Christopher Golden - The Veil 01 - The Myth Hunters by The Myth Hunters

is all one and the same.
     
     
“You are considered an Intruder because you can go back. When one of the Borderkind opens a portal, it is a tear in the very fabric of the Veil’s magic. You’ve crossed to the other side of the Veil without being touched by it. You can return, as long as you have a Borderkind to open the way. For the Lost Ones . . . not even a Borderkind can bring them back through. That is the nature of the enchantments used to create the Veil.
     
     
“But you are not Lost. You are an Intruder. And no Intruder is ever allowed to pass through the Veil and live. You will be executed the moment you are discovered. Unless we can keep you hidden.”
     
     
Oliver took a ragged breath and pressed his eyes tightly closed. He pushed his fists against them as though that might somehow make it all go away.
     
     
“What are you talking about?” he demanded, opening his eyes and staring at the winter man. “He’s after you . Okay, I did you a favor, but I didn’t want to come here, I—”
     
     
The winter man had seemed hesitant. Now all such hesitation fell away. Jagged ice and frozen eyes, he did not so much lunge at Oliver as slide toward him. Sharp blue-white talons snatched up the front of Oliver’s wet shirt and frost formed on the fabric, crinkling as Frost clutched it tightly.
     
     
“That’s enough!” he hissed, his breath frigid in Oliver’s face. “I owe you my life, Oliver Bascombe. I shall not forget that. But a wasted effort it shall be if your foolishness keeps us here long enough for Hunters to arrive. The Falconer and his comrades will care nothing for your excuses. It is time that you—”
     
     
“No!” Oliver shouted at him. He plucked at his sodden shirt where it stuck to him and his boots squelched as he marched away. Panic thrummed in his chest. “I have to . . .”
     
     
He stopped. Swallowed. Reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I have to go back,” he whispered. Oliver shook his head. “Oh, shit. Oh, Julianna, I’m sorry.”
     
     
The winter man must have sensed the change in him, for he stood back and waited, arms crossed. Oliver took several deep breaths. Where those snakes of fear had coiled in his stomach, he felt something harden. After a moment he took one final, shuddering breath. The breeze across the lake had kicked up a little and though the night was comfortably warm, he shivered in his wet clothes. The sweet air helped to wake him. The sparse trees rustled with the wind, but other than that, nothing moved.
     
     
Grim weight bore down upon his shoulders, but Oliver stood taller, managing it. “All right.” His left eye twitched as he said it. “We’re here. I still only have the vaguest idea where here is, and you’re going to have to explain it all to me. All of it. But if we could be in danger, staying here, then you can talk while we go.”
     
     
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up, trying to dry it a little. A little laugh escaped him. “Jesus. All right.” Oliver glanced around again. “Which way? Toward the mountain?”
     
     
The winter man shook his head in consternation, icicles of hair shaking. “No. There is ice atop the mountains. That is the first place they would look for me. It would restore my power more quickly than I can manage myself, but I can’t return home until this is ended. We’ll go northeast to start, to get away from the lake, and then due east until we meet the Truce Road.”
     
     
Oliver opened his mouth, but could summon no response. What was there left to say? He plucked again at his wet clothes where they stuck to his body. It would be an uncomfortable trek until they dried, and they had no supplies, no food at all. He wondered if Frost needed to eat, or would consider that Oliver did.
     
     
“What are we waiting for?”
     
     
Frost started off across the brittle grass on a diagonal path away from the lake. After a moment, Oliver followed him. He started to unbutton