Page 50 of Blood Beneath the Snow

“Very well.” He turned to me. “If you wander and get lost again, I may not be back in time to find you before you freeze.”

I opened my mouth, a fiery retort on my tongue, but he extended his arm to the soldier, and they disappeared in a blink.

“Well…”

My voice trailed off. I looked around the space, slowly taking in everything I could see. The fireplace on my left; the entrance to the rest of the prison directly in front of me, nothing more than a spot of darkness against the flickering lanterns; to the right, the table with its two chairs and the wall shelves.

He was gone.

I glanced toward the room’s exit and pondered whether to try the maze of hallways again. It didn’t appear to be a promising endeavor. Either the Hellbringer was telling the truth and there honestly wasn’t an accessible exit, or the winding interior was so convoluted, he didn’t think I’d ever find my way out.

I sighed. My limbs were weak from my earlier attempt. Trying again would kill me.

My stomach gurgled and I realized how hungry I was. When was the last time I had eaten? Had I been here for a whole day?

With no captor to keep a watchful eye on me, I got up from the bed to explore the shelves of containers. Maybe one of them would have something familiar I could snack on.

When I put all of my weight on my knees, they buckled without warning, sending me to the ground. I groaned, my head and wrists throbbing where they had connected with solid rock. “Stupid knees,” I muttered. I forced myself to rise again, keeping a hand on the bed, and was able to support my own weight this time, albeit shakily.

“You can do this,” I said through gritted teeth. Several steps later, with a hand on the wall supporting me, I was close enough to pull one of the chairs toward me and sit.

I’d barely moved six feet, and yet my breath was ragged. I groaned. Where was Waddell when I needed him? The sad truth was I couldn’t determine whether my inability to stand came from my earlier excursion or from hunger.

Keep going.I pushed myself up and grabbed as many jars as I could, placing them all on the table. When only four or five remained on the shelf, I sat back down, unable to support my own weight any longer.

These would do for now. I opened each one, looking for something I recognized. Each was filled with a different food: dried fruit slices, berries, nuts, seeds, oats. Nothing incredibly filling and nothing familiar, but it would have to be enough.

When the jars were empty and my hunger satiated, my energy had returned enough to look around the rest of the room. While the Hellbringer was gone, I could do some snooping. Maybe there were tools hidden somewhere. I still needed to pick the lock on the door I’d found while wandering earlier.

The space between the entrance and the furniture—where we had sparred that morning—was huge and empty. I turned my focus to the small armoire next to the bed.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I flung the doors open, sword in one hand at the ready. I lowered my weapon when extra cloaks on hangers, folded shirts and pants, an extra pair of boots, and another warm blanket came into view.

Boring. I clicked my tongue. Not even a weapon to toy with. I closed the doors and peered under the bed.

A box. My arm was barely long enough for my fingers to graze it and pull it out, but I managed. Surely there was something incriminating in here: a severed body part or a bloody knife.

I threw the lid open to find pots and pans.

With a groan, I slid the box back underneath the bed.

Then I considered the bed itself.

I tilted my head and stared. It was a bigger bed than the one I had at home, taking up several feet with its width. Only one blanket and two pillows sat atop it—nothing extravagant. Yet the bed frame itself was dark, beautiful wood. When I glanced at the bedposts, I noticed they were carved with different designs.

Sitting up, I scooted over to the nearest one. It was adorned with a delicate carving of the seaside, a sunrise peeking over the horizon. The others were slightly familiar: a forest of pines, falling snow, a mountain range. They’d clearly been done by a careful hand, the scenes filled with a sentimentality I hadn’t expected to find in a prison.

For the first time, I found myself wondering if he always lived here. Did he sleep separately from his legion? Or was this place only for prisoners?

No. It was too nice to be used for just prisoners. And the carvings were too sentimental to be left behind. These had to be his living quarters.

But…if I was the one being held captive, why did he allow me to sleep on the bed?

It didn’t take long to go through everything in the room. The space was big but mostly empty, filled only with necessities. No incriminating secrets or interesting things for me to bother the Hellbringer about when he returned. Only more questions and no answers.

I sighed and fell back onto the bed. It was going to be a long day.

“Finally!” I shouted when theHellbringer returned. “It’s beenhours. I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

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