Beaming, she turns to Caolan and finds him still sleeping. She pinches him hard again. Surely, he can wake up now.

As Croi is congratulating herself on a battle won, the temperature plummets, and her fear returns, becoming a living thing, beating frantically in her throat. Her chest twinges. She’s still holding on to Caolan’s hand and dimly realizes that it is clutching hers in a strong grip. Caolan turns so his body is shielding hers. Croi hides her face in his chest, somehow knowing the next few moments will test their courage.

They don’t wait long.

First there’s the sound of something like cloth being dragged on the ground, a soft sibilance that freezes the flame in her blood. Then there’s the smell of decay. The stench of death is more rancid than the stink of fear—fear still retains small notes of hope. Death doesn’t. Death smells like the end.

The sound stops beside the cage that, Croi realizes with some shock, has stopped moving. She senses eyes that travel over the prone bodies of the kin; these eyes stop when they reach her. She feels a gaze prickling her exposed limbs. She knows she should keep her eyes closed and pretend to be as unconscious as the rest of them. She knows this, but her eyes open anyway. Croi lifts her head, peeks over Caolan’s shoulder, and freezes.

SEVENTEEN

NIGHTMARES WOULD LOSE THEIR POTENCY in front of this creature.

He stands tall, with limbs clothed in a dark material that seems to absorb all the light around it. His skin is as pale as moonlight, and his fingernails are crimson. White-blond hair falls down to his shoulders. The top of his head is a glistening red, like freshly drawn blood—he is a Redcap. His face is cold carved marble; the skin on both sides of his mouth and both his eyes is cracked, like the parched earth during a drought, revealing the flesh underneath.

She cannot see his eyes as they’re hooded. The picture is incomplete—a small mercy.

The stench emanating from the Redcap is overpowering. Croi swallows twice to repress the bile climbing up her throat. Suddenly she is not as optimistic about finding her pack and Uaine’s SoulSeed. The thought of being eaten by a creature such as this makes her shudder, and Caolan’s arms tighten around her. Perhaps he is afraid too.

Croi shifts in Caolan’s tight embrace and wonders if she should risk another peek over his shoulder. How long is the Redcap going to remain in the cage? Just when Croi is about to expire from the tension, the Redcap leaves with a curious clicking sound, taking with him both the arctic temperature and the smell of death. As soon as he is gone, Croi pushes against Caolan’s arms and he eases his grip.

She moves back, but there’s only so far she can go. The carriage is crowded. Croi busies herself for a few minutes by pushing away the unconscious kin. The cage starts moving again, causing several of them to slide in different directions. When she looks back, Caolan hastily averts his gaze. Croi pats her face. Has she become more hideous since the day before?