Morning broke, and with it, my dignity. I wiped my mouth, as a trail of drool had been dribbling its way across my cheek, and onto the well-toned arm of a sleeping Torrin. My face flushed instantly as I realised I had been using him as a pillow at some point during the night.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no,” I muttered under my breath, moving away from him as quietly as possible.

  In my haste, I placed my hand on open air, missing the edge of the bed entirely, and I tumbled off with an inelegant thud. The sound jolted Torrin awake, his eyes blinking blearily as he looked around for the source of the commotion.

  “What—?” he started, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze landed on me sprawled on the floor, tangled in the blanket as if I’d been wrestling with it and lost. “Hattie? What are you doing down there?”

  “Stretching,” I said quickly, though my tone lacked conviction. “Morning stretches. Very important before a long day of travel.”

  Torrin raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into an infuriatingly amused smirk. “Right. Stretching. Sure.”

  Before I could embarrass myself further, there was a knock at the door. Lyra’s voice called out, “Are we leaving soon? Evan’s already eaten half the bread.”

  “We’ll be down in a minute,” Torrin replied, pulling on his boots and reaching for a shirt from his pack. He shot me one last teasing glance as I scrambled to my feet, brushing off the blanket and my wounded pride.

  The morning was brisk as we stepped into the town square, the air carrying the promise of a clear but chilly day. Lyra and Evan were already waiting by the fountain, their new gear fitting snugly and providing a much-needed layer of warmth against the mountain air.

  “You ready?” Torrin asked them, his tone gruff but not unkind. Lyra nodded, her grip tightening on Evan’s hand. The boy’s eyes darted around the bustling square, his expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

  “What about supplies?” I asked. “Do we have everything we need for the pass?”

  Torrin gave a short nod. “Picked up some extra rations and a sheet of canvas yesterday. It’ll do for a small tent or windbreak if we need it.” He patted the pack slung over his shoulder. “Let’s get moving. The sooner we’re through the pass, the better.”

  The climb was arduous, the trail narrowing as we ascended into the mountains. The air grew colder with every step, and the wind cut through our cloaks with biting ferocity. Glowbug’s light dimmed as it nestled deeper into my hood, its warmth a welcome comfort at my neck.

  By midday, we stopped under a rocky outcropping and paused to recover our strength. Torrin unpacked the canvas sheet, securing it to create a windbreak. Lyra and Evan huddled together beneath it, their faces flushed from the cold.

  “Here,” Torrin said, handing me a piece of dried meat. “Eat something. You’ll need the energy.”

  I accepted it gratefully, chewing slowly as I watched the siblings. Lyra was murmuring something to Evan, her voice soft but firm. The boy nodded, his expression serious as he leaned into her side.

  “They’re tough,” Torrin said, following my gaze. “Tougher than they look.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “But they shouldn’t have to be. Not like this. They’re so young, they should be …doing kid stuff.”

  Torrin didn’t reply, his gaze distant as he scanned the trail ahead. “Finish up,” he said after a moment. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

  The afternoon passed slowly and monotonously. Aching muscles and the relentless wind only made our progress up the mountain slower. The trail rose up steeper and the ground became less solid, the gravel and flint of the path forcing us to watch our footing with every step. By the time the sun began to dip below the peaks, casting long shadows over the landscape, we were all exhausted.

  “We’ll camp here,” Torrin announced, pointing to a flat expanse of rock sheltered by an overhanging cliff on one side. “Get the canvas up. Harriet, help me with the fire.”

  I nodded, dropping my pack and gathering kindling from the sparse vegetation. The fire’s warmth was a welcome relief as we settled in for the night, the flames casting flickering light over our weary faces.

  “Tomorrow’s the hard part,” Torrin said, his voice low as he stared into the fire. “The pass is narrow, and the wind’s worse up there. We’ll need to move carefully.”

  “We’ll manage,” Lyra said, her tone defiant. “We’ve faced worse than this.”

  Evan nodded, his small hand clutching hers tightly. Glowbug whistled softly from its perch on a nearby rock, its light pulsing gently as if in agreement.

  The fire crackled steadily, but the chill still gnawed at my fingers as I rubbed them together for warmth. Torrin’s movements were precise as he added another branch, his watchful eyes scanning the shadows beyond our camp. Lyra sat close to Evan, murmuring softly to him while adjusting his cloak. Glowbug’s hum blended with the sighing of the wind. I pulled my blanket tighter, my gaze drifting to the jagged silhouette of the mountain ahead. Its shadow loomed over us, dark and still.

  A low rumble crept into the night, deep and steady, reverberating through the still air. I assumed it was distant thunder, but the way Torrin's gaze snapped toward the cliffs told me that assumption was a mistake we couldn’t afford to make. The sound grew louder, a steady rhythm like the pounding of a massive drum. Rocks began to dislodge from the trail above, tumbling down with sharp clatters.

  Torrin was on his feet in an instant, sword in hand. “Wake up! Stay together and stay low!”

  Lyra and Evan scrambled to their feet, their faces pale as they clutched at each other. I reached for my bow, my hands trembling as I nocked an arrow, the vibrations in the ground now so close they were throwing me off balance. The rumbling grew deafening, and now I recognised the rhythm as the heavy thudding of enormous footsteps.

  From the shadows of the cliffside, a massive figure emerged, its silhouette illuminated by the flickering firelight.

  The Ice Ogre towered above us, its pale blue skin glistening like frost in the dim light. A single, jagged horn jutted from its forehead, and it scanned the camp with a predatory stare. In its massive hands, it gripped the trunk of an uprooted tree, the makeshift club easily twice my height.

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  “Torrin,” I said, my voice tense but steady. “What’s the plan?”

  “We fight,” he said grimly, his eyes never leaving the Ogre. “Stay behind me and wait for my signal.”

  The Ice Ogre let out a guttural roar, the sound reverberating through the canyon and shaking the ground beneath our feet. It raised its massive club and charged toward us, its footsteps causing more rocks to cascade down the cliffs. The air grew colder with each step it took, frost forming on the edges of the firewood.

  Torrin moved like lightning, positioning himself between the Ogre and the rest of us. “Lyra! Take Evan and get behind the rocks. Harriet, you’re with me. We’ll take this thing together.”

  “We fight,” he said grimly, his eyes locked on the Ogre’s hulking frame. He shifted his stance, raising his sword. "Harriet, get to cover and ready your bow. Lyra, take Evan and keep him safe. This thing’s going to take everything we’ve got."

  Without hesitation, I darted across the camp, the cold air biting at my skin as I ducked behind a cluster of jagged rocks opposite Torrin’s position. Glowbug zipped nervously overhead before nestling closer to Lyra and Evan, its soft light dimming as if sensing the tension.

  Lyra tugged Evan behind their shelter, her eyes darting between me and Torrin. She called out, her voice tight with worry, "Don’t die out there, Hattie!"

  I nodded, my throat dry as I drew the bowstring taut, aiming at the Ogre’s left eye. Torrin stood firm, his sword gleaming in the firelight as the creature’s guttural roar echoed through the canyon. It lunged forward, its makeshift club raised high. Torrin sidestepped the first swing, the tree trunk smashing into the ground where he had been moments before, sending a spray of shattered stone and frost into the air.

  “Harriet, now!” Torrin’s shout cut through the chaos, his blade flashing as he ducked under a wild swipe aimed at his head.

  I exhaled slowly, steadying my aim despite the quaking ground. Releasing the arrow, I watched as it flew true, striking the Ogre’s eye. The creature bellowed in pain, staggering as its massive hands shot up to cover its face. The brief distraction gave Torrin an opening, and he lunged forward, his blade carving deep into the Ogre’s thigh.

  The beast reeled, its movements frantic and wild. I nocked another arrow, my heart hammering as I scanned for another opening. "Torrin, keep it turning! I’ll aim for the other eye!" I called out, already drawing the bowstring again.

  I released the arrow, but the Ogre, now thrashing wildly, moved too erratically. The arrow sailed harmlessly past its ear. “Damn it!” I hissed, fumbling for another. Torrin was already dodging a devastating swing of the club, the impact of which sent tremors through the ground.

  The next moment, the Ogre’s massive hand swung low, catching Torrin off guard. He managed to deflect part of the blow, but the force knocked him back, his sword slipping from his grip as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his arm. “Torrin!” I shouted, fear flooding my voice.

  Torrin scrambled to get up, but his left arm hung limply. Broken. But that wouldn’t stop him from keeping the monster’s focus. He shouted at the top of his lungs, and began weaving in and out of the Ogre’s reach. He lunged forward, dagger in his good hand, swiping at the Ogre’s thick legs to keep it off balance. The beast roared, its enormous fists smashing into the rocky ground of the mountain pass, sending debris skittering down the slopes.

  “Over here, you ugly brute!” Torrin bellowed, his voice echoing across the barren cliffs.

  I crouched behind what little cover there was to be had, frantically searching for an opening. My heart raced as I pulled an arrow from my quiver with shaking hands. Torrin’s constant taunts kept the Ogre’s attention firmly on him, giving me the moment I needed. I notched the arrow and took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I pulled the string taut.

  Suddenly, a yell pierced the air. My focus faltered, and I whipped my head around just in time to see Lyra sprinting out from her hiding spot behind a boulder, a burning branch clutched in her hands. My stomach flipped.

  “Lyra, no!” I shouted, my voice cracking with panic.

  She ignored me, her face set with fierce determination. She hurled the flaming branch straight at the Ogre’s head. The wood struck its thick hide and burst into a shower of sparks. The Ogre roared, swatting at its own face in confusion, the flames momentarily disorienting it.

  Lyra darted back toward cover, but her distraction had done its job. The Ogre staggered, its massive hands clawing at the embers clinging to its skin. My chance. I took a deep breath, aimed for its remaining eye, and loosed the arrow. The shot sailed through the air, sinking deep into the soft orb. The Ogre’s bellow of pain shook the air as it fell to its knees, clutching its face.

  The moment the arrow struck, I spotted Torrin’s sword lying among the scattered rocks. My heart pounded as I scrambled forward, snatching it up with both hands. The blade was heavier than I’d expected, but the weight felt right in my grip.

  “Finish it!” Torrin yelled, his voice strained but urgent.

  The Ogre twisted, still blinded and roaring in pain, it swung one of its tree-trunk arms in a wide arc. I ducked under it, feeling the rush of air as it passed just over my head. I tightened my grip on the blade, darted forward, and with every ounce of strength I could muster, I drove the sword upward into the thick, corded muscle of its neck. The blade sank deep, finding its mark. A choked, wet gurgle was all that came from the Ogre, and it collapsed onto its face, shaking the ground with its weight.

  I leapt back as it fell, the sword sticking deep in its throat. Gathering my courage, I stepped in again, yanking the blade free with a sickening squelch. With a final cry, I drove it down into the back of the Ogre’s neck, slicing through bone and sinew until I was sure that it wouldn’t be getting up again.

  For a moment, all I heard was the pounding of my heartbeat. My chest heaved as I stepped back, the sword slipped from my grasp and fell to the rocky ground. Glowbug flitted down, its soft light illuminating the gruesome scene.

  “Harriet!” Torrin’s voice snapped me out of my daze. He stumbled toward me, his face pale and drawn. His broken arm hung useless at his side, but his gaze was steady. “You did it. You actually did it. Remind me not to underestimate you again.”

  I turned to see Lyra standing a few feet away, her hands still shaking as she clutched the charred remains of another branch, as though readying herself to throw it at the now dead and decapitated beast. She looked at me, wide-eyed, before collapsing onto a nearby rock. I rushed to her side, kneeling beside her.

  “Lyra, are you okay?” I asked, my voice soft.

  She nodded slowly, her breaths shallow. “I thought… you needed help,” she said, her eyes fixed on the ground.

  “You were brave,” I said, gripping her shoulder. “Again. Reckless, but brave. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks.”

  Torrin approached us, his steps uneven. Glowbug hovered near him, its light dimming as it began to hum softly, its healing energy wrapping around his broken arm. The tension in his face eased slightly as the worst of his injuries were soothed, though his arm still hung awkwardly. Glowbug chirped apologetically, clearly unable to fully mend the break.

  “It’s enough,” Torrin muttered, tying a sling fashioned from his torn sleeve. “Pack as quickly as you can. We need to get moving.”

  I stood, nodding, and began gathering our scattered belongings. The fire was little more than embers, its faint glow casting eerie shadows across the mountain pass. My hands trembled as I worked, the weight of the battle pressing down on me. The Ogre was dead, but Torrin was right—we couldn’t stay here.