Page 136 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
She lay in his arms for some time, trying to find the courage to tell him, but by the time she could unlatch the words from inside her chest, he had fallen asleep.
Tomorrow,she promised.I’ll tell him tomorrow.
At the same time, she prayed tomorrow never came, that the dawn held itself back, that the clock stopped ticking, and nothing outside of this tent ever existed again.
∞∞∞
She woke again before dawn, awake and alert, pressed up against Cole. She did not want to sleep again. Sleep was like letting water slip through your fingers during a drought, like tossing silver into a wishing well instead of pennies. A foolish waste.
My wish is here.
A strange, invasive kind of coldness prickled through the air that had nothing to do with the temperature. The campfire crackled. She did not know who was on watch right now, but uneasy quietness penetrated the dark.
“Cole?” she whispered.
He did not stir. Just as well, she thought. She was being silly. Foolish. There was nothing amiss. She’d just peek outside, just to check…
She pulled on her boots, wrapping a cloak around her shoulders, and unpegged the tent.
The rebel on watch was slumped in his seat, dozing with unnatural stillness. An old woman,shrivelled and hunched with age, sat beside him, warming her bony hands by the fire. Her knuckles were swollen and prune-like, bitten with cold, but a large ring sat on one of her fingers.
Next to her in the snow was a basket of apples, glistening red in the faint puckering light of dawn.
“You’re up early, dear,” the old woman rasped. “I hope you don’t mind an old crone like me warming herself by the fire a wee bit. It’s such a cold night…”
Eirwen stiffened, wishing she’d grabbed her sword. “What are the apples for, crone?”
“Oh, for you, my dear, or anyone that wants one. Please, take it, as a thank you for letting me stay.”
Eirwen narrowed her eyes. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“Whatever makes you say that, dear?”
“You’ve already fooled me twice, Bianca. Or whatever your real name is. It wasn’t going to work again.”
The crone sighed, shifting upright. Her spine uncurled and she twisted the ring on her finger, reverting to her old appearance. “The apple would have been so much easier.” She clicked her fingers. Guards shifted under the snow, emerging from the trees, appearing from behind the tents. They were surrounded, probably outnumbered. Even if everyone was raised and awake–
“If you wake them,” said Bianca, “they will die. And you will have to watch.”
Eirwen’s breath stilled in her chest. Her heart pounded. She had no idea what to do.
“What would the apples have done?”
“They’re laced with a powerful death potion; it would have stolen your breath but left your heart intact for the Mirror.”
A flash of something in the dwarven caverns, a painting of a man with a cursed piece of fruit. Was that to do with the Mirror? What had the writing above it said?
“Do you know?” she asked. “What the Mirror really is?”
“An ancient one,” Bianca replied. “Of unimaginable power. And when I release him, he will reward me a thousandfold.”
“Or just kill you.”
Bianca laughed. “No. Not after all we’ve done together.”
“He isn’t your friend.”
A darkness passed over Bianca’s features. “What would a child like you know?” she spat.
