Frostbite

Chapter Eighteen

Eira didn't miss work the next morning. How could she? She needed all the money she could get her hands on. To live. It was folly for Kea to suggest that she just abandoned it. He'd had good intentions, though. Maybe. She wasn't actually sure.

Since she'd woken, it felt as if there was a large weight upon her shoulders, weighing down her every step. It was oppressive, suffocating. But still she pushed on.

At least those thoughts had left her head. More or less. There there was still the occasional relapse. Nothing she couldn't handle, however.

By some stroke of luck, the inn was quieter than usual. Not that it was ever lively, but today there had only been one or two customers.

Its emptiness was likely due to the fact that today—for the first time in probably months—was a sunny day. And when the weather was nice like that, people tended to enjoy it while it lasted. Even if it was freezing cold outside.

It was just Eira's luck that she was cooped up in a dingy, windowless kitchen washing dishes. Or maybe not; it wasn't like she had anyone to spend it with.

The last time there had been a nice, actually warm, day, it had been on a Sunday afternoon at the academy in summer that had just passed. She and Edan had spent it sitting outside on the grass in front of the dormitories, doing some overdue studying. That was also the last time Eira had felt at peace, albeit falsely. Nowadays she spent almost every waking moment stressing. Stressing that the plan she'd made would fail and she would never find Cerin. Stressing that she had practically compromised her entire existence with those rash decisions she'd made last month. Stressing that she'd be ratted out and be found by the guards and then be taken back to the academy or worse—and likelier—disposed of on the spot. Nonetheless, she did know that the more time she spent worrying, the less she would have to actually do something.

The few customers that had been in had spent their time fervently discussing the upcoming festivities. They spoke of how it was only one week until Yule—an annual festival where people celebrated the darkest day of the year. The news hit a little close to home. It reminded her that the next day was Cerin's birthday, a fact that had drifted far into the depths of her mind. He would be seventeen. It pained her that she wouldn't be able to spend it with him. Eira didn't care much for Yule, though. It just reminded her of times past. Carefree days that she would never be able to return to. But she wanted to do something on Cerin's birthday. Even if he was somewhere far out of reach, it was still a special day, if only for her own sentimentality.

Absentmindedly, Eira wondered if he would be by her side when her own birthday came around in just over a month. It was wishful thinking to believe it.

But still, there was a chance that she could find him. Somehow. Even if it was one in a million, a billion, or even more, there was still a chance.

Would she cling to that chance, even if it could easily betray her? Would she hope, even if it could be her undoing?

She didn't know. She couldn't know

Hope was a double edged blade.

~

Eira approached Al in question of a holiday.

"Actually," said Al, "I was just about to inform you about it. You have the days leading up to Yule off, starting tomorrow. But on the day itself, since I'm always shorthanded on festival days, I'll have to ask you back to work."