Page 94 of Horn of Winter

“Almost as pointless as having a bracelet I cannot risk wearing, no matter how beautiful it is.”

“He will be pleased to hear you think that.” She paused. “If you wish to erase the magic within the bracelet, you cando so. You simply press four fingers against the surface, wait for the stars to spiral around them, and then simply say,end this dalliance.The magic will flee, and the bracelet will become nothing more than stars encased in stone.”

I nodded, though the thought of doing so broke something deep inside. “Thank you for that.”

She nodded and finished her drink. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any time to consider Geitha’s Tears?”

“I’ve done a little research but haven’t yet discovered anything more than what you’ve already told me. Once this mess with my aunt is over, I’ll try a little scrying.”

She hesitated, then simply nodded, and rose. “Stay wary, Bethany. Deceptions abound in this world right now, and some of them wear a pleasant face.”

And with those ominous words hanging between us, she left.

The urge to run after her and ask her to explain hit hard but I suspected it would be of little use. Like Cynwrig, she would only tell me what she wanted me to know, when she thought I needed to know it, especially when it involved family.

Though why I thought that might be the case here, I couldn’t say.

I sighed, finished my drink, then went upstairs to pack some bags. After a quick ring around various hotels, I found a suite in the Abode Hotel, which was a modern glass-and-black-steel semicircular building a country mile away from anything I’d generally choose to stay in. It also wasn’t that far away from the museum, which meant I could keep an eye out for any resumption of attack there.

I sent a message to both my brother and Mathi to let them know where I was headed, then picked up my bags and headed out of my bedroom. I’d barely reached the stairs when the wind whisked in from the still-open bedroom window and whispered her secrets.

The witch might have retreated from the museum, but she hadn’t gone very far.

Right now, she was kneeling on the roof of the lovely old neoclassical bank building on the corner of Eastgate and St Werburgh Street, preparing to ice us over.

I dropped my bags, ran down the stairs, and found Ingrid. After explaining what was happening, I told her to get everyone out of the building via the rear lane.

She didn’t argue. Aside from the fact she’d worked with both Mom and Gran, and had witnessed some pretty strange things over the years, she was aware of the attacks on both the tavern and me over the last few weeks. And, no doubt, also knew about the three recent ice attacks. I might not watch the news, but I knew she did.

As she started ushering the customers out and organizing the staff to quickly secure their various sections before heading out themselves, I ran back upstairs, hauled down the loft ladder, and scrambled up it.

The minute my fingers touched the upper floor, I could feel the chill in the old wood, though it wasn’t yet cold enough to form ice or kill its song. The witch had obviously flipped her method of attack again, this time going top to bottom, just as she had at Kaitlyn’s.

I made no attempt to halt the steadily increasing chill. I didn’t reach for my knives or drive them into the fabric of the building to break her hold on it. Doing so risked her simply retreating again. My best bet was to attackherrather than her ice, and my best way of doing that was via a storm.

More specifically, via lightning.

Whether I had enough strength left to do that, I honestly couldn’t say. But I had to try.

After sending Mathi a quick text to tell him what was happening and what I was about to do, I grabbed the ottomanfootstool in front of Mom’s chair and carried it down to the skylight at the end of the room. I still hadn’t gotten around to getting it fixed, so it remained locked in place by a long but sturdy piece of wire. I undid that, then leaped onto the footstool and pushed the skylight all the way open. Stars twinkled high above, but I could feel the distant caress of thunder and hoped like hell there was enough power within it to stop the witch hiding further down the street. After a quick plea to any gods that might be listening to give me a damn break for a change, I grabbed the sides of the skylight and half jumped, half wiggled, my ass onto the roof. The slates were slick with moss, forcing me to concentrate and proceed cautiously when all I wanted to do was damn well run. Even so, I slipped more than once, but each time managed to catch my balance before sliding right over the edge. I reached my neighbor’s rooftop without killing myself and sighed in relief, but it was likely a little too early given there remained a good half dozen buildings between me and the witch.

A quick glance behind me revealed the tiles now had a silver sheen. If I didn’t stop her soon, the building’s song would start dying.

I swore and moved on. Thankfully, the newer rear sections of the next couple of buildings weren’t as steep as mine, allowing me to go faster. Two buildings from the end of the street and the bank building, however, I struck a large problem—an additional floor that had been tacked on top of the old building. I scanned it crossly—partially because the heritage council had given us shit for raising the tavern’s roof and yet had allowed this monstrosity to be built—looking for a way up. There was no ladder and nothing I could stand on. Nothing that wouldn’t buckle under my weight, anyway.

Which meantthisroof would have to do. She wouldn’t at least see me from here, and it was doubtful she’d sense me. All her concentration and strength were probably being channeledinto icing over the tavern, so it was unlikely she’d notice the gathering force of electricity in the air until it was too late.

I recalled the finger of wind that had warned me of her presence and sent it skittering forward again to get a clearer indication of her location; it returned with news she was near the front corner of the bank building, a position that would give her good views of both streets.

Meaning she likely planned to run again the minute she either sensed my presence in her ice or saw the IIT swarming the area.

I took a long deep breath that did little to ease the trembling weariness that remained deep within, then drew my knives and reached for the distant clouds. Technically, I should be on the ground and grounded, but there were too many people out on the streets and, if things went wrong, too many people that could be hurt. But shoving a blade into the slate flooring in the kitchen at Tony’s had certainly succeeded in ridding my body of the lingering remnants of lightning, so it should work equally as well here. And, at the very least, this building had a long expanse of slate, and that hopefully meant it would more easily disperse the force I was about to call down.

IfI could call it down.

I closed my eyes, pictured the witch’s position, then raised a knife and reached for the electricity that gently rolled through that distant storm. Pain knifed through my brain, and a gasp escaped. It was just as well I was already sitting because I definitely would have fallen. Moisture squeezed past closed eyelids, but I bit my lip, using one pain to counter the other as I continued to call to the storm. After a moment, thunder cracked, a distant but powerful force, then light shot across the dark sky, momentarily blotting out the stars as it streaked toward me—a fierceness I could not only feel but see through closed eyelids.

The lightning hit the raised blade, and pain exploded through me. While the storm’s electricity was nowhere near as powerful as the tempest I’d called down earlier, my insides now felt like they were being boiled alive. Doing this twice in one day without giving my body a decent chance to rest was obviouslynota good thing.

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