“Our actions and choices shape our destinies,” I growled. “Otherwise there’s no point in living. I can’t believe you don’t see that! You were always so reasonable in the past—at least until you decided to kill your own children. You have no business saying my son’s the monster here.”

He flinched at those words, as well he should have. A funny look came over his face, one I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t guilt or chagrin, like I would have expected. Before I could ponder it further, the door opened without a knock and Dorian strolled in as though he’d lived here for years.

“Why, hello,” he said cheerfully. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. I was just passing by and thought I’d see if your charming hovel needed any patching. My magic’s quite good at summoning dirt and rocks for convenient household usage.”

He had that typically guileless look and tone, but I wasn’t fooled for an instant. Dorian hadn’t just wandered by. He’d either seen Kiyo come in or heard about it from someone else. My suspicions were confirmed when Dorian put his hands on his hips in a way that opened his cloak and revealed the sword at his waist.

“Everything’s fine,” I said, with a tight smile. “Kiyo was just giving me his latest explanation about how my son is a terror to be feared.”

Dorian scoffed. “Little Thundro? A terror? Hardly, unless perhaps we’re discussing diapers.”

Kiyo’s hardened expression momentarily faltered. “Wait. You named your son Thundro?”

My response was preempted by a high-pitched shriek that split the night and made the hairs on my neck stand up. It was neither human nor gentry. I got to my feet and immediately began grabbing my weapons. Dorian and Kiyo were already moving for the door.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, knowing perfectly well they had no idea either.

Outside, darkness had fallen, with only well-placed torches to give us light. The terrible screech sounded again, echoed by smaller, terror-filled cries from the Palm residents as they scurried for shelter. A flash of red caught my eye, and I grabbed Rhona’s arm as she ran past.

“What’s going on?” I demanded. Even in the flickering torchlight, I could see she was as pale as the snow around us.

“The storm,” she cried. “The storm is coming.” She tugged desperately against me, and I released her, more confused than ever. Others hurried past, and within a couple minutes, no one stood outside in the village—except for me and my traveling companions.

“What’s going on?” said Rurik, coming to my side. “Are they being raided?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “They keep saying that—”

I heard the roar again, and this time, its owner came into view. My jaw dropped.

“That’s the storm?” I asked.

If you could take every stereotype and caricature of the abominable snowman and roll them into one archetypal snow monster, you’d have what was standing before me. It was about twenty feet tall, covered in white shaggy fur. Three curved horns—one on each side and one in the forehead—protruded from its head. Its eyes were large and black, as were the six-inch claws on its hands. When it roared, I caught a glimpse of a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

Dorian drew his copper sword. “Rurik, my friend. The next time you barter for our lodging, do get a bit more information on what exactly we’re paying.”

“Yes, sire,” muttered Rurik.

Seeing as we were standing out in the open, I would’ve thought the Storm—because really, it deserved a capital S—would come charging toward us. Instead it stopped by one of the huts and ripped off the building’s roof in one fell swoop. I heard screams from within. It occurred to me then that perhaps cold and starvation weren’t the only reasons for this place’s low population.

Dorian made the smallest of motions, and the ground beneath the Storm began to ripple. It wasn’t enough to make the creature fall over, but it did stumble and turn its attention away from the hut and its inhabitants. The fighters in our group—Rurik, Alistir, Keeli, and Danil—wasted no time in charging forward. They stabbed their swords into the Storm’s leg—or rather, they attempted to. Whatever the monster’s hide was made of, it was too tough and thick for copper to pierce. I wasn’t even sure steel would’ve done it. The Storm glanced down irritably and knocked aside Danil and Rurik with one easy motion. Kiyo, in a large and vicious fox form, was right behind the fighters and attempted to sink his teeth into the Storm’s leg. The monster brushed him off as well.

The Storm began stomping toward the rest of us. Dorian slowed it by manipulating the ground again. At the same time, I felt Jasmine’s magic flare, and a sheet of snow flew into the creature’s eyes, momentarily blinding him. It was clever. Her magic spoke to water, which responded to her even when frozen. Still, I knew this wasn’t going to be enough.

“We’re just annoying it,” I said.

“Can you banish it to the Underworld?” asked Dorian.

“Not easily.” Creatures in worlds they didn’t belong in—like gentry and spirits—would be pulled into a gate back to their own worlds. I could also force entities somewhere else, like the Underworld, which would bring about instant death. “For something this big, I’d need to mark him with a death symbol. I don’t know that I can get close, let alone get the symbol on him. Her. Whatever.”

As though proving my point, a brave Keeli jumped forward and again tried to slash the monster with her sword—and again proved ineffectual. This time, at least, she was able to skillfully dodge his angry swat, thanks largely to more distraction from Dorian and Jasmine.

“Eugenie,” said Pagiel, touching my arm. “I have an idea.” He quickly explained it to me. I grimaced.

“Crude, but it might be effective,” I admitted. “Which one?”

We scanned the village, and I cursed the night since it limited the range of what I could see. “That one,” said Pagiel, pointing. “It’s the biggest.”

“Okay.” To Jasmine and Dorian, I said, “You guys do more of the same so it doesn’t realize what’s happening.”

I drew up the full force of my storm magic, forcing every air molecule I could (figuratively) get my hands on to obey me. Beside me, I felt Pagiel summon up his own air magic. Its feel was similar to mine, and we were able to sync up our forces. Joined with him, I was surprised at how strong he was. Maybe I shouldn’t have been since Ysabel was pretty adept with air too. I was still stronger, but having his backup made me feel almost godlike.

Together, we ripped one of the dead palms from the ground, doing it in a way that left the roots behind and created a splintery end. Even among its unusually large kin, this palm was pretty huge. Careful to match each other, Pagiel and I used the air to lift up the palm and turn it on its side so that it hovered in a parallel line to the ground.

“We have to make this count,” I said. “We need a hurricane- or tornado-worthy blast here, or it’s just going to knock him over. Set your aim and get ready. On the count of three?” Pagiel quickly nodded, lines of tension all over his face as he tried to keep up with me magically. “One. Two ...” The air crackled with tension as I readied to unleash it all. “Three!”

Pagiel and I released the tree. It flew forward toward the Storm with insane speed. Not only that, it was backed by a lot of force. Maybe it wasn’t honed to arrow sharpness, but when something that big, that fast, and that forceful hits you, it does some damage. Especially when it’s aimed right for the chest.

Amazingly, we got the tree to pierce that tough hide. Pagiel’s hope had been that the tree would go straight through him, but we weren’t quite that good. Nonetheless, the tree lodged in the Storm’s chest and heart, which was more than enough to kill the beast. It gave another roar, though this was of a very different nature than before. This was a death knell. The monster took a few unsteady steps and then fell to the ground. It twitched a little and then moved no more.

“Cool,” said Jasmine.

“And now,” said Kiyo, who was human again, “we also know how to deal with any vampires that come along.”

Villagers began spilling out of the huts, hurrying to see the outcome of the monster that had been terrorizing them. I glanced over at Pagiel, who was visibly shaking. “You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a weak smile, but excitement glowed in his eyes. “Yes. I had no idea I could do that. I mean, I guess I didn’t do it. You were doing a lot more.”

“You weren’t too shabby,” I said. “You’ve got more strength than you know. Not sure I could’ve gotten it through him without you.” Pagiel beamed.

Beside him, Jasmine scowled. “They’re so ungrateful,” she said, pointing to the villagers. They had now completely encircled the fallen monster, their backs to us. “Not even a thank-you.”

“They’re too busy,” said Kiyo, squinting at them with his superior eyes.

“Doing what?” demanded Jasmine.

Kiyo grinned at her. “Butchering. That thing will feed them for weeks.”

Chapter 15

The more we traveled, the more we learned something. Extreme cold and starvation weren’t the only problems facing the Otherworld’s residents. This world was full of all sorts of nightmarish creatures, most of which stayed away from the more civilized kingdoms. Creatures that were adapted to snowy climates also tended to live in obscurity since monarchs preferred to maintain pleasant conditions in their kingdoms.

Now, that had all changed. Monsters that had lived in ice and snow had just conveniently had their territory expanded exponentially, thanks to Varia. They began creeping out of their haunts, plaguing the bedraggled gentry. With so much infrastructure lost, monarchs were unable to muster much resistance to help their people fend off these threats. The Storm was only the first of many snow-loving adversaries we faced. Ice demons, albino trolls, more abominable knock-offs ... the variety seemed endless the farther we traveled.