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Scarlett smirked. “Nervous, monster boy? Want to delay our return so I can’t paddle your ass? You should have thought of that before you made fun of me.”
I shifted uncomfortably, because yes, a part of me was nervous about that, but in a rather thrilled way. “I’m just worried about going down the slope in the dark,” I said. “We might even not make it up to the lake before evening.”
“I refuse to spend another night listening to this.” Scarlett waved her hand at the cats, her jaw clenching. “We made good pace. You took care of it, remember? So we’re going. Pack our things and let’s go.”
Unease tightened my chest, but then, I breathed more freely again. Scarlett decided, which meant I didn’t have to. And really, darkness wasn’t really such a risk. The snow was bright. We’d be fine.
I shouldered my bag and nodded, grinning at her. “You’re right. It’s so much better when you take the lead.”
We set out, keeping a good pace. The slope grew a bit steeper, but the trail was wide and comfortable. I hummed to myself, feeling light and carefree, though I still checked on Scarlett to make sure she was all right. She was tired, I could tell, but she didn’t slow down. Her jaw was set with determination.
“You’re pretty strong,” I said, impressed, as she kept pushing, even though it was getting dark. We’d been trekking for hours.
“I can’t stop now, can I?” she asked, huffing out a white cloud of breath. “I have to show the little buggers who’s the boss.”
I wasn’t sure whether she meant the cats or the Yule lads and didn’t get a chance to ask. The snow surface under Scarlett’s feet, which seemed stable and safe, suddenly splintered. A part of it slid down the slope. It took Scarlett with it.
“No,” I whispered, too quiet to hear over the ringing in my ears.
I watched as she fell, her mouth wide open in fear, and then tumbled down the slope, the rushing snow dragging her down. The small avalanche sped down and I just stood there. After an agonizing moment of frozen panic, my body unclenched, and I hurried after her, staying on the other, undisturbed side of the trail.
“Snowdrop!” I screamed. “Snowdrop, where are you?”
Icy gales, she could be anywhere. Either she tumbled all the way down with the small avalanche, getting buried wherever it stopped, or she might have stopped earlier, buried under snow. I looked at the jagged sea of white, frantically searching for signs of color.
Ole Frost, let her be alive. Let her not break her neck.
“Scarlett!”
I didn’t see any signs of her. Eyes frantically searching, I tried not to breathe, because the sound of it was too loud in my ears. Even my heartbeat was too loud. I was terrified I might miss her moan of pain or another quiet indication of where she was. “Snowdrop, say something!”
I stood still, listening hard, but the forest was dead quiet. My guts lurched from fear as I rushed ahead, down and down the slope. White trees loomed above me, their boughs like skeletal fingers reaching from the afterlife.
Would this forest be my little snowdrop’s tomb? Oh gods, if I didn’t find her, no one would. Her body would be gone before spring, dragged by wild animals. I’d never see her again.
Hot tears pressed into my eyes, and I swiped them away impatiently. My eyes couldn’t get blurry now. I had to find her. Because what had happened just now was all my fault.
“Please,” I prayed, not even knowing to whom. “Please. Give her back to me.”
The weight of guilt grew heavy in my chest as I walked, sticking my walking stick into the disturbed snow to check for anything underneath, my thoughts circling like birds of prey in my head. I couldn’t help but think my father was right. I should have been the one to decide. I shouldn’t have shoved the responsibility onto her.
If we had stayed in the cabin, like I said we should, this wouldn’t have happened.
But I let her take the burden away from me, and now she was… She was…
“Snowdrop!” I yelled, my body growing tight with grief.
I was the worst husband in the world. Because not even a week after marrying, I got my wife killed.
“Snowdrop!”
A sound. I stopped dead, listening sharply. There was something…
A cat yowled lower down the slope, and my chest swelled with hope. I ran through the thickening darkness, faster and faster until only sheer determination kept me from falling, my tail balancing nimbly to keep me upright. When I saw the small group of mountain cats milling over a patch of snow, I was ready to cry.
She was there. She had to be.
I fell to my knees and dug, pushing the cats away. I shoveled the snow with my palms, growing more and more frantic until something black flashed against the ubiquitous white. Scarlett’s hand in her mitten, her fingers moving weakly.
