Page 241 of Season Warriors & Wolves

White Pawn to B3

Snowlin

My back was against something cold and hard. Everything ached and I was sure I could not even move my tongue that had settled so uncomfortably against the roof of my dry mouth.

A sound reverberated around me.

My sound. A groan when I tried to shift where I laid.

As I was trying to crack an eye open, a gentle hand rested on my forehead.

“The temperature has gone down,” a much too motherly voice announced. “Well done, my daughter. You’ve outdone every Maiden and Crafter before you.”

“I’ll hang the trophy over my grave for you, mother,” another commented boredly.

“Snow?” a small voice whispered near my ear. “Visha! She’s awake!”

Gods. I cracked my eyes open and glared at the little carrot who had but all screamed inside my ear.

The little red head grinned. “And she is feeling exceptionally well.” She pointed at me, jumping up and down excitedly. “Look, she is angry already.”

What?

Why was I dreaming this?

I stared at the ceiling I’d stared for almost thirteen years and waited for the dream to fade me some place else. Some place with him.

But the dream did not fade. And hard arms lifted me from where I laid, cradling me. A bearded face pressed to my own, his tears wetting my cheeks. “Oh, kid, my kid.”

Hells were warm apparently, not hot, and they were cruel. This was cruel. So, so cruel.

I swallowed. “Alaric?”

“Shhh. All is well. All is well. I am here.”

Hot tears slipped from my aching eyes. “You are?”

His whole body trembled against mine, shaking with violent sobs. “I am.”

My sister and Nia too loomed over me, hugging each other and then launched on me, crying on my shoulders and holding me tightly. So tightly. Too tightly because I coughed.

What?

What was happening?

I reached a hand up and weaved my fingers through Nia’s all too real looking curls. And my hand jerked back as if I’d pressed it against scorching embers. “Tell me something only Nia Drava would know about me.”

My friend wiped her tears and said, “You stole Alaric’s tobacco pipe one night and stuffed it with grass because you bet with Cai that he ‘would never even tell the bloody difference’. You blamed it on that errand boy that kept selling him tobacco. It worked because he quit for about three months.”

Alaric shot to his feet. “That was her? It was grass? You let me smoke grass?”

It was like all life had returned to my body and I sat up, looking around.

If I was still alive—

Ignoring all pleas and shouts and whatever they were all saying, I stood and ran along my castle corridors, hurriedly opening door after door, panic crawling up my throat as did relentless fear, until—

A sob raked my chest. So painfully I had to clutch it with a hand to lessen the ache.