Frost & Shadow

Chapter Five

The snow crunched under my boots, each step sending icy shards snapping against my ankles. I tugged my jacket tighter, the wind cutting through the trees like thin knives, biting at the skin that poked out from my scarf and sleeves. Back home, Cole would be keeping Mother busy, helping her patch gloves from the hare hides we hadn’t sold. He had given me another chance to slip away unnoticed. I swallowed a shiver that wasn’t entirely from the cold, remembering the merchant’s reminder about the Fae story. It had been a month, but the tale refused to leave my mind.

I hadn’t found anything in the woods since then. No deer, no sign of life beyond the usual tracks and frozen brush. Our last deer had been cooked into jerky just before it spoiled, stretched into broth and paired with whatever vegetables we could trade or grow. It was enough to survive, barely, and yet my stomach still tightened at the thought of empty days ahead.

I adjusted the strap of my bow across my shoulder, feeling the taut leather bite into my skin. My fingers flexed over the smooth wood, the string humming faintly as I shifted. Every day I went farther down the river, scanning new stretches of forest, following footprints, broken branches, anything that might lead me to another deer. If I could find one, I could bring home food—maybe even coins to ease our burden.

The sun rode high, still warming the snowy landscape, but the chill seeped into my bones as I pressed southeast toward the mountains. The forest thinned, giving way to rough, jagged cliffs. I stopped at the base, craning my neck at the steep, ice-slicked trail. It would take more time to climb than descend, but maybe I could go partway before turning back. My quiver shifted against my back as I gripped it tightly, pressing my boots into the snow where the thin crust gave a sharp crack under each step.

Ten minutes up the slope, and my chest heaved, lungs burning with every breath. The incline was steeper than I’d anticipated, muscles screaming in quiet protest, but I forced myself onward, scanning the path for tracks, though the wind had erased most of what might have been left behind.

The trees thinned entirely, leaving me exposed. The wind cut across my cheeks, stinging, and I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, fingers already turning numb. My breath came in short, painful gasps, each inhale like shards scraping my throat.

An hour later, when the sun had crested overhead, I froze. Small tracks in the snow caught my eye—larger than a hare’s, smaller than a bear’s, perfect imprints of a deer’s hooves. My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat echoing in my ears as cold air burned in my lungs.

I pressed into the brush, boots crunching over brittle snow, gripping my bow as I nocked an arrow. The string hummed under my touch.

It would be hell to drag a deer from this far out, but I could. I would. My family’s hunger pressed against my mind, their faces flashing behind my eyelids, and the weight of that responsibility sharpened every sense.

The tracks led along a narrow stream, half-frozen, edges crusted with ice, leaving only a thin ribbon of water at the center. My breath hitched as realization struck: this was the same deer I had trapped before. Its tracks led back toward the river where my trap had been set. I could finally trace its path—finally discover where it had come from.

Boots slipping on ice, heart hammering, I followed the trail up to a small clearing. I froze, every nerve taut. In the middle of nowhere, smooth stone pillars rose from the snow, unlike the jagged cliffs around them. Built deliberately, carved with care, the formation sloped downward, sealing into the ground. My fingers trembled as I reached out, brushing the surface, the cold biting through to my bones. Goosebumps raced along my arms.

Then I saw the tracks. Deer tracks, leading straight out of the archway, back the way I had come. None leading in. My brow furrowed as I circled the structure, searching, sensing something beyond comprehension.

Slowly, I stepped closer, tilting my head, and passed through the archway.

The world shifted. My chest tightened, lungs catching, my heart pounding loud enough to drown out all sound. My stomach dropped, a stone falling through me, while a rush of…something, wind or presence, or both, tore through my body. Not wind—something deeper, older, a pulse that touched my bones.

I wasn’t looking into a cavern. I was staring across a lush, green field. Sun warm on my face. The grass soft, vibrant, the air carrying the faint scent of flowers and earth. I stumbled backward, mind grasping for logic. I had to be hallucinating. I must have collapsed in the snow, unconscious.

The world snapped back to stone and ice, the clearing gray and cold. I stumbled, eyes wide, stomach churning. My fingers dug into my bow strap, knuckles white. This was real. This was the portal. I didn’t know how it worked, but I knew what I’d seen.

The sun still hung high, giving me hours before I had to return. If the deer could get out…so could I. I could feel the warmth, the breeze across my skin, the faint hum of life that wasn’t bound by frost. Maybe there was food waiting—maybe even more deer.

But the story pressed in on me. Fae. Creatures beyond imagination. Would they see me? Kidnap me? Kill me? My grip tightened on the bow, the leather biting into my palm.

Would Cole think I’d been taken by a wolf? Would Father search for me—or just accept I’d vanished? Would Mother’s heart break?

I drew a deep, shivering breath. My eyes locked on the archway.

Then, gathering every ounce of courage, I stepped forward.