Page 85 of A Spell for Midwinter's Heart
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” said a blond woman wearing a sweater dress the color of holly berries, above conspicuous furry boots. “Were you saying this place might be open all year soon?”
Rowan tensed—not yet trusting the pitch with strangers. Unfortunately, pheromones took the lead as her big brother noticed the woman and straightened up with a grin.
“Maybe,” said Stephan, leaning in. “What do you think about spending more holidays with us?”
Their visitor gave him a mild smile before looking back at Rowan with a curiously intense look. “Is that something that’s actually happening?”
There was something unsettling about this woman, an unknowable quality that set the hairs of Rowan’s arms standing on end and turned her stomach.
“Not exactly,” she hedged, her vision blurring confusingly as she tried to focus on the woman’s face.
“But people sure are excited about the possibility,” said Arnauld, eyes dancing as he looked at the intruder. “And if you don’t like the idea of coming back to see this guy, you’re free to think of me.” He winked.
“Good to know,” said the woman in a tight voice. Her eyes scanned Rowan with an intense focus. “Have we met before?”
As Rowan tried to place her, it was like trying to remember a dream in the minutes following waking. Slippery images flashed before splitting and falling away.
“I don’t think so,” she said finally.
They studied each other a moment longer before the woman shrugged and said, “Thanks for the intel. Enjoy your evening.” With that, she disappeared into the crowd.
Rowan watched as the slip of vermillion vanished into the crowd. The uneasy sensation in her body didn’t vanish, only spread and twisted in her gut.
“Stephan, was there something weird about—”
She turned, but where her brother had been a moment before now stood a tall figure leaning on a massive oaken staff. Rowan started, her eyes flickering over to where her brother and Arn had vanished into the crowd.
“Well, daughter,” the newcomer said, “have you done all you need to do before the New Year yet? Or do you have business yet undone?”
It was at that moment she recognized him. “You,” she said with a gasp, staring at the figure from the train.
The Holly King nodded before continuing, “I don’t hunt in the literal sense. I’m much too old. But that doesn’t mean I’m planning to let you off easy.” Even hunched, he towered over her. “You’re close, you know. Closer than you believe.”
“Close to what?” she asked in a whisper.
“Only you understand the whole of it,” said the Holly King. “But I would ask you—are you working for or against?”
“I don’t think I know how to answer that.”
He nodded. “Then you should keep asking yourself until you do. You have a little time left until the New Year. And it’s like you said, Rowan. It’s easy to forget the way impossibly large problems are brought about by many small moments of failure, any of which could have been prevented along the way, if we’d only just kept our eyes on that which was right in front of us.”
He waved his staff, and the crowd briefly parted, revealing Krampus kneeling in the snow to hand out candy to a small child.
Gavin.
Dressed in a sweaty, heavy, hideous costume without complaint, doing a favor for a woman who made her disdain of his family all too clear. Taking part in a tradition that wasn’t his own, and treating it with respect, curiosity, and an open heart.
He had stuck himself between everyone, trying to be a bridge, and just like a bridge, he’d been walked all over for his trouble.
Choking on everything she should have said, she turned back to the Holly King, but he was gone, replaced by a hypnotic swirl of snow.
All her enthusiasm for the Hunt’s games drained away. Rowan wanted—needed—to get to Gavin. She glanced back to the path the Holly King had revealed, but it rapidly closed with the regular foot traffic of the festival. She could only just make out the shape of Gavin as he removed his horns and mask to turn around and greet the blond woman in the red dress.
Oh no.
The dread that roiled through Rowan’s stomach didn’t make any logical sense, but it was a feeling that any witch knew better than to ignore. There was something off about that woman. She could have hit herself for letting Gavin out of reach on this of all nights. For at least not giving him some sort of protection charm to help keep him from being led off into the woods.
Not before she had a chance to apologize. Not before she had a chance to explain that trust was hard, but the thought of losing him was worse.
