Hexed

darkened streets until we were on the outskirts. He led us to one of the barrows where a seldom-used portal waited. The guard look mildly surprised.
    “Not many folks pass through here. Are you sure you want to go? The mountains are fiercely cold and winter is deep—” But then Howl, the Winter Wolf Spirit, walked to the front of the line. The guard fell silent, bowing his head quickly. He readied the portal.
    “Where will this take us?” I asked.
    “Deep into the upper reaches of the Tygerian Mountains, miss.” The guard glanced quietly at Howl, who did not speak. “From there, I assume you will be taking the portal to the Northlands. But you should rest for the night there—the village is safe for outsiders. Once you get into the heart of the Northlands, the accommodations are few and far between, and mostly to be found with private households.”
    “I know the Northlands well, elf.” Smoky turned to him. “We won’t have any problems, but thank you for your concern.”
    “The portal is ready. You may pass. May the Queen of Stars watch over you.” The elf stood back and we faced the glistening portal. The energy between the two standing stones crackled and popped, blue and white bolts rebounding from one stone to the other and back again.
    Howl nodded to Smoky. “You first, then the incubus. Then the women. I will come last.” And so, without another word, we passed through to the Tygerian Mountains, where we did not tarry but instead crossed silently to the next portal and jumped all the way to the Northlands.
     
    THE NORTHLANDS EXISTED in their own region, though they abutted Earthside, Otherworld, Valhalla, Kalevala, the Dragon Realms, and several other planes of existence. As we came through the portal, a blast of frigid air hit me—Elqaneve might have been chilly, but this was true cold. I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders as my breath puffed into white clouds in front of my face.
    I stepped into a small room—it was a cavern actually, formed by hand, chipped out of the mountainside in the rough approximation of a square room. The man standing guard looked human, but I could tell he was one of the Northmen, a breed of humans who had sprung from the Norse and Finnish gods as they intermarried with humans.
    Living between “heaven” and “earth,” the Northmen stayed in the Northlands between Valhalla, Kalevala, and Earthside. They were as strong and quick as most Fae, but over the years the powers they’d inherited from the gods had diminished. Even so, they were still hardier than any human and could take chill temperatures without exhaustion. Some of the Northmen could see in the dark, and others were extremely adept at fighting and shield work. Their magic was in their singing voices and in their ability to charm the energy of metals and woods and weather.
    “Welcome to the edge of the world,” the guard said in the common tongue. He glanced at Smoky and let out a little cry, before giving the dragon a swift bow. “Lord Iampaatar, welcome back.”
    Smoky returned the nod. “Well met, Hanson. We need lodging for the night. Can you send word ahead to the inn? Three rooms—one for myself and my wife, one for Lady Iris, and one for Rozurial. The Winter Wolf Spirit will no doubt wish to make his own accommodations.”
    I gazed at Smoky. He was well known here, that much was obvious. Hanson motioned to another man who had been standing nearby, and the man took off with a single nod.
    Howl let out a low grunt. “I have a standing room at the inn. We stay one night. Tomorrow we begin the journey at daybreak. We cannot afford to be out in the mountains come evening. I would survive, and the dragon, but the women and incubus would freeze.” He swept out of the stone room without another word and we followed him.
    It had been cold inside, but outside, it was brilliant and icy. The darkness ate up every light except the glow from the crusted snow beneath our feet. The sky was clear—the stars twinkling over our heads.
    Camille immediately pulled her cloak in front of her face and I did the same, although I was more adapted toward these temperatures than she. It felt a good fifteen degrees below zero, and we moved silently along the trail, which had been marked by ropes on both sides and eye catchers spaced evenly along the way. If we wandered off the path and got lost, we could die.
    Howl led us along the trail, nimbly striding along the packed crust. As we skirted a snowbank