Jesstin didn’t flinch. “What girl?”
Jesstin’s sword was still propped on the side of the embankment, its hilt tilted her way. Like it was waiting for her.
“The witch who murdered Lord Quinlanden’s son.” The man spat on Jesstin’s boot. “He’d like his prisoner back.”
“Haven’t seen a witch or a prisoner.”
Elloven froze. The men weren’t robbers. They hadn’t outrun the danger. It had found them.
“I don’t care about you or your craven friend who ran into the woods.”
“He’s no friend of mine. Maybe he’s seen your little vengeful witch.”
The bandit hesitated. A subtle glance over his shoulder confirmed what Elloven already knew must be true, that there was at least one more of them. She took a step and twigs snapped, grabbing the attention of both Jesstin and the thug, and she sprang without thinking, tripping and falling as she dove for the sword.
“Elloven!” Jesstin screeched.
She scraped one hand along the ground until it found worn, hard leather, and wrapped it tight, then inched backward in the mud until a sharp blade landed on her chest. Her eyes shuttered in defeat, but she’d been held at point before, and she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Got the witch!” the man cried with a cackle.
In her desperation, she tried to call upon a nightmare, but she couldn’t find a path into their thoughts. There wasn’t time to keep trying or figure out why. Their best chance was to reason with the men, offer them more gold than Lord Quinlanden had. Where she’d get it was a problem for another day.
“Tie her up and throw her in the wagon. I’ll finish this one.”
“You even fucking touch her—” Jesstin’s words were cut off. His body hit the ground.
I smell rich, earthy pine. I hear a vulture in the distance. The wind is blowing southeast. Pine. Vulture. Southeast wind.
Elloven screamed when the man knotted her hair in his hand and yanked upward. She was transported to those long nights in the cabin with Fabrien and his friends, how they’d only stopped when she developed bald spots, which he’d then have to explain. She could hear him, in crystal clarity, whispering through his hot, drunken breath, I would kill myself if I ever lost as much power as you have.
Vivid light eclipsed the world. The comforting scent of pine was gone, replaced by Fabrien’s foul stench. The vultures had transformed into his friends, cackling as they joked about something one of their wives had done. The wind no longer blew southeast. It whipped in all directions at once and it was icy cold, the coldest she’d ever felt, and it wasn’t only happening around her but within her.
Elloven crashed to the ground and lost her sight, except instead of darkness, there was more light—dazzling, terrifying light. Jesstin’s garbled grunts joined a piercing, ringing sound between her ears, but she couldn’t see anything.
Jesstin’s voice rose above the others. “What have you... What is... How did you... El, Elloven? Can you hear me? Elloven!”
She flopped onto her back, praying to see sky, but its absence sent her into a spasmic fit. Firm hands encircled her upper arms, pinning her, but she couldn’t stop shaking, and the sky wouldn’t come back.
“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.” A shaky breath. “Please.”
A filmy haze spread across her small world. Within it, a glowing orb appeared. Soon she made out Jesstin’s crystalline eyes... his beautiful mouth, never short of something clever to say. More color came to life in his cheeks, and blood, so much blood, smeared his face, trickling down his temple. She knew at least some of it was his.
“Elloven?”
“I can’t breathe.” She swatted him and dragged herself across the needles and leaves. “I need air.”
He shot to his feet. “We need to get you into the carriage, now.”
“I can’t... breathe.” She panted. Inky spots dotted the forest, and Jesstin. She pleaded with the pine to return, bracing for the wind so she could count it on the list of things that were real, but the world had become a storm of ice. She wheezed, her head turning, and she saw something she could not possibly, rationally explain.
The man who had wounded Jesstin was encased in ice, head to toe. His expression had frozen in horror, both of his hands out in front of him.
Everything vanished.
When she came to, her head was in Jesstin’s lap.
“Forget them. Look at me.” He shifted her face to look up at him. “We have to get out of here. Can you stand?”
