The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 56

Sam picked Crynia up, swung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and ran around whooping like an idiot when they sighted the mountains. She'd shrieked in laughter and hung on for dear life, wanting to kiss him and smack him all at the same time when he set her down. He beat her to the former, and then she hadn't been able to think about hitting him any longer. Half of her hated what he did to her, how he made her heart dance. The other half didn't care. It just wanted him. And she was all right with that.

The second day was the hardest. Rain pelted the brushy foothills as they traveled, bitter cold, turning to ice on the trees and the ground the higher they got. They stopped when it began to snow fat, white flakes, letting Chad don a heavy coat and boots lined with fur to keep out the cold. They'd sent the camels back ages ago; they were trained to find their way home by themselves.

Crynia was frozen to the core regardless of the thick, dark fur that covered her as a wolf. Her small, thin frame, which had helped her so often as a thief, worked against her in the cold. Paws frozen and bleeding, she kept pace behind the others, watching Nyle poke his serpentine snout out of Chad's pack every now and then to see what was going on. His Animalia form was coldblooded; he couldn't survive the temperatures of winter in the mountains. So he stayed happily coiled in Chad's backpack as they climbed through the foot of snow, working towards the gaping mouth of a cave high up the mountainside.

Lillian and Sam were undoubtedly best suited for these conditions. Where the Nemaru from the desert had adapted with shorter, thinner fur and smaller feet over the years they'd lived in the scorching heat, Lillian was used to the long, cold winters of the East Woods. With thick fur, wide paws, and catlike grace that made it look easy, trekking through the snow, she was painfully well-equipped.

Sam's tawny coat fit his long, lanky frame like a glove. He was gorgeous in wolf-form, all tapered edges and thick, sand-brown fur. His silhouette melted between the trees opposite the cliff they walked beside, a shadow against the snow, helping keep watch with the paler Nemaru.

Crynia heard him come up beside her, then the burst of snow and the crunch of footsteps as he shifted and jogged to catch up. "Let's walk for a while," he said as he breathed on his hands. "They aren't going particularly fast anyway."

Shaking the snow out of her dark fur, Crynia willed her bones to bend and reshape themselves. It was lightning-quick, almost painful with how tired she was after walking all night, and left her even colder than she'd been before as the frigid wind swept snow against her face. Hugging her arms close to her body, she wiggled her fingers in her gloves, searching for feeling. Frostbite didn't sound inviting.

Sam poked her cheek with his finger and frowned, rubbing his hands together. "You're freezing, Darling."

"I'm not very big, you know," she got out past chattering teeth, stomping to increase circulation in her toes. Their breath fogged in the air, blurring the pines and melting falling snowflakes. "Not everyone's tall and warm like you."

Sam laughed. "C'mere, you," he said softly, unbuttoning his coat and wrapping an arm around her back, his hand resting on her hip. His heat soaked into her like a sponge, soothing the shivers. Pressing into his warm body, Crynia wrapped her arm around his side and stuffed her other hand in her pocket to thaw, breathing in the sweaty, smoky scent that cloaked him.

"How much longer, do you think?" Her words were stunted by her clenched jaw as she bit down to keep her teeth still. "Half hour?"

"An hour, I'd say," Sam replied, tugging his hood up with his free hand. The snow was starting to fall more heavily, catching on her eyelashes and hair. "It'll take us longer with all this snow. Just be thankful we're not heading to the summit. That'd be a real pain."