VIGNETTE
Liesl
SEVEN WEEKS EARLIER…
Liesl pressed herself against the rock wall, trying to calm her panting breaths.
She might not have noticed the narrow crevice if not for Puss, but that didn’t mean the bandit would miss it.
Especially if he saw the tail of her cloak as she slipped inside; she didn’t exactly blend in with the white landscape.
Steadying herself with her staff, she carefully leaned forward to peer out. Her pursuer jogged into sight, then slowed. He set his hands on his hips, turning in a slow circle before releasing a string of words that made her ears burn.
Two men scrambled over a rock from the other direction and joined him, but they spoke too quietly for her to hear. While Liesl watched, they spread out, searching the area.
What rotten luck.
Turning away from the opening, she eyed the narrow path behind her.
Exploring it would keep her warm. And if the crevice didn’t vanish into the mountainside, perhaps it would lead her to someone who could help.
It might be too late by the time she retraced her steps, but she felt sick to her stomach when she thought of Keenan fighting two men on his own.
She never should have let him join her search for Tobias.
The path didn’t disappear, instead widening after about fifteen minutes. If she didn’t know better, she would have said it was a road carved through the mountains. But it looked old, not like something recently begun and abandoned.
Why had it not been completed?
Curious, she picked up her pace, eager to see what lay on the other end.
A pitiful mew reached her ears, so she paused to scoop up the cat from the several inches of snow under their feet. “It’s all right, Puss,” she murmured. “You found a good spot for us; the scary men won’t find us here.”
She kept walking with the cat snuggled in her arms. And walking. And walking.
Was she going to walk clear back to Daraigh before she found the end?
Suddenly, the cliff walls on either side of her disappeared. A wide, lush valley stretched out before her full of vibrant colors, as if spring had already come to this hidden world. Surprised, she looked down at the snow surrounding her feet, then up at the tall grass waving in a gentle breeze.
“Curious,” she murmured.
Puss struggled in her arms. Liesl ignored her, trotting forward to investigate. A strange tingle ran over her skin as she crossed from snow to spring, but she was too busy gawking at her surroundings to worry about it.
Even the air was warmer. It was impossible; it shouldn’t have had such an abrupt change. It was like stepping from the outside into a building warmed by a fireplace.
Setting Puss down, Liesl pulled off her hood and pushed the cloak off her shoulders, then lifted her face to the bright, cheerful sunshine.
As she walked, the grass gave way to a tangled mass of wild roses. Liesl’s heart ached as her eyes fell on the beautiful flowers. They used to be her favorite.
Now, she could hardly bear to look at them.
Turning her face away, she moved to explore farther, but a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks.
“Do not touch the roses.”
Liesl froze. No man could growl like that.
But what other than a human could talk at all?
Suddenly, her feet were flying back toward the mountain pass.
She didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember the scream echoing in her ears.
But the after-image of that horrifying face danced in her vision, like the branching fingers after a flash of lightning.
There wasn’t a rational thought in her head, only the frantic instinct to flee.
The opening was just ahead. There was the snow piled against the unnatural boundary, the same as she’d left it. She stretched her legs, reaching for the perceived safety—
And found herself sitting on the ground. Her backside ached, but she barely acknowledged it as she scrambled to her feet, her wide eyes fixed on the monster approaching her.
Puss twined around her legs, mewing insistently. Liesl ignored her, watching the terrible creature as a corner of her mind began to reawaken. He moved slowly, looking as if he didn’t wish to spook her.
“You can’t leave,” he said, his voice a gentle rumble this time. “The magic won’t allow it.”
“Magic?” she parroted, idly noticing the breathy quality of her panting voice. “What magic? Why won’t you let me go?”
He watched her silently, refusing to answer the question.
“Who are you?” she challenged, holding her staff in both hands. The fear still pounded through her veins, but being trapped had flipped her from flight to fight. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” He looked away. “And you may call me…Beast.”
THE END