedience and your brother's position put you at risk—I do this so the others do not try to take advantage of you."
The warrior drags Mikal away, and I can feel tears falling down my face and freezing.
“Now, back to your duty,” Keksej says and starts to move.
I am so scared; I am so tired. But the punishment is over, so I silently follow, not daring to look back at the prince or the blood coating the ground between us. When I look at the skyline, I see the mountain looming before us. We are close.
"Estela," the prince murmurs while everyone is focusing on Mikal's bloody back, which is making the harness slippery.
I hate the way my name sounds on his lips. His giant pronunciation is coarse.
“TinyEstela, you have one last chance. Obey me, or I will let the trolls steal you. You’ll beg for mercy, calling out my name while they rip you to shreds.” He smirks as if he enjoys the thought. “Then who will take care of Mikal?"
My lips curl back as I bite my tongue. The mist snakes between us while he lets his words sit for mere moments before handing me over to the warrior. The back of his shaggy hair hangs down around his shoulders, and I imagine his head being parted from his neck.
I look at my brother and shuffle over, pretending the prince's threat is carried away by the haze as we continue walking.
“It’s not your fault,” Mikal whispers in the human tongue.
I loathe myself. My mind starts to spin, and I lose feeling in my fingertips while fear and anger drug my senses. He wouldn't have been hurt if it wasn't for me. So I remain silent, keeping my head high and following the warrior with my chin up until we exit the mists.
Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis…8
The air still smells like blood, and it’s hard to breath in all the clammy humidity. Arlet hums, and my eyes turn to my brother. “I’ll get you bandaged as soon as we are inside, Mikal,” Arlet says.
I know her well enough to hear the guilt in her voice.
“No need, Arlet,” I say. Reaching out from the cloud-like air, I take his hand and put in a few chewing leaves I stole last night after my whipping. “I will take care of you,mi amor.” Since my angry words cannot leave my lips, I think them while Mikal puts the medicine in his mouth.Forgive me for not being able to do more. I will curse those damn giants from the afterlife if I die on this trip.
Sergi chuckles at the exchange. “Damn fools. You really thought you could escape? You better say your prayers to whatever god you believe in. Enduares, trolls, however you call them, they are monsters. I was the only one who returned last trip.”
All the things Prince Keksej has told me play through my head repeatedly while I pull through the snow. Counting is bitter, but it’s all I have to calm my mind.
Diesiseis, diesisiete, diesiocho…9
I fight to hold back my fear, but it keeps growing. My plan is in shambles—we were never supposed to go all the way to the mountains. Finally, the mists start to lighten. It starts slowly, until I can see just how close we’ve gotten to the entrance of the Enduar Mountain.
“Halt!” the First Prince calls, and I obey.
The cave looms before us, red veins of rock swirling like a river of blood instead of an entrance to a mountain. I shudder. The crash of the ocean to the left feels at odds with the blanket of white stretching out next to the entrance. I look at the mountain, eerily peaceful away from all the trees below.
“Por los dioses,”10Arlet says, cutting off my fears.
Standing in the edges of the mist are pale blue beings, each one standing like a sentinel on the icy beach, arranged in a formidable line of defense. The sight alone fills me with dread as I take in the spears, armor, and swords they wield.
Trolls.
The way they stare at us now, ready to kill without a word, is worse than my imagination. Their muscles are impressive even through the layers of thick clothing. I fear what their strength means for our human bodies.
There are three massive cave bears chained with leashes not much different from my own. They snarl as a giant warrior approaches. A cannon sits in their midst, ready to fire its payload of red-hot, glowing stones, watched over by a magic-wielding troll as if guarding a dragon's hoard. I hone in on that lava, held into balls by magic, thinking about the volcano used to blow up half the continent during the war. Many giants and humans died on that day.