Page 33 of At the Mercy of Midnight
“The outpost is a few hours’ ride ahead,” Silas called back over his shoulder, his breath misting in the air.
“Great,” Amelia responded loudly so he could hear her sarcasm, “a few hours’ worth of you pointing out every landmark along the way.”
Silas swivelled in his saddle to send her his signature charming grin. “I’ll have you know my geographical observations are both precise and interesting.”
Amelia didn’t respond as he turned back around. She did have to admit, for a place titled ‘Shadowlands’, it had no darkness to it that she could see. Amelia had travelled there a few times. Though with her focus on her work, she hadn’t spent much time appreciating the landscapes.
Now that she was forced to travel by horseback, Amelia surveyed the scenery with fresh appreciation. It was undeniably beautiful.
While she thought her homeland in the Luminara Hold was lovely, Amelia had to admit there was beauty here just the same, only in different ways.
The North was warm and sunny, while the South held a chill that set the grass sparkling in the early morning. Her homeland was covered in bush and trees, the scenery flat and sprawling. Here, it was mountainous and quite sparse of greenery beyond the lush blades of grass. It made the view ahead stunning, some peaks rising so high that it held a dusting of white snow on the tops. Amelia had never touched snow, so the sight was mesmerising.
She now understood all the times that Silas had spoken of his home in a reverent tone that a week ago she might have made fun of. There was nothing funny about the landscape around her, peaceful and doused with cool morning sun.
Amelia nudged Tempest to move quicker until she had caught up to Silas. They trotted side by side for a moment in silence, though he sent her a questioning look at her nearness.
“How much snow do you get down here,” she asked, curiosity winning over.
“Ah,” he said with a grin, “so now youwantmy observations?”
Amelia shrugged, eyeing the snow-capped peaks in the far distance.
“It snows almost everywhere in the colder months,” he answered, pulling on Ember’s reins to shift them left towards a split in the path ahead. Tempest followed the change in direction seamlessly. “It’s pretty much a requirement in each house to have a working Stormglass,” Silas continued in a conversational tone, “so you get some warning before a snowstorm. They can be fierce and last for days.”
Amelia stared at him wonderingly, picturing the glittering white scenery. “Wow, that must be a sight.”
He chuckled. “A sight, yes. Snow can be lovely, and fun in youth. But it can also be dangerous and frustrating.” When Amelia didn’t answer, he glanced over and caught her questioning look. “It can snow you indoors for days, cause chills that can be life-threatening, or result in ice that has you toppling like a baby gazelle learning to walk. I once broke my arm falling in the ice while I was playing outside.”
Amelia couldn’t help it. She laughed.
Silas sent her a look. “Oh, is that funny?”
A tiny, inelegant snort left her and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Silas’ face split into a surprised grin.
“My my, Winslow, you truly are a sadistic little thing.”
She shook her head, trying to contain her laughter. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t laugh at the broken bone,” she said with a final, breathless laugh. “It’s just that I’ve always thought of youas irritatingly graceful, and I genuinely believed you had never tripped or fallen in your life.”
Silas’ brows rose high towards his hairline. “You’re joking?”
Amelia shrugged. “Nope.”
He breathed out his own small laugh and looked away. “I didn’t know you thought of me at all,” Silas muttered, almost too low for her to hear. But she had heard.
Amelia wondered at the note of bitterness beneath the odd statement. She chose not to respond, so they lapsed into silence.
She let Tempest fall slightly back again and trailed behind, Silas taking the lead. After another hour of riding across muddy pathways and through mountain passes, Amelia had begun to shiver.
“Finley,” she called ahead, “I think a break is in order, my limbs are going to freeze in place back here.”
Silas pulled on his reins, and steered Ember off the path towards a small clearing. Amelia followed gratefully before sliding off Tempest. She landed on achy and numb legs with a groan.
She tried to encourage the blood back into her limbs but couldn’t stifle another moan as the feeling of stabbing needles erupted. Silas looked over at her, fingers pausing at his saddlebag. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Amelia rubbed at her thighs. “Just a bit sore and frozen.”
He sighed quietly and pulled something from a bag. Silas strode over to her and held his hand out, a thin grey jumper hanging from his fingers. Amelia eyed it before staring up at him.
