Cove gasped in pain as he opened his eyes. He was sprawled on the freezing, icy ground of a cloud cave.

The monster had thrown him down with enough force to knock Cove unconscious for god knows how long. Cove glimpsed only darkness out of the mouth of the cave. He wondered if the other boys had managed to set up camp by now, ready to reach Trolvbard in the morning?

His fingertips still felt the ghost touch of Drift’s, they had been so close.

Cove wondered if Drift would feel relief that Cove was finally out of his life? It had been on the orders of Captain Shin as well, so the other boy wouldn’t even be blamed or have to pay any financial compensation.

Cove thought of Drift’s expression up on the cliff. He had looked so scared that Cove might fall. Surely Cove was reading too much into it? He had done nothing but infuriate Drift since arriving on the ship. No, Drift hated Cove just as much as Cove hated him.

Cove thought of all the times Drift had seemed even somewhat human over the past few weeks. There was that time when Drift came to help him with bathroom cleaning duties. The other boy had done all the mopping and told Cove just to polish the sinks.

Cove had complained petulantly that his hands smelled like polishing vinegar for days afterwards.

There were also dinner times when Drift would give Cove his portions of meat.

Cove had complained it was just because Drift just wanted an opportunity to ridicule how lanky and weak Cove was.

The fact that Drift always let Cove share his hammock. The one time Robbo had said Cove could share with him instead, Drift had even looked angry and manhandled Cove by the hips away from the red headed boy.

Cove had complained about the bruises Drift had left, calling the other boy a brute.

There was also the evening when one of the older shipmates had lecherously joked about using Cove as a physical wager during a game of cards. Drift had been given ten lashes for breaking the other guy’s nose.

Cove had complained about having to help salt the wounds to stave off infections.

Cove thought about how Drift had taught him to safely climb the rigging and get up to the crow’s nest for night watch duty. Or the fact that after that day they had discovered that Cove did not like heights one little bit so his name had mysteriously disappeared from all crow’s nest rotas. Drift’s duties, however, had doubled.

Entitled brat

Drift’s words stung in Cove’s mind.

Cove shook his head to try and gather his thoughts, he didn’t want to die lying on the floor of a stratus yeti’s cave whilst feeling sorry for himself.

He sat up and looked around, the yeti had moved into the front part of the cave and was currently munching on something foul smelling. Cove winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of bones cracking and a white feather fluttered limply to the ground.

The yeti was disgusting looking, with huge lanky arms and elongated fingers tipped with black, rotting fingernails. Its mouth was far too wide for its face and cracked open on a loose hinge, splitting its head into a mass of odorous yellow fangs. It had four eyes, black marbles stuck into wrinkled puckers across its forehead like an insect. Long, straggly almost human-like hair tumbled down from its age spotted scalp and there was a hoard of lice pitching and swinging between each strand like parasitic acrobats.

Cove shuddered and drew back to hiding behind the nearest boulder of ice. There was no way he could try to fight the thing, so how was he going to escape?

He didn’t have any weapons either, oh how he longed for the dual pistols that Fletch carried right about now.

Cove looked wildly about to try and spot something that he could use. His eyes alighted on the sharp stalactite icicles adorning the roof of the cave. There was a particularly nasty looking cluster above the feasting yeti but they appeared to be pretty firmly attached. Cove couldn’t think of any way to dislodge them.

The yeti paused his munching for a moment and looked up. Cove held his breath, surely it wasn’t a mind reader? However, an instant later the beast let out an ungodly burp that rippled through the cave in waves of noxious stench.

Cove gagged and reeled backwards, trying to get as far away from the creature as possible. He thought he was going to pass out when he heard a loud cracking sound beneath his feet.

Cove gasped, trembling and looked down. He had managed to walk onto a patch of thin ice that had now fractured like a smashed plate.

“Don’t move,” Cove whispered to himself, “don’t mo-“ he screamed as the ice gave way and he disappeared underground. Cove’s spine crunched painfully against the ice chute he was hurtling down. He could hear himself wailing as he hurtled at breakneck speed around an icy bend and smashed into a mountain of snow.

By the time Cove had regained his breath and drawn his face back the snow in front of him was flecked with blood. Sure enough, when he reached to feel his face there were warm spurts dribbling from his nose.

“Damn,” Cove swore as his eyes teared up from the sharp pain. He staggered backwards and looked around the cave system. He must have fallen into the belly of a frozen cloud and had no idea what to do now. He wondered if the yeti was going to follow him?

Cove followed the icy tunnels for about an hour before slumping miserably down in a slightly wider cavern. His belly was aching from hunger and eating snow was doing little to sate his thirst.

The worst thing was the cold though, Cove could feel it deep inside his bones, rattling them with a wintry chill that he couldn’t seem to warm up from no matter how hard or fast he walked or pulled his furs around him.

“I don’t want to die like this,” Cove whispered miserably when he heard a noise. Evidently the universe had heard and was granting his wish, twisted fucker that it was.

The yeti had found him.

Cove scrambled along the tunnel with the monster in hot pursuit. Every time he chanced a look backwards it seemed to be gaining on him, it would be only a few more moments now before those blackened nails were at his throat.

Cove wheeled round the corner and let out a grim laugh as he realised the last thing he would see before he died was going to be a hallucination of Drift.

The other boy was standing square in the middle of the tunnel, his blue hair pushed back from his sweating face. Drift’s jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed as he held his arm straight in front of him, his hand tight on the trigger of one of Fletch’s twin pistols.

Oh well, Cove groaned, at least the hallucination was easy on the eyes, not that he would ever have admitted it to the real Drift.

Suddenly, a shot rang out in the tunnel, bouncing off the walls with resonating echoes that caused Cove to let out a shocked yelp and launch himself into the hallucination’s arms.

Only, the arms were strong and hot and very much real as they gripped round Cove’s middle and hauled him up off the floor into a strong carry hold.

“Drift!” Cove exclaimed, blinking furiously. He didn’t understand how this was possible. He flinched as Drift’s finger pulled down again on the trigger and fired another bullet into the Yeti’s skull, grey brain matter exploding onto the ice.

“Drift?” Cove asked wide eyed as the larger boy set him back down gently. “How? How are you here?”

“The compass,” Drift replied, his voice low and hoarse. “You’ve got the other companion compass. I followed the blue needle to find you.”

Cove gasped as he pushed his fingers into his pocket and felt the hard shape of the compass he had placed there days ago and forgotten about.

Drift held up his right hand to show the partner compass, the blue needle almost vibrating through the glass as it jabbed towards Cove.

“Took nearly all night though,” Drift growled, “you wouldn’t stop fucking moving.”