I shook my head. Of course I was. The chess master needed his rooks and pawns. His queen.
I frowned, not liking the train of thought. Fortunately, Horse climbed up onto the flat plateau that marked this portion of the mountain. Snow was beginning to fall—thick, heavy flakes that clung to Persephone’s dark hair.
“We’ll find a place to camp here,” I said.
“Here?” She looked around. “Fantastic. Looks lovely.”
I ignored her and directed Horse to the right, toward an area where I knew the flat part of the mountain butted up to a series of small caves. The beast stomped through the rising snow until finally, I spotted a small cave.
“This will do.” Horse stopped in front of the small cave, and I swung down from the horse, reaching up to get Persephone. She leaned away from me, climbing down the other side, nearly losing her footing in her haste to get away from me.
“We’re seriously sleeping in there?” She frowned at the cave’s small entrance, no taller than I.
I removed the supplies from the back of Horse and patted his haunches. The beast disappeared, returning to the realm of magic from whence he came.
“Can’t we go where he is going?” she asked.
“You don’t want to.” I strode toward the cave, finding it dry and comfortable enough.
She followed me in, turning in a circle to inspect the small space. It was roughly the size of the chambers she inhabited in my castle, albeit cold and dark. As she watched, I tossed the kit on the ground and turned to the entrance of the cave.
There had been a pile of boulders outside, large enough to block out most of the wind and snow that howled through.
I raised my hand, calling upon my magic. I could feel the stones outside, their presence heavy in the air. It took nothing to lift them up and shift them to the front of the cave entrance, blocking out nearly all the light.
With the wind cut off, the air went still and calm. Persephone gasped and stepped back. I waved a hand toward the ground, sending a wave of magic toward the center of the cave.
A small, smokeless fire appeared on the stone, emitting warmth that would help with the chill. The light flickered off Persephone’s face, and she watched me suspiciously.
I ignored her, unpacking the kit I’d brought and unrolling the sleeping pad. I didn’t need food, but I’d brought some for her—cheese and bread and wine.
She eyed the parcel. “I’m not eating that.”
“You’ll need to eat eventually.”
“I’m fine.”
I frowned and shook my head. “I’ll need to be quick, then, and use you before you collapse from starvation.”
She shot me a grimace, then walked to the sleeping pad and sat on it, staring into the flames. “How long are we staying here?”
“The storms come at night. It should pass by dawn.”
She shivered, staring deeper into the flames.
I debated sitting next to her, then discarded the idea, sitting where I stood, the hard ground a familiar companion.
“Call me Seraphia.” There was a backbone of steel to her voice. “It’s my name.”
I frowned. “All right.” It was easy enough if it would make her more compliant. “How do you not realize that you are Persephone?”
“I can’t know I’m Persephone if I’m not Persephone.”
I hadn’t been born a god like the rest. Perhaps she hadn’t either. “You really are mortal?”
“Of course I’m mortal.”
There was much to this version of Persephone that I did not know. “You had a childhood?”
“Who didn’t?”
“Myself.”
“Then what did you have?”
I shrugged. “I was born of darkness, fully formed.”
She gave me a scathing look. “That, I can believe.”
“What was your childhood like?”
She frowned, as if she debated speaking. Her eyes flashed. No doubt she was trying to decide whether it would benefit her to share. Finally, she spoke. “It was normal. Never knew my parents, but I was born in Greece. Lived there with my grandmother until she took me away when I was young. To hide me. From you, apparently.”
“You went to Guild City.” It had taken me a long time to find her there. I’d searched endlessly for her magic, waiting for her to use it so that I could locate her.
“Yeah.” She stared at me, her gaze searching. “Why did you haunt me for so long? You drove me out of my home. I thought the library would be safe, but . . .”