Snow Bites

Chapter Twelve

It was deathly quiet in the cottage. Outside the sun lit everything with a soft golden glow that did little to light the interior. Light footsteps echoed along the wooden floors.

Eirwen threw open one of the upstairs windows and took in a deep breath. A soft floral smell washed over her. "That's better," she said to herself as the light brightened the room behind her. The seven mages had left her for the day but she didn't mind the quiet. That night they would begin the celebrations. There would be dancing and music all night to ensure she worked out every bit of nervous energy welling up inside of her.

The next day would be reserved for meditation among all of them. It would be the last day with her curse, the last day her death could spell disaster. A wave of excitement lit up her face as she tied the last dark purple lace of her lavender dress. They'd promised her a dress befitting a princess for her birthday but tonight she at least had one of her mother's old dresses. Her smile widened as she thought of the care her mother had put into ensuring her daughter would have answers even if they couldn't be told to her in person.

Downstairs, a stew simmered over the fire. Fresh bread baked above it with pies ready to take their place in the small oven. She couldn't wait for her true birthday when she was free. Ezekiel had promised to return that day and take her home the next. Home to Grimhelde and Ryker and the home she had grown up in. Just thinking about it made her want to run there.

Something moved in the shadows just outside the open fields of the clearing. From the kitchen window, Eirwen could tell it was alive, but her weakening powers couldn't tell her much more. She took the large knife from her cutting boards and hesitantly moved towards the open door. Occasionally a lost soul will stumble upon the cottage, but they were easily persuaded to leave and a bit of magic would alter their memory.

Without the mages she could do little more than threaten or close the door, but it would have to do. Eirwen grabbed for the door and the knife clattered to the floor.

There, across the way, was Grimhelde. She moved forward as if approaching a wild animal but her shoulders dropped when she saw Eirwen hovering in the doorway. As if on instinct, they ran to each other and fell into a tight embrace.

"What are you doing here?" Eirwen asked, trying to hold back a sob.

Grimhelde pulled away to hold the girl at arm's length. Her brows furrowed and she sighed. "It's time I told you the truth, then maybe you will be able to forgive me and understand why I must do this."

"I already know, I know everything Heldie and I know that none of this is your fault," Eirwen said in a rush. She dragged the older woman inside to sit by the fire. "But none of that will matter soon enough." The fire crackled away as Eirwen hurried to get her a warm drink.

"You look so much like your mother," Grimhelde said softly.

Eirwen froze. She'd so rarely heard Grimhelde mention her mother, and never without Eirwen having to beg her. The sudden mention made her stop in the middle of putting together a meager bit of food for her guest. She followed Grimhelde's beckoning hand and sat on the floor in front of her. "Was she very pretty?"

"Not half as beautiful as you are. My but your hair is so tangled. Let me comb it," Grimhelde motioned for Eirwen to turn away from her and pulled a small silver comb from her dress. The red rubies along the top caught the firelight and made the light dance. Its fine teeth tugged at the knots but eventually smoothed them out.

"Sometimes I think I can remember her more clearly than I can," Eirwen whispered. She could barely remember the woman who'd written in the journal tucked away upstairs. The adventures she'd had before having Eirwen were unbelievable. Someday soon she'd tell Grimhelde about them and they'd have their own adventure.

The comb snagged at a rough patch near Eirwen's scalp and Grmhelde carefully pulled it through. "She put up a good act, playing the doting wife and loving mother all the while hiding her true monstrous form."

A shiver ran through Eirwen and her mouth fell open in shock. The comb scraped against her scalp and she pulled away so she could face Grimhelde. "She wasn't a monster."

"What else could you call her? You said you knew everything, so you should know about how horrible she was," she snapped. A little sigh escaped her as she rubbed her temples. The comb sat abandoned on the seat next to her. On its teeth was a faint sheen of blood. "I'd left home to avoid dealing with things like her but I only sent myself straight into a hunt."

Eirwen touched her scalp gingerly and felt the broken skin. "What do you mean a hunt?"

"I had to end her before she really caused any trouble," she answered without hesitation, her face covered by her hands. "And now I have to finish the job, though it kills me to do this." Grimhelde opened her arms to Eirwen who'd gone very pale.

A blue hue began to bleed into her lips and she fell into Grimhelde's arms without meaning to. She could do nothing to stop the woman from running the comb through her hair again. Slowly, her fingers went numb, her vision grew fuzzy. She could hear a humming as if from another room. With some effort she was able to recognize it as an old lullaby. "Why me? I've done nothing wrong?"

"Not yet, but you would, it's in your nature. Unfortunately the only way to truly kill you is after you've become a true blutsauger but I can't risk that." A warm hand fell on the princess's cheek as Grimhelde stroked her cheek. "This will make you sleep, and maybe one day someone will succeed where I have failed."

The humming began again and Eirwen's heavy eyelids fell shut. She wondered how long it would be till the seven men were home. Would they keep their promise and destroy her before she could turn? Part of her hoped they didn't. Eirwen would savor the look on Grimhelde's face when she came for her.