"Let's go," Grady muttered, limping across the room. "The sleigh's already by the back door."

We followed, me with my bow and quiver, and the four of us smelling of star anise. It was silly to think we could defeat winter easier than Faust's men, a fact that ripped the breath from my lungs as soon as Grady opened the back door. Wind and snow battered my face. Cold seeped into my thick coat within seconds and drilled into my bones. I threw my hood up, retrieved the wool gloves ...