The Ruin of Snow

by Lacy Sheridan

  “Do you want me to go with you, in case you run into trouble?” Rayick offered.

  “No, thank you. I’ll be alright.” I paused,. “Thank you, for letting me stay. And for last night, Rayick.”

  He nodded, a proud gentleman, and I got a pair of soft goodbyes as I headed out the way we had come in, stopping to don my cloak. Outside, the pale sun glinted off frost coating every surface, changing the forest from the shadowy ocean it had been the night previous into a field of diamonds. I started in a random direction, noting the way, and searched for any sign of life. I went slow, enjoying the glittering scenery, studying the sparse winter-thriving plants. My education in magic had focused on the use of plants, though anything natural held the potential for power, and I knew of several that could be found in the winter. I hoped I’d be lucky enough to find them here.

  I’d been searching for near an hour when a faint, light patter of footsteps got my attention. I saw a fox, auburn coat puffed against the cold, standing watch on a rocky rise a few yards away. It stood calmly, alert but not surprised or skittish, so I ventured a guess. “Idris?”

  He dipped his head in confirmation, and I continued. He kept pace, never coming closer, sometimes veering a bit further to avoid deeper mounds of snow. I paused to study an evergreen tree, debating whether it might help me. “Do I call for protection from the wild or for yourselves?” I asked. He let out an amused little huff I interpreted to mean a bit of both.

  “You must fear witches, for the leader of the cursed cave-people to come watch over me.”

  Another huff that might have been a sarcastic laugh.

  “Do you by any chance know if holly grows here?” I asked, inspecting a bush. His ears perked with interest, and I added, “I doubt it would help break your curse. But if your food stores are running low enough, plenty of forest animals eat the fruit.”

  I got a flick of his tail and a roll of his eyes in response. He started walking, and I couldn’t stop a quiet laugh.

  “You’re terrible at acting like a real fox.”

  “I know you’re noble.”

  Idris said it as we stepped into the shadow of the tunnels, me with a few new plants tucked in my bag and an apple in one hand, him barely upright after the fur had rippled into nothing, like water running off his skin. He turned his sharp gaze on me, waiting.

  Though the timing was sudden, the comment itself didn’t surprise me. None of the others had pointed it out, if they had bothered to think about it at all, but it was something he wouldn’t miss. My cloak and dress were limp and dirty, but they were unmistakably fine of make. I bit into my apple and watched him, waiting.

  He leaned against the stone-and-dirt wall, folding his arms across his chest. “I grew up in Acalta. I’m not sure any of the others have spent much time there, but I did. Not in the noble squares, but I saw them from a distance.”

  I chewed as I considered my response. “I never said I wasn’t noble.”

  “What is a noblewoman doing out here?”

  “As I told Rayick and Tamsin, I’m looking for something.”

  “Looking for what?”

  Answers. A plan. An escape. A home. None of it here, of course—this was a temporary stop. “Weren’t you ever taught not to pry into a lady’s thoughts?” I asked, looking at his tall build from beneath my lashes.

  Guilt flashed in his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I know all too well there are things not everybody has the right to ask. But these people are my family, and if there’s a danger to them—”

  “I’m not a danger to them,” I cut him off. “I have no interest in hurting any of you. You helped me, and I’m grateful.” That much was the truth.

  Idris cocked his head, studying me like he was putting something together. For the first time in a while, my feet itched to retreat. I forced them to hold still. “Are you looking for something, or is something—someone—looking for you?” he asked.

  Again, I let the mask slip a tiny bit. Let a hint of the weapon show through in my sickly-sweet smile. “Maybe both.”

  “The storm, the day before they found you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Magic. Yes.” I hid the wince that tried to escape at the thought. At my sister’s words, as cold and sharp as the needles of ice she’d driven at me. At the blinding power that had surged from me without my control. No trace of it since the wolf attack, and I couldn’t stop wondering what it meant.

  “It was…angry.” Again, not a question.

  I deemed not to answer this time, turning deeper into the tunnels. “It wasn’t anger in that magic, Idris,” I corrected him. “It was pure, cold intent to kill. Nothing more and nothing less.”

  He followed me. “Yours, or someone else’s?”

  “No one who will follow me here, I promise you.” He could interpret that how he would.

  “Neyva.” He overtook me in two quick steps, agile as the form he took in the sunlight. I couldn’t keep from bristling the slightest amount, but he didn’t touch me. His brow furrowed. “What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “No trouble at all, of course. I’m noble. We don’t get into trouble.”

  “Fine, then. I won’t ask for details. But answer three questions for me.”

  I lifted my chin. “Ask them, and I’ll decide whether I want to answer.”

  He searched my face. “Did you run from Acalta?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Is somebody after you for running?”

  “Most likely, yes.”

  “Will they kill you if they catch you?”

  “If I won’t go with them.”

  “Will you?”

  “You said three questions, Idris.” I ducked past him and took another bite of my apple. “Thank you for keeping me company out there, but the next time I’d prefer to go by myself. I like to be alone with the wind and my thoughts.”

  He let me go another few steps, then stopped me with a little sigh. “There’s somebody you should meet.”

  I blinked and didn’t look at him. “Who?”

  “Someone better than whoever’s after you, I can tell you that.” I looked at him then, and he inclined his head toward one of the forks in the tunnels. “This way.”

  I could have ignored him, but my upbringing had beaten that inclination out of me. He was my host, even if this was little more than another short-lived game, and to refuse a direct request from him would put my position in jeopardy. I followed.

  Down, through the winding, dim tunnels and caves. Some appeared to be set aside like bedrooms, but I didn’t look closely at any of them. Idris knew the layout they’d created intimately; he navigated with ease, the only sounds our echoing footsteps. We stopped at a bedroom-hollow around a sharp curve.

  Two lanterns lit the room, one perched atop a stump that functioned as a table while the other hung from a roughly-made hook in the wall. A bedroll and a few extra furs were against one wall. A handful of glass jars were stacked nearby. Sitting beneath the hanging lantern, a plain brown book propped against one bent knee, was a boy.

  No, not a boy. Older than Tamsin. But young, and the way he sat, head bent over his book—there was something vulnerable that made me lower my voice and step carefully as we approached.

  “How many of you are there?” I asked Idris under my breath.

  “Seven.” He stopped in the opening and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Kye.”

  He got a bland, “Yes?” in response.

  “This is Neyva. The one Rayick and Tam found. She’ll be staying with us,” Idris said.

  “Lovely.” He didn’t look up from his book, brow creasing as he scratched something out with a pen. I took the opportunity to study him. Built like a young warrior, slender but strong, broad-shouldered. Where his shirtsleeves were rolled up, I caught sight of twisting knots and diamonds, traditionally inked on the skin of Northern child-warriors, dark blue against sun-kissed gold fading with winter. We weren’t far enough North for
those tattoos; at home the crowds would whisper behind their fans at the sight of them, scandalized by the idea of such barbarism among civilized men. He was far from home. His earthy-brown hair was long, falling past his shoulders, a section tied out of his face. A few strands escaped, too short to be held back. When he lifted one hand to push them away, I saw that the last section of his little finger was missing, leaving a badly-healed nub.

  Child-warrior indeed.

  Idris huffed. “She’ll also be breaking our curse, if she gets everything she needs, so you’d do well to, at the very least, give her a polite greeting.”

  Kye blinked and raised his head at last. One of those loose pieces of hair slanted across eyes the color of honey. Asymmetrical dark rings around the edges, one thinner than the other. Long lashes two shades darker than they should have been. A face that was all cheekbones and jawline. Tulia would have been beside herself with excitement for a chance to paint him.

  He shook the hair away with a slight, practiced toss of his head. “You’re going to break the curse?”

  The subtle emphasis on you’re irked me, but my expression remained neutral. Their underestimating me was a good thing. A Morningspell woman was always to be underestimated: it meant we could do our work more easily. Confidence was the key to the illusion—never underestimate yourself. “I’m going to break the curse,” I said.

  “What’s your payment?”

  “Shelter. Safety.”

  “Protection?” he guessed.

  “I can protect myself.”

  “Mostly,” Idris added with a wry smile. “As long as there are no starving wolves around.”

  I fought the urge to shoot a retort and instead watched Kye. He didn’t indicate that he was ready to bolt the second I got closer, or ready to tear my throat out at the first sign of danger, so I supposed that was an improvement over Tamsin or Aurynn. The warm, welcoming air of Rayick and Enaelle wasn’t there, either. He wasn’t cautious—he was far too casual for that—but he was curious. Feeling for what to think in the same way I was.

  Beyond that, I saw no reason Idris would say I should meet him. Not right now. If he wanted me to meet all his people, there were far more natural ways to go about it, not insisting I go with him.

  “I hate to sound rude, and I’m sure you’re a lovely person, Kye, but Idris—why exactly must we meet now?”

  “Ah.” Idris strode in and gestured for me to take a seat on the stump. I perched on the edge, ensuring I didn’t bump the lantern. Kye watched, eyes flicking from Idris to me. “I feel you two have something in common.”

  Kye’s attention remained on me as he spoke, though his words were directed at Idris. I met those strange golden eyes’ stare. “And what’s that?”

  “Neyva?”

  I tore my gaze to Idris, holding my curiosity sealed to think. He’d insisted I meet Kye as soon as he’d learned I’d run—that somebody was after me. I did another scan of Kye, taking him in. He didn’t resemble a criminal—but then, neither did I.

  “Somebody wants me dead,” I said, keeping my voice flat. No fear, no pain, no worry. No doubt over whether I could handle it. I could. There was no other option.

  He raised one eyebrow. “Who?”

  “That’s something best left to myself.”

  He leaned forward, eyes raking . They sent a chill through me, one I couldn’t understand. “Your accent, the clothes—Acalta?” I nodded, stiff. “They don’t like witches there.”

  “They don’t like witches in many places.” Certainly not anywhere in Selliira. I almost pointed out that the country we stood in was far harsher to witches than the North, but I held my tongue. He hadn’t mentioned what those tattoos and scars meant, and neither would I.

  A grim smile pulled at his lips, but he looked to Idris. “What is this about, exactly?”

  “I thought it would be helpful for Neyva to meet all of us,” Idris replied.

  Kye didn’t blink. “Idris. What grand scheme do you have in mind this time?”

  The fox’s calm didn’t crack, but a gleam shone in his blue eyes. “Given your history, Kye, I expected you’d put it together. Neyva has agreed to break the curse.” I confirmed this with a nod, eyes on Kye. “All she’s asked in exchange is to use our shelter.”

  “That seems fair,” Kye muttered.

  “I don’t want to pose this to the others—not yet.” His gaze switched from Kye to me, and I folded my hands in my lap. “If you can break our curse, we’d be more grateful than shelter can say. Or I would be. And I’d be more than willing to help persuade whoever is after you to stop, in whatever way that needs to happen.”

  I blinked in surprise. That was not an offer I had expected, even after reading Idris’s desire to help where he could. It had crossed my mind, of course—using them not only for shelter but to turn against my family—but I’d never imagined it would be offered so freely. So quickly and easily. “I couldn’t ask that.”

  Idris smiled. “We’re more capable than you’d think, and it would be a fair payment. You save us, we save you.”

  Part of me wanted to tell him that I didn’t need saving, but I ignored it and watched Kye. He knew; he studied me again and asked, “Who is it we’d be persuading to stop?”

  If they were going to help me, they needed to be prepared. Not for everything, but for enough. They needed to know there weren’t guards coming to haul me to trial for some petty crime. It was fair, if I was going to allow them to do this, to give them a shot at surviving. Even if it was a slim one.

  I drew a breath, “The finest hunters in Acalta. Maybe in Selliira.”

  Kye gave a slow, solemn nod of understanding that made my attention flick to those child-warrior marks inked on his arms. “I’ll find a way to stop them.”

  Thirteen

  Supper was a chaotic affair I’d missed on my first night; the seven of us gathered around the fire in the main cave, passing food and drink, chatting, laughing. Tamsin wore his cloak, hood up, like he was prepared to bolt into the coming night, but managed a reluctant, wry smile at Aurynn’s teasing comments. Enaelle ensured everybody got a share of the stew, though she stuck her tongue out at Rayick when he told her they were far too old to be treated like starving children. Idris watched with a faint, fond smile, and Kye ate without looking from his book. I’d met six of the seven curse victims, and there was a mutual agreement that the seventh—Wesley, I’d gathered his name was—would appear when he was ready, and there was every chance he was roaming the forest on his own and had no idea I existed.

  “The stew is lovely, Enaelle,” I said when she settled into a seat next to me. It was a bland, but it was hot and filling and withheld the creeping chill from outside. She beamed at me.

  “Don’t mind them,” she said when she caught me watching the quickfire back-and-forth between Rayick and Aurynn. “We’ve known each other a long time, and living like this makes it feel like longer.”

  “How long?”

  Rayick shot a comment about Aurynn’s inability to cook, earning a laugh from Idris. Aurynn smacked his arm. “I’ve known Wesley since we were children, when my family came to Selliira. Aurynn and Idris have known each other as long, as I think. Rayick and Idris met some years ago. Kye and Tamsin are the newest—they each found us two or three years ago. Three, I think, for Tamsin.”

  Making Kye the newest addition to the group, and yet the one Idris had trusted with his idea. My gaze wandered over him. If he noticed, he gave no sign.

  I tore my attention to Tamsin. “Tamsin has been with you for three years?” I asked. She nodded. “How old is he?”

  “Seventeen now, I think—is it past Silvernight?” I nodded. “Then yes, seventeen. His birthday was before it.”

  Fourteen when he’d joined them, whatever they were.

  “How long have you been here?”

  Enaelle’s little smile was sad. “Just over a year. We were cursed in the autumn.”

  “How?”

  “A long, terrible story y
ou wouldn’t want to hear.”

  I gave her a deliberate look. “If I’m going to break your curse, I need to know the details. It will help me sort out what magic to use, what magic will work to counteract it.”

  She didn’t question that, but she glanced to the others and shook her head. “It’s not only my story to tell. But I’ll tell you my part of it. Not here, though.” Another smile and she gestured toward my bowl. “Eat. Rest.”

  I did, eating mindfully and watching. Aurynn leaned over to Kye, craning her neck. “Is whatever you’re writing more interesting than us?”

  His attention didn’t waver. “Typically, yes.” But it was said with a ghost of a smile.

  “How rude. At least let me see it.”

  “No.”

  “Give it up, Aurynn,” Rayick said with a laugh. “You’ve been trying for two years and haven’t gotten anywhere.”

  “Yet,” she grumbled, and craned her neck again. Kye expertly tilted the book from view.

  Idris smirked. “As if you could read it, Aurynn.”

  “I can read!”

  “Read the mysterious thoughts running around Kye’s head that are deemed important enough to write down?” Kye gave Idris a long, searing glare that made the latter laugh. “You look like I insulted you.”

  “I’m trying to decide if you have,” he said.

  “Oh, Kye, when I insult you, you’ll know.”

  “And when I repay the favor, you’ll know,” he replied in a tone that indicated it would not be in words.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and all eyes turned on me. Rayick smiled, and Idris’s lips twitched. Aurynn smirked. Tamsin watched like I was about to eat him, while Kye peered from beneath a rogue strand of hair, gave a barely-there shake of his head, and returned to his book.

  “Maybe she isn’t full princess,” Aurynn muttered, something akin to appreciation in her eyes.

  Idris sealed eyes with me over her shoulder. “Princess or not, she’s not bad.”

  Rayick broke the seriousness in the comment with a dramatic eye roll and called across the fire, “Don’t go falling for the first girl you see in a year, Idris. I think she’s too young for you, anyway.”