Page 33 of A Bride for the Winter King
She rounds a tight corner and disappears from my line of sight. I hurry over to the space she just occupied, my boots struggling to gain traction, the crust of ice beneath the fresh snow less traveled in this section of the maze.
Beyond the turn, a long, narrow corridor opens to a wide four-way node, and Aster stops. “I don’t think we’re going the right way,” she says.
A human-shaped shadow walks in front of her, and I break into a run to catch up. “Hey!” I shout after them.
“Come.”
Snow swirls in front of my face. I have no choice but to slow down and carefully press forward with my arms extended. At last, the wind changes direction and blows the snowflakes away from my eyes.
I screech to a halt.
In the middle of the empty circular passage, Aster has turned into an ice statue, her gaze angled to the sky. Dead.
A big chunk of ice near the ground acts as a doll stand, holding her upright. With blue lips and white eyes, she looks like she’s been here for hours and not only a few seconds.
I backtrack, spooked, and summon my daggers to life. “Show yourself!”
Did I see the reaper come for her soul? Or catch a glimpse of her attacker as they fled? Adrenaline coils my muscles, and I raise my blades to each of the moving branches in the hedge, expecting them to reveal an ice monster—or even one of Morrigan’s spiders.
Morheim has barely ended. Regular nightmares might still be prowling around Faerie, too. The strong wind whips my hair forward and blinds me again. Cold sweat ices over my brows, and I wipe it off with my impractical fur sleeves.
With a sickeningcrack, Aster’s body slumps to the ground just as another icy gust hits me square in the chest. I blink away the frost and observe the four paths leading out of the node.Fuck.
All of them look the same, and my footprints in the snow have been erased by the storm. The hedges tower high above me, indistinguishable from one another. The map I’d unlocked from the confines of my mind vanishes, retreating back to some impregnable attic inside my brain. I don’t know which way to go, anymore.
I’m lost.
The heating spell keeping the cloak and boots dry and warm tapers off, my arms and legs shaking from the cold. The chafe of snow and fear numbs my fingers, and I wonder for a moment if I’m not going to turn to ice, too.
I try to grab Aster’s blanket from the ground to create a barrier over my head and block the endless onslaught of snow, but it’s frozen solid.
Keep your head, Lori. This is just another hunt—only I’m hunting for the exit.
Deep breaths, in and out. In and out.Shadow magic pulses in my palms as I climb on top of the hedge in hopes of spotting the mountain range or the castle. The cedar bushes snap and crack under my weight, but I’m not called a spider for nothing.Perched over the maze, I catch a glimpse of the castle lights burning in the distance.
I'm only a few corners away from freedom, but also a few wrong turns away from death, so I double-check every single one of them. Each of my muscles screams in agony, but I won’t let winter claim me. Not before I find some answers.
By the time I finally make it out, the storm is almost over, and the soft light of dawn streaks through the white sky.
“She’s here!” Daisy runs over to me from her sentry position on the parapet. “Stupid girl. Running off into an ice storm like that,” she scolds as she rubs some warmth and life back into me.
Sarafina emerges from the dorms, Byron perched on her shoulder. The chief of staff’s thick white coat and matching ski pants capture my attention as she climbs down the stairs.Such warmth would be divine.
Her gaze searches the trail behind me like she expects Aster to follow in my footsteps. “Where is your friend?”
“She died. Turned into an ice statue in the blink of an eye.” I watch her face, trying to see past the Fae to the woman that lies beneath. Does she really not know what’s going on here? Or is she just pretending?
Sarafina turns to Byron, her hardened gaze sharp enough to break stones. “I want the maze searched and investigated. I want to know who did this.”
The Faeling considers her demand with a grave nod and flies away.
A camera hovers right over Sarafina’s head as she unfolds a large blanket and wraps it over my shoulders. “What’s your name again?”
A cottony warmth cuddles me from all sides, and my tensed muscles sigh in relief, but I roll my eyes at the formality. Sarafina couldn’t have forgotten my name already, not after the scene I had caused at the ball.
“Lori.” I grunt, still shivering despite the effects of the enchanted blanket. “But you already knew that.”
Her pale blue eyes snap over to me, and I get the feeling she’d strangle me if she could. “Did you see anything out in the storm?”
