Wriggling free of the spare coats, I stumble out of my grotto. In the larger cavern, Asher stuffs our belongings into travel packs. Fyr’thal flutters by the mouth of a winding passage, hooting with urgency.
“We need to leave,” says Asher, hoisting the packs over his shoulder and motioning to me. “Now.”
I swallow my questions and follow him into the tunnel, Fyr’thal lighting our way. Wind whistles toward us, flecking me with minuscule crystalline particles. Cold stings my nose and eyes.
Rounding a rocky bend, we emerge from our cave into a world of alien beauty. My breath catches in my throat. Vast ice canyons lie before us. Frozen formations rise and fall in whorls. Our cave nestles on a cliff facing north—I can tell because the sun is sinking behind massive mountains that stretch acros
