Winter's Sword by Alexandra Little

Author:Alexandra Little [Little, Alexandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Shadow Phoenix Industries LLC
Published: 2018-12-27T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

The harsh light of fire seemed to beam down on me every time I dared to open my eyes. I never opened my eyes in the darkness. The night was for dreaming, and sleep, and constant movement beneath me. I was in a cart, and it jostled back and forth as it cut through the snow and caught at the rocky ground, or slipped on a hidden patch of ice. At night I could feel my foulings spread far and wide around the caravan of travelers, scouting ahead, keeping watch for any followers, bringing back snow hares or white deer to feed the two hundred humans that surrounded me.

It was a strange state to be in.

I heard Dalandaras and Father more often than not, their voices circling around me or their hands holding mine beneath the cloaks that had been draped over me. I could feel the power of the Lady within me, but it was as a tight ball in my stomach, not as an all-encompassing power that could heal me and strengthen me.

What had happened?

I remembered the poison, and the explosion, but could not recall otherwise what could have injured me so.

And then, when I could open my eyes fully and felt conscious once more, I was not in the cart. There was white stone above me, a smooth ceiling. There was light, too, but not from a torch or taper or even the pure light of the elves’ fire. It was sunlight, bright and fresh. A cold breeze brushed over me as well, cold and clean. On my left was a wall, the same smooth stone that was above me. The same with behind my head. To my right there was a little bit of extra space in the room, and then a doorway. But there was no door, only a thick hanging of leather. Someone had managed to put metal pegs in the wall, and hung the leather off of it.

I was covered, with blankets and cloaks. The scent of Dalandaras’ cloak surrounded me, as did my own.

I shoved the cloaks off, found myself stripped to my trousers and breast band. My stomach was bound, the bandages stained rust red at my side from the wound Ellsmid gave me. I rolled, but could only swing one leg over the side of the mattress only to find no floor there. I looked further, and realized I was on a cot, carved from the wood of the trees found at Tal Anor.

Old magic hummed beneath me, around me, and confirmed that was where we were.

My head was light, and spun as I sat up. My stomach was perilously empty, but I wasn’t hungry. I just needed sustenance to restore my head. I needed to think.

I managed to stand. My side tightened, the pain sharp. I clutched at it, willed for the old magic to come up from below me, to heal me and hold me upright. I stumbled to the doorway, and cast the leather open. The sun pierced my eyes.

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