Winter, White and Wicked - Shannon Dittemore Page 0,111

Dakk will not be easily consoled. Best leave it to me.”

Dakk’s pushing forward, craning his head, trying to see into the cab. I didn’t think I’d have much reason to be grateful for the mangled windows, but I am. In this moment, I’m glad he can’t see inside. Every step he takes toward us tears great wide chunks from my heart. I can’t imagine having to tell him what happened out on the Seacliff Road.

And then I see her.

Lenore.

She’s pushing through the crowd, ducking beneath elbows and weaving to the front. She tips her hood back and her auburn braids spill out onto her shoulders. She rises on her toes, trying to see. And I remember why I’m here.

I scrabble out the hatch, half falling, half climbing down the side of the Dragon, until my boots splash onto the cobbles.

“Leni!” I call, “Lenore!”

The crowd continues to gather, pushing closer and closer to the Dragon. It’s a different kind of noise than I’ve heard in days. It’s people. And excitement. It’s celebration. Every one of them wants to touch the Dragon. Whatever she’s carrying has them overjoyed. But I’ve never cared less about a haul. Lenore is here. She’s here!

I’m standing before her now, but her gaze is set beyond me. She’s looking at the bridge of ice climbing up and into the mountains.

“That’s . . . amazing,” she says, her brown eyes wide. “Your doing or Mars’s?”

I hadn’t considered what others would think of the magicked road. There wasn’t time for that kind of deliberation and, even now, even to Lenore, I’m not sure what to say. Her gaze drops to my face and her mouth falls open.

“It was you,” she says, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket. “I’ve had ideas for years now, about you and Winter, about your Kerce blood. But that’s something right out of one of Mystra Dyfan’s fairy books. Mars said you were special, but . . . I didn’t think you’d come, Sylvi. I told them all you’d never do it.”

I take the handkerchief from her and press it to my lips. “You’ve been wrong before,” I say. “Remember the excavator?”

“You were eight! And you sunk it in a pond.”

“Still drove it.”

“I cannot believe you’re here.” She puts her hands on her hips and laughs. “You should have heard what I said about you, Sylver Quine. I told Mars you were a selfish brat who cared more about steel and Paradyian tank tread than you ever did about the people of Shiv Island.”

“She’s omitting the expletives,” Mars confirms, suddenly at my side. “Nice to see you again, Miss Trestman. I’m glad you made it here safely.”

“And you,” she tells him, beaming. “I can’t believe you got her here.”

“In all fairness, it was Miss Quine who got us here. Take her inside, will you? There’s something I can’t put off, but I’ll be along soon. We’ve much to discuss.” He turns and presses back into the crowd.

“Come on,” Lenore says, tugging my sleeve, turning toward the square. I glance back briefly, looking for Kyn—something is wedged between his ribs, tight, uncomfortable, and it pinches at mine—but before I can find him, my eyes catch on the large Paradyian man knocking on the door of the Dragon.

Dakk, they said his name was. He’s two short minutes from misery and the knowledge squeezes my already shaken insides. I duck my head and jog to catch up with Lenore, who’s still talking.

“I told Mars you’d gladly turn over whatever coin the Rangers required so you could truck where you pleased. That you wouldn’t blink in the face of abusive Majority taxes, but you’d never sacrifice your own comfort, even to do the right thing for Shiv Island.” She stops in front of the large fire pit and stares into the flames. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“No,” I say, twisting the handkerchief in my hands, trying to shut out Kyn’s discomfort. “I owe you an apology.”

“Yes,” she says, spinning to face me, her braids flying. “You do. You were awful!”

I was terrible, but she throws her arms around me anyway and suddenly I’m crying, my face pressed into her sweater, my body shaking.

Lenore’s OK. She’s OK.

“You hungry?” she asks.

“Starving.”

“Come on inside then,” she says. “We’ve had an interesting few days around here, but there’s plenty of food.”

I follow Lenore into what I had assumed was a gathering hall and find it’s being used for several different purposes. There’s no electric lighting, but a wide hearth sits in