“Possibly nothing. An idea that we might want to look into once there’s enough light.”
Every morning, Melilot’s stepmother would stop by the base of the tower and call up to her, “Will you not let me in?”
Melilot would yell, “Do not mock me, you poisonous snake! You know full well there is no door.”
For a full year, Melilot languished in the tower. Day after day she gazed upon the wilderness of Skalla. With little to occupy her time, she spent her days resenting her stepmother, resenting herself, and longing to be free.
“Why have you stopped?” Sam asked after a moment.
“That’s the end.”
“That can’t be the end!” Sam sat halfway up. My head slid off his shoulder. “That’s not a finished story. What happened next?”
“Nothing. It was a boring year in a tower. But I got out eventually, and now I’m here.”
“You’re skipping bits.” He let his head fall back on the pillow.
“There isn’t anything left to tell,” I said as I resettled myself. “Some stories are like that.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
—
But of course, I was lying.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Today When I Was on the Stair, I Saw a Room That Wasn’t There
I woke up slowly, with a raw ache at the back of my throat. That didn’t bode well. The trek through the frozen forest had taken its toll, and a single night of sleep had not been enough to stave off the effects.
At least I’d slept decently enough. The feather mattress was the most comfortable place I’d had to lay my head since leaving Skalla. Soft and cozy. Especially cozy since at some point during the night, I’d curled up even closer to the warm body next to mine; my cheek was still nestled in the crook of Sam’s shoulder, but now my arm was flung across his chest as well. He snored softly and evenly, like a drowsy cat. In the morning light, his face was just as lovely as it had been at dusk. Lovelier, in fact, now that I could see it better.
I didn’t want to move. In particular, I didn’t want to move my arm. I wanted nothing more than to possessively drape my leg over him, too. There was, I thought, a solid argument to be made that it would be healthiest for me to spend the rest of the day snuggling in bed. Or possibly the rest of the week.
But a bladder is a harsh mistress, and no matter how warm Sam was, no matter how much my throat hurt, and no matter how cold it was outside the nest of blankets—and it was cold enough to sting—the urgent signals my body was sending could not be long ignored. Repressing a groan, I slid away from Sam and tottered to my feet. The frigid stone floor stabbed at my toes like a knife until I managed to get my boots on. My ankle was feeling better at least.
Outside, a perfect blanket of unbroken white covered the ground and clung to the limbs of the trees. It was almost eerily quiet. The snow had stopped, and the wind had died down, which meant I was able to take care of necessary business in relative comfort. “Relative” being a word doing a lot of heavy lifting in a situation where I risked literally freezing my ass off. The low morning sun was shining in a cloudless sky, making the snow glitter and glimmer, but it failed to provide much heat.
Sam was sitting up and blinking when I came back in. He’d just begun to get dressed and looked unfairly chipper considering the arduous journey we would need to resume that day. I still resented having had to get out of bed. But when he smiled shyly at me, an answering smile crept onto my own face nonetheless.
He looked down and away. My grin faded.
We were falling into a very deep and difficult place together, weren’twe?
“We should probably get on our way,” he mumbled at the floor as he tied his mask on. “It’ll be hard going even without the snowstorm. The earlier we start, the more likely we are to find the castle before nightfall. I think we both could stand to have a hot meal in front of a roaring fire.”
My stomach made a gurgling noise at the uncomfortable reminder I’d had nothing to eat all day yesterday. And for the month before that, technically.
We had no great reason to believe we were heading towardthe castle, though. Following the stream was a reasonable plan, but it didn’t come with any guarantee of success. At least it meant we had a constant source of fresh water, although one so cold it made my teeth throb.
Sam was right that our chances would be better if we got an early start. But still…
“I want to check one thing before we go.” My voice came out as a harsh croak. Sam glanced up at me in surprise. I swallowed, even though it hurt, and tried again. “It shouldn’t take long,” I managed more smoothly.
If I’d been my own patient, I would’ve prescribed a healthy dose of willow bark tea. Perhaps with some elderflower or lemon and honey. Then I’d suggest bed rest. Maybe we’d find a willow in the woods. Tea didn’t seem likely, but I could chew on the bark.
