Two weeks into their journey, Seraiah and Kestrel made it to the mountain peak they’d chosen to cross. A constant wind tugged at them, and the cold was even worse than the never-ending winter in Ratha. Their cloaks alone had not been enough protection against the elements, so they’d layered on their extra clothes as well, and still Seraiah felt like she’d never be warm again.

  "There it is." Kestrel pointed at the valley spread out below them.

  From where they stood, Seraiah couldn’t make out much except a blanket of white. If there was a faery court down there, it was well hidden.

  "Let's camp here for the night, and we can continue tomorrow."

  Seraiah rubbed her hands together for warmth as she searched the sky for the sun. By her estimate, they still had around two hours of light left. "Why stop now? We have time."

  “See that?” Kestrel pointed to a barely perceptible path winding down the side. “That’s our trail.”

  Seraiah traced the line with her eyes. It looped back and forth across the side of the mountain until she lost sight of it about halfway down.

  “We wouldn’t make it far enough to find a wider space to camp. I’m sure we’ll have to sleep on that trial eventually, but I’d like one night of good sleep before then.”

  Seraiah wanted to reach the Unseelie Court as soon as possible and get back to Sterling and Kai, but Kestrel was right. The path down would be treacherous and a few hours would not make much of a difference.

  They set about preparing their camp for the night and collecting bits of wood to start a small fire. This high up, there was little vegetation, so anything they managed to burn wouldn’t last long. Seraiah watched their horses nose around the snow, looking for things to eat while Kestrel prepared their own meal.

  “I have some bad news,” Kestrel said, as she passed Seraiah her portion of the meal.

  “What now?”

  “Our supplies are running low.”

  They’d known it was a possibility. There was only so much they’d been able to carry with them, and they could only guess at how long the journey would take. Seraiah had hoped they’d at least be closer to reaching the Court and not only halfway there before supplies became an issue.

  “Could we hunt?”

  “Hunt what? Have you seen anything other than snow?”

  She hadn’t. It had been only them and their horses for many days now.

  “We’ll have to move faster then,” Seraiah said, “We’ll ration what we have left and hope it is enough. Going down is easier than climbing, isn’t it?”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d gone without food. It would be no different than it was in Ratha before she’d ever left. She’d survived then and she could do it again.

  Kestrel stared at her for a long moment. “Let’s hope so. Otherwise . . .” she trailed off, gaze flicking to their horses.

  “Absolutely not. It will not come to that.”

  When their fire burnt low, the two of them settled in for the night. Kestrel fell asleep almost immediately, but it took Seraiah longer as she worried over all the dangers of their journey and what might await them when they reached the Winter Queen.

  Eventually, sleep came to claim her, and when it did, Seraiah dreamed.

  It was Lonan again.

  Instead of watching him die as she had in all her previous dreams, this Lonan appeared already dead. There was no spark of life in his eyes as he turned to look at her. The arrow still stuck straight out of his chest, crusted with dried blood.

  "Beware the snow," he croaked. Those dead eyes bore into her.

  "What?" The words were garbled as if he was having difficulty remembering how to talk.

  "Beware the snow," he repeated in the same voice, raspy with disuse. The words were clearer this time, but she could only guess at what he meant.

  "Beware the snow," Lonan repeated a third time.

  "I don't understand."

  "Beware the snow."

  "Lonan. Please. What does that mean?" She reached out to touch him, but jerked her hand back at the last second, afraid of what she would find.

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  "Beware the snow."

  It seemed to be the only phrase he could say.

  "Beware the snow."

  Her lack of understanding only seemed to agitate him.

  "Beware the snow. Beware the snow. Beware the snow!"

  Seraiah jolted awake before she could ask again what he meant. She lay there for a moment, staring up at the star-flecked sky as she tried to calm her beating heart. Nearby, Kestrel was still sound asleep.

  This dream had been more frightening than watching Lonan die. The words he’d spoken still repeated over and over in her head.

  "Beware the snow," she whispered.

  She still didn’t understand what it meant. Was this the start of the madness?

  It had to be. Lonan was dead. He could not be sending messages to her in dreams.

  Seraiah sighed and rolled over, resolving to forget about it.

  She didn't dream anymore that night, but neither did she sleep.

  "Everything all right?" Kestrel asked the next morning. “You’re moving slow today.”

  “Fine,” Seraiah said. “Had trouble sleeping because of the cold.” She could have told Kestrel about the dream and asked her opinion, but she was afraid of what the answer might be. If Kestrel thought it was the madness too, that somehow made it feel more real. If Seraiah ignored it, she could pretend it wasn’t happening.

  Soon they would reach the Winter Queen, and then she’d have answers on how to deal with the madness. She only had to hang on until then.

  The further they traveled down the mountain, the colder it became. Seraiah didn’t understand how such a thing was possible, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could withstand it.

  Seraiah tugged on the tunic she was using to protect the bottom half of her face and readjusted her grip on the reins. They kept slipping through her numb fingers, but there was nothing she could do about it. Rubbing her hands together didn’t seem to generate much warmth anymore.

  At least they still had their horses from the Summer King. If not for them, they’d have to trudge through the snow on foot, and she doubted they would have made it.

  Seraiah wasn’t sure they would make it, even with the beasts.

  The lack of good sleep was not helping matters. Every night since the mountain peak, she’d dreamed of Lonan. He’d repeat the same warning over and over until she woke. At this point, she believed it wasn’t madness, but rather her mind and body trying to save her from the cold.

  More days passed, blending one into the other as they made their way closer to the valley when they finally ran out of food. They’d already stopped eating a morning meal, but even that hadn’t been enough.

  The Summer King had told her this was the place where pretty things went to die. He might as well have said there was nothing living here. Seraiah had yet to see any sign of animals or even plants. There was nothing but snow.

  After another especially long day with nothing to eat, Seraiah fell asleep almost instantly.

  Once again, she dreamed of Lonan. This time, however, he didn't tell her to beware of the snow. He only uttered two words as tears streaked down his face: too late.

  Seraiah almost didn't catch it the first time. She leaned forward as Lonan mumbled his message again.

  "Too late.”

  Then Kestrel was shaking her awake.

  "Time to go. I think we are getting close. We should reach the Court today."

  “Thank the gods,” Seraiah murmured as she pulled herself onto her horse. She couldn’t take much more of this.

  As they plodded along, Seraiah noticed the first signs of change in the landscape. The snow was broken up by great spikes of ice jutting from the ground like upside-down icicles. As she was staring at them, her horse suddenly shied, nearly dumping her in the snow.

  “Whoa. It’s all right,” she said, as she patted the horse’s neck. Next to them, Kestrel was busy trying to calm her own horse, who was snorting and dancing nervously.

  “Welcome,” a new voice said.

  Seraiah looked up in time to see a figure step out from behind one of the ice spikes, and she couldn’t help but stare. This must be one of the winter fae.

  Unlike the summer fae, he appeared human. There was no strange hair color, horns, or elongated teeth. This newcomer would be considered handsome by any human standard with his perfectly symmetrical face. It was almost as though he’d been created to please the eye.

  "What brings you to our court?" he asked. Even his voice was beautiful and pleasant to the ears.

  "Queen," Seraiah forced her frozen lips to say. “I must see the Winter Queen.”

  "As you wish." The faery bowed and led them into the Unseelie Court.

  Where the Summer King was bronze, the Winter Queen was pale—translucent, even.

  The blue veins running beneath the Queen's skin were visible as if Seraiah was looking into an ice crystal. It should have been grotesque, but instead, she couldn't help thinking the Winter Queen was the most beautiful being she’d ever seen.

  The Unseelie Queen brushed aside a waterfall of hair, the color of the deepest part of a winter night, to regard them with icy eyes.

  "Hello, seer," she purred. "Cousin," she said, with a nod to Kestrel.

  Before Seraiah could wonder why the Unseelie Queen would call Kestrel cousin, her eyes alighted on the beasts flanking the Queen. It only took a moment for her to realize she was already familiar with them.

  Varanem.

  Her eyes met the beast's yellow ones, and Seraiah started when it spoke. Its voice was deep, but the words sounded strange coming from its mouth.

  "You have met one of us before," it said.

  It wasn't a question, so Seraiah said nothing.

  The Winter Queen raised one perfect brow. “Is this true?"

  "You were covered in its blood," the other beast said. "Murderer."

  "I—" Seraiah faltered, unsure how to answer the accusation. She hadn’t been the one to deliver the final blow, but she had been instrumental in the death.

  "I have met one of you before," she said carefully. "But I have never murdered anyone." It was the best answer she could give. Her thoughts may have been fuzzy from lack of food, but she still had some sense of self-preservation.

  The Varanem growled low in their throat, but neither spoke again. To Seraiah's relief, it seemed they accepted this.

  "Yes, well. You didn't come here for my pets. Tell me. What are you looking for?" the faery queen asked. "If it's your mother, I'm afraid to say she has been long gone."

  "She was here?" Seraiah asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

  Kestrel’s hand clamped around her wrist in warning.

  The Winter Queen smiled. "She still is."

  This was more than Seraiah could have hoped for.

  "Where—" she started to ask before falling silent as the Queen raised her hand.

  "I wouldn't be too hasty about seeking her out. You might not like what you find."

  A chill ran down Seraiah's spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "Did you help her? Did you answer her questions?"

  "In a way. But she came to me much too late." The Unseelie Queen tilted her head to the side as she regarded Seraiah. "But you—you still have potential."