Page 104 of Shadows of Winter

Careful not to brush the vines, she said, “I’m ready for the pot.”

Grumbling, Targon came closer. He also eyed those vines. Since entering the castle, had he been gifted any of the visions about rangers being killed?

He lifted the pot overhead, and she stretched down, flexing her core for support as she gripped it. A leaf twitched on one of the vines, and she almost dropped the honey water on Targon’s head. A few drops sloshed out of the pot. He cursed and stepped back, but he was looking at the vine, not her.

“Is that plant alive? Or what?” He dropped a hand to his sword.

As Kaylina hefted the pot onto the boards next to her, she thought about saying all plants were alive, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant. “I think it’s in the or what category.”

Targon grunted and took another step back.

“You might want to go,” Kaylina said. “Based on the visions I’ve had while sleeping—and not sleeping—the castle doesn’t like rangers.”

“So the stories say.” Targon glanced toward the exit but, hand on his sword hilt, remained where he was. “Do what you need to do. I said I’d keep an eye on you.”

Something brushed Kaylina’s back, and she rolled away, barely refraining from screaming. One of the branches had shifted toward her, leaves flexing. She scurried toward the wall, though she was tempted to dive through the hole and get out of there.

But the branch didn’t reach farther for her. It hovered over the pot, one of the leaves dipping in, reminding her of Crenoch’s tongue.

“You all right up there?” Targon asked.

She’d kept from screaming but wasn’t surprised he’d heard her rapid roll. “So far. It just… moves.”

“I noticed. I’m debating cutting off those dangling vines, but I’ve seen enough in my life to know that curses and magic are real. We probably shouldn’t have let you set up here.”

“Probably,” Kaylina mouthed and rolled her eyes.

From below, he wouldn’t be able to see her disrespect.

“But Vlerion doesn’t think the curse started that fire.”

“No, someone is after us. Or wants us out of here, more likely.”

“You have any suspects?”

Two more leaves dipped into the pot.

Kaylina rose to her feet and grabbed the ladle. “The Virts, I’d guess. People who want to use the pantry as an entrance and exit to the catacombs without witnesses around. I suppose Jana might be involved.”

“Who?”

“She’s an older lady who introduced herself as one of the proprietors of the Nakeron Inn. I guess they make and sell mead, so she’s our competition.” Kaylina avoided the branch and ladled her honey concoction onto the soil of the plant. The liquid disappeared immediately, as if she were pouring water into a parched desert. She spread it all around. “She’s come by a couple of times that we know about, and I’ve gotten the vibe that she’s spying on us. She was watching the fire from across the river.”

“Hm.”

Kaylina stepped back, wondering if she should leave the pot up there. A few more branches had draped over it, and a vine had slithered across the floorboards and over the lip.

Nothing more substantial happened, not that she could see. The glow didn’t change, and she couldn’t tell if the plant’s magic altered. One of the familiar eerie moans wafted from the rooftop, so probably not.

“What kind of magic have you seen? In your twenty-five years with the rangers?” Kaylina wondered if Targon had seen Vlerion change. Or maybe he’d been one of the men responsible for killing Vlerion’s brother when he’d been in beast form. If so, could Vlerion have forgiven him?

“More than can be explained by books,” was all Targon said.

Kaylina looked out the window, not surprised to spot snowflakes falling from the dark sky. Spring was slow coming here. Maybe those frigid mountains always kept their frosty grip on the land.

A startled gasp came from below.

“Targon?” Kaylina looked at the vines dangling through the hole, but they hadn’t moved.

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