Frostbite

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"They've come, Eira," Gwen said, the instant they met eyes. Her words were hasty, expression urgent and borderline desperate. "You aren't safe here."

"I saw," Eira responded, hesitant. Unsure what to say. "I saw everything. They didn't see me but... it was close, I think." Close enough to leave her heart still pounding to that minute. The rush of their near escape still lingered in her body. Her blood surged through her veins, her heart pounded, her muscles tensed and ready to flee.

Gwen's brows knitted together. "Upon our return, one of Darrow's rebels was waiting at headquarters and informed us, though it's not as if it wasn't obvious something had happened from how the city appears, and... even in the snow, there's no hiding the bodies. We had our suspicions, so to speak, whilst walking back. The rebel told us he'd heard they'd sent two Frosts and a patrol of their most experienced guards. As soon as I heard that, I came to find you. Two against two may not be as bad, in the possibility they find us. We really must hurry to avoid it, though. This inn won't be safe much longer."

No hiding the bodies. Just how many had the Frosts killed since their arrival? How many innocents perceived to be insurgents from only few words of opposition? Eira knew how it went. She dared not ask Gwen just what the number was this time.

Gwen was looking at nothing but Eira, eye contact unmoving. The look in Gwen's eyes prompted a reply. Eira once more couldn't find the words.

Gwen definitely hadn't noticed Edan yet. Eira wasn't sure if he'd seen Gwen yet, either, since she'd not moved from her stance in the doorway. Eira wasn't sure whether she should notify her friend of his presence. She instinctively brought her teeth down onto her lip, considering it and coming to the conclusion that it ultimately was not her place to decide what would happen; the choice was down to Edan alone.

She brought herself back to focusing on Gwen, who was still looking for an answer, gaze unwavering. "I was waiting for nightfall," Eira explained. "The dark will make it easier to remain hidden, won't it?"

Gwen appeared to think it over. "Good idea." She glanced over her shoulder to the window on the opposite side of the hallway. The dusty orange light of dusk was beginning to filter through. "We can wait here for an hour or so, then. You should start gathering up your things."

Eira began to nod in agreement, but stopped midway and gave Gwen a sideways glance. "Weren't you supposed to be resting?"

Gwen laughed shortly. "With what's going on, is there really any time to be sleeping?"

Eira sighed. "I suppose there's not."

She could hear Edan inching ever closer. The floorboards creaked a couple of paces to her left. His breathing was audible, ragged, catching in his throat as he inhaled.

"G—Gwen," he murmured, so feebly that Eira barely caught it. She turned her head to get a good look at him. The colour was completely drained from his face, eyes wide enough that his whites formed a ring around his pupils, and his jaw was slack. His knees shook ever so slightly as he edged a half-step further, and Eira wasn't sure if that was because of his injury, or the disbelief of seeing Gwen alive, breathing, not dead.

Eira wondered if that was how she'd appeared on that night when she'd seen Gwen, impossibly walking and talking and doing things no corpse should ever. At least—at that time it had been impossible.

He put a hand on Eira's shoulder as if to brace himself, fingers digging into her flesh almost enough for her to yelp out in pain and flinch away from his touch. Eira clenched her jaw and didn't say anything. Instead, she drew her eyes over to Gwen.