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Winters passage julie kagawa pdf free download.Winter S Passage
Genres: Fantasy , Young Adult. Silhouetted black against the snow, it stalked closer, eyes a yellow flame in the shadows, breath coiling around it like wraiths. Ice-blue light glinted off wet teeth and a thick shaggy pelt, darker than midnight. Ash stood between the Hunter and me, sword unsheathed, his eyes never leaving the massive creature that had tracked us for days, and now, had finally caught up. The ancient golden eyes were fixed solely on me.
Okay, sometimes, you have no choice. Like when your little brother has been kidnapped, and you have to convince a prince of the Unseelie Court to help you rescue him instead of dragging you back to his queen. And faeries always come to collect. Which is how, 48 hours ago, I found myself walking across my front yard in the middle of the night, my house growing smaller and smaller in the background.
If I looked back, I might lose my nerve. At the edge of the woods, a dark prince and a pair of glowing, blue-eyed steeds waited for me. Prince Ash, third son of the Winter Court, regarded me gravely as I approached, his silver eyes reflecting the light of the moon. As I stepped into the shadows of the trees, Ash held out a pale, long-fingered hand, and I placed my own in his.
His fingers curled over mine, and he drew me close, hands resting lightly on my waist. I lay my head against his chest and closed my eyes, listening to his beating heart, breathing in the frosty scent of him. I pulled back to look at him, seeing myself reflected in those silver eyes. Ash had been the enemy, once. He was the youngest son of Mab, queen of Winter and the ancient rival of my father, Oberon, the king of the Summer Court.
But being a faery princess in the Nevernever proved to be extremely dangerous. For one, the Winter Queen sent Ash to capture me, to use me as leverage against Oberon. So, here I was. Ethan was home safe. Ash had kept his side of the bargain.
There was only one problem. Summer and Winter were not supposed to fall in love. I bit my lip and held his gaze, watching his expression. Though I had once viewed it as frozen solid, his demeanor had thawed somewhat during our time in the Nevernever. Now, looking at him, I imagined a glassy lake: still and calm, but only on the surface.
He shook his head slowly, and I could feel his reluctance. Ash raised an eyebrow, but otherwise his expression stayed the same. I took a deep breath. That would be unfortunate.
Puck and Ash were ancient enemies, and had already engaged each other in several savage, life-threatening duels before I was even in the picture. Ash had sworn to kill Puck, and Puck took great pleasure in goading the dangerous ice prince whenever he had the chance. It was only because I insisted they cooperate that they had agreed to an extremely shaky truce.
One of the horses snorted and pawed the ground, and Ash turned to put a hand on its neck. No more delays, understand? Thank y— I mean…I appreciate it, Ash. We have to find a trod to New Orleans. Nothing guarded the enormous rotting barn that sat in the middle of the swampy bayou, so covered in moss it looked like a shaggy green carpet was draped over the roof.
Mushrooms grew from the walls in bulbous clumps, huge spotted things that, if you looked closely enough, sheltered several tiny winged figures beneath them. They blinked at us as we went by, huge multifaceted eyes peering out from under the mushroom caps, and took to the air in a flurry of iridescent wings. I jumped, but Ash and the horses ignored them as we stepped beneath the sagging frame and everything went white. I blinked and looked around as the world came into focus again.
The trees were massive, soaring to mind-boggling heights, interlocking branches blocking out the sky. Everything was dark and faded, like all color had been washed out, a forest trapped in perpetual twilight. I thought we were going to New Orleans. I grabbed for the mane, but it slipped through my fingers, and I tumbled backward out of the saddle, hitting the ground behind the horse, snapping bushes underneath. Snorting in terror, the fey steed charged off toward the trees, leaped over a fallen branch and vanished into the mist.
Groaning, I sat up, testing my body for pain. Scowling, I glared in the direction my mount had disappeared. And another time one tried to eat me. Something spooked them. Around us, the wyldwood was still and dark, as if the inhabitants were afraid to move. I looked behind us, where the trunks of two trees had grown into each other, forming an archway between. The space between the trunks, where the trod lay, was cloaked in shadow, and it seemed to me that the shadows were creeping closer.
A cold wind hissed through the trunks, rattling branches and tossing leaves, and I shivered. With a frantic rushing sound a flock of tiny winged fey burst from the trod, swirling around us in panic and spiraling into the mist. Ash took my hand and pulled me away from the trod, hurrying back to his mount. Lifting me to sit just behind the saddle, he grabbed the reins and climbed up in front.
Ash dug in his heels with a shout, and the horse shot forward, snapping my head back. I squeezed Ash tightly and buried my face in his back as the faery horse streaked through the wyldwood, leaving the trod far behind. We stopped infrequently, and when we did, it was only to let me and the horse rest for a few minutes. He remained wary and suspicious, and never truly relaxed the entire journey.
The horse, too, was jumpy and restless, and it panicked at every shadow, every rustle or falling leaf. Something was following us; I felt it every time we stopped, a dark, shadowy presence drawing ever closer As we rode on through the night, the eternal twilight of the wyldwood finally dimmed and a pale yellow moon rose into the sky. Ash and the fey horse both had seemingly unlimited endurance, more so than me, anyway.
Riding a horse for hours and hours is not easy, and the stress of being chased by an unknown enemy was taking its toll. I was dozing off once more, fighting to keep my eyes open, when Ash suddenly pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted. Blinking, I looked around dazedly, seeing nothing but trees and shadows. Move forward. We should be safe there. What does it want?
In that moment, I felt safe. Settling back against him, I closed my eyes and let myself drift. I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew Ash was shaking me gently. Without the cover of the trees, I could see the sky, dotted with stars. The glade was clear, except for one massive gnarled oak in the very center. Roots snaked out over the ground, huge thick things that prevented anything bigger than a fern to flourish. The trunk was wide and twisted, like three or four trees had been squashed together into one.
Its branches drooped, or had snapped off and were scattered about the base of the tree. Most of its broad, veined leaves were dead and brittle; the rest were a sickly yellow-brown. The glade, too, looked withered and sick, as if the tree was leeching life from the forest around it. I gazed at the dying tree and felt an incomprehensible sadness, as if I were seeing an old friend about to die.
Shaking it off, I looked around for a doorway or gate, but the tree was the only thing here. Will it open? When it stopped, I slid out of the saddle and joined him.
Doors in trees were not unusual in the Nevernever. How do you get it to open? For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a loud groaning and creaking, one of the massive roots snaked out of the ground, shedding dirt and twigs. Rising into the air, it formed an archway between itself and the ground, and the space between shimmered with magic.
Puck was through that gateway. If he was still alive. I tripped over a root on the other side and stumbled forward, barely catching myself.
Straightening, I gazed around the moonlit grove of New Orleans City Park, recognizing the huge mossy oaks from our last visit. The air was humid, warm and peaceful. Crickets buzzed, leaves rustled and moonlight shimmered off the nearby lake. Nothing had changed.
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