And now that I’m not chilled to the bone, I’ve been caressing the fur along their spines.
“We had a visitor,” Niklaus says quietly.
The breeze has died somewhere between the mountains, and now all that remains is a frozen, eerie quiet. The wolves sleep in a ringaround us, but I can feel the change in Niklaus’s breath against my back.
I roll onto my back to see him. Niklaus is propped up on one elbow.
“Who?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t see them. But they left us something.”
Down by the opening of the cave is a leather backpack and a satchel canteen for water. Someone left us means for survival. Could it be Asena and members of the Stormsage Keep? Why wouldn’t they stay to help us get home? They’ve known Niklaus and I since we were born.
Carefully slipping out from the cocoon of warmth the wolves have given us, Niklaus gets dressed, and goes to inspect the contents of the backpack.
“Change into these.” He tosses me thick fur clothing and a pair of boots.
Hell yes. We’ll be able to get out of here. But will we be able to hike all the way back to the Red Oaks in the snow?
The wolves wake up one at a time as we tie our boots, buckle our pants, and fasten our coats. They sit up, blink slowly, and begin to leave the cave in a single-file line.
“Thank you,” I murmur as they leave, patting one on the head as it briefly rubs against my thigh.
The trek through the snowis long, exhausting, and lonely.
Niklaus refuses to acknowledge me in any way. Which normally I cherish. But this is an unusual time. We need to be a team whether I like it or not. Uncle Niles has been captured in Vexamen, and yet we’re back in Dementia. I can’t shake the disbelief in my bones that we’ve left him behind.
“I’m worried about Uncle Niles,” I finally say as we cross over into the Evergreen Dark Wood.
His steps falter, and he has to roll his shoulders before he continues walking.
“Me too.”
“I don’t understand how he was so violently treated in Aunt Ruth’s territory. She’d never allow that.”
The muscles in Niklaus’s jaw are working endlessly as he grinds his teeth.
“He’s okay though, right? Surely Aunt Ruth and Uncle Warrose would have gotten word about his capture?”
But it all feels so wrong. My optimistic thoughts are figments of imagination. Of wishful thinking.
“Did that look like the same place Aunt Ruth has ruled over to you?” he growls.
No.
Niklaus scans the dimming horizon, glaring at the sun lowering below the tree line. What are we supposed to do once it gets dark? In this forest, it turns pitch black. And neither of us knows our way around or how to get out.
“Maybe we can find Runa? Ask for a place to stay?” I offer.
He stops walking, sighs loudly, a show of how agitated he is by my effort to communicate. Heat presses into my chest as my temper grows weary and inconsolable. This idiotneedsme. He said it himself. Even though I know he’s wrong about that theory, I’m not going to correct him and devalue myself.I’mthe asset here, and he’s pretty much deadweight.
“Fine. I’ll go myself.” Before I can stomp off, Niklaus catches my wrist.
I react out of pettiness. The sickle strapped to my back is pointed at his genitalia so quickly, Niklaus only has time to lower his eyes at the blade to observe thealmost-castration.
“Hand. Off.”
His iron jaw flexes, and though his stone expression does not change, I can feel the hateful seething behind his eyes.
