Page 3 of Court of Winter

“No, nothing more than usual.” But I said it too quickly and didn’t believe it enough to fool her affinity.

Her expression darkened.

The sun was setting by the time we reached the road to our village. We still had a long walk to get back home.

“You can fly if you want,” I offered to Cailis when we finally maneuvered out of the narrow streets.

“And leave you to walk alone? Never.” She squeezed my arm.

Guilt burned under my skin again, but I didn’t argue with her. It never mattered if I did anyway. She always chose to walk at my side.

* * *

It tooktwo hours at a clipped pace to reach our small home on the edge of our village. Snow covered the front yard, and the old wooden boards of our single-level house needed a fresh coat of paint, but the roof was sturdy and didn’t leak, the windows mostly unbroken—save for one small pane in the kitchen—and the fireplace provided enough heat to keep the living area warm. And even though our house was only four rooms, it was our family’s home. Cailis and I had grown up here, and I wouldn’t trade it for the entire realm.

“I’ll get a fire started,” Cailis said when we reached our property’s edge.

I blew into my palms, trying to warm them. Heavy snow had fallen during our entire journey, and the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. The thin gloves I wore weren’t cutting it.

“Are you coming in?” Cailis asked when I didn’t follow.

“I’m going to check on the garden first. I’ll be inside soon.”

“But a gale’s coming.”

“I know. I won’t be long.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Just because we came home empty-handed doesn’t mean you have to go work in the garden tonight. You’ve got to be as tired as me.”

I smiled, forcing cheer into my voice. “I’m not tired. I’m fine. I’ll be in soon.” Not waiting for her to argue, I picked up a jog.

Her loud sigh followed, but without me hindering her further, she took flight. Her black wings lifted her effortlessly from the ground as she sailed the remaining distance to our home’s front door.

Within seconds, she was inside, and my stomach twisted, knowing she would have been home hours ago if not for me.

Pressing my lips together, I hurried through the six inches of fresh powder on the ground as numbness spread through my toes.

Banging sounds came from inside our home as light glowed through the back windows. Cailis was stacking wood in the fire, and thanks to one of our neighbors giving us a kernel of his fire elemental affinity, she had it roaring in seconds. Following that, she dug through the kitchen cupboards, probably trying to find something for us to eat.

I stopped at the shed in the back and pulled out a few gardening tools. I knew it could probably wait until morning—and that Cailis thought I was only here to appease my guilt—but I had a feeling that now was the right time to harvest the acorlis. If plucked at just the peak moment, the thick root vegetable had a sweetness to it that was unparalleled.

The shed’s door protested when I tried to pull it open against the accumulating snow. It took several tugs, but soon enough, I had several heavy tools in my arms. They clanged together and vibrated in my palms as I hefted them over my shoulder.

Angry-looking indigo and navy clouds swirled above. A gale was definitely on its way as the northern sky grew darker with each second that passed. But the richness of my garden that waited ahead soothed my anxiety at the upcoming winter.

I stepped over the edge of my field, and a tingle of magic brushed over my skin like an old friend saying hello.

Around me, my crops shone in a rainbow of colors: emerald green, bright periwinkle, burnt orange, vibrant magenta, and sunny yellow. Each vegetable, fruit, grain, and plant thrived in the rich soil blessed withoremin our frozen land, and seeing my plants made me feel as though I’d come home.

“Hello, friends,” I whispered. Running my hands over the soft petals of a berry plant, I plucked a leaf off and studied the fine veins that wove throughout it. The leaf bent easily in my palm, which meant it was only days away from being ready to harvest. “I’ll get to you soon enough, little one.”

“Do you need a hand with those tools, sweet Ilara?” a male called from behind me.

A scent hit me next—cloves and tobacco.

I stiffened and dropped the leaf. It fluttered to the ground as more snow fell from the sky, but the thriving magic in my garden meant that most of the snow evaporated before it hit the ground.

Breaths coming faster, I was loathed to confront him, but if I didn’t, he would follow me to the edge of my garden where I would be alone, magicless, and at his mercy.

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