Frostbite

Chapter Twenty-Five

It wasn't often that luck was on Eira's side. She was unlucky when she needed it the most, but somehow that night seemed to be the opposite.

They'd managed to flee the grounds undetected, disappearing into the woods like wraiths. They had what they'd come for and hadn't been caught. Eira would have felt triumphant if two of their companions didn't lie in pools of their own blood, last memories the cruel bite of a polished sword. It would have felt like a success.

But Tanwyn and Garey's deaths weighed down everyone's shoulders, dampening any sense of relief they may have had otherwise.

Eira felt sick every time she lingered on the images of their broken bodies too long.

Loss had been a possibility, they'd all known that, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. Especially for Gwen. Eira could see the guilt in her eyes reflected in the silvery moonlight.

She probably felt responsible for it.

Eira wanted to say something to her. Some words of comfort. Anything. But every time she tried to speak, her tongue tied itself in knots and she couldn't form the words. What if she said the wrong thing and just made it worse? After going over it for several minutes, she ended up eventually giving up.

They reached the cabin Gwen had told them about just as a cloud began to pass over the moon. It left them in complete darkness, having to fumble their way inside. From the glimpse Eira had got before, the cabin was a old looking thing, weather-beaten and beginning to rot. It would keep them dry, though. And warm. Warmth was the priority.

The journey had taken longer than it should have, since Eira and Kea were weighed down with Gwen—who still didn't have the strength to walk without aid. She still shuddered beneath Eira's touch. Being out in the cold hadn't done her any good.

At least they'd managed to make it there. It was a small victory.

Eira didn't feel victorious. Nobody did.

~

Two hours later, Eira sat on the floor of the cabin in silence. She stared into the fire they'd built with logs from the its dusty woodpile, thinking of nothing much at all. The fire roared, despite being small, and emitted enough heat to warm Gwen back up.

Gwen was supine on the floor beside the hearth, breathing deeply. After her shivering had tailed off, she'd eventually fallen into a soundless sleep. Eira was beside her, knees to her chest. She herself hadn't had a wink of sleep. It was likely she wouldn't at all, so she'd given up attempting to some time ago.

Eira didn't know where the others had got to. Frankly, she was too tired to care. And she was trying to put off the inevitable conversation she would have with Kea.

She knew what she'd chosen to do earlier, and what it meant. She hadn't cared. And even now it was a decision she did not regret. They would have been dead otherwise, after all.

But now countless guards were in their place.

She willed herself not to think of that. Eira thought if she did her sanity might start to ebb away.

She hoped to God she hadn't been mistaken in trusting Kea. She was prepared to do what was necessary to protect her identity if he acted against her, yes, but that didn't mean she wanted to in any way. Even though she'd initially disliked him, he wasn't as bad as she'd thought. And in a purely opportunistic sense, it would be beneficiary to have him on her side; he was probably the one closest to Darrow in the whole rebel group.

As these thoughts swam through her head, Eira somehow managed to slip into sleep. It was unusually deep, brought on only by her body forcing it upon her.