She crawled out from the shelter, dragging the rucksack behind.
She needed to see him once more. Even if it was just the smallest glimpse.
She needed to say goodbye.
Greer stood on shaky legs, trying to get her bearings in this new world of white. Snowflakes landed on her eyelashes, brushed her skin with cool, indifferent kisses, then fluttered by unmelted, unchanged.
How much of me is left unchanged?she wondered, holding out her bare hands, catching the flakes, studying each starburst, taking in every filigreed point. It didn’t seem like there was much of the old Greer left at all. Uneasy, she let the snowflakes fall from her.
She turned to her left and spotted Ellis. Wind had pushed the snow into deep drifts around him, completely covering his corpse. She paused, playing out different scenarios in her mind. She imagined brushing aside the snow for one last look, taking in all the damage both she and Elowen had inflicted. Or she could walk away, leaving him behind forever.
Which version would hurt least?
After a long, drawn-out moment, Greer stood on tiptoe and pushed away the snow. A shock of disbelief welled within her and, even though it hurt, she threw back her head and laughed.
The figure that had attacked her, that she’d killed, impaled upon the jagged point of a cart’s handle, was not Ellis. A Bright-Eyed, one she hadn’t seen before, had masqueraded as her love, but in death, its body had begun to revert to its monstrous state, muddling features into a nightmarish chimera of body parts. Half its face still looked human, a shard of dark eyebrow and copper-colored skin. Greer wondered if this Bright-Eyed had belonged to the same people as the girl and her grandfather in Laird, before its turning.
Whoever the poor soul had been, it was most assuredly not Ellis.
But it wasn’t Elowen, either. The set of its now milky eyes was too wide, its body far too tall. Greer stared up at its gruesome visage, the curled snout with black bristles, the ears as cavernously large as a bat’s. She’d never seen a Bright-Eyed so still. For the briefest moment, she pitied it.
“I did it. I killed one,” she whispered with surprise. Laughter bubbled up within her.
“Greer?” Finn’s voice broke through her elation, startling her.
She turned, catching footfalls. Through the white noise of the snowstorm, they sounded distorted and far away, even as she spotted him trudging up the hillside.
“Finn! Look!” she exclaimed before it occurred to her that perhaps he would not be as overjoyed to see the corpse. “It attacked me, but I stopped it!” she added, hoping he’d understand.
Finn squinted against the driving snow, studying the motionless body behind her. His eyebrows raised, impressed. “Salix, one of Elowen’s fiercest guards. Besting him is no small feat.”
A flush of pleasure warmed her cheeks. Greer’s fingers curled; she craved his praise even while acknowledging the horror of what she’d done. She turned from the dead Bright-Eyed. “Where were you? I waited for as long as I could, but the storm—”
He waved aside her explanation. “Plans changed.” He indicated a length of rope held over his shoulder. She couldn’t see what trailed behind him, but she could hear the soft swoosh of snowshoes.
“Finn?”
With a sigh, he stepped back, revealing a dark huddled shape.
“Greer.”
The voice was rendered almost too hoarse to recognize, but Greer would have known its gruff formality anywhere. “Father?”
39
Greer stared dumbstruckat the sight of Hessel Mackenzie. She’d never expected to see her father again, and now he was here, with thick ropes tied around his wrists, and being led up the mountain like a pack mule.
“Why is he…? How did you…?”
“Found him outside Laird,” Finn said, giving the rope a firm yank.
“Let me go,” Hessel hissed, his tone too low, and dangerous given his current position. “Greer, some assistance, please?”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded instead.
“I’m bringing you home.”
A snort of laughter burst from her before she could stop it. “Are you in earnest? You can’t still think I’m going to marry Lachlan.” The idea was so absurd, she laughed again.
