The sky was a grayish white that morning, promising snow for that afternoon. Thornbrook cocked his head and eyeballed them. “I’d say we’ve got an hour, if not two, before the storm comes.” He muttered.
“Then I suppose we should be off immediately.” Willowlake said. “How much farther to the Dawnlands?”
“If we follow this river and keep our pace brisk, we should be there before the storm.” Thornbrook nodded.
“Great. More snow.” Fox grumbled. “Does it ever not snow up here?”
“Oh, come on Fox.” Willowlake said playfully. “A little snow isn’t so bad.”
“This is not a little snow.” Fox snapped. “This is rivers and rivers and canyons worth of snow. It’s cold and wet and my hooves are covered in ice.”
“It’ll be better once we get to the Inner North.” Thornbrook promised. He looked over at Chance. “Are you coming?”
Chance bristled. After their conversation last night, it was a worthy question, but he didn’t want to talk about it in front of everyone. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m coming.”
Willowlake and Fox gave him odd looks about his harshness of tone. Goldstream exchanged glances with Thornbrook and said nothing.
“Well then, I suppose we’re off.” The alicorn stallion said said.
Willowlake looked at him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” She whispered harshly. “But there is no need to be so rude. What is going on?”
Who is she to be so judging? Chance pinned his ears. “You wouldn’t understand. You couldn’t. You’ve been a princess in luxury, liked or not. You have no idea of what the real world is like.”
He regretted the words the minute they flew out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Willowlake looked as if she would cry for a minute, then she pinned her ears and went to walk with Goldstream. Fox glared at him and shook his head disapprovingly.
So Chance walked alone, behind the group, feeling colder than he had ever felt before.
***
The sun was high in the sky when they finally stopped for the first time. Three waterfalls stood together, pouring into the same pool. Each of them was frozen into an elegant structure of jagged icicles. Chance stared at them in wonder. How hard did it have to freeze for moving water to still?
“Not much longer now.” Thornbrook said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “I recognize these three waterfalls. They’re the last landmark before we get there.”
“Can we… take a break?” Willowlake asked. “You all have such long legs and it’s hard for me to keep up.”
“We’d better not, if we want to stay ahead of the storm.” Fox said.
“Thorn…” Goldstream stiffened. “There’s dragon tracks here.”
“Dragon tracks?” Chance looked down at where she was staring. Some largish creature had made a largish footprint in the snow.
His feathers rattled with warning.
“Ice Dragon.” Thornbrook scowled, sniffing it. “Only an hour old.”
“Hunting perhaps?” Goldstream asked.
“More than likely. We’d better keep moving, before…”
A crackling snarl cut off his words. Standing a few feet ahead of them was a white-gray beast, hairy and scaly, with two crude scalloped wings sticking up from its back. It wasn’t much bigger than a black bear, but it was flanked by two other similar beasts.
Thornbrook rattled his feathers. The Ice Dragons mimicked him, hissing. Chance couldn’t take his gaze off of the strange creatures. Their eyes were a clear and cold blue, and their scales were white, cushioned and padded by gray fur. Their feet looked like hairy boots.
“Can we attack them and survive?” Fox asked, skittering backwards.
Coward. Chance flared his wings, making his body look bigger than it was. “We’ll survive.”
He didn’t admit to the fact that his heart was racing inside his chest. So many things could go so wrong….
“On my count…” Thornbrook whispered, but he didn’t get a chance to say any more. The first Ice Dragon leapt at his throat.
The battle was on.
Goldstream and Thornbrook stabbed the creature in between the scales, into the heart. The two other dragons, noticing the death of their own, flung themselves at Willowlake and Fox. Chance struck out with one hoof and managed to stun the dragon for several minutes, allowing Goldstream to get a strike. Willowlake screamed as the last dragon leapt on her back, tearing into her skin. Fox, filled with unusual bravery, kicked and pummeled the remaining dragon until Thornbrook killed it with a swift stab of his horn.
As soon as it had begun, it was over.
They stood there in the snow, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Three dragon’s bodies bled into the snow, steaming in the cold air. Willowlake had been scratched by the long claw of the dragon and a nasty red gash on her chest seeped blood onto her nice silver-white coat and into the snow.
The red got Chance’s attention and he realized how heavy she was breathing. He sniffed Willowlake, shoving her, and she groaned.
Good. Still conscious.
Goldstream was the first to recover, and scraped cold moss off the trees to press against the wound. “I need clay.” She said to Thornbrook. “Willowlake, you must stay awake.”
Willowlake was weaving, blue-green eyes glazed and half closed. “It hurts.” She mumbled.
Fox pawed away the snow by the river bank and brought up vivid orange clay. Goldstream melted snow and washed out the wound before packing the clay in to act as a poultice.
“Can’t I just take a little nap?” Willowlake asked, her words slurring.
“No, you cannot.” Chance’s heart pounded. What if there was more than external injuries? What if she was bleeding from the inside?
Memories of Sunrise stabbed him. No. He couldn’t let Willowlake die too. But what could he do?
“She’s in shock. We need to get her warmed up.” Goldstream said firmly.
Thornbrook nodded and lit up his horn with a friendly orange glow, casting a red-yellow mist around Willowlake. She blinked several times, inhaling sharply.
“It stings a lot.” She said suddenly.
“I know, but we’ll have to keep the poultice on.” Goldstream said. “A Healing spell would take too long and too much energy. You’ve already lost a lot of blood.”
“We’ll have to stay here until we can—” Thornbrook was interrupted as a gust of wind threw up snow in his face. It suddenly became bitterly cold and the sun was blocked out with the dark clouds they’d been avoiding the whole day.
The storm. They had lost track of time. “We need to find shelter before the storm hits.” Chance said. “And before we all freeze to death.”
“I think I see a cave over there we can shelter in.” Fox said, worry tainted in his voice as he stared at Willowlake. “Will she be okay?”
“If she survives the night, yes.” Goldstream said. “But it was a deep gash.”
“Help me get Willowlake over to the cave, Chance.” Thornbrook looked toward Fox. “Fox, take Goldstream to the cave.”
Fox glanced over at the tall, brawny mare, a full four hands higher than he, and then nodded meekly. Chance gripped Willowlake by the mane, heaving her up until she found her own feet. She was barely conscious as she stumbled between them, sandwiched so she couldn’t fall. Thornbrook glanced up at the darkening skies with worry. “It’s going to be bad.” He whispered.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Chance said. “You’ve had storms like this before, haven’t you?”
“The clouds only turn that color when a blizzard is on the way.” He replied. “And the wind blowing like this means it will be fierce.”
***
Willowlake did survive the night and was much more responsive the next day. Snow from the storm blew against their door so the only way to keep it out was to pile rocks up.
“Spring is always late in coming in the Dawnlands.” Thornbrook grumbled. “It may as well be a week or two before it can melt if it’s thick.”
A week? Chance didn’t want to spend a week in this cave. He wanted out, to keep going.
But there was no use trying to argue when the storm was still blowing. They would just have to wait it out.
A fire was lit by the help of the alicorns and the smallish cave was quickly warmed. The shadows it cast often spooked Fox, but after a day he didn’t jump half a foot into the air when the fire flickered.
The second day, Chance pried away a stone to check outside. As he had feared, it was still snowing.
How much longer must we wait this out?
Goldstream provided food with a grass spell that she had learned, although it tired her greatly every time she did it. They only grazed once a day, trying to divide the small patch between the five of them the best they could.
Day three was more snow. Thornbrook couldn’t even get the lookout stone out of the wall because it had frozen in place. Willowlake’s gash was on the mend, though it was clear she would have a scar for the rest of her life.
“When will this ever end?” Fox grumbled on the evening of day four. “Snow, snow, snow, snow…. I’m sick of it!”
“The storm is quieter today.” Thornbrook said. “I’m sure that it’ll be gone by morning.”
“And then we have to dig ourselves out.” Willowlake snorted “And who knows how long that’ll take?”
“We could starve before then.” Fox said, glancing at the smaller-than-ever patch of grass Goldstream had grown, grazed down to the roots.
“I’m doing the best I can.” Goldstream said, her voice tight.
“Calm down!” Chance snapped. Bickering was the last thing he wanted to listen to right now, and Fox’s voice annoyed him to no end when it was whining. “Arguing is just going to make us hungrier. It can’t snow for much longer. And with all of us working, we’ll be out in no time.”
“I hope you’re right.” Fox sighed.
“Of course he is.” Thornbrook said. “Me and Goldstream have been in worse storms before, and this is near its end. A day or more and we’ll be back on our way. We’re very close to the fields.”
“And yet not close enough.” Goldstream grunted.
“What?” Willowlake asked.
“Nothing.”
Fox grumbled something hateful about snow and roughed a patch for him to sleep in.
Chance wished, not for the first time, that they hadn’t brought him along.
Willowlake sighed, looking down at the darkened shadows of the cave. “What do you suppose is down there?” She asked. “We haven’t explored it yet. Maybe we should.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Thornbrook said. “It’s very easy to get lost in these tunnels, and what should happen if we lose our way and can’t get back? We could freeze to death.”
“Or there could be another opening.” Willowlake argued.
“Please.” Goldstream winced. “This bickering is giving me a headache.”
Chance almost nodded in agreement, but stopped himself. Willowlake turned crimson in the face and fell silent, clearly embarrassed.
“I think everyone is on their last nerve.” Thornbrook said. “But surely the snow will stop by tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry.” Goldstream said. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“It’s all right.” Thornbrook said, nuzzling her forehead. His eyes widened. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m just cold.” She mumbled.
“How can you be cold? You’re sweating as if it’s summer.”
“I’m all right, Thorn. No need to make a big fuss.” She moved away from the heat of the fire. “It’s just from standing so close to the fire.”
“Okay.” Thornbrook looked over at Chance with uncertainty on his face. Chance shrugged his wings.
Goldstream pawed and tried to lay down, but got back up again. “This stupid cave is blazing hot.” She grumbled, shifting down into the shadows. Thornbrook glanced at Chance as if asking for help.
“Don’t look at me.” Chance grumbled. “It’s just mare-ishness. Leaving her alone for a bit to cool off is the only thing to do.”
“She never gets snappish. Not even when she’s uncomfortable.” Thornbrook said. “I think I’m going to talk to her lower down in the cave, alone.”
“Good luck.” Chance tucked his head into his feathers, grateful once again that he could do so. It gave his head extra warmth. He remembered when he would always end up draping a wing over Sunrise during the night. He inhaled, trying to see if he could catch the scent of Sunrise in his feathers. But all he could smell was dust and sweat.
He closed his eyes. Had he really just come here only to get stuck in a cave? Had he run away only to end up dying in the end?
His wings felt so empty. He looked up and saw Fox, snuggled with Willowlake, trying to keep her warm. He heard the sounds of Thornbrook and Goldstream talking deeper inside the cave.
But he, Chance, was alone.
I just want to go home. He was tired of snow, tired of bickering, tired of these strangers. He wanted his warm, familiar fields, his sister’s company, and yes, even Snowfire. She would be someone that he could share his wings with again, someone to protect.
But now he might not get the chance.