Frostbite

Chapter Fourteen

Eira had been sitting in the gap between two buildings for nearly four days. She'd not been found, and it was likely the guards were giving up with that area. She was lucky. More times than she could count, she'd heard footsteps and thought for sure that she was done for. But, when there were none on patrol for her, she could come out and relax. Hopefully that would be soon. They could be gone for all she knew, but she would wait a few more hours to be sure. After all, all she was doing was relying on her intuition, not facts.

However, it would have to be soon. Her food ran out that morning and she didn't have much water left—maybe four mouthfuls at most. In addition, the air had grown colder every minute. Her clothes were thin and not suitable for sitting outside for such long periods of time. As time, shivered more and more. The only thing that kept her hanging on and not becoming hypothermic was the fact that she was of the Frost. But, as time wore on, she became less impervious to the cold. If you did not use your powers often, their protection waned to nothing.

It also didn't help that all the emotions she had been subconsciously suppressing had returned in a flood of her tears the night before.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she'd wept. "I'm sorry I left you."

The tears had dried up by the morning. Then, she just felt empty once again. Her stomach ached with hunger. She wondered if she would be able to walk if she took a trip to the communal well once night fell that she'd so carefully planned out all morning. She had just taken the last mouthful from her canteen. She supposed it would have lasted longer if she hadn't cried so much. It felt strange to berate herself for emotions she'd tried so hard to feel previously.

Once afternoon came, Eira felt weaker. Faint, even. Sometime between two and three o'clock, she heard footsteps approaching. Panic began to surge through her. If it was a guard, then she would have no means of escape, not to mention that she was sure her legs would barely work. She'd trapped herself in here.

The footsteps grew closer.

It might not even be a guard, she told herself. But it could be. She couldn't take risks and talk herself into believing it wasn't.

A man's head poked through the gap. Eira's eyes met with his immediately. He didn't appear to be wearing a guard's drab grey uniform. Instead, he wore the usual trousers, tunic, and thick jacket of a commoner. His hair was sandy blonde. Eira wasn't sure of his age—he could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty for all she knew.

"I thought I heard someone in here," he said. His voice wasn't intimidating. In fact, it was fairly soft. "I didn't think it would be a young girl like yourself, though. What are you doing in here?"

He didn't seem hostile. But, she would still answer his questions vaguely and bend the truth if necessary. There was always the chance that he was only acting nice so she would trust him. She couldn't risk being found out.

"I," Eira's voice came out hoarse, unused. She cleared her throat before continuing, "I don't have a home any more. My parents died of an illness years ago and I can't find any work." It was not a real lie.

"How old are you, miss?"

"Sixteen. I will be seventeen in the new year."

"Old enough for work, young enough to still be in school. Why are you in here of all places?"

"It was the best place I could find that was sheltered from the wind. My food ran out yesterday. I don't have the money to buy any more."

"What's your name?"

"Lowenna." Her mother's name.

"Hmm, say, if I gave you a room in the inn I own, would you work for me?" A room and a job? Convenient.