Frostbite

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nobody managed to get a wink of sleep, despite their exhaustion.

Darrow leaned against a tree, still the same stoic, faceless figure. If Eira had to make a guess as to what he was thinking—he was probably plotting.

Kea had paced around for a while, but now he sat on the forest floor, impatiently sheathing and unsheathing a knife he'd taken from his belt.

Eira had a matching knife that he'd given her before they'd left, followed by "do you know how to use a knife?"

She'd replied, a little snappily, "do you think I would join a rebel cause if I could not fight? I can use a sword or a bow, if you want me to."

It had been sort of a brag; Frosts were given training in weapons, but nothing more than the basics. They were expected to rely on their powers. Weapons hindered the Frost, Madam Fairburn would always tell them. The weapons training was more intended for insightful purposes. Eira had never been that good at swordplay or archery, either. Or hand to hand combat. Though she wouldn't say she was terrible with a knife.

Eira slid a finger down the sheath of the knife absentmindedly. Would she have to resort to using it tonight? She hoped not—she didn't want to see her hands stained that sickening red ever again. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she forced herself to not think of it. Instead, Eira looked over the rest of the group.

Gwen lay against a stump, menially exercising her powers by making icicles form on a branch above her. She seemed about as impatient as Kea.

Garey sharpened a stout sword that looked like it had seen better days, while Tanwyn had his nose deep in a book. He looked almost unbothered. As if this whole mission wasn't much of a big deal to him. Or maybe it was that he was confident enough that it would succeed that he didn't feel the need to worry about it.

Eira herself stood, yet was unable to keep still. She moved from foot to foot, tapping her fingers against her thighs. Everyone seemed antsy—except maybe Darrow and Tanwyn—but Eira was sure she was by far the antsiest. She was fuelled by only her adrenaline—anxiety—any actual energy having fizzled out during the journey. Hopefully it was enough to keep her going before they got back.

By the time bright sunlight was replaced by cold moonlight, they got to their feet. Everyone was steeling themselves. Eira went over the plan in her head meticulously. She took good care that she was sure of each detail and when to initiate them. It wasn't a complicated plan, she knew, but she didn't want to be the saboteur of anything due to a lack of preparation or memorisation.  

"Are you worried?" Gwen whispered in Eira's ear as she passed by.

Eira bit her lip again, still tender from before. She considered the question for a moment. "A little."

"Good. If you aren't even a tiny bit, you're arrogant or a fool."

Eira smiled slightly. It was something Gwen always told her years ago. Like if Eira had been nervous before tests or demonstrations in class. In Gwen's absence, repeating it to herself had become a habit. Words to reassure her in the face of fear.

"Good luck," Gwen told her, turning away.

"You too." She wasn't sure if Gwen would hear, but she said it anyway. "Stay alive. Please."

The six of them gathered around in a semicircle, Darrow giving them his last words before they began. "Night has fallen, so we will promptly proceed. Morgan, Tanwyn, Garey, approach the front gate and draw as many guards yourselves as possible. Use whatever means you deem necessary"—if not for Gwen's powers, that was suicide for sure—"Kea and Lowenna, go around the back and wait for the alarm bell to ring. After you've heard it, go through the back gate. It will be unlocked. I will follow once you give the signal."