Page 162 of Season Warriors & Wolves

Sweet tongued bastard.

Nia looked at Snow who had stopped before a vase filled with snow drops—the new nightmare that was chasing her lately. “This could save many lives, Kilian. Not all volunteered for this war. So many were forced. Snow knows it. She just has a hard time understanding that some people do deserve saving.”

“To hells with saving.”

“Cai,” Nia pleaded.

“We’re fighting for survival. Survival, Nia. Saving comes later. If we even survive this thing. The odds are not looking much in our favour. Like Kilian said, we have the anima accissor. The potion or medicine you are making is not our priority, only a backup in case we fail to come up with any other way to stop Melanthe. Stop thinking of this as a way to cure the sickness, more of a way to kill it. Perhaps it will come faster to you.”

“Because I learned to do this to kill?”

“No, because it is easier to kill than to heal. The world has come up with more ways to kill than heal. It has to be a tell.”

“He is right,” Kilian said.

“What a joy.”

His eyes darkened. “Will be the day that you stop exis—”

Snow wrapped her arms around him and he stopped his sentence, glaring at me.

It was becoming more difficult by the day to be ungrateful to him. He was who I was most grateful to. He didn’t help only Snow, he helped Nia, he helped my people, he helped Alaric through his grief when I didn’t know how. Shame he was such a piece of work.

“Why are you smiling like that for?” Nia asked, nudging my foot. “You look a bit mad. Stop it.”

I grabbed Snow’s hand and dragged her outside. Thankfully, Kilian knew not to follow. Her pitter patter steps chased rapidly after me, hurrying to catch my pace. Once we stood at the roof of the castle, I let her go and she took one deep breath.

“Why did I catch Visha lurking around Myrdur ruins last night?” I asked.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t keep her on a leash at night.”

“She can hear their calls. It’s how she came to Taren in the first place.”

She pointed a finger to her head. “I’m sure she hears many things.”

“The mist, Snow.”

“And?”

So, she knew. “Why is she out there having full blown conversations with condensation?” I caught her finger before she pointed it to her head again. We both knew the only crazy one among us was her, not Visha. “Spit it out.”

“Cannot. It’s a secret.”

“Oh?”

Miss Madness closed her eyes and nodded. “Mhm.”

“In relation to what or who?”

“Me. Remember that galanthus crap?”

“Yeah. How does this correlate?”

“Apparently, the mist sends out the same sort of magical signals as the flowers. Visha thinks that is how my ancestors have managed to turn themselves into it, why it acts as protection for our kingdom and why it has never been absorbed by the earth below. It might not be the only I who has or had this…ability. More like a trait.”

“Why does this matter to begin with?”

The moment she gave that sneaky, wicked smile I knew she would not tell me. “That’s the secret.”