Page 76 of Blood Beneath the Snow

Upon returning to our room, I hung the lantern in its place and sat cross-legged in front of the fire, letting the flames warm my cold fingers, wondering when he would return.

I wasn’t sure what I’d say when he did.

The part of me burning with hatred and mistrust had been replaced with acceptance and understanding when Frode told me to stay with him. For all of the Hellbringer’s anger during the first several days of my captivity, he’d slowly softened. I’d wondered as we spoke after I returned from talking with Frode if a tentative understanding was building between us.

I stared at the dancing flames and sighed. Just this morning I wanted to leave and never come back. Now I was convincing myself the Hellbringer’s intentions were good, even when they resulted in death. Never had my morals been so complicated; until now, the only dilemmas I’d had to face involved the priests and their foolish philosophies.

This…was entirely different.

Are you any better than him?My treacherous thoughts betrayed me.The only reason you’re here is so you can kill your own brothers and steal a crown you don’t deserve. At least the boy he killed posed a real threat.

I swallowed. I didn’t want to be like the Hellbringer. But I’d have to continue deeper and deeper down the path of a killer if I wanted to survive the Trials.

Not everyone wept when they ended a life, though. Forgiving him felt impossible, even though I knew it made me a hypocrite to hold today against him. Maybe it was enough to move forward and hope for the best. Allow his actions to show me his true intentions.

The sound of boots on the metal floors announced his return. When he walked in, I stood in the open area and pointed my sword at him. “Draw your weapon,” I said. “It’s sparring time.”

19

Four days later I lookeddown at myself and wished—not for the first time—for a change of clothes. I’d been wearing the same ones since I departed Bhorglid. I spent all day sweating or shivering in them and they reeked. It had been almost three weeks now since I first arrived in the prison. How much longer would I be living in my own filth?

When I expressed my need to bathe, I expected the Hellbringer to decline, rudely reminding me that I didn’t get to ask for anything as long as I was here. Instead, whatever torment he’d felt earlier this week seemed to be forgotten as he displayed his usual, straight-to-the-point attitude. “Come with me,” he demanded. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

I hurried to grab my sword and follow him. Maybe we were training in the enclosed spaces of the prison hallways today.

He moved quickly, never looking back to see if I followed him. I worked up a sweat keeping up. Did he know I was there, or was it up to me to avoid getting lost?

We walked for about fifteen minutes before reaching the door I’d tried to make my escape through. The same crowbar I’d used to try and pick the lock lay discarded on the floor, exactly where I’ddropped it when he startled me that early morning, demanding I travel to the forge with him. Had it really only been two weeks since then?

Now he removed a chain from around his neck with a key on it. I frowned, stretching up on my tiptoes to examine it more closely. He hadn’t been wearing it when he had his shirt off in the forge, and I’d never seen so much as a glimmer of light catching on the artifact when we were sparring.

He reached to unlock the door. “If you’re still entertaining thoughts of escaping, then be warned: I rarely have the key on me.”

I wasn’t sure if the Hellbringer or I was more surprised when I softly said, “I’m not. Entertaining thoughts of escape, that is.”

It was impossible to decipher my own thoughts or untangle the web of emotions inside me, but the words weren’t false. While sparring together after I’d seen him weeping, I’d decided to set aside my complaints and remain here willingly. This was where I needed to be; I was done fighting it.

For a moment he stilled. The time around us froze like the winter landscape when the door swung open to reveal an opening filled with snow up to my chest. But he didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “You know, this is one of the few times I wish we were working to get that fire Lurae brother of yours on the throne.”

I shoved him, and he laughed, an unexpected sound that echoed in the wild, snow-covered wastes.

Half an hour and a lot of swearing later, we’d managed to hike to a body of water nearby. Steam curled off the surface, tendrils reaching for the trees around them like wanting hands.

“Oh,” I sighed as a bit of warmth drifted over me. “A hot spring.” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I figured it was time I brought you here to wash your clothes and have a bath. You reek.”

I rolled my eyes. “The stories don’t lie when they speak of yourpleasant demeanor, do they?” I remarked drily. I couldn’t deny the truth of his words, though. “I do need to bathe.”

He reached into the bag slung over his shoulder and set a neatly folded pile of black clothing on a dry rock near the shoreline. “I had an extra set of clothes stored. While you wait for yours to dry, change into these. Wash yourself and your clothes. When you’re dressed, call for me and I will return.”

“Thank you.” This show of kindness was…unexpected to say the least. In the time since we’d returned from my family’s camp, the Hellbringer had been different. A bit softer around the edges.

It was new. It was nice. And sometimes I found myself opening my mouth to tell him I didn’t begrudge him the sharpness he’d held before—in fact, maybe I even understood his need to keep me at a careful distance—but I never allowed the words to leave my mouth.

Now he hesitated a moment, then nodded before walking away.

I waited until his silhouette disappeared between the trees, then sprinted into the water fully clothed. I sighed as I felt the silt and grime washing away. The water soaked through the fabric of my clothes and left them to fall heavy on me.

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