Page 53 of The Blight of Hollowmire

Outside, the mountain has been remade beneath a fresh canvas of snow. The air is sharp with cold, made worse by breezes that shear through the passageways and send muffled whumpfs of snow falling from overburdened pine boughs.

There are tracks from the pack of wolves, but no sign of them today. It seems they’ve returned to the thicker forest below the cave mouth after being drawn in by Vireth’s magic—or her transformation.

We pick our way down the path carefully. The treacherous snow hides stones both jagged and loose, making for slow going. Twice I offer my hand to Vireth over the worst stretches, and both times she ignores me. The third time she slips—nearly tumbling over the precarious side of the mountain slope—she catches my forearm with a sharp inhale.

Her fingers grip my arm hard enough to bruise my flesh through the layers of my clothing.

Heart thudding from the thought of what might have been, I steady her until she regains her footing. “Are you hurt?”

She grunts. “Simply my pride. You don’t need to look quite so pleased with yourself.”

“I’m not!” I’m careful to school my expression in chivalrous neutrality.

“You are!”

She releases me and moves ahead with great dignity, which is somewhat undermined by Nibblebones skittering after her with what looks suspiciously like a human rib bone in her mouth.

“No,” she tells her corpse weasel without turning around. “Leave it with the dead, little one.”

Nibblebones freezes, her gaze imploring.

“No,” Vireth insists, her hands on her hips. The rib drops into the snow, and the corpse weasel makes a forlorn sound that tugs at my heartstrings.

“It is always difficult to be denied what one loves,” I offer the little creature.

Vireth looks over her shoulder. “Do not encourage her, or she will have us carting sacks of skulls down the mountainside. Trust me, that is not a trade good we want to offend the villagers with should we stumble upon any inhabitants between here and our destination.”

“I am merely offering sympathy. She has suffered disappointment.”

Nibblebones squeaks in acknowledgement and climbs atop my shoulder. Magnar nickers with ill-disguised jealousy.

“So have I, yet no one lets me carry human bones about,” Vireth mutters.

“I suspect you could if you truly wished.”

Her mouth twitches before she turns away, and the triumph warms me like a first-time champion in a joust.

It becomes plain that the antlers trouble her as we continue our descent down the back side of the mountain. She rolls her neck every few minutes, reaching up to rub at the angry red scalp skin that surrounds them. Every now and then, she sucks in a breath that’s laced with suffering, until I can bear it no longer.

When we reach a frozen stream that cuts through the valley, she stops to study her reflection in the icy water. She pushes her hood back and I grimace at the state of her—her hair has tangled badly in the night, woven through with pine needles and bits of dirt. One silky lock of hair is wound around the base of the left antler, and the skin there looks raw, though no longer bleeding.

She looks tired, exasperated, and rather upset. Cold enough that her nose has gone faintly pink at the tip. Unfortunately, none of that makes her less beautiful.

“I look horrifying,” she growls. “A right mess.”

“I don’t know about that. You do look cold, though.”

“Renard.” Her eyes narrow, much of her good humor and curiosity having fled with subsequent nights of poor rest, poorer food, and even poorer company.

Before I can stop myself, I crouch beside my pack and search through my supplies until I find a small comb tucked near the spare bandages. Vireth eyes it—and me—with deep suspicion.

“What are you doing?”

I blow out a breath and beckon her closer. “Nothing untoward, Lady Fae. Simply hoping to set a bit of your discomfort at ease.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she shoots back, trying and failing to disentangle her locks from the knots they’ve tightened into.

“Vireth, you’ve saved my life several times over now. Please allow me to help you. Come here.”