Frost (15 page)

One mistake and we might be dead.

“Who are you calling a cripple?” someone shouted.

Ivy and I looked up, startled. The Farther turned with languid, predatory grace.

Jonn stood in the doorway of the house, squinting in the sunlight. I held my breath, and my sister’s hand crept into mine and squeezed tight as our brother gazed boldly at the Farther, his chin in the air. His crutches were nowhere in sight.

The Farther surveyed my brother for a moment that felt like an eternity before spitting in the snow to show his dismissal of us all. “Ah,” he grunted. He’d been hoping to catch us; I could see it on his otherwise impassive face.

I didn’t say anything. My lips felt dry. My mouth was still empty of words. The Farther glared, spat again, and stalked across the yard to join the others by the forest. Together, they plunged into the woods and were gone.

Air seemed to fill the yard again, as if the forest itself had exhaled in relief.

Ivy and I ran to the house. Jonn stood propped against the rail of the porch, sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip. He pointed to the crutches that lay in the doorway, discarded before he’d come outside. “I could only take two steps on my own,” he bit out, his face twisted with pain that was only visible up close. “But I think it was enough.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks. “It was enough,” I whispered, helping him hop back inside. Ivy grabbed the crutches, and we shut the door behind us.

“What about Gabe?” Ivy said, pacing to the window. “Where is he?”

“He’s hidden, and he needs to stay that way until those Farthers are gone.” I hesitated, looking at their brave faces. It was time they knew. All our lives were at stake now, so telling them made little difference.

“And there’s something I have to tell you both, something about Ma and Da.”

WHEN THE SUN had begun to creep toward the horizon and the Farthers still hadn’t returned, I took my siblings to the barn. Jonn limped on his crutches with our support, and Ivy helped him. They both gasped as I pressed the button and the stones slid back to reveal the stairs.

“Gabe?” I called softly into the hole.

His face appeared out of the darkness, looking up at me, and I scrambled down the steps. He hugged me tight when I reached the bottom, and I could feel his heart beating against mine.

“We brought you food,” I said, drawing back and handing him the sack.

Behind me, Jonn had settled on the top step. Ivy descended them slowly, holding the lantern above her head and looking around in amazement “This is incredible,” she breathed. “So they were hiding this from us the whole time?”

“It’s hard to believe, I know.” But as I said the words I remembered things, glances they’d shared at the dinner table, absences that hadn’t been explained, whispered conversations and visits to the barn in the early morning hour while we were supposed to be sleeping. My chest tightened—I wished they had told us, although I understood why they hadn’t.

I missed them so deeply now. I wished they could be here to tell me what I should do about the Farthers, about Gabe, about this so-called gate.

Gabe disappeared into the darkness and came back with a box. “It’s pretty dark down here even in the day,” he said, “but some light comes through the cracks. I took a look at a lot of these papers. Look at this.”

It was a book of maps. I flipped through it slowly—most of them were just places around the Frost, various farms or hollows. Nothing special. A few were completely foreign to me—“This one’s for Aeralis,” Gabe explained, tapping it with his finger—but most were local.

“But look at this,” he said, holding one up to the light.

The map was made of vellum so thin that it looked like cloudy glass. Drawings were scrawled atop the surface, but in an odd, piecemeal way—sections were missing, symbols incomplete, words half-finished. I held it to the light in confusion, my forehead wrinkling.

“It isn’t finished?” Ivy asked, peering over my shoulder.

“Hmm,” I said, tracing some of the words with the tip of my finger. “I think this map is supposed to go over another piece of paper. See how transparent it is?” I laid it over one of the other maps to demonstrate. “Find the right map and all the pieces will match up.”

“This is the only map of the whole Frost I could find,” Gabe said of the vellum. “There isn’t another like it.”

I looked back at the book and then rifled through the box, but I couldn’t find anything that matched the map in my hand.

“It seems like an extra precaution, perhaps,” Ivy murmured aloud. She was a sharp one, my sister.

“Do you think it’s the map that will tell us where to find that place you’re looking for—Echo and the gate?” I met Gabe’s eyes over Ivy’s head.

“I think so. We need that map, Lia. I’m not going to find the gate without it.”

Finding it meant his safety, but it also meant his departure. My heart ached just thinking about it, but I didn’t have the time to waste on that kind of reflection right now. We just needed to get Gabe to the next step on his journey. It was what he needed, and now we knew it was what my parents would have done, too.

I examined the paper again. In one corner someone had hastily drawn a flower. It looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t remember why.

“Do any of the other maps have this flower?” I asked.

We looked through the box, examining each with care. None of them did.

And then I remembered.

“The Mayor had a map,” I said slowly. “I saw it on his desk when I went to speak with him. It had this same flower, I’m sure of it. I remember thinking it was odd. At the time, I had no idea what it could be.”

And it had said
Echo
.

“Do you think the Mayor’s map is the other half?” Gabe asked. “The one that matches this one?”

Our eyes met.

We both knew that it was.

“We need to see that map.”

Ivy had come forward to peer at the book, and now she turned and looked at me, her forehead wrinkling. “How in the world are you going to get a glimpse of a map that the Mayor has?”

But I smiled, because a plan was already forming in my head.

~

I stood before the mirror, gazing at my reflection, and I didn’t recognize the girl staring back. Her eyes were solemn, her face was composed but white with nervousness. She was slender from not quite enough food and too much hard work, but she stood tall because she had a mission to accomplish. And I hoped this girl was someone who would make her parents proud, if they could see her now.

Ann’s dress fit perfectly. The fabric fell to the floor in lacy waves, skimming the tops of my feet, and the delicate sleeves covered my wrists and rippled when I moved. I didn’t have any fancy silk gloves or expensive jewelry to wear with it, but Ivy had helped me put up my hair in an elaborate braid, with little tendrils falling around my face. I’d even brushed some rice powder over my cheeks to improve my complexion.

“You’re beautiful,” my sister said proudly. “Every bit as pretty as the Mayor’s daughter.”

I laughed at that, because Ann was much more beautiful than I—not that I minded. Beauty was its own burden, and I didn’t want it. I smoothed my hands down my skirt and touched my pale cheeks. “I look terrified.”

Jonn hobbled to the doorway with his crutches and studied me. “All you have to do is speak with Adam Brewer and get a glimpse of that map. You’ll do fine.” He hesitated. “I wish I could go instead.”

“You’re right,” I said quickly, hoping to head off his guilt before it could torment him. “It’s going to be fine.” I slid a few snow blossoms into the braids and stepped back, studying the effect. It was almost time to go.

Gabe was waiting by the fire. He stood up when I entered the room, his mouth dropping open. “You look incredible,” he said.

“Nice as a Farther girl?” I asked, taking refuge from my nervousness in coy flirtation.

“Better,” he said, stepping closer.

“Wish me luck?” I asked, softly.

He stopped in front of me. “Luck,” he said, cupping my chin with his hand.

Heat crept up my neck again, and his eyes darkened. For a moment the rest of the room fell away, and it was just him and me. But every breath I took was painful, because every second that passed was one less second that I’d have with him. I turned my face, my eyes stinging, and his hand dropped to his side again.

The clock chimed, pronouncing me late. I stepped away from Gabe and gathered up my cloak and mittens. “I’ll be back soon.”

They all watched me as I went to the door and opened it. A gust of chilly air burst across my skin and fanned my hot cheeks. It was late afternoon—the social would conclude before the sun went down completely, so we wouldn’t be vulnerable returning home. I took a deep breath, stepped onto the porch, and shut the door. On the porch alone, I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders before stepping onto the path to the village.

It was do or die now.

COLORED LANTERNS HUNG in the trees around the Mayor’s house, and music streamed from the open doors. Villagers milled around the yard dressed in fur-trimmed cloaks over their fancy clothing. Sunlight sparkled over the snow and made the day feel fresh even though snow still covered the ground and a chill lingered in the air. In the Frost, a little snow never stopped any celebration.

But despite the festive music and decorations, the smiles were thin and the laughter forced. In unguarded moments, faces looked haggard and pale, and hands trembled as they lifted glasses to mouths.

Everyone was frightened because of the Farthers.

I climbed the long line of steps to the Mayor’s house slowly as I considered again what must be done. I had to find Adam Brewer first. I had to find out what he knew.

“Lia?”

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath before turning to greet him. “Hello, Cole.”

He was dressed up, his hair slicked back and the wisps of beard that had been sprouting on his chin shaved smooth. He bowed over my hand in greeting. “I can’t believe you came. Ann was certain you wouldn’t.” He paused to glance me over. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” I pulled my hand free and scanned the crowd. “Ann said I wouldn’t come?”

“She was very distraught about it,” he added.

More problems. I sighed. I wanted to make sure Ann was all right, but I had my mission—I needed to focus. I didn’t have much time. “Have you seen Adam Brewer?”

Cole gaped at me. “Adam
Brewer
?”

I just nodded. Perhaps he was inside.

Cole’s forehead pinched as he studied me. “You’ve been acting strange lately,” he said. “I’ve barely seen you over the last few weeks, and whenever I do you’re in a hurry, or distracted, or lost in a daydream. It’s like you’ve suddenly found a new purpose.”

You have no idea
, I thought. “Making sure my family survives the winter is purpose enough, I think.”

Cole smirked and shook his head. “Don’t be coy. I think you’ve got an interest in someone.”

I spared him a quick glance to show how silly that was, but my cheeks flushed, giving me away as my mind flew to Gabe and a flutter warmed my stomach. Cole noticed my blush and pounced on the incriminating evidence. “I knew it. I was right.”

A sly, almost cruel grin split his face, but I didn’t miss the angry emotion that flashed in his eyes.

“Is it Adam Brewer?” he asked after a pause.

“What?
No
. Are you insane?”

“Why are you looking for him, then?”

He was asking too many questions. His obsession with me was going from annoying to dangerous. “Cole,” I said firmly. “I am not interested in your advances.”

His mouth fell open. “I—I—” he stammered. “I beg your pardon, Lia—”

“You ought to. You’ve been pestering me for months despite my obvious disinterest in you. There is hopeful persistence, and there is willful rudeness, and I think you’ve crossed from one to the other.”

Color flooded his face, and his mouth twisted into a scowl. His eyes simmered as they met mine. He was angry. “I’m glad you made yourself clear, then.”

“So am I.” But unease prickled at me. Had I been too harsh?

I spotted Adam Brewer by the doorway. “Excuse me,” I said, my tone crisp. Picking up my skirts, I slipped through the crowd toward the front of the house.

He was gone when I got to the porch. Frustrated, I turned to sweep the yard with my gaze again. A few Farthers paced by the gate, their expressions cold and hard. I looked away and saw Ann in a filmy blue dress with a teacup in her hand. It rattled against the saucer as she set it down. “Lia!”

I tried to smile, but worry was gnawing at my gut, and my mouth felt frozen. “Hello, Ann.”

“You came,” she said, obvious relief in her eyes.

“I couldn’t bear to not wear the dress,” I said, but the joke fell flat. My concern was beginning to leak through my facade, and my smile faded.

Ann glanced around us at the other guests and then grabbed my hand. “Come on. I need to talk to you.”

She dragged me inside past the tables piled with delectable food and drink, but I had no desire to grab anything to eat later. My stomach was in knots, and I had no appetite. We passed the musicians and the couples swirling on the makeshift dance floor where the rugs had been pulled up and the furniture pushed aside. We stepped into a narrow hallway that looked like a servants’ entrance.

Ann dropped my arm and shut the door. When she turned, her face was pale and her eyes wide. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s going on, Ann?”

She stepped close to me, close enough so that she could whisper and still be heard over the strains of music on the other side of the door. She started to speak, then burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, sniffling. “It’s just that I don’t know who to tell, but I have to tell someone. I don’t mean to bother you with it. I don’t mean to involve you...”

“Involve me in what?” The gnawing in my gut was turning into a panic.

“It’s my father,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “And the Farthers. Oh, Lia.
He works for them
.”