Breath of Winter, A

by Edwards, Hailey

  Not if I could help it. “I’m getting a crick in my neck from looking up to everyone.”

  He appeared to give that some thought. “Does this have anything to do with Edan’s visit?”

  “I will admit I wasn’t keen on being trapped in a chair with my head at his chest level.”

  “Crutches put you at a greater risk of reinjuring your ankle.”

  “I promise I won’t go on a tear through the tunnels. I won’t try to carry anything. I won’t overdo my shoulder. If you still require help in the laboratory, I will walk carefully from here to there, sit on the stool of your choice and do whatever task you set before me. At the end of the day, I will walk just as cautiously all the way back to my bedroom, where I will climb into bed with the utmost care.”

  “I’ll have to check the storerooms,” he finally said. “It may take me until the afternoon.”

  I grinned as I polished off the last of my breakfast. “I can wait.”

  “I’m on my way to examine Ghedi. Would you like me to pass anything on to your brothers?”

  “Tell them…” I love them. I miss them. I fear for them. “…I will see them soon.”

  He collected my plate and cup. “I will bring you an update when I’m through.”

  “Thank you.” I swirled my tea. “Your efforts are greatly appreciated.”

  While I sat sulking, Henri pinched my chin and turned me to face him. “Stop worrying.”

  I told him the simple truth. “I can’t.”

  His thumb slid over my bottom lip. “Try.”

  I hooked a finger in his collar and pulled him down to me. “I have. It didn’t help.”

  He lowered his head, moving his warm lips over mine. “What are your plans for the morning?”

  “You assume I have some.”

  “If I return to find you still in bed,” he said on a laugh, “I will eat my shirt.”

  Tempting as it was to tease him, I confessed, “I won’t be here when you get back.”

  “So I assumed.” He waited. I smiled. “What are you up to?”

  I feigned shock. “Nothing.”

  “Be careful doing nothing.” He released my chin. “Can you promise me that?”

  “If not careful, I am always cautious.” There. That sounded promissory.

  “Those are not the same things.”

  “I know.”

  “Zuri…”

  “I will be in the same condition when you return as when you left me.” Most likely.

  “See that you are.” With that, he collected my dishes, the pitcher, and ducked out of my room.

  After giving him a generous head start, I made quick use of the basin to wash before I slipped on a fresh gown and eased into my chair, tucking my borrowed dagger and a coil of rope I had woven beside me. I would make more later to complete my net. Gods knew I had enough time on my hands.

  While I waited for Henri to finish his rounds, I decided to explore the stables. If Edan was right and guards patrolled the area outside the exit hatch, I saw no harm in exploring the lookout Asher had mentioned and gauging the riser threat for myself. If nothing else, the exercise would do me good.

  The path to the stables was familiar now, as was the steep incline that had stopped my previous attempt at exploration. Before tempting fate and Henri’s temper, I scanned the area above the exit.

  Sure enough, a ladder was mounted to one side of the hatch, leading up to a narrow bridge suspended from the ceiling. The opening must either be covered or too narrow to allow light to pass through. I saw no peepholes on the world outside, but the certainty there was one set me to my task.

  I studied the walls to either side of me. Both were smooth except for a matched pair of those odd lights. Since the tunnel was made of tile and silk, I wondered what anchored the fixtures. If tiles held them, I would have to rethink my plan. But if the fixtures had been woven into the silk framework…

  I wheeled myself beneath one and grasped it, hauling myself to my feet. I hung from it as best I could, letting it hold my weight, which it did without protest. Silk it was then. Good. I could use that.

  Shifting in my seat, I withdrew my rope and tied my best knot around the neck of one lamp, and then the other. I yanked with all my strength and neither budged. Excellent. I tied the rope’s end onto an armrest and crept backward toward the ramp’s edge, testing my slack. It worked like a charm, so I tossed the rope onto the ramp and turned so I faced the incline head-on. Gripping both wheels tight in each hand, I used my good foot as a brace while I rolled down the incline with starts and stops.

  By the time I reached the bottom, my hands ached. I flexed my fingers until the stiffness eased, until I could untie my chair. When the knot gave, I placed the coil of rope at the base of the incline.

  On reflex, I reached beside me and let the cold comfort of my borrowed dagger steel my nerves.

  Aside from the shuffling and grumbling sounds of the ursus in their stalls, all was quiet.

  The vastness of the place still impressed me, but it lacked the whimsy of Henri’s laboratory, where each corner held a new discovery waiting to be made.

  After I wandered down the main aisle and glimpsed the seemingly endless rows of stalls, my appreciation for the task Asher and Braden did left me wishing I could help them with their chores. It was unfair for them to deal with all this plus the extra work of helping keep an eye on our ward. But it was just as unfair for Ghedi to be ill, or for Kaleb and Tau to be confined to his room for my protection hour after hour without end.

  When at last I arrived at the foot of the ramp leading up to the hatch, I reclined in my chair while studying the puzzle of how to reach the lookout. I had the upper-body strength to haul myself up the rungs. I could hop into position using the railing to keep weight off my ankle while I surveyed the area. The problem was the short section of ramp between me and the base of the ladder. What I needed was more rope. A grappling hook wouldn’t hurt, either. Somehow I would have to make do without either.

  The longer I sat there considering alternatives, the colder I became until gooseflesh rippled over my skin.

  Lush as these appointments were, even by Araneaean standards, I frowned at the draft.

  If this hatch was as secure as Asher claimed, this place should be as warm as the rest of the nest.

  Turning from the ramp, I began a slow examination of the stalls facing the exit. Several stood empty, with fresh wood shavings piled high in their centers. I was partway down the second row when I heard a thumping sound coming from a few rows away. I glanced toward the hatch, but the sound came ahead of me, not from behind me.

  Picking up speed, I turned the corner and rolled into the main aisle. Heart in my throat, I followed the sound to the very last row. Here it was colder. I had to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. Though my fingers were growing numb, I set my dagger on my lap and crept nearer the stall where the noise originated. There was blood on the latch, and the door was unlocked. I cracked it open as prickles swept up the base of my neck.

  A mound of fur lay in a pool of congealed blood. Bones protruded from the beast’s chest, each cleaned of meat. Its spine faced me, and its sides were hollowed. Bits of its organs matted its fur.

  I glanced to my left, and then to my right. Several more stalls bore red handprints.

  The animals were unnaturally quiet on this row.

  I shut the stall door, caved to the need to feel the knife’s hilt in my hand then balanced it on my thighs. Both hands were required for my escape, and I wasn’t sticking around to find out how that ursus died. The obvious answer was a riser had snuck in, but how and when I couldn’t guess.

  What I needed was to get back to the ramp, back to Henri. Someone who knew the stables should secure it. Scenarios bounced through my head, and each ended with blame pinned on Edan. He had left hours ago, and the carcass was several hours old. It was a too great a coincidence.

  If he had lured a riser into the nest, I had two immediate concerns—the rise
r and Edan.

  Then there was his wife to consider. Had Marne gone to the city or had she been here waiting?

  “I should have stayed in bed,” I muttered.

  Stalls scrolled past as I pushed harder and faster. Soon I was at the base of the ramp, straining to pick up the rope without falling out of my chair. When I snagged it at last, I took a breather, spinning so that I kept my back flush against the wall. Paranoia, my faithful friend, had just saved my life.

  Ahead of me, a riser lumbered down the main aisle, jaw slack and face bloody, headed right for me. Its cloudy eyes ignored the ramp and settled on me. Its mottled lips pulled back to flash yellow teeth stained crimson. Its tattered clothing clung to its emaciated frame, slick with blood.

  Its gut full of ursus must have slowed it some. I had ample time to dart down the nearest row in an attempt to lose it long enough to decide on my next course of action. It wasn’t moving fast, but it was quicker than I would be hauling myself hand over hand up the steep ramp back into the tunnel.

  Whether it was the stench of decay or the renewed smell of the blood of their own, the animals began roaring and throwing their bulk against the walls as the riser passed their stalls. The chaos was sweet music to my ears. If they made enough noise, they might summon help.

  Careful to keep ahead of the staggering riser, I eked past the corner and began easing down the next row. Halfway to the center, I paused to listen.

  The stables were in an uproar. It was impossible to pinpoint the riser’s location now.

  Opposite me, a stall door exploded outward. I covered my head as splinters pelted my arms.

  An ursus walked out on its hind legs, roaring and swiping the air. I kept one arm up while I grasped my dagger. When its foul breath heated my face, I forced my eyes to meet its black ones.

  “Farrow.” Relief spun giddy through my chest.

  She snorted at me, stomping the ground and mock charging me. I don’t think she was as happy to see me as I was to see her.

  Down the line, other doors cracked and burst as more ursus poured into the aisle. This ursus might have just saved my life. I tamped down the adrenaline choking all sense of reason and held a palm out for Farrow to sniff. The other ursus scattered, leaving her and me alone on the row. So much for distraction. The riser, wherever it had gone, would still peg me as the easiest pickings if I was sitting here when it remembered me. Forcing Farrow to aid me might cost me a hand, but it was that or my life. I made the only choice I had, grasping for her ruff while I dodged the snap of her sharp teeth and her bellowed roars.

  “Easy girl. It’s me. Zuri.” I snatched my hand from the danger zone while she growled. “It’s all right. Come on. Get closer. That’s a good girl.” I reached for her ruff again. This time I snagged what passed for a simple leather halter covering her great head. Though she snarled at me, she allowed me to pull her alongside my chair. “This isn’t going to be fun for either of us, girl. Here we go.”

  Grinding my teeth against the pain, I tucked the dagger under my arm and swung my leg free of the brace. When I stood, it hurt. Pain shot down my leg, stinging in my ankle until tears formed in my eyes. I took a step. Farrow shied from the cast, which meant another step, until I was close enough to fist her fur. She was so tall, grasping for her meant raising my arm. The dagger clattered to the floor as I tugged myself onto her back. Her steady rumbling cursed me for pulling out fistfuls of her hair, but by the gods, I had never been more grateful for an animal’s kindness. Digging my heels into her sides, I gave up on achieving balance. I had never been an accomplished bareback rider, but fear lent me skill.

  Without reins to guide her, I was forced to go along for the ride. She cantered after the ursus fleeing their stalls, breaking into a full run as we hit the main aisle. Several ursus had climbed the ramp to claw and rage against the closed door. Farrow dismissed that idea with a snort when she saw they were wasting effort. While she hemmed and hawed, I searched frantically for the riser.

  It was nowhere in sight.

  Stomach roiling, I grasped desperately for any plan to get Farrow up the opposite ramp and into the cramped confines of the tunnel. As I clung onto her back, desperate for inspiration, it found me.

  A frantic, ursine scream stunned the stable into silence. In that eerie moment, I spied the riser.

  It clung to the side of a large boar, gnawing at the arch of its throat. Farrow rocked back on her heels, the only warning she gave before standing on her hind legs to issue a fierce challenge.

  Oblivious to her bellow of rage, the riser chewed on its victim, trying to rip out its throat.

  “Mercy be.” I circled my arms around her neck, wishing for all I was worth I was still armed.

  When she dropped to all fours, she charged, snarling and snapping as she ran.

  By the time we reached the ursus, it was too late. Blood slicked its fur, and I was in no shape to tend it. If I slid from Farrow’s back, I doubted fate—or the sow—would grant me a second chance.

  With its victim thrashing in its death throes, the riser’s sole focus became its next meal.

  Farrow was not to be deterred. Once in range, she swiped with her massive paw and sent the riser flying against the nearest stall. It sat dazed and shaking its head while she nosed the dead ursus. With their heads together, it was impossible to miss the familial resemblance. Both animals wore the same russet fur, had the same wedge-shaped head and the same white dappling on their chins.

  The riser had killed Farrow’s cub, and her mournful wail at that realization broke my heart.

  Unaware of the danger it faced, the riser stood with an incoherent groan.

  Farrow lifted her massive head as though it was the hardest thing she had ever done.

  Her sights locked on the stumbling riser, and I almost let fear convince me to slide off her. It was more that my hands were knotted in her fur, clenched too tight to release my grip, that kept me astride her.

  A mother ursus’s justice against those who harmed her children was final. I knew that. But I had never experienced it until then. Chest heaving, Farrow charged the riser, slamming her broad shoulder into it, knocking it back to the ground. She straddled it, getting nose to nose to yell at it.

  Before I could blink, she had reared back one meaty paw and, using the force of her muscular shoulder, crushed the riser’s skull between her palm and the cold, hard floor. Her child avenged, Farrow’s head drooped. The fight drained out of her, leaving us both staring at the wet stain she had made.

  “I am so sorry.” I scratched the back of her neck and her shoulders. She was inconsolable.

  I hated myself for using her grief as my opportunity.

  Digging my heels into her sides, I nudged her forward. Broken as her spirit was, when I pulled at the fur to one side of her neck, she followed my order, allowing me to guide her to the ramp. I held my breath when she balked at using the unfamiliar incline, but firmer pressure on her sides urged her up and into the tunnel’s mouth.

  There was no sense of triumph in my escape. Though I had killed my share of animals for survival, I had yet to hunt an ursus. There were few native to the southlands, and I hadn’t been interested in traveling north in pursuit of larger game when I could catch my fill of fresh salmo at home. No. I had never hunted a wild ursus for sport or otherwise.

  Struggling to shake the memory of Farrow with her fallen cub, I swore I never would either.

  Chapter Ten

  Araneidae tunnels were not meant to accommodate the girth or height of an ursus, and certainly not one bearing a rider. Pressing my face into Farrow’s neck, I squeezed my eyes shut against the dull pain spiraling up my leg from my ankle. When I could stand to, I urged her forward with my knees, but she was wary of the tightness of the place and decided it was best if she trudged along.

  I kept my ears cocked for sounds of pursuit. I heard nothing but Farrow’s heavy sighs.

  Because I also turned an eye to the blackness at our backs, I missed when we were spotted.


  “Zuri?”

  Relief at the sound of Henri’s voice turned my limbs to pudding. When he reached me, I slid willingly into his arms. Farrow chuffed at him but otherwise surrendered me without complaint.

  “What happened?” He studied my face. “You’re speckled with blood…and riding an ursus.”

  “Nothing happened to me—thanks to Farrow.” I grasped his collar. “Listen. You must send someone to secure the stables. I went exploring while you were with my brothers and ran into a riser. It slaughtered at least one ursus before I disturbed it and killed another before Farrow helped me escape. Where there was one, there may be more. Do you think Edan could have left a hatch open?”

  “No.” His tone left no room to argue. “How did you mount Farrow?”

  A pulse of discomfort shot up my calf. “The best way I could.”

  He gifted my savior a slight frown. “She will have to wait out here. I’ll send Asher and Braden to comb the area and secure the stables. Braden can lead Farrow back to her stall. She trusts him.”

  “It’s a large task.” Made larger by the frantic ursus. “Can they accomplish it alone?”

  “They have no choice.” Henri sidestepped Farrow and carried me into his laboratory. “I may ask Kaleb and Tau to help them. I had just been considering moving them into quarters in the stables.”

  My grip on him tightened. “They’re well then?”

  “They are.” His voice strangled until I let go. “Ghedi has stabilized. They can’t do any more for him than they have, and neither has shown any signs of infection.”

  Careful of my cast, Henri sat me on a chair and used an empty crate to prop my leg.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered. “I will be right back.”

  He jogged to the rear of the laboratory and slipped inside the bastille. He kept the door open and led Braden and Asher out of there while placating the others still on guard. The three of them dashed past me in their haste to, I assumed, recruit Kaleb and Tau for the unsavory tasks awaiting them.

  The laboratory’s hatch clanged shut and sealed tight.