Page 175 of Winter Gods & Serpents

Snow turned to me, her expression drawn in question and I nodded to confirm that the crafter spoke the truth.

“This remains between us,” Snow said, making to leave. “I do not wish to hunt or harm your sibling, only to track her layer. You let anyone know, I suppose threats are unnecessary as I will come kill you myself. You made me a nightmare cure, a horror elixir, blood threaded to my nightmares if anyone asks about the scar, clear?”

Nia neared handing her a cloth to wrap her wound before giving the girl a coin pouch. “Fifty gold dar for your services.”

The girl nodded and tucked the coins under her dress.

Snow halted her step before reaching the doors to exit. “Is she holding you here against your wish?”

“Not-not exactly,” the girl answered, and Snow faced her once again. “After the King killed Melanthe, Lady Cerelia and I struck a deal for my life. A life threaded oath, unbreakable till death.” Heavens, she’d sold her soul to live, yet was she truly living?

Snow let out a long exhale. “The bruises, why for? She already has you under full obedience.”

She rose a hand carefully trying to mask the large dark violet mark on her jaw. “It is not her.”

“The other servants?”

The girl nodded and we all heard the crunch of Snow’s tight leather gloves gathering in a fist. “You will be free, very soon. Once you are, head to centre of Venzor to a man named Goran owning a printing shop down by the southern bay, tell him you were sent by me, he will know how to help.”

The girls eyes turned hopeful. “Why-why would you help me?”

“Why not, the old bitch will die anyway. Shame to have a Delcour witch chained, shame to have such a powerful bloodline end.”

Delcour? Was she the 101st Grand Maiden’s daughter?

We left Cerelia’s house, all of us had been pacing long steps behind a very jittery dark haired someone. We’d stopped for rest shortly after and all of us had gathered in silence staring holes onto the tavern table. Caiden had gone to order us and the soldiers drinks as we sat by the far corner of the large tavern in Brogmere, where she’d made us deviate to distract her father from our trace.

Her face rested troubled on her hands, biting her lip in concentration she nudged my leg. “I can’t understand a thing from the spirituals, every time one speaks all I hear is tales and fables. Eldmoorians give me the creeps,” she said in a shudder. “Now, which one of you can explain it simply for me to understand what a whole load of rubbish she just said.”

“Eat and I’ll tell you all, not a word before.” Her hands were trembling not from fear and not from cold, she had no food in her system. She threw a glare to her food and then me, rejection at the tip of her tongue so I leaned back raising a brow in challenge, one she knew not to take.

“The otherworld is another realm,” I explained as she began putting mouthfuls of stew in her mouth. “Celesteel’s heaven is not a spirit pane like the middle world. When an Eldmoorian dies they head either to his heavens or to his hells, like the rest of the rotten spirits. To be precise they don’t exactly die, only get transported to that realm, into a physical body as well. Dark crafters can open portals to Caligo, if the young sister is to be presumed correct, someone from outside would be needed to have reached for her, found Melanthe inside Caligo. But we are not talking elemental conjuring, that magic it is almost impossible…both crafters would need to be wielders of immense magic.”

That was the only way in and out of Caligo, the only realm reachable still, well to Eldmoorian people only. You could no longer find a full-fledged crafter within a village let alone two, that would require insane amounts of magic to be wielded, not to mention runes, ancient text, and magical elements. A whole circle of impossible tasks. I wanted to fear Silas just as her, but after leaving Venzor my head jumped in a dive of thoughts. What she had told us now truly did sound as Snow said, a whole load of tales and fables. I had a faint idea what she was spinning in her head.

She chewed quicker in a hurry trying to say something and ended up coughing, and almost choking. I rubbed her back trying to soothe it away. “Eat slow woman, I don’t want to lose sleep over another thing because of you.”

Mal coughed. “What did you say now?”

“Eat Mal, or do I need to feed you like I did till you were six because you didn’t exactly know how to hold and dip a spoon.”

Nia and Snow were clutching their stomachs while my brother reddened.

He scowled. “Was that necessary?”

“Would you like me to tell the fork story too?”

He blew a vexed breath and continued to his food. The fork story was a winner. He had a tine stuck right between the gap of his front teeth for a whole two days. I held a smile. Mal was an adorable child, however, terribly clumsy.

“As I was telling you,” I said, putting her second dish afront. “We are taking her word too sincere.”

Snow gulped on some water before shaking her head. “Not really. Melanthe was daughter of Valas Delcour, the 101st Grand Maiden, she was to take her place as well so that answers that. But who would bring her back and why? What boggles me completely is why come back to my father. And don’t say lovers Cai, I will let your corpse be eaten by Memphis,” she threatened her smirking friend who just settled down.

He threw her a wink and stole a fry from her plate.

“Hey, my food,” she grumbled, devastated at the loss of her favourite vegetable.

“What would your father want with a dark crafter as well? Didn’t you mention he banned craft in Isjord?” Mal asked.