Given I was wading through white powder well above my knees and couldn’t see more than a few paces in either direction, I was inclined to agree.

“It’s the fairies,” I shouted over the gale. “This is their doing.” Or, at the very least, her doing. In my opinion, one did not claim to be the queen of a season without having a certain degree of power over the weather.

“Why?” she demanded. “If they can go to worlds beyond number, what makes ours so special? What do they want?”

Something. The foretelling had come from the fey, which meant they had wanted the curse broken. I sincerely doubted it was for the freedom of coming and going from this particular world, and it hadn’t been for the sake of the trolls. The fey didn’t do favors. The Summer King, at any rate, had something to gain from their freedom, but what, I couldn’t say.

“Maybe we should go back.” Sabine stopped in her tracks, dropping the skirts of her elaborate gown so that it pooled around her knees. “Tristan said the fairies cannot pass the steel in the walls encircling the castle – that we’d be safe within them.”

I shoved my hands into my armpits, eyeing the grey haze blocking the Regent’s castle from our view. I didn’t want to go much further into the city in case we needed to make a hasty retreat. “Well, clearly they don’t keep trolls out, so safe is a relative term. The trolls are the immediate threat, and if we are to have any hope of winning this war, we need to know their plans. And we can’t talk to the fairies unless we’re somewhere they can reach us.” I started walking again, forcing her to follow. “We’re doing the right thing.”

“Which is why you didn’t tell Tristan where we were going?”

I stumbled over something hidden beneath the snow and fell, swearing as my borrowed skirts caught and tore. “He’s got his hands full with the Regent.” And judging from the emotions coming from him, it wasn’t going well.

“Time is of the essence,” I said, thrashing around in the snow in an attempt to free myself. “We can’t be sitting around waiting for Tristan’s permission for every move we make.”

“For goodness sake, what are you doing?” Sabine grabbed me under the armpits and heaved.

“My skirt is stuck on something,” I said, kicking my feet.

She pulled harder, and both of us inhaled sharply as a frozen corpse appeared from beneath the snow. Half of a corpse.

“The dragon,” I said, tugging my skirt free from where it was caught on the shattered ribcage, my plan suddenly seeming far more risky as we glanced skyward.

What felt like icy fingers brushed my brow and the world seemed to shudder. The sensation faded in an instant, but Sabine was also shaking her head as though to clear it. My spine prickled with unease. “Maybe we should go back.”