Chapter 50: What’s That Noise
“Ugh—hurts.” Lilith clutched her head and pushed herself off the ice, breath fogging like torn silk. Now she knew why Nidhogg warned her. Waking like this bit like iron, because the pain of dying didn’t fade with the dream. It chased her into her bones.
She nearly blacked out the moment she came to. It hurt worse than stubbing a pinky toe on a table leg, then stepping on Legos barefoot. The thought alone made her vision snow over. If she hadn’t just fallen out of a dream, she’d have dropped right back into it.
The Little White Dragon writhed across the frost like a wounded pup, dignity tossed to the wind. She rolled and rolled, whimpering “mm, mm, mm,” as the cold bit like needles.
Lucky. No other breath stirred the air. Only her, alone on a white sheet, rolling like a snow-mussed fox. If anyone had seen this, she’d have made them erase the memory. If they couldn’t, she’d help them forget.
“Ugh—never again.” Lilith pressed a hand to her belly and stood, swaying like grass under a weak wind. She panted, shook the daze from her head, and took in the world.
She lay on a spotless icefield, a white plate under a white sky. Behind her sat a drift like a frozen wave. She figured that was the white surge she’d ridden while traveling.
The little house was gone. In its place loomed a clotted, crawling disgust, black as pitch. It gorged on something unseen, greed chewing like teeth in mist. She’d frozen it mid-bite.
“Is this…the Gaze of Darkness?” Lilith reached out, curious, and poked the Wraith trapped in crystal ice. Her memory of the dream blurred like breath on glass. She only recalled this villain trying to eat something of hers. What, she couldn’t say.
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter now. It was a fly in amber, unable to do a thing.
Lilith bowed her head and offered the Gaze of Darkness a silent prayer. May this Miss Wraith thaw into wisdom, and stop binge-eating shadows like this.
She packed the ice tighter with Star Energy, layer upon layer like lacquer. With enough magic, the White Dragon made sure the Wraith wouldn’t thaw before the Moonswallow Mist was dispersed. Only then did the Little White Dragon move on.
“Achoo!” She’d barely left Miss Gaze of Darkness before a small sneeze cracked the silence. Sitting too long in the snow had numbed her legs like frozen reeds. Even with a cool body that feared little cold, she’d caught a chill in this sea of white.
She sniffed hard and wrapped her cloak tight, a cocoon against scouring wind. The heavy cloth kept out snow and knives of air. But the thick drifts underfoot yielded only to her slender shins.
Lilith was tired. The dream hadn’t battered her body, but it had wrung her mind dry like a damp sleeve. All she wanted was a warm stove. Sit by it. Toast her scales. Doze with eyes half-lidded, a cat by the hearth.
But she stood in the icefield’s heart. Around her, only blue-white trees like frost-burned pines, and a horizon of blank silk. Not a single roofline in sight.
One mercy. The air carried the Grand Mausoleum’s own reek—blood and rot braided like smoke and iron. That told her this was real. Not an illusion cast by some Undead Wraith to pen her in.
Knowing that, her heart lightened like a paper lantern. But she still hadn’t found Nidhogg. Regret pooled like meltwater. Why had she thrown a fit and come alone? If she’d stuck with Nidhogg, she wouldn’t be stranded here like a fool.
She scolded herself under her breath. As the Little White Dragon weighed how to track Nidhogg, a sound cut the cold.
“Awooo!” A clear fox-cry rang out, silver on ice. It snapped Lilith’s attention like a twig.
“Awooo—ow—mm—mm…” The bright call shrank into timid whines. Lilith knew that voice. That was Miss Sakunae Mashiro. But who could make the fox fold so fast?
She bit down on the ache behind her eyes and rode the snow itself, making it push her along. She skimmed low, slicing the white like a crane over water.
To ease the strain on her mind, the Little White Dragon drew her Astrolabe. The white marble staff settled in her palm, and a quiet warmth rose like dawn.
“Let me see what’s going on.” Lilith drifted to Miss Sakunae’s location, slow and swaying like a falling petal. She raised a mound of snow and tucked herself small behind it. Only half her little head peeked out.
Miss Sakunae had turned into a great fox again, strong and tall, fur like a winter blaze. Yet a black figure had her pinned and was pounding her mercilessly. The fox lay on the ground, four legs flailing like paddles in a frozen pond, whimpering pitifully.
Lilith hurried and stirred the Taint she’d left in Miss Sakunae’s body, drawing the Moonswallow Mist out thread by thread. To keep the black figure from finishing her off, the Little White Dragon sprang up and threw her voice into the wind.
“Wait.” Lilith leapt from behind the snow mound, words sharp as a bell. The way that black figure moved tugged at her, familiar as an old scar. That fighting rhythm—it felt like an old friend’s hand.
“Lilith?” The black figure halted at her call. She turned, and the face Lilith had yearned for shone through like a star behind cloud.
“Nidhogg?” The Little White Dragon froze for a heartbeat. Then she lifted like a feather on wind and flew into her.
“Found you at last.” Lilith crashed into Nidhogg’s arms and clung, the whole small dragon draped over the Black Dragon. She buried her head against Nidhogg’s chest and spoke through a breaking breath. “I was so scared alone.”
“It’s okay now.” Nidhogg felt the tremor in the small dragon’s frame. She swallowed every scolding on her tongue, and wrapped Lilith in a quiet, steady hold.
On the ground, Miss Sakunae thrashed once and finally slipped free of the Moonswallow Mist. Sanity returned like a thaw. She lifted her head—and saw two dragons melted into one embrace.
“?” Where’d the one who thumped me go?
