Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Lost in the Snow
Shelter in the Storm
By the time the last of the prisoners had been found and bound, the snow began falling in earnest.
Dravic glanced toward the sky. The gray that had lingered there throughout the day had deepened, the clouds hanging low over the forest.
“We need to return to Caerith,” he ordered, knowing how a fast-falling snowfall could trap them.
The prisoners were placed on horses and secured while Dravic’s warriors gathered around them. Adira remained beside him, still wrapped in his cloak, and when one of the men brought the horse forward, he motioned for her to approach.
She looked at the horse, then at him.
Dravic pointed to the saddle.
Adira understood and reached for it, but the king caught her around the waist and lifted her onto the horse before mounting behind her.
The snow fell heavier as they started through the forest.
The flakes caught in Adira’s hair and melted against her cheeks. She tipped her face upward, watching them fall, and Dravic found his attention lingering on her longer than it should.
Her face was flushed, her green eyes a bit brighter in color instead of their usual softness, and her breathing was finally calming.
She had been frightened and even though she had no voice to call out for help nor could she hear if anyone pursued her, she still had had courage enough to attempt an escape.
Forest debris stuck to strands of her long red hair that had broken loose from her braid, and he quickly snatched a few out and tossed them aside.
A quick smile surfaced but was replaced just as quickly with a silent wince.
He saw that the red mark on her cheek was beginning to bruise and anger rumbled through him. It had taken a hard blow to leave such a mark behind, and he was going to make sure that whoever dared to touch her suffered greatly for it.
The wind began to strengthen along with the snow. It swept through the trees in thick waves, quickly erasing the tracks left by those riding ahead of them.
Dravic wrapped his cloak more securely around himself and Adira, then tightened his arm at her waist.
She glanced up at him, he pointed ahead, and she followed his gesture. The warriors who had been riding only a short distance in front of them were barely visible.
Dravic urged his horse faster. The animal resisted briefly before obeying his command.
The snow continued to thicken until the riders ahead became nothing more than dark shapes that quickly disappeared.
Dravic reined in the horse and yelled out to his men to respond, but the wind carried his shout away.
Adira felt his shout. It rode up in his chest with force, and she hurried to look at him, knowing something was wrong.
Dravic shouted again but again no answer came.
He looked behind them. Snow filled the forest in every direction, falling so heavily that even the trees several yards away were difficult to see.
He had been caught in such a fast and heavy snowfall when he was young.
He had survived it and he would make sure he and Adira survived this one.
Adira watched his face, worry settling over her. She touched his arm.
Dravic looked down at her.
She pointed around them and lifted her brow.
He understood. “We are alone.”
Adira could not hear him, but his expression told her enough.
Dravic looked into the storm. He could attempt to find the others, but without seeing their tracks he risked going deeper into the forest and farther from Caerith.
The horse shifted uneasily beneath them.
Dravic wasted no more time weighing options. They needed shelter.
He wrapped his arm more firmly around Adira, then he urged the horse into the storm.
Snow lashed at them from every direction, the wind driving it between the trees with such force that Dravic was forced to lower his head against it.
The horse labored through the deepening drifts, each step slower than the last.
Adira clutched at the king’s tunic, feeling the strain in his body as he guided the horse. She looked up at him.
His jaw was set tight and his eyes searched through the swirling white.
She followed his gaze but saw little beyond the curtain of snow.
A sudden gust struck them broadside.
The horse lurched, its front hoof slipping beneath it before it caught itself. Adira grabbed hold of the king, and his arm tightened instinctively around her.
He steadied the horse with a quiet command before looking once again into the storm.
Nothing. No warriors. No prisoners. Not even the tiny flash of gold that had followed them through the forest.
“Fiora,” he muttered.
Even the fairy had vanished into the storm and the realization settled heavily on him. If he could not see one of his own warriors only yards away, he had no hope of finding them now.
Another blast of wind drove the snow into his face.
The horse tossed its head and snorted.
Dravic leaned close to its neck, speaking calmly as he guided it forward. “We’ll find shelter.”
The words were meant as much for the horse as for himself.
Time lost all meaning. The forest became an endless blur of white and dark trunks until…
He thought he spotted something. But it vanished, then appeared again moments later.
A roofline, barely visible through the snow.
Dravic narrowed his eyes, steering the horse toward it. As they drew closer, the outline of a small stone cottage emerged from the storm. Relief eased some of the tension in his shoulders.
No smoke curled from the cottage chimney. It stood empty, half hidden beneath the snow, its heavy wooden door weathered but still sound. Along one side stood a rough lean-to, sheltered from the wind.
Dravic directed the horse beneath it and saw a rack stacked with dry hay beside neatly piled firewood. Someone had prepared the place, and he realized it was most likely one of the shelters scattered through the forests kept ready for weary travelers and truth seekers.
He dismounted, then reached up and lifted Adira off the horse, then settled her by the cottage wall.
He gestured for her to stay put, and she nodded.
He got busy tending to the horse and, once done, he rubbed the animal’s neck in thanks for carrying them safely through the storm, then spread a generous armful of hay for him.
Once finished, he slipped his cloak off Adira, then draped it over his shoulders and tucked her beneath it, close to his side. He hurried them along the wall of the cottage to the door.
Dravic shoved against the heavy wooden door. It resisted at first, then gave way with a groan.
A rush of stale, cold air greeted them.
He ushered Adira inside before pulling the door shut against the wind. Silence settled over the cottage. Though the bitter chill lingered, it was a welcome relief from the biting snow.
The single-room shelter was sparsely furnished. A sturdy table and two chairs stood near a cold stone hearth. A narrow bed rested against one wall, while shelves held a few clay bowls, an iron pot, and a battered kettle. Near the hearth, neatly stacked firewood waited beside a basket of kindling.
Dravic turned to Adira. Snow clung to her hair and lashes, and despite the shelter, she shivered beneath his cloak.
He slipped his arm around her and guided her to the chair nearest the hearth.
Before settling her there, he slipped off his cloak and arranged it over her shoulders.
It was massive on her, leaving enough room to tuck it around her.
Cocooned in his cloak, he settled her in the chair.
She looked up at him and smiled softly.
Relief. He saw it in her gentle smile and something else in her eyes.
Safe.
She felt safe and he would make sure to keep her safe. But she also needed warmth, they both did. He left her side to get a fire going in the hearth.
The fire slowly gathered strength, its warmth pushing back the chill that had settled inside the cottage. Dravic remained kneeling before the hearth a moment longer, adding another log before the flames had a chance to falter. Satisfied it would burn steadily, he rose and turned.
Adira sat wrapped in his cloak, her hands tucked beneath its folds.
The warmth had already brought a touch of color back to her cheeks, though a few damp strands of hair still clung to her face.
Firelight danced softly across her features, drawing his attention in a way he found difficult to explain.
She was watching him.
Not because she waited for instructions or reassurance. She simply watched him, her gaze calm and steady, as though being alone together required nothing more than sharing the same quiet.
He found himself standing there longer than intended.
Outside, the wind battered the cottage walls and sent snow scraping across the roof, but within the small shelter the fire crackled gently between them.
It was the first time since Adira had entered his life that no one demanded his attention.
No council waited. No warriors stood ready for orders. No duties called him elsewhere.
There was only Adira… and the unexpected peace of her company.
Adira rose, leaving his cloak draped over the chair. She touched her fingertips to her lips, then mimed drinking.
Dravic watched, understanding her meaning without difficulty.
She turned toward the shelves lining the wall.
She reached for a small earthen crock on the upper shelf, her blouse growing taut at her waist.
Dravic’s attention settled on the narrow curve of her waist. A waist his arm had circled more than once that day and other days as well. A waist he had taken no notice of until now.
The thought came unbidden and he frowned.
Why should such a thing matter?
Adira lifted the lid from the crock and smiled faintly as the familiar scent of crushed herbs drifted into the room. She selected a small cauldron from the shelf, turned, and headed for the door, intending to step outside long enough to fill it with fresh snow.
She never reached the door. His hand closed over hers on the iron handle.
“Nay,” he said, shaking his head.