He told me short Winter tales while he worked. Over the hours, I watched his almost-dimples appear in the reflection of the spoon, until the dark skies drained to a hazy gray, hinting that morning was crawling over the forest.

“All done,” he said, crawling around to see his work.

“How do I look?” My voice was still raw.

Zane stared for a moment. His gaze dropped to the fork on his lap, and he twirled it with dexterous fingers.

“Time to check on the sputtlepuns.” He stood and hurled it back over the wall. I handed him the spoon, and when he tossed it over, we waited.

Sure enough, the fork and spoon sailed back a few minutes later.

THE EIGHTEENTH

THE EIGHTEENTH

Blasting horns woke Zane, sending birds shrieking in the trees and flapping off into the distance.

“What the bloody sea snake…” he muttered, uncurling from a ball. He used the wall to drag himself up, rubbing his eyes.

I’d stayed awake, watching the early morning shadows fade and blue skies trickle in, smothered by the constant gray clouds trapping Winter under a spell of smoke. I’d pinched myself every few minutes so I wouldn’t drift off.

Heavy thuds filled the path outside, and the lock to our room clanked. The door flung open.

“Out.” The Evergreen Host soldier had a braided beard, and a wreath of branches in his hair.

I obeyed and Zane followed closely. A body hit me, nearly knocking me off my feet. “Ragnashuck, you scotchy saltslugs! Watch it!” Lucas shouted at the man who’d thrown him.

I looked back for Kaley and her green eyes locked onto mine. “We heard you get taken by the Host last night,” she whispered ahead. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Silence,” a soldier shouted, and Kaley obeyed, eyes darting to her shuffling feet.

We were led up the path through snow-dusted woods to a wide, open-top arena made of upright logs. A door lifted upward like a hatch, and the soldiers nudged us through.

The arena was filled with thousands of people viewing what appeared to be a business meeting.

“The Council of Pines,” Lucas whispered.

The Queen of the Pines rested upon an intricately carved throne, her green gown draping over the willow branch armrests. The Council of Pines sat in a crescent around her.

Across from them, on a bed of frost-kissed dirt, stood Edward Haid.

I stopped walking.

Edward’s dark hair and gold eyes made him look young, even with the speckles of silver in his hair. At his back stood Gathadriel, the ally that was supposed to have gotten Kaley out of the Green Kingdom.

The queen listened to Edward speak, her face stone, but her stance looked as fragile as glass.

Gathadriel’s gaze flickered to us when we were pushed ahead. Edward’s hands clasped and unclasped at his waist.