Skymint's POV

  The midday sun fractured against the snow, scattering shards of light that did nothing to warm the cold settling in my chest. The igloo was small, built for brief stays, but the moment Arie and I stepped inside, the weight of everything that had happened crashed onto my shoulders, heavy as ice.

  Snowgale’s frown deepened the second she saw me. Her hands curled into tight fists, knuckles pale.

  “You’re exhausted,” she muttered, relief threading through her anger, barely masking it. “What in the frozen abyss happened?”

  She didn’t waste time. Her sharp gaze flicked between Arie and me, taking in our exhaustion, the ice clinging to our coats, the way I held Chillbi close. The little creature cooed softly, oblivious to the tension tightening the air. Arie stood beside me, silent, but watchful.

  I let out a slow breath. “The Guardian of Polarmen… he’s not who we thought he was.”

  Snowgale’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “He knew our mother—more than we did,” I said, my voice tight. “He did something to her. Something that made her sick. Because she was an activist, conspiring against him. And now her bounty has been passed to me.”

  The words barely left my lips before fury twisted Snowgale’s expression. She stepped forward as if ready to hit something—someone—but there was no target, only me, only Arie, and the cruel truth hanging between us.

  “The Guardian?” she spat, her voice raw with disbelief. “The Guardian of Polarmen? That bastard—he’s the reason our mother died?”

  I nodded stiffly, gripping Chillbi a little tighter. The little creature purred against my chest, utterly unaware of the storm clawing through me. “It makes sense now,” I admitted. “Why she got sick so suddenly. Why no one could help her. He must have sought out a witch or a warlock.”

  Snowgale raked a hand through her thick white hair, pacing. She muttered curses under her breath before halting abruptly. “That monster put a bounty on your head, Skymint. You can’t stay here. If he finds out you were here, I—”

  “I know,” I cut in, lowering my voice. “That’s why we’re leaving. But what about you? He’ll come after you next.”

  Snowgale exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. “Fortunately, I have a way out. Remember my job? Babysitting those spoiled little polar cubs? Their family just offered me a place at their mansion. I’ll be safe there—for now. The Guardian won’t be able to reach me.”

  Relief cracked through the tension in my chest. “Good. Stay there as long as you have to.”

  She sighed, anger simmering just beneath her skin. “And you two? Where will you go?”

  Arie finally spoke. “Donshell first. Then Fresha Kingdom—I have relatives there. The Guardian was supposed to be our ally, but since that didn’t work out, we need another option.”

  Snowgale frowned but nodded. “Smart choice.” Then, as if sensing something unsaid, she turned to me, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. Have you told her what else is going on?”

  I hesitated. Glanced at Arie. She had been perceptive enough to notice my shifts, and now was the time to explain.

  “Llanova’s missing.”

  Arie’s gaze sharpened. “Your best friend?”

  I nodded. “He disappeared yesterday. No one’s seen him since. That’s why I’ve been... distracted.”

  Understanding settled into Arie’s expression. “That’s why you were so quiet. It wasn’t just the Guardian—you’ve been worrying about him too.”

  Snowgale’s frown deepened. “Damn it, Skymint. That’s even more reason to be careful. There’s a chance it’s connected to all of this.”

  “I know.” The words felt hollow in my mouth, like ice too thin to hold weight. “I’ll use my time out there—while escorting Arie—to find Llanova.”

  Snowgale exhaled slowly, as if sifting through all the things she wanted to say, picking only the ones that mattered. Then, she looked at Arie. “Go outside for a minute. I need to speak with my brother alone.”

  Arie hesitated. Just for a breath. Then she nodded, shooting me a look—a knowing one, sharp in its understanding—before stepping into the cold.

  Snowgale turned back to me, unreadable. “You’re escorting a princess, Skymint.”

  I sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

  “No, you don’t.” Her voice cut sharper than the wind. “She’s not just some runaway. She’s the heir to a kingdom. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get yourself killed. And if you get caught, you won’t just be a prisoner—you’ll be a weapon they use against her.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I’m not abandoning her.”

  “I’m not saying you should.” Her tone softened, but only slightly. “I’m saying be careful. You have a habit of throwing yourself into danger for other people. Don’t let it get you killed. And don’t—don’t do anything reckless.”

  I exhaled through my nose. “I know.”

  “No.” She stepped closer. “You don’t.”

  Silence stretched between us. The kind that carried more weight than words.

  “I know you, Skymint,” she said finally. “You’re angry. You want revenge. But don’t let it cloud your judgment. That girl trusts you. Don’t let her down.”

  My throat tightened. “I won’t.”

  Something flickered across her face—doubt, worry, something she wouldn’t say out loud. Then, she did something unexpected. She pulled me into a tight embrace.

  “Stay alive, little brother.”

  I closed my eyes, returning the hug. “You too.”

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  When we finally let go, the moment felt heavier than it should have. I gave her a final nod and stepped out into the cold.

  Arie was waiting. The wind sharpened around us, but her gaze was softer.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  I swallowed hard, adjusting Chillbi in my arms. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  ***

  The boat rocked against the frozen tide, the motion rhythmic, relentless. Every shift sent a spray of ice-laced water into the air, each drop slicing against my skin. The sea stretched endlessly ahead of us—blue, glacial, unyielding—its surface a fractured mirror of the sky.

  The only sounds were the distant cries of seabirds and the ice engine’s low, grinding hum, punctuated by sharp hisses of escaping steam and the brittle crackle of ice splintering beneath its blades.

  Chillbi curled against my boots, his tiny body rising and falling with sleep. Oblivious. I envied him for that. I tightened my grip on the ice handle, forcing my arms to move, pushing us forward through the shifting current.

  Arie, seated across from me, broke the silence first. “Llanova—do you think he left on his own?”

  Her voice was careful. Measured. A question that carried more weight than it let on.

  “No.” The answer came immediately, without hesitation.

  Arie tilted her head slightly, studying me. “You’re sure?”

  A sharp exhale. My grip tightened. “Llanova wouldn’t just disappear without telling me. He wouldn’t do that.”

  She nodded, absorbing my response. She was always like this—thoughtful, patient. She never spoke just to fill the silence. Instead, she let the quiet stretch, waiting for the right moment to say what truly mattered.

  After another stretch of silence, she finally spoke again. “And the Guardian?”

  I stilled. Even the waves seemed to quiet, as if listening. My grip tightened on the ice handle.

  “It makes sense now,” I muttered, voice taut. “Why my mother got sick so suddenly. Why she never recovered. If he really cursed her, then—” I swallowed hard, the words catching in my throat.

  “Then everything you believed about him was a lie,” Arie finished softly.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. The truth was already carved into my expression, raw and undeniable.

  Arie shifted closer, turning to face me fully. “Skymint,” she murmured, her voice gentler now. “I know this isn’t just about the Guardian. It’s about your mother.”

  The cold bit deep, but her words cut deeper.

  “She fought for something she believed in,” Arie continued, quiet but unwavering. “She didn’t deserve what happened to her. And neither do you.”

  My throat tightened. I fixed my gaze on the ice-streaked horizon, unwilling to meet her eyes. “It doesn’t change anything. She’s gone.”

  “No,” Arie said, shaking her head. “It changes everything.”

  I finally looked at her. There was no pity in her expression, only understanding.

  “You have the truth now,” she went on. “And I know it hurts. But it also means you can decide what to do with it. You’re not powerless, Skymint.”

  A breath shuddered from my lips. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

  Arie hesitated, then reached out, her hand settling on my shoulder. “Then let yourself feel it first.”

  I frowned slightly. “Feel what?”

  “The loss. The anger. The grief.” Her grip was steady. “Before you decide what comes next, you need to give yourself permission to grieve.”

  Something inside me cracked—just a hairline fracture, but enough. I had spent so long pushing forward, refusing to dwell on what couldn’t be undone. But Arie was right. I had never truly allowed myself to mourn.

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I don’t know how.”

  “You don’t have to do it alone.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “You have me. And Chillbi. And your sister. You’re not as alone as you think.”

  The words settled over me like a blanket against the cold. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on my chest lifted—just a little.

  I exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Arie.”

  She offered a small smile before withdrawing her hand, letting the silence settle once more. But this time, it wasn’t suffocating. It was… lighter.

  As the boat carried us across the icy waters, I didn’t feel quite as lost as before. I didn’t have all the answers, but maybe—for now—that was enough.

  ***

  The wind howled through the icy cliffs as Arie and I finally arrived at the mouth of Donshell’s cave. A jagged entrance loomed before us, framed by frost-covered rock, the cold air thick with magic. Snowflakes twisted in the wind, swirling unnaturally—like the cave itself was breathing.

  Chillbi wriggled in my arms, sensing where we were. The little snow monster let out a soft, guttural noise, excitement—or maybe dread—glinting in his obsidian eyes. I sighed.

  “This little thing is going back where he belongs,” I muttered, stepping inside. “I never asked him to follow.”

  Arie trailed after me, her presence steady. She hadn’t said much since we docked, but I could still feel the warmth of her reassurance lingering. Back on the water, she’d caught me when the weight of the truth nearly crushed me. Now, even in silence, she was watching—closely. Not out of suspicion, but something else.

  Ever since we left Polarmen territory. Ever since she saw me break apart at the truth about the Guardian.

  She was keeping an eye on me.

  I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or irritated by it.

  The cave pulsed with an eerie glow, cyan vines flickering like trapped lightning along the stone walls. Shadows stretched and curled, moving with us as we stepped deeper into the cold, breathing dark. The scent of damp earth thickened, laced with something older than memory.

  And at the heart of it all, we found him.

  Donshell, the ancient turtle sorcerer, sat atop a flat slab of rock, his massive shell etched with glowing runes, their light ebbing and flowing like a heartbeat. The moment his faded eyes settled on us, a smirk crept onto his wrinkled face.

  “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice like shifting boulders. “Look who finally decided to crawl out of the snow. Thought maybe the wolves got you.”

  I said nothing. Instead, I tossed Chillbi toward him. The little snow creature let out a startled squeak before landing in Donshell’s lap. He caught the creature with an ease that suggested he’d been expecting this all along.

  A scaly brow arched. “Ah. So, you’re returning what was never yours.”

  “He followed me,” I said, flat. “You knew he would.”

  Donshell chuckled, the sound deep and knowing. “Of course I did.” His thick fingers scratched along Chillbi’s head, earning a pleased purr. But then his gaze flicked—first to Arie, then back to me. The smirk faded. “Something’s wrong.”

  Arie didn’t hesitate. “His best friend is missing.”

  The cave seemed to inhale, the air pressing in, heavier than before.

  Donshell’s eyes narrowed, the glow of his runes dimming slightly. “Missing,” he repeated.

  “He vanished recently,” I said, my voice tight. “And that’s not all. The Guardian of Polarmen—he’s no protector. Just a monster hoarding power. He made sure my mother wouldn’t survive her illness. And now, he’s put a bounty on my head.”

  Donshell exhaled sharply, the weight of his age settling into his features. “Hmph. Always suspected he was rotten. But to go that far?” He shook his head. “This is worse than I thought.”

  Arie stepped forward. “We came here to regroup. But we also need answers. If the Guardian had a hand in Llanova’s disappearance, we need to know what we’re up against.”

  Donshell held my gaze. For a long moment, he was silent. Then—

  “Skymint, there’s something you need to understand.” His voice was slower now, deliberate. “I always knew your mother was an activist. She fought against the Guardian’s influence in ways you were too young to see.”

  Something cold curled in my stomach. “You knew?” My breath caught. “And you never told me?”

  His expression remained unreadable. “I promised her I wouldn’t.” A pause. Then softer, almost reluctant: “She made me swear to keep you away from the truth. To keep you safe.” A slow exhale. “And I kept my promise. But now, I see that keeping you in the dark may have done more harm than good.”

  Fury flickered through me, tangled with something more dangerous—betrayal. I clenched my fists, but the storm in my chest had no release.

  Donshell turned toward the pool of water at the center of his cave. “Enough talk. If Llanova has vanished under these circumstances, then you may be dealing with something far bigger than a simple bounty hunt.” He raised a hand, his magic pulsing through the air. The water shimmered, rippling unnaturally as his Binder’s Magic took hold. “I’ll use this to track him.”

  Arie met my gaze, something unreadable passing between us before she nodded. “Then we’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Donshell studied us for a long moment before sighing. “Rest here for now. When I’m done, you’ll have your answers.”

  As he turned away, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Arie’s hand found my arm, grounding me. I looked at her, and for the first time since this mess started, something steadied inside me.

  Hope.

  We would find Llanova.

  And the Guardian would pay.