Spine twisted to try and get a better look the cut, he felt rather than saw the ice spear whistle through the space his head had recently vacated. For another heartbeat he stood silhouetted in the doorway like an idiot with a death wish, then dove to the right as the second spear passed. He froze, tucked into the deep shadow at the base of the wall, biting back an adrenaline-fueled snicker. Seriously? Froze?

The freezer was huge, but except for the light spilling through the door, it was also dark. It never got truly dark on the ice fields and his uncles had told him that Frost Giants had terrible night sight. Dragons, however, saw almost as well at night as they did during the day. The moment the giant stuck a snowball out from behind a hanging half of frozen cow, he’d see it. On the other hand, while his internal temperature would keep him comfortable for a while, sustained cold was not a dragon’s friend. When he’d pointed that out, his first year with Allie and Graham, Graham had pointed out in turn that Alberta winters were no one’s friend. The giants, however, could stay in the freezer indefinitely. Or until they needed to eat. Jack had no idea what Frost Giants ate, but if it was . . .

The water vapor in the air five centimeters above the floor froze solid. If the wave hadn’t started back in the shadows and moved in a glittering curve toward the door, it would’ve caught him. Trapped him. Jack jumped for a tabletop, knocked a digital scale flying, and flattened as another ice spear smashed against the wall.

“Hey! Dial it back! I come in peace! I know the Courts screwed you over. You’d have never come through, here and now, had it been your choice. I’m here to help!”

“Who are you to help us, Dragon Lord?” The words cracked and groaned like ice breaking up in the spring. Sirens spoke the language seduction required, the Courts needed to be understood when they yelled, “I’m open over here!” But the Frost Giants refused to speak any language other than their own with such vehemence they made Quebec’s language police look like mall cops. Since they never left the ice fields, that wasn’t usually a problem. Fortunately, understanding language was a Dragon Lord thing.

“We talk, they listen,” had been Uncle Viktor’s explanation.

“Why not allow prey to try and talk their way free?” Uncle Adam had said, after Uncle Viktor had gone off to lick his wounds. “They have no other means of defense.”