Winterskin (Book One of Wrath & Winter)

They Come at Night: Part Four

It was just like them to take forever to do damn near anything.

Tangerine splashed across the horizon was a signal for most of them. Smoke scuttling out of windows in Montbereau, wheezing out of chimneys for those with the funds and time to build the stacks. With the sun listing lazily behind sky-high birches and winter-dead cedars, farmers left for the night with nothing in their baskets but dirt, regret, and bone-numbing cold.

I blew into my hands. Clapped them together and rubbed.

"You taking the late watch?" one of Magni's men asked me, kicking at dirt and snow with the chipped head of his old iron ax.

"Yeah."

"What do you think the footprint means?"

Fuckall if the Guard doesn't care. "Probably some kids. You know." I shrugged.

"Nah, Maeva. Something tells me-something tells me it's sinister." Snow and ice crunched, "You keep safe out here. And warm."

I grunted my reply.

The soft rhythmic chimes of spades and picks plunking against the earth eventually whittled away into a few distant ringings as more and more left the farms and hobbled their way back to their homes. It wasn't unusual for me to keep the late watch, someone needed to watch the fires and make sure the Guard fed the torches before the moon rose.

This time, though, it was more than making sure the torches were fed. I needed to know where that footprint came from. Make sure that I didn't need to move Gram and the girls closer to Montbereau again.

My throat tightened. Eyes burning. Jaw locking.

And if that footprint belonged to the thing that took their brother...

Fire-lit heat. Breath soaring into my throat. Eyes wide.

"You know they can smell when you're starving, right?"

I spun around, ax in hand. Unclipped torch in the other.

Orange light danced in pale sapphire eyes. A wide smirk touched his face.

"That isn't funny. That's never funny."

Snow-white hair stricken with bolts of obsidian fluttered around his handsome face, kissed by wind and snow. He stood an entire head taller than me, but with my heart pounding and my feet in a wide warrior's stance I felt every bit as tall.

And then I felt tiny.

"Thought you'd be hungry." He said, offering me half a loaf of gold heaven. "Didn't steal from anyone," he joked, "made it myself."

My stomach tightened as I took it. Warm and flaky, the crust buttered and golden. "Eli," I groaned, "thank you, but...," it was always the same dance with us. I'd be on watch late and he would find me. Threaten me with food and smiles and awful jokes.

With a smile full of sharp charm and jagged teeth, he patted my shoulder. Tensed and pulled back, "Always cold as death," he remarked, shaking his head. Passing me, he dropped down next to the torch pole. "Have a seat, Kat. Relax."

"Magni found a footprint." I told him, leaning against the pole, torch back in its rightful place, "A human one."

"Just the one?" he shrugged, though not as fluidly as he often does.

"Elisedd."

A sigh as heavy as thunder-wind. He turned slightly, giving me a jaded side-eye, "You know I can't tell you."

"At least tell me if it's your people."

He faced the forest again. Shook his head to the negative.

My shoulders dropped. Dropping down into the snow, our knees touched as I took mouse sized bites of the bread.

It was heaven. It was warm snow. It was the past and everything in between.

If I could forget my post and go. If I could let Gram and the girls live on their own in this frozen wasteland of a home...

It's always tempting when he comes. Silently demanding I watch the sunset and engorge myself on dragon-baked bread.

I stopped eating a third of the way into the loaf and wrapped it up with a strip of cloth. These thoughts are wrong. Sitting here on the edge of the world with one of Them is wrong. But Elisedd has always been a good friend to me. A loyal one to the family.

He stood as well. Still, no one had come to replace me. "Deliver this to the girls."

"You can't stand out here all by yourself...,"

"Don't start."

"Seriously, Kat. What kind of-"

"They're starving." I practically begged, "Please give that to them." And leave me be.

He's handsome like that. When he's searching.

It goes unsaid that They find us dirty. That they see us as lower than the bugs that scuttle out of the way of their boots. But he still touches my temple. Pretends the soft caress is all business as he slides a bit of hair that's gotten free of its chignon behind my ear. Large hand lingering on my cheek until I look away. Force myself to, anyway.

Fire and burning wood mingled on his breath. "I'll be back."

"I'll be relieved soon." I yanked my ax from its spot in the snow, glowered beyond the torchlight, "You shouldn't bother."