Forral’s face was absolutely white, and his hand trembled as he mopped his brow. She handed him the flask of wine and he drained it without pausing for breath. Aurian, in the meantime, was busy with her own angry thoughts.
“That does it!” she said suddenly, making Forral look up in surprise. “How dare she! All those poor snakes!”
“Poor snakes?” the swordsman replied in a strangled voice.
“They’ll din,” she replied impatiently. “It’s far too cold for them. I don’t know what she’s thinking of!”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Poor snakes?”
Aurian peeped out of the shelter, where the snakes waited, sluggish with cold and obviously hoping to be readmitted. “They can’t stay outside,” she informed Forral.
“I hope you weren’t proposing to move them back in here,” he replied weakly.
Aurian frowned, thinking hard. Then all at once, a wonderful idea struck her. “I know!” Reaching out with her mind, she addressed the snakes.
Forral joined her as she watched the last of the serpents making its way across the wooden bridge. “Where are they going?”
Aurian turned to him with a broad grin. “Where is the warmest place you can think of around here?”
A slow smile spread itself across Forral’s face as he perceived her plan. “You dreadful child!” He roared with laughter and swept her off her feet in a great bear hug.
They were halfway through breakfast when Eilin discovered the snakes in her plant rooms. A shriek of outrage resounded across the lake.
Aurian turned to Forral. “It looks as if I’m in trouble again,” she said, grinning, “but it was worth it. At least Mother will have to send the poor things back where they came from.”
But Eilin had only to wait to regain her advantage against Forral. A few days later Aurian awakened, shivering, in her little room that led off the kitchen. She couldn’t see out the window for the thick blooms of frost that covered the inside of the glass. “Forral!” she gasped. Snatching the blankets from her bed she shot out of the room, not even waiting to put on her only pair of shoes. Outside, the world was sparkling white and the air so cold it took her breath away. Aurian ran.
It took her a long time to wake him. When Forral finally opened his eyes, his teeth chattered, and his lips were blue. Aurian helped him to sit up and draped her blankets around him, rubbing his hands and feet. Then cupping her palms, she concentrated to make a fireball.
“I told you not to do that!” he croaked angrily.
Aurian was stricken by the harshness of Forral’s voice. The blue flame died between her fingers, and tears sprang into her eyes. “I only wanted to help,” she quavered.
Forral put his arm around her shoulders. “I know, love. I’m sorry. I’m worried, that’s all. If your mother doesn’t change her mind , . . Well, I can’t survive a winter without hot food and a fire, just living on bread and honey and cheese. You can see that, can’t you? I might be forced to leave.”
Aurian couldn’t bear it. She flung herself into his arms, sobbing. “Take me with you!”
Forral sighed, “I can’t, lass. You belong with your mother, and there are laws against stealing children. You don’t want me to end up in prison, do you?”
“Then I’ll run away! I won’t stay here without you!”
The swordsman’s arms tightened around her. “Don’t do that!” he said hastily, “Anything could happen to you. We’ll give it a few more days, shall we? Maybe things will change,”
Over the next few days the frosts were less severe, to Aurian’s relief. She left all her blankets with Forral, telling him that she had others of her own and easing her conscience over the barefaced lie by assuring herself that it was for his own benefit. Shivering in her bed each night was a small sacrifice, if only Forral would stay. Apart from nagging at her mother, which only incurred Eilin’s wrath, there was nothing more she could do. As winter deepened, Aurian began to despair.
Then one night the snow came. When Aurian looked out above the window at iuppertime the landscape had already been obscured by the blizzard. She couldn’t eat her stew, knowing that Forral was out there, freezing, with no hot supper to warm him. Once more she begged and pleaded with Eilin to relent, almost hysterical with fear for Forral. Eventually her exasperated mother locked her in her room. Aurian pounded on the door until her fists bled and yelled herself hoarse. At last, exhausted, she threw herself on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
It was still night when she awakened. Her throat was sore and her eyes felt gritty, but the blood on her hands had dried. How long had she slept? Aurian leaned on the windowsill and peered out. The blizzard had worsened, and she could see nothing but driving snow. She gulped back a sob. Forral would die out there, and she would be left here with her cruel mother who had killed him. It was more than she could bear. She wished that she were dead, too. At least she’d be with Forral. The idea frightened her, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Her mother wouldn’t miss her. Aurian made her decision. She would go and find Forral, and they could die together.
The window catch was frozen shut. Aurian hammered at it with her shoe, muttering Forral’s favorite curses, but it refused to budge. Then it occurred to her that if she was going to die, she wouldn’t need the room again. Picking up a stool, she drove it through the window with a satisfying crash. Wind and snow came howling into the room, and a piece of flying glass cut her forehead. Wiping blood out of her eyes and praying that the storm had masked the noise-|rom her mother, she laid her pillow over the jagged shards of glass in the bottom of the frame and climbed out.
The snow was drifted deep below the window, and Aurian sank in almost over her head, gasping. The cold was intense. When she floundered out of the drift the wind hit her, flaying her face with flying snow. But it wasn’t so deep here, and she could struggle forward with difficulty on feet that were already numb. She struck out toward the bridge, slipping and falling and picking herself up, bending into the gale that wiped out her footprints behind her.
Aurian stopped, uncertain. Where was the copse? She should have reached it ages ago. She was sure she had been going in the right direction, but the swirling snow made it impossible to see. I’m tired from crossing the bridge, she thought. That’s why it’s taking so long. The memory made her shudder. She’d been forced to slide across the slender, slippery span inch by inch, clinging to the frozen rail with numb fingers, terrified that the wind would blow her into the lake. Now she could hardly keep her frozen body moving, and she couldn’t feel her hands and feet. Aurian was suddenly very frightened. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to die after all, but she did want very much to reach Forral. A tear froze on her face. “Don’t be stupid,” she scolded herself. “The sooner you get going, the quicker you’ll find him.” Bracing herself, she set off into the darkness once more.
It was so cold that Forral had stopped shivering. It was a bad sign. His shelter had blown down in the storm, but he had managed to snatch the tarpaulin just before it blew away. He huddled in the lee of a tree with the canvas wrapped round him, toying with the idea of breaking into the tower. But it was useless, he knew. Eilin would only throw him out again. If she hadn’t let him in by now, he had to face the fact that it was hopeless.
“Forral, you’re a fool,” he muttered. “What a senseless way to die.” He felt himself drifting into sleep, and knew that it would finish him. He wished he could have said goodbye to the child. The thought of Aurian nagged at him, keeping him from the sleep that tugged so strongly. “Got to say goodbye to Aurian,” he mumbled. Hooking aryarm over a low branch, he struggled stiffly to his feet. What was that? A faint, ghostly glimmer flickered through the whirling snow. Someone was coming toward him, carrying a lantern.