Page 166 of Frost and Death
Mother is not dead. Shecan’tbe dead. This is just anxiety.
I am okay. I am okay.
Just breathe.
I pinch my eyes shut, focusing on my breathing to calm the panic. But a soft touch lands on my shoulder, my sister’s serene voice seeking to soothe me.
“Tove, I am here. What’s wrong?”
I recoil from her, scowling. “Don’t touch me! I-I don’t—”
A sharp chill rumbles in my gut again, controlling my movements. A whimper escapes as my knees hit the muddied plains beneath me.
I fold my arms over my stomach as I heave choked sobs as reality sinks in.
Mother is…gone.
I scream, panic and grief crash against my already weeping heart. “No! Please. I am not ready!”
Runa moves, kneeling and taking my hands into hers. I look up at my sister, her jade-green eyes tearing up as she takes in my own tears.
Our parents are dead.
“Tove?” she whimpers through her quivering lip, the question lingering in the air between us.
I wrap my arms around my sister, the two of us hugging each other tight, as if the Makers will condemn and break us apart. We cling to one another as the grief seizes full control.
Nikolaj wraps his arms around us, cradling us close. His tall, broad-shouldered form seeks to protect us from further harm. His messy red hair and light stubble rubs against the side of my face.
“I am so sorry,” Niko whispers softly, his voice cracking.
Runa wails.
Darkness sinks over my life, and the urgency to go into a frozen slumber claws at me. Something kisses my breath away as the three of us hold each other, a bitter cold still plunging me deep into the unknown.
I turn to prepare for my new reality, but a small inkling of frost appears around me. My eyes widen in horror at what this chill is doing.
I break free of their hold.“Oh no.”
I stand and sprint for the castle.
Runa and Nikolaj simultaneously say something, but it is muted by my command to them. “Run! Get far away from me!”
I scream at this frost to stop. Yet the more I cry, the more magic releases from within as if it is trying to defend me. But the chill won’t abate. And I can’t help myself with my emotions.
Breathe. Run. Breathe.
Just breathe.
The thought of breathing dies as swirls of snowflakes escape from my fingertips, my mouth falling agape. But I refuse to stop sprinting, not until I can figure this out alone. I keep going, hurrying for the trees beyond our home.
Exhilaration plants itself in my core, blossoming into more frost from each step that touches the semi frozen grass.
When I make it to the plains outside of our home, I veer right, passing the Queen’s Road, hoping to reach the lake near the border of our lands.
If I can get far enough and put distance between myself and the others—I’ll try to think of what comes after that.
An ache pulses against my chest as I pound my feet hard into the ground. A whoosh of relief courses through me as water comes into view.
