Sugar and Snow by Irene Davis

Author:Irene Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Skookum Creek Publishing
Published: 2021-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When I wake, I’m curled as tight as a chick in an egg, with my feet tucked under my skirts. For several minutes, I stay exactly as I am, keeping my eyes pressed closed and my arms tucked between my knees and my body. I can hear the gentle lap of water all around me, but I am blissfully dry and warm. When I cautiously straighten my legs, something soft tickles against my bare feet.

The swans’ down. The nest. The lake. The clockwork ship and the wooden sailors and Lieutenant Lang.

I open my eyes and sit up quickly, but I am alone. Lang is not here, and neither are the swans.

I look around, brushing feathers from my face. The nest is a circular space of smooth, dry mud bordered with pressed grass and twigs and walled all around by tall rushes. The circle of sky above me is the cold, pearly gray of early morning, speckled with small high clouds.

I reach out to feel the edges of the nest, and the movement lets me know how stiff my entire body is. My shoulder, at least, doesn't feel much worse than any other part of me. I have Lang to thank for that, I suppose, as well as for negotiating with the swans and bringing me here.

Where is here, though? And where is Lang? I remember being very angry with him last night, but now I’m not sure what about.

I sit for another few minutes, slowly working the kinks from my muscles. My skirts are crumpled, and my petticoats are faintly pink around the hems. My feet are bare, which means that Lang removed my wet stockings as well as my boots last night. I can remember the warmth of his body, too, as he carried me to this nest, but he’s not here now.

I undo my hair and comb it as best as I can with my fingers, but my thoughts keep circling back to Dietrich Lang. What if he had slept beside me in this bed of feathers? I pluck a bit of white down from my hair and twirl it in my fingers. It would be warmer, and nothing more. He’s only using me to get to the nutcracker, and if he’s left me behind now, it’s because I told him to leave. Oh, and—for my memory of last night is filling in—that I hate him.

I wince as I remember the words. No wonder I’m all alone now. He’s probably gone to the capital by himself to hunt down the nutcracker. I’ll have to hurry if I’m to catch up to him and get Clara away before she ends up witnessing what will probably be Herr Drosselmeier’s bloody final moments.

I braid my hair into a crown around my head and stand up in the nest. It’s on a small island, surrounded by water. The water is no barrier to a swan, of course, and Lang must have waded through it last night to bring me here. I’ll have to do the same to leave.

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