The Ruin of Snow

by Lacy Sheridan

  “Not stalling,” she answered. “Just…waiting.”

  Her eyes flicked over my shoulder. A warning. I braced for an attack, magic coiling and snarling, and then something snatched at my wrist from behind. It struck my shields and shattered them. I bracketed my footing and points cracked and pricked against my skin, then yanked me backward. My shoulder protested and my feet slid.

  Then I was rolling, snow filling my eyes and mouth. My senses blurred into flashing white and crackling twigs and ice. I snatched onto whatever my fingers found until something held, and spit snow as I clawed my way upright. Whatever had grabbed onto me had gone, leaving a series of tiny, shallow scratches across my wrist. Sarafine was nowhere in sight, but I knew the area well enough to see I’d travelled five or six yards. I slid into the stance Kye had taught me—weight on my toes, knees bent, ready to fight or run—and waited.

  “I hate to tell you that scratches aren’t likely to kill me, Sarafine,” I called, voice shattering the silence. I got no response, so I listened and tasted the air, letting my magic drift in a wide circle.

  It snarled against hers and prowled around it, tensed and waiting. Hers was—searching? For what?

  I didn’t waste time building defenses for her to crash again; Sarafine could be vicious and relentless when she’d decided on a kill, like a dog with a bone. Wearing her down wasn’t going to save me. I had to strike sure and fast.

  Strike with what?

  And I had to find her first.

  I darted to the side, glad for the stirred snow that muffled my movements, and let my magic do the work, slipping in and out of Sarafine’s, searching for where she’d gone. It would be difficult to hide from her for long, but if I kept moving I had a chance. I hoped.

  Lady, be good to me.

  There. Away from the tunnels—one good thing, at least—and not moving, though something swirled around her like a storm. A deeper, sharper magic than what was hunting me. Something I could worry about when I got there; I didn’t have much of a choice. I veered around a cluster of trees to circle toward her, feet flying. I wasn’t as fast as Kye, but I could outrun her magic. I could.

  I felt her defenses nipping at me when movement shot from my periphery. Not the side it should have been coming from; I ducked, but it wasn’t my head it was aimed for. Her magic snaked around my ankle this time, and I swallowed a yelp as it twisted, dragging me to the ground again. I shoved myself up only to stumble, resistance tugging at my foot like I’d been caught in one of Aurynn’s traps.

  A snare of sorts, but not of rope. Of vine, creeping and tightening around my leg. My breath hitched.

  That was impossible. We could speak to the magic of plants, touch it or borrow it, but not…this. Not manipulate them. Witches held a natural affinity for the magic of the earth—this was a perversion of it.

  More were coming, trees waving, branches curling like claws.

  Adrenaline snapped the thoughts out of my head, and I kicked at the vine with my free leg, but it did nothing. Knife, Neyva. I snatched one of the knives from my belt and sawed at the vine, slicing through prickly winter-green leaves. My heart pounded in my raw fingertips

  I shoved the lingering tendrils away and bolted. The forest wasn’t this close together and never had been, but suddenly it was. Low-hanging branches knotted above my head and reached to me. They snagged in my hair and dress, snatched at my arms. I ignored the sting and persisted, shoving them off.

  My magic coiled in my chest, burning, but wouldn’t move. I pushed at it, but it ignored me.

  I ducked beneath a low branch, and it curled around me. Bark ground into my bare skin. I whipped my head aside to see a thin rope of bark winding around my wrist, holding me in place.

  Behind me, something ripped at my dress, clawing my back.

  Another tree moved closer from my other side, pinning me. I panted and yanked at the impossible holds, biting on the inside of my cheek when the bark scraped layers of skin from my arms. The branches pulled me into the air, my feet kicking at empty space.

  The trees were so close. Too close. I couldn’t draw a full breath, couldn’t do anything but tug at them like a chained prisoner. Roots crawled from the snow to tug at my legs.

  “The look on your face is priceless,” Sarafine said. The trees parted for her like for a god, pine needles brushing her hair.

  “This is sick,” I spat.

  “But effective.” She ran a loving hand along a branch. “I’m almost bored. This was so easy, Neyva. Where’s your magic? Your fight? I’m half tempted to let you go so you can try again.”

  A shadow prowled at the edges of my vision. “You’ve always enjoyed it too much, Sarafine.”

  “Enjoyed it?” She stepped forward with a laugh, and the roots on my leg hardened. Crept higher. I clenched my jaw. “Enjoyed getting rid of the useless? Of course I have. And I’m good at it, but who does Mother praise time and time again? You. The one who won’t acknowledge what she is!”

  Again, they squeezed. I gasped as they tore into the bare skin of my calf. My magic sat and waited.

  “Because I was better than you,” I managed.

  The shadow moved across a high branch, yellow-green eyes glinting in the sunlight. My gaze remained on my sister.

  “Who has who trapped like a fly in a web?” she asked.

  “You can be so sure of yourself when I’m dead.”

  Tamsin pounced. He launched in a blur of ruffled fur, claws raking through the gauzy sleeve of Sarafine’s dress. I heard her half-gasp a curse, and a yowl as he rolled through the trees out of sight. Branches surged after him.

  “Tamsin!”

  Sarafine pressed one hand to her forearm, but scratches raked down the length of it. “Was that your idea of a grand rescue?”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think. If Tamsin was hurt, it was his own fault, the idiot. I said to stay put, where it was safe. But he’d come after me. To help. And if something did happen to him…

  The roots and branches dug in and pulled. My joints screamed. Was that it? She was going to rip me limb from limb?

  I tugged and shoved at my magic, forcing everything I had toward it. Please. Now would be a lovely time to listen.

  Agony shot through my leg. A strangled sound slipped from me.

  No. No, no, this was not how I was going to die. Not in the cold, trapped and bleeding, at the hands of somebody like Sarafine. She was a good witch, and always had been, and she was three years ahead of me in experience. But I wasn’t going to lose to her.

  “How long do you think you can hang there, Neyva?” she asked. “A day? A week? It’s cold out here. Will your blood freeze before you die?”

  The metallic taste skittered across my tongue, but faded. The faint brush of its warmth lingered under my skin. My knives were out of reach.

  What will you give me for your life, child?

  That voice again. Maybe I was losing my mind.

  I answered it anyway. Not my heart.

  You’ll die here.

  Then I’ll die feeling something.

  It didn’t come again. I forced the thought away, forced my breathing to slow, forced myself to hang loose in the tightening bonds. Not to struggle or tense against the roots ripping at my leg and creeping higher. More poked at the toes of my free foot, like they were thinking about joining the others. Eat their way up until they tore into my chest and pulled my heart out.

  I listened to the forest, as twisted as it had become under Sarafine’s hand. I listened to the land struggling in her hold. I listened to my racing pulse. Achingly, slowly, the magic uncoiled. Stretched. I fought the instinct to urge it on. Whatever this was, whatever had awoken in me, it had its own mind. It would help me, but on its own terms.

  The wind picked up, a gentle breeze ruffling my hair. Something in the forest cracked and creaked. The magic wound its way along my veins, brushing over every wound, wrapping around its other half, the piece of me I understood, ready and waiting.

  I opened my ey
es to see Sarafine watching, eyes glittering with menace. So sure I was done fighting. I met her gaze.

  The magic struck.

  Branches splintered. Heat rippled from the ground, singeing my skin, and the trees holding me cracked and released. Ash and charred remains rained as I dropped to the ground, where the snow was melting from the flames whispering to life. Sarafine took half a step back, eyes racing.

  I didn’t waste time. I ignored the pain in my leg and darted for her, palming the knife in my sleeve. I got one swipe in and then she spun out of the way, drawing blood across her forearm. Roots struggled to grab at me, but the fire was spreading, catching quickly in the dense trap she’d made. I ducked around Sarafine’s arm as she found her knife, and knocked her leg out when her balance faltered. Sloppy, as mine had been before Kye’s fierce corrections.

  She caught herself on a branch and lunged forward. I slid from her, gritting my teeth against the shakiness of my wounded leg. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tamsin weaving through the chaos of undergrowth toward me.

  “Tamsin, get out!” I called and took another swipe at Sarafine’s legs. She stumbled, snatching at my dress.

  I cried out as my injured ankle buckled and we both fell. Something grazed my shoulder. I shoved my weight so Sarafine landed halfway beneath me, one arm pinned. The other clawed at my knife, her thin frame stronger than I’d given her credit for. Tamsin was racing for us. “Out, I said.”

  He ignored me and sank his teeth into Sarafine’s wrist. She knocked him into ground, but he held on, paws scrabbling in the snow. I pressed my blade to her pale throat, and her eyes widened. “I don’t want to kill my sister,” I said. “Walk away and this will be over. Do or say whatever you must to the others to ensure they don’t look for me, but I will end it one way or another. Your choice.”

  Her glare seared as much as the fire licking closer. My magic roared like a storm, urging the flames on. “We’ll both burn, then, sister,” she crooned.

  Tamsin dropped his hold. There was a flurry of movement in the flames. Not writhing plants burning up, but a snake. A lithe, jet-black snake shooting like an arrow. Tamsin leapt but wasn’t quick enough.

  Sarafine turned her head as the snake struck like lightning, fangs sinking into her arm. Her scream rang in my head. My knife faltered, my hand was knocked away, and the storm of magic was roiling around the snake, throwing it into the air.

  When it stilled, there was no snake, just a woman’s form, hazy in the smoke, a pile of dark curls in front of her face, unmoving.

  My head spun.

  A fist connected with my eye. Then Sarafine was scrambling up in my tilting vision. Tamsin lunged for her, catching the edge of her skirt in his teeth, but she kicked him off. My leg buckled beneath me as I tried to stand, so I sat. Listened to the death-song of the fire and let the pain and fury choke me. Maybe we would both burn here.

  Smoke stung my eyes. Branches crumbled above me. I couldn’t move. There was a tug at my sleeve, and I dragged my attention to Tamsin, eyes wide and frantic.

  We had to go. Some part of me understood that.

  Unless I wanted to burn, we had to go now. I bit my tongue as I forced my leg to work, forced the pain to the back of my mind, and Tamsin raced ahead of me through the fire, soaring over fallen and burning branches. I half-dragged myself into the snow at the edge of the ring my magic had created, falling into the blissful cold and sucking in clean, clear air. Tamsin collapsed beside me. I couldn’t tell where Sarafine had gone.

  We were silent, watching the raging, contained wildfire. With every breath I took it dimmed and settled, until a strange patch of blackened trees emerged from the smoke with a blanket of embers.

  Nobody came running.

  No Sarafine.

  No Enaelle, either.

  “We have to go get her,” I choked. Tamsin was stared. I couldn’t carry Enaelle under ideal circumstances, and I couldn’t now. “Why did you follow?”

  He gave me a long, lingering look I couldn’t decipher.

  “I told you to stay. If you had she—” I couldn’t finish. My throat closed, and I pushed myself upright, grinding the heels of my hands into my eyes.

  Tamsin let out a long breath and propped his head on my leg.

  Somewhere above, a bird’s call sounded. I looked at the soaring silhouette. Too high to see the golden feathers, but unmistakably Kye. I took one more steadying breath and hauled myself to my feet, bracing a hand against an uncharred tree. Tamsin followed.

  Kye swooped low, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “My sister was here,” I said in a rush. “I don’t know where she went.”

  A quick nod and then they were high above again, searching from a better vantage point. I made a slow circle but there was no sign of anybody else; we were alone. I struggled to catch my breath as we waited, listening for any sound, my exhausted, shaky magic probing. Nothing. The forest was as dead as ever.

  We couldn’t go back if Sarafine was following. I wouldn’t lead her straight to the others to kill. We stayed there, Tamsin pressed against my leg, until Kye circled back. They caught my eye and continued toward the tunnels. It was safe.

  Kye vanished ahead of us, and neither of us spoke as we made our way , me limping and hissing all the while. Blood and ash streaked Tamsin’s fur, but he didn’t look injured enough for his slow pace to be a necessity. He picked his way alongside me to keep close. For that much, I was grateful.

  As soon as he shifted, Tamsin caught my weight, easing me to the ground feet within the entrance. I gritted my teeth against the searing pain in my calf and managed a thank-you before he darted away, mumbling something about finding bandages. I inched my skirt up to inspect my bare leg. I couldn’t tell what was intact skin and what was torn open; there was nothing but a mess of blood.

  I tensed at the pounding footsteps that echoed through the tunnels, the frantic voices. Kye came into sight first, hissing a curse at the sight of my leg. Then came Idris, and Tamsin trailing behind him, the blood stark and bright against his flushed face. Seconds later, Aurynn was shoving past with a handful of cloths.

  My breath was too short, thin with pain, my pulse hammering. Their voices swam around me to mingle with the echoes of Sarafine’s, the tunnel too narrow. I closed my eyes and held out a hand for the cloth. Aurynn passed it.

  “Lady, what happened?” Rayick’s voice came as I pressed the makeshift bandages to my leg. I ignored him. Tamsin passed on some brief version of the story.

  Kye was the only one who stayed close, crouching beside me, but they didn’t speak. Didn’t touch me. As if they could tell the control it took to keep my hands steady, to keep myself breathing even. “You’ll be alright,” they said.

  I shook my head. My eyes stung. “Enaelle…”

  Wesley’s voice interrupted. “Where is she?” It wasn’t a demand; it was a growl. Sharp and deadly, unlike any sound I’d heard from him. I jumped, my pulse picking up more, and squeezed my eyes shut again. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t, I couldn’t watch the way it would sweep in and suck the light from his eyes.

  I couldn’t see it play in my mind again, even though it already was.

  “Wesley,” Idris started.

  “Where’s Enaelle? She’s supposed to be here.”

  Silence. Utter silence. I forced myself to look up. Tamsin avoided my gaze and rubbed a hand across his face and through his hair, smearing blood. Idris set his jaw and stared at the wall. Aurynn studied her boots. Rayick searched my face like some other answer would be hidden there. Even Kye didn’t look at me. Without either of us saying a word, everyone knew. Whether it was the way the curse tied them together or that they were smart enough to put the pieces together—they knew.

  Wesley knew, too. But he stepped back, shaking his head. “No. What happened?”

  “My sister,” I breathed. I couldn’t look away from him—eyes wide and dazed, chest heaving. “We tried to keep her away, but it happened so fast—I’m sorry, Wesley—”

  He di
dn’t let me finish. He didn’t speak; he turned and started walked, face shutting down. Void of anything. I braced one hand against the stone wall to push myself up but my injured leg buckled, and I fell again, sucking in a breath. Kye grabbed my elbow to steady me.

  “Sit,” they ordered. I did. “I’ll talk to him.”

  I grabbed their arm, hardly aware I was doing it. My fingers shook as they dug into the fabric of their sleeve, and half of me cursed my own body, my own weakness, but the other didn’t care anymore. I didn’t have words to ask—wasn’t sure what I wanted to ask—but they sat.

  Idris steepled his fingers, eyes closed, and blew out a long breath. To put away the shock and grief and step into the position he needed to be in. “Tamsin, are you hurt?”

  “Just scratches.”

  “Good. Good. Go…go get cleaned up. Rayick, help me bring her back. Aurynn, take care of her leg.”

  Tamsin stared into the tunnels. “What about Wesley?”

  “Leave him. If he needs to be alone, let him.”

  “But—”

  “She was his best friend, Tam,” Rayick cut in. “All their lives. He needs a little bit.”

  Tamsin’s throat bobbed and he nodded. I leaned my head against the wall and managed, my voice thick, “She was more than that.”

  I got silent, heavy stares, except for Idris, who nodded, grim, and murmured, “Let’s go, Rayick.” Then they were gone, Tamsin vanishing the other direction, and Aurynn bent over my leg to bind it. I didn’t have the energy to protest.

  “Is your sister…?” she asked.

  “Dead?” I supplied. She nodded. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Will she be coming back?”

  “Not right away.”

  The adrenaline appeared to be kicking in for the others as they saw the results of what had happened, but it was leaving me. I was sore from head to toe, my bones aching, and reality was settling like a horrible, suffocating blanket. Sarafine knew where we were. Enaelle was dead. My magic wasn’t strong enough to fight my sisters. The entire situation was moving against me.

  Enaelle’s easy laugh flashed through my mind and I shoved it away, but that didn’t stop the fresh wave of throbbing behind my eyes.