Gabriel knelt before them, reaching out to one small girl. Her fingertips were bare and blue, her face pale. Gabriel turned to the other girl. Her hands were tucked beneath her arms, her dark hair frozen and stiff.
He shook her. She did not move, and he felt horror and fear fill him. He shook her harder and her hands fell from beneath her arms. “Eve!”
Her eyes fluttered and then opened to slits. A small grin slid over her lips.
She was alive! Gabriel swept her up into his arms, trying to warm her cold little body. He picked up the other girl, one over each of his shoulders and raced back into the forest, following his own tracks this time. He held them close, pulling them tight against his head for warmth, holding them around their waists. He was aware of how stiff their hair was against his neck. If their hair was that frozen, their bodies must be more so.
He mumbled words to them as he ran. “We are going home, now. Don’t worry.”
Neither girl uttered a word, neither moved.
Gabriel’s hands were numb. The snow seemed to suck at his feet, slowing him down, but he pushed forward. He stumbled once beneath their weight and went down on one knee. He pushed himself up, grimacing and continued on. He was very much aware that the young girls were in mortal danger. That even though he found them, even though one had moved, both could still die. “Don’t leave. You won’t get to see the Yule log.” They were heavy for him, but he refused to rest, refused to stop even for a moment. He was panting hard, forcing his legs to work and move through the snow. His trembling limbs clutched the girls to him. “I’ll tell you a story. A most amazing story.” He would say anything to get them not to pass.
He emerged from the forest to find the snow falling even heavier. He looked for Thunder and found him standing close to where he had left him. He had expected nothing less from the horse he had raised on his own from a colt, but still he was grateful to see him. He hurried to his steed, and paused.
How was he to mount with the girls? There were no stirrups to place his feet. He eased one girl onto Thunder’s back and held her there with a trembling hand as he put the other girl beside her.
Thunder stomped the ground.
“Easy,” Gabriel whispered, his breath forming a white puff of smoke.
Gabriel took hold of Thunder’s mane. He tried to keep his arm across the girls’ backs so they wouldn’t fall. He pulled himself up onto Thunder’s back.
Thunder whinnied and stepped backward.
One of the girls began to slip from the horse.
Gabriel released Thunder’s mane and grabbed the girl’s dress, pulling her into his arms. He held the other child on Thunder’s back by pressing his arm across her back as he took up Thunder’s mane again and urged the horse back across the valley, toward the castle.
It was awkward, holding one of the girls couched in the crook of his arm as he leaned forward to clasp Thunder’s mane, holding the other child on the horse’s back with his elbows. He just knew he had to get them into the castle.
As the steed moved, Gabriel happened to look down at the girl’s small face. So pale. So peaceful. Her long lashes rested against her red windburned cheeks.
“Don’t go,” he whispered to her. “We are almost home.” And he meant it. He didn’t want the little girl to die. He had seen death in animals, a wolf eating a rabbit, and in humans, his uncle had died from the blow of an axe. But never in such an innocent, little child.
Thunder raced across the drawbridge, his hooves pounding over the planks of wood, and through the outer ward, into the inner ward. Gabriel swung his leg around and dismounted, sliding from the steed. He reached back up for the other girl, taking her around the waist. He was breathing heavily as he ran up the two steps into the keep. He looked left and then right, but the corridor was empty.
He glanced down at the girl he was holding facing him. Her eyes were closed, her lips blue. He had to get help! Where was everyone? His arms were trembling from cold and the exertion. He looked up to find his brother standing before him. His hair was dry, his clothing untouched by the weather. “Michael,” Gabe gasped.
Michael’s gaze moved from him to the girls. A second passed.
A shiver of cold moved through Gabriel. He was grateful Michael was there, he was his older brother and could tell him what to do, what he was supposed to do.
Instead, Michael swept up the girl bent over his forearm and then took the other child from his hold. He whirled and started toward the large double doors of the Great Hall.
Stunned, Gabriel stood for a moment watching Michael enter the room. Gabriel shook himself and followed him. Before he reached the room, a cry arose from inside. He stumbled to the doors to find a large crowd around Michael. He was being patted on the shoulder, congratulated. His arms were empty.
Gabe’s gaze swept the room until he saw another group racing toward the stairway that led to the upper chambers. He caught sight of one of the servants holding one of the girls in his arms. Her dark hair was damp, but it moved from side to side, no longer frozen.
“Well done, Michael!” Their father was saying.
Shivering, Gabriel entered the room. A hound rushed up to him and began licking his icy fingers.
“You will be well rewarded for this!” his father continued.
Shocked, Gabriel skirted the outside of the crowd until he could see Michael’s face between a thin lord and an armored knight. Why wasn’t he telling them? Why wasn’t Michael telling them he had not found girls?
Michael shifted his gaze to lock eyes with Gabriel for a moment and quickly turned away.
