Ravenloft: Mordenheim by Chet Williamson

Author:Chet Williamson [Williamson, Chet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-5607-6852-4
Publisher: Fanversion Publishing
Published: 2016-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

She could feel the wind, even in the depths of the cave. The snows had begun before they finished crossing the ice floes, coming down from the north like a thick, cold, wet blanket thrown over the island. She had not been able to breathe at the end, and he had picked her up easily, held her in his arms, taken off his coat, and draped it over her head so that the snow would not enter her nose and mouth. She breathed more easily in the captured warmth, and though the smell of his body was sharp and pungent, she inhaled blissfully, grateful for air that did not contain water.

The journey had been a nightmare. She had huddled in the bottom of the boat as it drifted out into the Sea of Sorrows, then eventually bumped its way through the ice floes until they could go no farther by water. Adam then told her to get up and handed her a woolen blanket to wrap herself in. He stepped out of the boat onto the ice and took her arm, and they began to walk.

It was like moving through a dream. The moon and stars were choked by thick clouds, and she could barely see more than his form in front of her and the dull gray of the ice beneath her feet. Had he not held onto her, she would have fallen and slid off the ice to a wet, chilling death. Whenever they came to breaks in the ice, he would help her across, picking her up and leaping with her when the watery chasms were too wide. Once at an especially large abyss, he told her to climb on his back and hold on tightly. Then he took a running start and leapt across the water, landing on his feet not only safely, but so delicately and with such grace that she was scarcely jarred.

Often the ice jutted up out of the sea, and then she would hold on to his neck while he climbed up and over each obstacle and jumped down to the next icy island of safety.

They stopped once as daylight neared, and he told her to wrap herself tightly in the blanket. Then he sat on the ice and directed her to lie in his arms and rest. The thought terrified her at first, but he had not harmed her so far, and if she lay on the ice she would freeze. So she let him cradle her. He did not look at her face, but gazed across the floes, his eyes open, his face stony as though he had turned to ice himself.

As far as she knew, he was still all the while she rested. She had not intended to fall asleep, but exhaustion had claimed her quickly, and when she awoke it was just starting to snow. She spoke to him then, to ask him how long she had slept.

“Five hours,” he said. “We must move on.”

The rest of the trek seemed endless, walking and stumbling, supported by Adam’s grip.

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