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I root around for some stems and leaves to make a relaxation tonic and toss them in the warm water. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t do sleepovers.”
I hear him huff and the rustling of clothes as he gets dressed. I keep my naked back to him and don’t turn to face my bed until I hear the door close.
Chapter 5
Viola
Iwakewithastart as if someone trailed their fingers down my arms. Of course, no one is there, but I cannot shake the feeling that someone was. I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes as they adjust to the room’s darkness. It must be well past midnight. I stumble over to the makeshift kitchen and get a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter. Looking out the window at the ethereal glow cast by the moon on my homeland, I steel myself for what I know I am about to do, even if it is against my better judgment.
I have been thinking for a while that I need to give myself a leg up in the Race. I was unsure what it would be, but Max gave me an idea yesterday. Fortuitously, I am awake in the middle of the night while the rest of the Lowlanders sleep. My choice is easy.
I have to rob Jaz.
I need that leg up, and besides, Jaz is already injured and will not be able to win anyway.
At least, that’s how I’m going to justify it to myself.
I pull on my boots and search for my blade, freshly sharpened by the whetstone I traded to Max. I have no idea how long I slept after I kicked Amio out. I spent the rest of my waking hours internally talking myself out of what I was about to do before falling into a fitful slumber. Being woken up in the middle of the night like this feels like a sign.
I slip out my front door, carefully closing it so as not to make noise and garner attention. The homes in the Lowlands are not particularly well built or far apart, so stealth will be critical if I am to be successful. I swiftly make it to Jaz’s home and peer through the window at their sleeping form. The moonlight casts a magical glow on their peach skin, and I am struck by just how awful what I am about to do is. Jaz has always been on my side. We grew up in the same pod. Despite being much older than Max and I, Jaz always treated us like their little sisters. I am a monster for even considering this, much less doing it.
But still, I progress.
Circling around the home, I look for the easiest point of entry. Since their attack, Jaz has boosted the security of their house quite a bit. The front and back doors are clearly braced from the inside, and the windows appear sealed. This is going to be more challenging than I thought.
My shadow grows long as the moon continues its journey across the sky, and I still have not moved from my spot by Jaz’s window. I have to get moving if I am going to get this done before first light and get a little more sleep tonight. Steeling myself, I turn to the window that seems to be the path of least resistance, a large one in front of a table in the home’s sitting room. The window wiggles at my touch and appears to be less braced than the others. I run my knife under the edge of it, pushing against the resistance the frame creates to break into the home. Sliding it around the corners of the loose window, I cut through the rope, securing it. It felt suspiciously simple.
What sounds like someone stumbling reaches my ears from my right. I freeze, trying my hardest not to attract attention. It may just be a stray animal, but my gut tells me that is not the case. If I have learned anything, it is to trust a gut feeling.
I see a shadow, long and nondescript, around a corner a few houses down. Shit. If I can see their shadow, they can see mine. I begin to rack my brain for how I will conceal myself. I frantically try to find a place to hide, and I see a wheelbarrow a few paces away in Jaz’s yard, which will have to do. Carefully sliding my knife from the window frame, I slip to the wheelbarrow and crouch behind it. My worry about my shadow quickly fades as a thick cloud drifts across the sky in front of the moon, and shadows descend upon me. Still, I do not want to move and risk being heard. I stay still as I hear the footsteps of the shadowed person come closer.
My chest burns with the breath I’m holding despite the darkness that envelopes me and provides a measure of cover. It wraps around my arms and legs, plunging me deeply into the night. There is comfort in the shadows, and the longer I spend embraced by them, the easier breathing becomes.
The person approaching stops, and I can see the outline of their head turning and looking around. The figure is much taller than I thought they would be, and they seem to be looking for something. I close my eyes and will them to pass me by and not notice me.
I do not have it in me to fight someone tonight.
After what feels like a torturously long time, but really is only a few seconds, the figure moves on. I hear their steps retreating more than I see them, but I track them all the same. They continue past Jaz’s house, and I watch the barely visible form disappear in the distance, releasing my breath shakily.
Another traveler must’ve been taken to bed by a local tonight. I, of course, am not surprised as I did the same. I am surprised that the traveler is sneaking out in the middle of the night, though. I saw no sign that they were attempting to rob someone, either.
While pre-Race robberies are not unheard of, they have never occurred regularly. Since Dalery is so tiny, everyone here knows one another, which makes it harder to betray someone in this way.
That near miss makes me question what I am here to do. Is this really who I have become? Robbing someone I know to get a leg up over them?
As I ask myself that, I, unfortunately, know the answer already. Yeah, this is who I am. This is what I have trained for my entire life to be - someone who puts winning the Race above all else. My parents leaving me behind would have cemented it even if I had not been raised this way. Now is not the time for morality.
Under the cover of the deep night, I slip back to the window I released from its guarding earlier. Palms flat on the glass, I slide it quietly up. It moves without resistance and silently, thank Gods. Heaving myself through it, I am grateful the room has been plunged into darkness with the rolling clouds. I may not be able to do this if I have to see Jaz sleeping peacefully a second time. My eyes adjust quickly to the darkness, allowing me to spot a pack leaning against a wall.
On gentle feet, I make my way to the pack, dropping to my knees when I reach it. Reaching gently into the pack, I pull out an unassuming string with feathers tied through it, knots all down its length. It sparks to life in my hands, a soft humming reaching through my fingertips.
A Witch’s Ladder.
I’ve never seen one before, but I heard about them from my parents. Each feather and knot is said to hold a powerful spell imparted by a Winter wielder. Experienced Winter magic is known for its ability to curse anyone, especially those who break deals with them. In addition to the more common traits of snow and ice, Winter magic includes command over shadows and the night, and children in the village used to whisper stories about Winter Seasonale stealing your blood to control you.
I marvel at the age of this item. From what I’ve heard, there has not been a Winter Seasonale in centuries.
This must be why Jaz was attacked, and they just told Max a lie about the meat. How did Jaz come into possession of such a thing? Running my fingers down the string, I feel spots where knots clearly used to be tied. It must be a family heirloom used by Jaz’s ancestors to help them in the Race. They must have paid a fortune from one of the last Winter Seasonale.
