Asena pressed the heels of her palms to her ears as another of Akira’s screams tore through the night. As the scream dissipated, she removed her hands and sighed.

“How much longer can either of them keep going?” she asked no one in particular.

Ehren looked up from where he was trying to stop the blood flowing from Akira’s mutilated back. He sighed. Dark circles rested beneath his eyes. He’d barely slept these last few weeks and it showed. He wasn’t the only one who’d slept little; they all were running on very little sleep at this point.

“How close are we to our destination?” she asked, turning to her mother.

“I cannot gage the distance from memories of your father,” she replied coolly.

Asena sighed again, her breath coming out in a puff of steam.

“We are close, I can feel it,” Akira groaned quietly.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“Or more accurately, Loki’s curse can feel it,” she said, answering their unspoken question.

“But…” Ehren started.

Akira held up a hand for a second, cutting him off.

“Curses are tricky things, his are even more so,” she told them slowly, groaning as she moved into a more comfortable position. “Mine had burrowed deep, so there was no true way for him to remove it without killing me. And he wouldn’t do that, even though he could bring me back, and risk the wrath of both Hel and Freyja. Where is my brother?”

“Mavi is with him about a mile behind us,” Asena answered.

“Why are they so far behind?” Akira asked.

No one answered her. Asena figured it was better she not know just how bad her brother’s condition was. If she knew, Asena was sure Akira would worry more about his health than her own. And right now, her own health was balancing on a knife’s edge. Frostbite was a serious possibility for Akira with her back continuously bleeding. No matter how clean the prince made it the night before, by morning there would be a small pool of blood behind or beside where Akira lay. On the nights they had to spend out in the elements, the blood would be frozen to her and the ground and couldn’t be moved until snow had been melted over the fire and poured over the frozen blood. Those mornings, burns were the more pressing concern until the blood was melted and washed away. Asena went over to where Akira and the prince were sitting.

“Turn around and let me see your back,” she ordered the girl.

“You don’t trust me to look after her back?” Ehren snapped.

“I don’t trust you to know what the beginnings of frostbite look like,” she replied evenly.

“And how would you know what the beginnings of frostbite look like?” he spat.

“Kindly remember that I am nearly 200 years old, there is little I have not seen, child,” her voice was saccharine but her smile was positively deadly.

Tension permeated the freezing winter air.

“Fuck you!” Ehren spat.

“Anytime la petit prince, but consider her feelings before you take me up on my offer,” she nodded toward Akira with a sadistic smirk.

Asena watched as the prince turned six shades of red.

“Children!” Akira snapped shoving her way between them before dissolving into a violent fit of coughing.

Asena wrapped an arm around her waist and eased her back into a seated position.

“Take it easy, Kira,” she murmured.

“Kind of hard when everyone is constantly at each others’ throats,” Akira coughed.

“I’m sorry for fighting with him Ylva,” she whispered the nickname Akira’s father had called her. She was the only one Akira had told about the nickname. Asena figured calling her by the nickname would keep Loxley alive for her. Akira dissolved into another fit of coughing. Asena smoothed a few silver-white tendrils of hair away from her forehead. As she did, she felt heat radiating from Akira’s skin. Asena pressed her lips to Akira’s forehead.

Fuck, she’s got a fever, Asena thought turning Akira so her back was to her. She prodded the mutilated flesh causing Akira to flinch at her touch. Much of her skin was taught and swollen. Not to mention, her skin was disturbingly hot to the touch. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Asena cursed herself for one not seeing this sooner and two not being prepared for this possibility. This isn’t good. She’s got an infection and we’re in the middle of bum fucking nowhere.

“Akira’s back is infected,” she told the group.

“How do you know?” Ehren asked.

“The skin around them is inflamed, badly, and very hot to the touch,” she answered. “Plus, it’s painful.”

“Pain is relative,” Akira muttered.