The Ruin of Snow

by Lacy Sheridan

  I swallowed. “Neyva.”

  For the first time in my life I left it at that. I added no family name to it.

  Just Neyva.

  I liked the sound of it.

  Eleven

  Rayick and Tamsin were hiding something.

  I knew that within twenty minutes of setting out for their camp, after the fourth discreet glimpse Tamsin gave Rayick, and the subtle shake of his head Rayick gave in return, and if I hadn’t been injured and desperate for shelter, I would have found a way to escape immediately. I was hiding things as well, but it was different to be on the other end. It made a cold seep into me that had nothing to do with the freezing night.

  I couldn’t leave and subject myself to a slow death in the middle of nowhere, so I searched for what innocent questions would pry them. Maybe their secret was a hazard, maybe not, but I needed to know either way.

  “What were you doing out here so late?” I asked, making my voice neutral. A casual conversation to fill the silence as we walked.

  Another silent conversation I pretended not to notice. “Hunting,” Rayick answered.

  “You don’t seem to have caught anything.”

  One corner of his lips quirked. “No, unfortunately. But we have food at the camp.”

  “Why are you out here at all?” A simple hunting trip was better suited for the summer.

  A pause. I waited, watching the towering columns of shadow formed by the trees pass us , like guards. “We live here,” Tamsin said when Rayick hesitated.

  That surprised me. I blinked and looked at Tamsin. He’d raised his hood again, letting shadow cover his face, but I felt his eyes on me. “You live here? In the forest?”

  “Yes.”

  “The two of you?”

  Rayick laughed under his breath. “Not just us, no. We—you’ll see. We’re about there.” He put a warm, broad hand on my back to guide me toward a shadowy overhang, heavy with dead and frozen plant life reaching to the ground. He had a way of speaking that made your blood warm, like summer was laced into his easy voice. Which was dangerous. Very dangerous.

  But for now, I welcomed the comfort of it.

  I ducked under the hanging tendrils, brittle and dark like limbs, and when my eyes adjusted I saw an opening in the rock. A cave. Tension tightened my belly, but Rayick led us into it. I drew a stinging breath and followed. There was a glow within, visible once we rounded the first rough crag jutting from a wall, and I saw it was more than a cave—a tunnel, narrow for the first several yards before opening into a wide expanse and heading further into the earth. The scent of frost and wood smoke, cooking meat and old leather drifted through the warming air. The lanterns hung on the walls sent light and shadows leaping across stone worn smooth by time.

  “What is this place?” I asked, my voice hushed.

  Rayick shot me a grin, eyes twinkling. “Home.”

  “Something ran through here, a long time ago,” Tamsin added by way of explanation. “A river, maybe. Wore it down to a series of tunnels. There’s no water left now, just the caves. It’s dry, sheltered, easy to keep warm.” I had a feeling by the way he said tunnels, they were not easy to navigate.

  A perfect place if one wanted to live in the middle of a forest. A natural home that would function without drawing any attention. Perfect for people who wanted to disappear.

  I noted the path we’d taken from the entrance.

  After enough turns that I supposed they suspected I’d be lost, Rayick stopped where the tunnel forked and held up one hand. A signal for us to wait as he checked the path that curved out of sight. I watched Tamsin in my periphery, waiting for him to move. He didn’t. Muffled voices came beyond the corner, the words indistinct, and they brought an uneasy shift in Tamsin’s posture.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, the picture of sweet, womanly concern. His eyes flicked toward me, and he stayed silent.

  When Rayick returned, his expression said whoever he’d spoken to had ruffled him, but he beckoned to follow him with a quick jerk of his head. I did. “Aurynn’s not in the best of moods,” he warned as we turned into a wider tunnel, a hollow lit with a crackling fire, smoke curling to escape through a thin opening far above us. Logs fashioned seats around it, furs became rugs and blankets.

  Perched on a seat, one leg beneath her, sat a woman who must have been Aurynn. She was all sinew and lithe muscle, wearing pants, tall boots, and a loose shirt, her light hair—I couldn’t tell if it was a pale red-blonde, or the fire was throwing an orange cast across it—was cut rough and flat at her shoulders. She was bent over a length of rope, twisting it into knots, and looked up without raising her head. Her eyes were the color of a frozen lake in the sun, and as cold.

  “You’re the stray Rayick brought home, then?” she asked.

  I fought the creeping annoyance at her tone and forced my nod to remain hesitant, forced a questioning peek at Rayick. He shook his head and guided me to a seat away from her.

  “She’s angry I killed a couple wolves,” he crossed to a bag tucked in a corner, digging through it.

  “I know those wolves, if you bother to remember,” Aurynn growled. “Which did you kill?”

  “You act as if I’d know. And they did attack us,” he added, gesturing to his wounded shoulder, supplies in hand.

  I’d forgotten. He hadn’t been favoring the arm and the blood had dried during our walk so it didn’t appear serious, but I asked anyway, “You are alright, aren’t you?”

  He smiled again and knelt in front of me. “Just a scratch.” He held out a hand and I extended mine. My attention flicked from him to Aurynn to Tamsin—leaning against a wall, silent and watching—as he unwrapped the cloth and wet a fresh one to clean the bite. I managed to stifle all but the first wince as he dragged it across my ruined skin.

  “You know the wolves?” I asked Aurynn.

  She gauged my intent before she answered, “Yes. The same way Rayick knows the bears and Tam knows the wildcats.”

  Tamsin stiffened and Rayick’s shoulders tensed. There was a beat of silence, and then the fighter murmured, “We hadn’t…gotten to that yet, Aurynn.”

  I took a breath to keep worry from shooting through me and then looked between the three of them. “Gotten to what?”

  “Our curse.” It was a new voice that answered, and I twisted in my seat to see a third man entering the little cavern. He showed no surprise to find me there, though I couldn’t imagine anybody had time to warn him of my presence, but he also looked tired enough that perhaps he didn’t particularly care. He carried a heavy-looking bag across one shoulder, worn at the seams and with a few spots that suspiciously resembled blood—a game bag, I guessed, from the knives on his belt and bow across his back. “Aurynn, go find someone to help me clean these, would you?”

  Aurynn tossed aside her rope—half-made snares—and stood, slipping around him. “Don’t let the stray bite anyone,” she shot over her shoulder.

  “She’ll be friendlier when you’ve gone a night without slitting our throats in our sleep,” Rayick assured me and patted my hand. “There. Good as new.”

  I mumbled a thanks, checking his work as he stood—not impeccable, but as good as I could expect in such a situation, and good enough to keep out infection—and then stood myself to face the newcomer. “What curse?”

  Rayick answered, giving me a half-amused, half-grim little smile. “Where do you think the bear went?”

  I hadn’t thought about it, not truly. I’d been too distracted by the immediate danger, and when the bear had left my sight it had ceased to be that. The question hit me like a wall, and I stopped, looking at him.

  “You.” Not a question, but he nodded. I shifted to Tamsin. “You were the wildcat.”

  “Don’t remind me,” he muttered.

  The third man broke in, eyes fixed on me. “As long as we stand in the sun, we’re a part of the forest. Down here, even in midday, we’re human, but the direct light—does something to us. And it’s gotten worse, taking lo
nger to let us change back.”

  I knew magic like that, or had read and heard about it. A nasty curse, a slow descent into insanity as they lost who they were. “Eventually you won’t be human at all,” I said. He nodded.

  “How did you get a curse like that?”

  “It’s a bit of a long story. Idris,” he introduced himself, slinging the bag onto the ground and holding out a dirt-encrusted hand. A few days ago, I would have refused such an offer with disgust, but now I didn’t hesitate to take it. Circumstances had changed; I’d adapt or die.

  “Neyva.”

  “How did you get yourself tangled up with these two, Neyva?”

  “They helped me sort out a situation.” I watched him as he crossed the cavern, studying him. He moved like someone used to hardship: fluid, powerful, confident, but not boastful about it. He was perfectly understated. His build was strong—not the towering, unmovable silhouette of Rayick, but well-trained. Or, judging by the lines that very hardship had etched into his strong features, well-punished. They made him look far older than I felt he was.

  It was the rings pierced through his flesh that caught in the light and stole my attention. The first, driven through his lower lip slightly crooked and off-center, as if the person who had done it had taken one drink too many to prepare himself, was impossible to miss. There were plenty of far-off villages and tribal lands that maintained the unsavory tradition, and at first I searched for the names and locations of them. Anything that might tell me more about Idris than he was willing to voice. Then when he moved his head, auburn hair parting to let the light flash on two more positioned at the upper curve of his ear, I stepped closer.

  Three. Maybe the work of some barbaric tribe, but with that fair skin and clipped Selliiran accent—a touch rougher than my own—I doubted it.

  “Situation?” he echoed, glancing to Rayick and Tamsin for explanation.

  Tamsin shrugged. “Some hungry wolves. It’s taken care of.”

  I widened my eyes, smoothing a small tear in my skirt. “They were very helpful. I might have been mauled without them.”

  Rayick’s chest puffed up, and Tamsin was flustered by the comment, looking away, but Idris was having none of the act. He straightened and faced me, crossing his arms. “Well, I’m glad they could be of help, but I’m sorry to tell you we’re not in any place to take guests. If you can’t tell for yourself, our supplies are a little lacking.”

  I didn’t drop the pretense. Men always helped an innocent, lost girl, and giving up that image would mean I’d lose it forever. “I only need a few days to sort out where I’m going. I won’t disturb your work, whatever it is. I promise.”

  He took a step toward me, eyes like the sky on a cloudy day. Unending and knowing. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure. You’ll have no trouble finding shelter until you get out of these woods.”

  He was right about that; I was smart enough to find shelter. It had been born in me, drilled into me. But this was about more than that. Katherine was dead, and that meant the hunt would get worse. If Mother truly wanted me dead, she would stop at nothing, and though she seemed content to use the servants as puppets, at any moment she could change her mind. I couldn’t very well announce my problem to Idris and his people, but I could work them in my favor. If I could past their leader—and, judging by the easy, unquestioned order he’d tossed to Aurynn to get her out of the way, Idris was just that.

  “You wouldn’t send a lone woman out into the cold and dark, would you? Even for a man who lives in a cave, that sounds harsh.”

  He hesitated but didn’t look away. “You’ll leave at first light.”

  “Four days. I’ll hunt my own food.”

  “Two.”

  I stepped closer and raised one eyebrow, searching his face. I knew I was letting the pretense slip, but it was necessary; he was stubborn. “Or, Idris, you let me use your caves for as long as I need, and for your trouble I break your curse.”

  “Why do you need our caves? And what makes you think you can possibly break the curse?”

  “For safety and shelter, of course,” I said with the sweetest smile I could manage. It was the same smile I gave to the older men who asked my mother how my courtship was going: as empty as the winter sky and perfect enough to spread whispers. “As far as your curse goes—I’ve worked with curses all my life. Give me the details, let me gather a few supplies, and I can break it.”

  A lie. A complete and total lie; though I worked at a high level and had spotty experience in magic more advanced than my usual forte, I had no idea if I could break whatever was plaguing them. It may have been simple, or something far more complex than was worth trying. That was without the question of whether they were people I wanted to be curse-free. There were too many details unknown, details that could go wrong; I doubted I’d attempt to break it even if I did know how.

  Idris didn’t know that. He didn’t need to.

  “What kind of supplies do you need?” he asked.

  “Most likely a few things I can find in the woods. It will be trickier, since it’s winter, but there’s a good chance I can make it work. If not, a trip to the nearest city should get me anything else I need. I can’t say how long it will take, but I’ve done it before. Shapeshifting curses are nasty, but the last one I worked against was gone by the next morning. A man in Praidiff. Cursed to spend his nights as a rat.”

  He studied my face, searching for the lie, but I knew he found none. I wouldn’t let him. After a tense moment, he held out a hand again, a smile playing at his lips. “If you help us, we’ll give you any shelter you need.”

  I paused. “You aren’t afraid of living with a witch?”

  “I’ve lived with worse.” I took his hand, and the smile came out. “Welcome to the family, Neyva.”

  Twelve

  Rayick was right; Aurynn’s mood improved after I failed to kill them in their sleep.

  If only marginally.

  She didn’t quite glare at me as we breakfasted with simple dried meat, Rayick between us to fill the quiet with endless conversation about the weather, his and Tamsin’s hunting exploits, and whatever else ran through his head. Whether he was trying to avert our attention from the obvious tension or was clueless to it I couldn’t tell, but I couldn’t deny that his endless good cheer lightened my own mood a fraction. The fires and lanterns made the caves almost homey, warmer and cozier than I would have ever expected from a series of underground tunnels, and they’d clearly put an effort into making them so; furs were added to their bedding, and makeshift furniture was set up in almost every cave. I’d found no trace of danger so far.

  Even so, I had set protections around the entire perimeter of the little hollow I’d slept in, and my sleep had been far from easy.

  “Is Tamsin awake?” another woman asked through a yawn as she wandered into the cave and dug through the semi-organized supplies for a cup. She was a petite woman with supple olive skin and masses of jet-black waves, who spoke with the lyrical accent of somewhere south of Selliira—I took note of every detail I could. She straightened and paused, eyes locked on me, then looked to the others.

  “This is Neyva,” Rayick supplied. “Neyva, Enaelle. Neyva is going to break the curse.”

  “Yes, Idris is apparently striking deals with witches now,” Aurynn added. “And does Tamsin ever sleep?”

  “Not with a witch around,” Enaelle replied, and then regarded me with a tentative but warm smile. “Nothing against you, of course. Being cursed doesn’t make one fond of witches.”

  “I understand,” I said and tore a piece of meat off. “How did the curse happen?”

  There was a collective flinch that told me it was a topic not to be discussed, not yet. Rayick answered. “We made a mistake. Now we pay the price.”

  It was a harsh price, one that made me more curious. I knew better than to push, not when Aurynn was tearing into her breakfast with a ferocity it didn’t deserve, and Enaelle was staring into her water. I’d bring it out of
them, eventually.

  Silence fell and then Aurynn got to her feet. “If you’re going to stay, make yourself useful,” she said to me. “Maybe use that magic of yours to help us survive the winter. Unless witches are less prone to starvation than the rest of us.”

  “Is breaking the curse not useful enough?” Rayick asked, the barest edge to his tone.

  “The last one couldn’t.” Tamsin appeared in the entrance as Aurynn reached it, wide eyes fixed on me beneath stray pieces of sleep-tousled dark hair.

  Aurynn spoke without looking at him. “Come help me check the snares, Tam.”

  He followed her without a word, attention lingering on me for as long as possible before putting me at his back, and the cave was left in a ringing silence.

  I hadn’t intended to cause such friction within their group, though I couldn’t say how much of it had existed beforehand, but there was always the opportunity for it to work in my favor. I hadn’t decided what to do about them yet; for the moment I was happy to live among them while I made plans for my family. If I at any point felt the need to break them down from within, it wouldn’t be difficult, I could see. And if not—well, I had charmed plenty of people who hated or feared the Morningspell name. A wolf-woman trapped in the middle of a winter-barren forest wouldn’t be much of a challenge.

  “Don’t mind Aurynn,” Enaelle said with another smile. “We’re grateful you’re willing to try to help us. She’s a hunter, and this winter is harsh, and she feels it more than the rest of us. It isn’t easy trying to live here. A little stress is bound to come out.”

  I looked at my breakfast rather than at her, lowering my voice. “I shouldn’t have intruded. I’m sorry.”

  Rayick shook his head. “No. No, we invited you. And you are working against the curse, of course you should ask where it came from.”

  Nothing but reassurance, at least two trusted me. I smiled, standing. “I’ll leave you two to your breakfast. I’d like to search for anything I can use, now that it’s daylight.”