“I’d rather be armed and ready instead.” Vale winked, palmed a climbing ax and disappeared around a corner.

—I sense you, princess. You are close. Get closer. I’ve waited so long.—

His voice! She’d heard it again, and it was sexier than ever, all smoke and sensuality, heating her blood. Her belly quivered. Just a figment of your imagination. Manage your excitement.

She tried to stand, but her legs refused to support her weight. Frustrated by her weakness, she banged her fist into the ice.

Helpless? Me? No! She would eat something, and regain a bit of her lost energy.

She trembled as she extracted a small copper pot from a pack, as well as the last can of fermented herring. Do not gag. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. As a baker extraordinaire, Nola would utilize the one skill she possessed in this type of situation: turning an unpalatable dish into something that wouldn’t murder anyone’s taste buds.

After bringing a chunk of ice to a boil, she readied the fish. Another five...ten minutes passed, but her sister never returned.

Nola choked down a couple of bites and finally called, “Vale?”

No response. Her ears twitched, picking up other noises. Whispers...cracking ice... Foreboding skittered down her spine. Had something happened to Vale?

Nola drew from a hidden reservoir of strength, and lumbered to unsteady legs.

Putting one foot in front of the other required great effort, but somehow she did it. Step. Step. Step. Tremble. Step. Step. She snaked around a corner, entering a larger chamber, with a higher ceiling and over twenty pillars of ice, all cracked. Vale stood on the other side, staring at one of those pillars as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Voice drenched with relief, GG said, —There you are. Come closer, princess. Let me get a good look at you.—

Wait. He was here here? He wasn’t a figment of her imagination? Hope rippled through her, as glorious as a warm summer’s day. Where are you?

An invisible rope seemed to wrap around her middle, drawing her deeper into the room. Deeper still, bypassing pillar after pillar.

Instinct spoke up again, saying, Not this one. Not that one. No. No again. Yes! This one.

She stopped and gasped, her hand fluttering over her heart. The pillar...it... She squinted and edged closer. There was a man inside it. An honest to goodness man, shockingly lifelike, glaring at her through the ice. He wore a black shirt, black leather pants and combat boots...just like the golden god she’d seen in her dreams. But more importantly, he had the golden god’s face.

I’m not delusional. Her heart pounded, and her skin heated. But, but...how was this possible?