He looks shocked at my words. "Is that what you think? That I am the one bringing on the endless winter?"
It's my turn to be shocked. "Aren't you?"
"By the goddess, no. That was the second part of my curse. That my people would suffer with me. As long as I lived, we would live in perpetual winter. My land would die more and more the longer I stayed alive."
"She was the true monster," I say with venom. "She is the truly evil one."
He shrugs in deep resignation. "Be that as it may, this is the fate we are now living, and nothing can be done about it."
“Why are you telling me all of this?” I ask, my voice breaking a little at so much pain. Both his and mine. A shared pain, two sides of the same coin.
“You were right about what you said. About absolving myself. My guilt is a heavy burden, and I can’t expect you, or anyone, to balance that with the things I’ve done, no matter how much I wish it were different. But I wanted you to know I would change it if I knew how.” He looks away, staring into the fire.
“If I could die, I would do it,” he says quietly, surprising me with the conviction in his voice. And the reality of his words.
“You can’t die? At all?” I ask, thinking of the vial of blood and my ultimate purpose here.
He shakes his head. “I’ve tried. In every way you can imagine. This curse is stronger than even my own will to live, it seems.”
My mind whirls with this information, but I don’t know what to say to his admission.
“I’m sorry,” he adds when I don’t speak. “For what it’s worth.”
Inside, my thoughts churn with everything he’s told me.
“Do you tell all your meals how sorry you are?” I joke, hoping to lighten the mood.
But his eyes are sad as he replies, “I’ve never spoken this freely with anyone. You’re different, Adara. You make me different too. I wish—”
He stops.
Without thinking, I rise and go sit beside him, turning to face him. “What do you wish?”
His gaze searches mine, and in their depths, I see it all. Pain, misery, sadness. And hope.
They are the same impossible feelings I too am battling.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
“I wish,” he says, leaning closer, and my breath hitches.
For a moment, I am tempted to give into my own desires, to close my eyes and enjoy the feel of his lips on mine. If I’m being honest, I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, more than I want Alaric’s kiss.
I lean forward, my skin buzzing with anticipation. And longing.
But then the chilled sensation of his skin nearing mine brings me back, and I remember what he is. What he intends to do with me. What he can't help but do to me, or someone else if not me. And what I’ve vowed to do to him.
Abruptly, I straighten, blinking to clear my head, and jump to my feet.
Alaric frowns, looking up at me as he clears his throat. The moment—and whatever it could have held for us—is lost.
“It’s getting late. I think I’d like to rest now,” I say, breathless and off-balance as I try to make sense of my own heart.
“Yes, of course.” He rises and escorts me back to my room.
As we walk, the silence between us is awkward, and my heart is heavy with how it will all end.
Outside my door, Alaric bids me good night, and I slip into my bedroom, alone and bereft, longing for something I know I’ll never have.
As I undress, the tears come, running in silent tracks down my flushed cheeks. Desperately, I wish I could go back to yesterday. Before I knew Alaric’s story. Before I understood he’s just as much a victim of the curse as we all are. Before I stopped seeing him as a monster.
Sobbing into my pillow, I pray to the goddess that I’ll find a way to save my people without taking the life that threatens theirs.
Chapter 7
My dreams are fitful, starting innocently and then morphing into terrible nightmares full of gnashing teeth snapping at the people I love. I wake to a vision that grips me so hard, I am paralyzed to stop it. In it, the snow falls thicker than I’ve ever seen before. The villagers of Willowdale are buried beneath it, their houses completely barricaded by the drifts. Fires go out. People freeze.
I come out of it weeping for the dead and unable to shake the feeling that this vision is a premonition rather than a simple nightmare.
Instead of dressing, I hurry to the cabinet where I’ve stowed my herbs and pull them out, choosing a specific blend that will allow me to see what’s to come more clearly. These visions are often vague and challenging to interpret, but I have to try.
After grinding the herbs, I mix it into a cup of tea already hot and waiting at my bedside and then lean back on the bed, ready for the effects. The drink hits me hard and fast, pulling me under just as my bedroom door opens and Alaric walks in.
“Adara?” he calls, but I’m already too far inside myself to answer.
This time, I come out of it gasping, with Alaric shaking my shoulders. Worry lines his features as he calls my name repeatedly.
“Adara, can you hear me?”
“I’m here,” I say, winded and trying to get my bearings after such a disturbing scene.
“What happened? Are you sick? What can I do?”
His worry borders on desperation, but I shake my head, reassuring him. “I’m fine.”
I hesitate, wondering how much to tell him about what I saw and what I am. But when I meet his eyes and see the concern reflected in their black depths, I decide to go with the truth.
“I had a vision,” I tell him. “I wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare at first, so I made a potion that would help me understand.”
“And what did you see?”
“There’s a storm coming. A bad one. Worse than this kingdom has ever known. It will wipe out Willowdale.” I grip his arms, reliving the scene I just witnessed in the vision. “Everyone will die. We have to do something.”
Alaric sighs, releasing my arms and sitting on the edge of my bed so that we are eye to eye. His expression is unreadable now, and I wait to see if he believes my claims.
“I know you care about your people,” he begins, and while I’m relieved he’s not bringing up how I’ve managed to conjure a vision, I can’t help but point out his word choice.
“Our people,” I say stubbornly, and after a moment, he nods.
“Our people, yes. And if there was something I could do, I would do it, but if I go down there, it would still end in death. Please understand that by staying here, I am protecting them from myself.”
He’s right, of course. And even if he were to let me go, I am still not well enough to travel that distance and warn them. And if I could? Where would they go? The entire kingdom will be affected, and there's nowhere close enough they could possibly travel to.
But the vision weighs heavily, and I can’t bring myself to let it go so easily. There must be some other way.
I mull it over during my bath, but each idea I come up with is more useless than the next. The bordering kingdoms couldn't help even if they wanted to. Against the goddess of nature, we are all helpless.
I push these thoughts to the side temporarily, in hopes that not thinking of it will lead to more ideas than obsessing over it. A little trick Grandmother taught me.