Page 5 of Ice Bound

"Oh. How frightening."

There was a warmth in his gaze, despite the grim tone of his story. "Not all spiritsare kind, Anna. But sometimes...death can be."

She pressed her lips together. She couldn't bring herself to acknowledge that.

"I was boarding in a small village," Neledrim continued, "far from this place. It was hit by a storm not unlike this one. Many of the townsfolk had gathered at the local tavern, where there was food and warmth aplenty. One family came inside in a panic. They said that their young daughter was missing, and they thought that she had wandered out into the blizzard. I went out with the village’s men to find her, but the winds were too strong, the snow too thick. It was so cold that the men grew icicles in their beards. We returned to the tavern, devastated. No one could survive in that, especially not a child."

Anna's eyes were wide, not moving off of his as he spoke. How could she not think of Davis? Of Lily?

"The weather had cleared enough by morning for us to try again. Every man in the village went out in search of her. Somehow, we found her."

"Was she...?" Anna couldn't bring herself to complete the question, much less contemplate the outcome.

"She was peacefully asleep in the middle of a field, two miles from her home. Snow was piled all around her, higher than a man's knee, but between her and that ring the ground was completely clear."

Anna hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until that moment, releasing it in a relieved sigh.

"We woke her. She told us that she had seen a man walking into the storm. She tried to tell him to go to the tavern, where it was safe. She got lost, cold, and tired, and just as she gave up, he appeared again. When he got close, the snow and wind just flowed around them, leaving her dry and relatively warm. She said his skin was white like the snow, and his eyes were like ice."

"No one else saw him?"

Neledrim shook his head. "Not a soul."

"I'm glad," she said, dropping her gaze to the porridge, which she was still pushing around with her spoon. "He saved the girl's life, but there are many who would have called for his blood because he was different. It is better that he was gone before anyone else saw him."

He was silent. The fire popped and, distantly, the wind howled over the snow-laden field.

She finally looked up at him again after hesitantly eating a few bites of porridge, finding her appetite lacking. He was studying her, as he always seemed to do, but she could not read his odd expression. He looked mildly confused.

"The people that tell these tales don't trust such spirits, no matter what good they might do. Because winter is harsh, it is cruel, and cold, and it does not care about life. Death stalks the gathering snows like a prowling wolf. Best not to have such entities about," he said,

His words turned what little she had eaten to lead in her stomach. She knew winter. Intimately. Fire rose in her throat, and everything in her chest felt constricted, like she was in the coils of a giant serpent.

"I have work that I must tend to before the storm begins anew," she said, her voice strained. She didn't wait for his reply before she rose and headed for the door.

* * *

Anna heaved another shovelful of snow, clearing a path away from the house. She'd spent the morning tending to her animals, moving with a speed she was not accustomed to. Normally she'd linger, talking to the cows and chickens as though they were her dearest friends. Neledrim had reminded her what it was like to have a real person to talk to, and she found herself impatient to experience more of it.

Her back strained and her arms burned with the exertion, her breath coming out in a little cloud as she tossed more snow aside. Behind her, the front door creaked open—with deliberate slowness—and closed very loudly.

"I will do that," he said.

She turned to him, leaning on her shovel to ease her muscles. The tip of her nose was numb and red, and her hair was tousled, with stray curls in every direction. He stood there, flawless, unaffected by the wind.

"If you want to help, there's another shovel."

"I must insist, Anna, that you go inside and warm yourself. Allow me this small manner of repaying you."

"I am fine. Working...it keeps my mind off of other things. Join me? I would like the company." She craved it.

He picked up the other shovel and set to work clearing snow away. "Perhaps your mind needs to dwell on some of those other things," he said, "or they will always be there to haunt you."

She focused on the next load of fluffy white, the ache in her tired muscles. It was better than responding to his words.

"What do you do?" she asked, after a time.

"I wander."

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